13 files changed, 55308 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/9324-0.txt b/9324-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..497c5c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,10317 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+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: Roden's Corner
+
+Author: Henry Seton Merriman
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9324]
+This file was first posted on September 22, 2003
+Last Updated: March 12, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RODEN'S CORNER
+
+By Henry Seton Merriman
+
+1913
+
+
+                  “'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
+                  Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
+                    Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
+                  And one by one back in the Closet lays”
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT
+
+II. WORK OK PLAY?
+
+III. BEGINNING AT HOME
+
+IV. A NEW DISCIPLE
+
+V. OUT OF EGYPT
+
+VI. ON THE DUNES
+
+VII. OFFICIAL
+
+VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE
+
+IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST
+
+X. DEEPER WATER
+
+XI. IN THE OUDE WEG
+
+XII. SUBURBAN
+
+XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN
+
+XIV. UNSOUND
+
+XV. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVI. DANGER
+
+XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVIII. A COMPLICATION
+
+XIX. DANGER
+
+XX. FROM THE PAST
+
+XXI. A COMBINED FORCE
+
+XXII. GRATITUDE
+
+XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT
+
+XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT
+
+XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
+
+XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM
+
+XXVII. COMMERCE
+
+XXVIII. WITH CARE
+
+XXIX. A LESSON
+
+XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL
+
+XXXI. AT THE CORNER
+
+XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
+
+“The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.”
+
+
+“It is the Professor von Holzen,” said a stout woman who still keeps
+the egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague;
+she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob
+Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers
+live--“it is the Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or
+twice a week. He is a good man.”
+
+“His coat is of a good cloth,” answered her customer, a young man with
+a melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things
+of this world.
+
+Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
+Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within
+the doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages.
+During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough,
+see furtive faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women,
+who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those
+unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere
+which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop
+below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into the
+service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils
+which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and
+thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors,
+with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only
+expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other
+heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within
+the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous
+effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this street. Even the
+children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes and
+drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life, and
+rarely indulge in games.
+
+He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed
+quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire
+to attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered
+man with a bad mouth--a greedy mouth, one would think--and mild eyes.
+The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black overcoat
+closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of
+slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke
+learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use
+being learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took
+care to dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards
+the world seemed to say, “Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,”
+ which is, after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It
+is, at all events, better than the common attitude of the many, that
+says, “Let us exchange confidences,” leading to the barter of two
+valueless commodities.
+
+The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat--one of
+the oldest houses in this old street--and slowly lighted a cigar. There
+is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of
+stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen,
+having pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and
+grimy staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the
+town there is always a human spider lurking in the background, who
+steals out upon any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
+
+This spider presently appeared--a wizened woman with a face like that
+of a witch. Von Holzen pointed upward to the room above them. She shook
+her head regretfully.
+
+“Still alive,” she said.
+
+And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom
+step.
+
+“Here,” he said, extending his fingers. “Some milk. How much has he
+had?”
+
+“Two jugs,” she replied, “and three jugs of water. One would say he has
+a fire inside him.”
+
+“So he has,” said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went
+upstairs. He ascended slowly, puffing out the smoke of his cigar before
+him with a certain skill, so that his progress was a form of
+fumigation. The fear of infection is the only fear to which men will
+own, and it is hard to understand why this form of cowardice should be
+less despicable than others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation
+combines courage with so deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes
+think the former adjunct lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek
+told that in his student days this man had, after due deliberation,
+considered it necessary to fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face,
+might wonder what mark the other student bore as a memento of that
+encounter.
+
+Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
+and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place
+was not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered
+with many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was,
+indeed, used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the
+shop only offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have
+been a very Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all
+parts of the world rose up and wrangled in the air.
+
+Upon a sham Empire table, _très antique_, near the window, stood three
+water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
+stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held
+it out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
+
+“I have sent for milk,” said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful
+not to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was
+situated.
+
+“You are kind,” said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether
+its tone was sarcastic or grateful.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged
+his shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth
+usually indicates a soft heart.
+
+“It is because you have something to gain,” said the hollow voice from
+the bed.
+
+“I have something to gain, but I can do without it,” replied Von
+Holzen, turning to the door and taking a jug of milk from the hand of a
+child waiting there.
+
+“And the change,” he said sharply.
+
+The child laughed cunningly, and held out two small copper coins of the
+value of half a cent.
+
+Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a
+moment later held it out empty.
+
+“You may have as much as you like,” said Von Holzen, kindly.
+
+“Will it keep me alive?”
+
+“Nothing can do that, my friend,” answered Von Holzen. He looked down
+at the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be
+the face of a very aged man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A
+thickness of speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
+
+The man laughed gleefully. “All the same, I have lived longer than any
+of them,” he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an
+advantage which others never covet!
+
+“Yes,” answered Von Holzen, gravely. “How old are you?”
+
+“Nearly thirty-five,” was the answer.
+
+Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of
+the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a
+fine one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high
+forehead looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing
+nearly an inch upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver in
+life, without curl or ripple. The chin was long and pointed. A face,
+this, that any would turn to look at again. One would think that such
+a man would get on in the world. But none may judge of another in this
+respect. It is a strange fact that intimacy with any who has made for
+himself a great name leads to the inevitable conclusion that he is
+unworthy of it.
+
+“Wonderful!” murmured Von Holzen--“wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!” And
+it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that
+came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
+
+“And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it
+from boyhood,” said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado. “I did not
+wait until I was driven to it, like most.”
+
+“Yes, you were skilful, as I have been told.”
+
+“Not all skill--not all skill,” piped the metallic voice, indistinctly.
+“There was knowledge also.”
+
+Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin
+overcoat, shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an
+oft-trodden path to an ancient point of divergence. Presently Von
+Holzen turned and went towards the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay
+stretched out across the table, and Holzen's finger softly found the
+pulse.
+
+“You are weaker,” he said. “It is only right that I should tell you.”
+
+The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something
+seemed to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive
+steps moved away down the dark staircase.
+
+“Go,” he said authoritatively, “for the doctor, at once.” Then he came
+back towards the bed. “Will you take my price?” he said to its
+occupant. “I offer it to you for the last time.”
+
+“A thousand gulden?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It is too little money,” replied the dying man. “Make it twelve
+hundred.”
+
+Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence
+seemed to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room.
+The angel of death, not for the first time, found himself in company
+with the greed of men.
+
+“I will do that,” said Von Holzen at length, “as you are dying.”
+
+“Have you the money with you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Ah!” said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps,
+that he was sorry that he had not asked more. “Sit down,” he said, “and
+write.”
+
+Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil
+in readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored
+memory, the dying man dictated a prescription in a mixture of dog-Latin
+and Dutch, which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The
+money, in dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The
+prescription was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and
+the particulars as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid
+ingredients filled up another two pages.
+
+“There,” said the dying man at length, “I have treated you fairly. I
+have told you all I know. Give me the money.”
+
+Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow
+fingers, which closed over them.
+
+“Ah,” said the recipient, “I have had more than that in my hand. I was
+rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing.
+I will treat you fairly.”
+
+Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
+
+“Yes,” said the other. “One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden.
+You have made no mistake.”
+
+Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore
+no sign of exultation. His somewhat phlegmatic calm successfully
+concealed the fact that he had at last obtained information which he
+had long sought. A cart rattled past over the cobble-stones, making
+speech inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von
+Holzen went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching
+out for it, the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were
+tightly held by three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at
+the counterpane. Von Holzen bent over the bed and examined the face.
+The sick man's eyes were closed. Suddenly he spoke in a mumbling
+voice--“And now that you have what you want, you will go.”
+
+“No,” answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, “I will not do that. I will
+stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at
+all events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to
+die.”
+
+“You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death
+cannot be worse, at all events.” And the man laughed contentedly
+enough, as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of
+them at last.
+
+Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting
+in the air laden with the clean scent of burning peat, which makes the
+atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a
+city with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German
+scientist stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange
+silence. It was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it
+was what is known as an antiquity; and although some of these relics of
+the past had been carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem
+Straat, others were really of ancient date. The very glass from which
+the dying man drank his milk dated from the glorious days of Holland
+when William the Silent pitted his Northern stubbornness and deep
+diplomacy against the fire and fanaticism of Alva. Many objects in the
+room had a story, had been in the daily use of hands long since
+vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human lives lived out
+and now forgotten. The air itself smelt of age and mouldering memories.
+
+Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking
+down. Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow
+that lay over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was
+breathing very slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then
+returned to the dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly
+his breath caught. There were long pauses during which he seemed to
+cease to breathe. Then at length followed a pause which merged itself
+gently into eternity.
+
+Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly
+unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled notes.
+Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and
+restored them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour
+earlier.
+
+He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor
+arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
+
+“I am afraid, Herr Doctor,” he said, in German, “You are too late.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+WORK OR PLAY?
+
+       “Get work, get work;
+   Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get.”
+
+
+Two men were driving in a hansom cab westward through Cockspur Street.
+One, a large individual of a bovine placidity, wore the Queen's
+uniform, and carried himself with a solid dignity faintly suggestive of
+a lighthouse. The other, a narrower man, with a keen, fair face and
+eyes that had an habitual smile, wore another uniform--that of society.
+He was well dressed, and, what is rarer carried his fine clothes with
+such assurance that their fineness seemed not only natural but
+indispensable.
+
+“Sic transit the glory of this world,” he was saying. At this moment
+three men on the pavement--the usual men on the pavement at such
+times--turned and looked into the cab.
+
+“'Ere's White!” cried one of them. “White--dash his eyes! Brayvo!
+brayvo, White!”
+
+And all three raised a shout which seemed to be taken up vaguely in
+various parts of Trafalgar Square, and finally died away in the
+distance.
+
+“That is it,” said the young man in the frock-coat; “that is the glory
+of this world. Listen to it passing away. There is a policeman touching
+his helmet. Ah, what a thing it is to be Major White--to-day!
+To morrow--_bonjour la gloire_!”
+
+Major White, who had dropped his single eye-glass a minute earlier, sat
+squarely looking out upon the world with a mild surprise. The eye from
+which the glass had fallen was even more surprised than the other. But
+this, it seemed, was a man upon whom the passing world made, as a rule,
+but a passing impression. His attitude towards it was one of dense
+tolerance. He was, in fact, one of those men who usually allow their
+neighbours to live in a fool's-paradise, based upon the assumption of a
+blindness or a stupidity or an indifference, which may or may not be
+justified by subsequent events.
+
+This was, as Tony Cornish, his companion, had hinted, _the_ White of
+the moment. Just as the reader may be the Jones or the Tomkins of the
+moment if his soul thirst for glory. Crime and novel-writing are the
+two broad roads to notoriety, but Major White had practiced neither
+felony nor fiction. He had merely attended to his own and his country's
+business in a solid, common-sense way in one of those obscure and tight
+places into which the British officer frequently finds himself forced
+by the unwieldiness of the empire or the indiscretion of an
+effervescent press.
+
+That he had extricated himself and his command from the tight place,
+with much glory to themselves and an increased burden to the cares of
+the Colonial Office, was a fact which a grateful country was at this
+moment doing its best to recognize. That the authorities and those who
+knew him could not explain how he had done it any more than he himself
+could, was another fact which troubled him as little. Major White was
+wise in that he did not attempt to explain.
+
+“That sort of thing,” he said, “generally comes right in the end.” And
+the affair may thus be consigned to that pigeon-hole of the past in
+which are filed for future reference cases where brilliant men have
+failed and unlikely ones have covered themselves with sudden and
+transient glory.
+
+There had been a review of the troops that had taken part in a short
+and satisfactory expedition of which, by what is usually called a lucky
+chance, White found himself the hero. He was not of the material of
+which heroes are made; but that did not matter. The world will take a
+man and make a hero of him without pausing to inquire of what stuff he
+may be. Nay, more, it will take a man's name and glorify it without so
+much as inquiring to what manner of person the name belongs.
+
+Tony Cornish, who went everywhere and saw everything, was of course
+present at the review, and knew all the best people there. He passed
+from carriage to carriage in his smart way, saying the right thing to
+the right people in the right words, failing to see the wrong people
+quite in the best manner, and conscious of the fact that none could
+surpass him. Then suddenly, roused to a higher manhood by the tramp of
+steady feet, by the sight of his lifelong friend White riding at the
+head of his tanned warriors, this social success forgot himself. He
+waved his silk hat and shouted himself hoarse, as did the honest
+plumber at his side.
+
+“That's better work than yours nor mine, mister,” said the plumber,
+when the troops were gone; and Tony admitted, with his ready smile,
+that it was so. A few minutes later Tony found Major White solemnly
+staring at a small crowd, which as solemnly stared back at him, on the
+pavement in front of the Horse Guards.
+
+“Here, I have a cab waiting for me,” he had said; and White followed
+him with a mildly bewildered patience, pushing his way gently through
+the crowd as through a herd of oxen.
+
+He made no comment, and if he heard sundry whispers of “That's 'im,” he
+was not unduly elated. In the cab he sat bolt upright, looking as if
+his tunic was too tight, as in all probability it was. The day was hot,
+and after a few jerks he extracted a pocket-handkerchief from his
+sleeve.
+
+“Where are you going?” he asked.
+
+“Well, I was going to Cambridge Terrace. Joan sent me a card this
+morning saying that she wanted to see me,” explained Tony Cornish. He
+was a young man who seemed always busy. His long thin legs moved
+quickly, he spoke quickly, and had a rapid glance. There was a
+suggestion of superficial haste about him. For an idle man, he had
+remarkably little time on his hands.
+
+White took up his eye-glass, examined it with short-sighted
+earnestness, and screwed it solemnly into his eye.
+
+“Cambridge Terrace?” he said, and stared in front of him.
+
+“Yes. Have you seen the Ferribys since your glorious return to
+these--er--shores?” As he spoke, Cornish gave only half of his
+attention. He knew so many people that Piccadilly was a work of
+considerable effort, and it is difficult to bow gracefully from a
+hansom cab.
+
+“Can't say I have.”
+
+“Then come in and see them now. We shall find only Joan at home, and
+she will not mind your fine feathers or the dust and circumstance of
+war upon your boots. Lady Ferriby will be sneaking about in the
+direction of Edgware Road--fish is nearly two pence a pound cheaper
+there, I understand. My respected uncle is sure to be sunning his
+waistcoat in Piccadilly. Yes, there he is. Isn't he splendid? How do,
+uncle?” and Cornish waved a grey Suède glove with a gay nod.
+
+“How are the Ferribys?” inquired Major White, who belonged to the curt
+school.
+
+“Oh, they seem to be well. Uncle is full of that charity which at all
+events has its headquarters in the home counties. Aunt--well, aunt is
+saving money.”
+
+“And Miss Ferriby?” inquired White, looking straight in front of him.
+
+Cornish glanced quickly at his companion. “Oh, Joan?” he answered. “She
+is all right. Full of energy, you know--all the fads in their courses.”
+
+“You get 'em too.”
+
+“Oh yes; I get them too. Buttonholes come and buttonholes go. Have you
+noticed it? They get large. Neapolitan violets all over your left
+shoulder one day, and no flowers at all the week after.” Cornish spoke
+with a gravity befitting the subject. He was, it seemed a student of
+human nature in his way. “Of course,” he added, laying an impressive
+forefinger on White's gold-laced cuff, “it would never do if the world
+remained stationary.”
+
+“Never,” said the major, darkly. “Never.”
+
+They were talking to pass the time. Joan Ferriby had come between them,
+as a woman is bound to come between two men sooner or later. Neither
+knew what the other thought of Joan Ferriby, or if he thought of her at
+all. Women, it is to be believed, have a pleasant way of mentioning the
+name of a man with such significance that one of their party changes
+colour. When next she meets that man she does it again, and perhaps he
+sees it, and perhaps his vanity, always on the alert, magnifies that
+unfortunate blush. And they are married, and live unhappily ever
+afterwards. And--let us hope there is a hell for gossips. But men are
+different in their procedure. They are awkward and _gauche_. They talk
+of newspaper matters, and on the whole there is less harm done.
+
+The hansom cab containing these two men pulled up jerkily at the door
+of No. 9, Cambridge Terrace. Tony Cornish hurried to the door, and rang
+the bell as if he knew it well. Major White followed him stiffly. They
+were ushered into a library on the ground floor, and were there
+received by a young lady, who, pen in hand, sat at a large table
+littered with newspaper wrappers.
+
+“I am addressing the Haberdashers' Assistants,” she said, “but I am
+very glad to see you.”
+
+Miss Joan Ferriby was one of those happy persons who never know a
+doubt. One must, it seems, be young to enjoy this nineteenth-century
+immunity. One must be pretty--it is, at all events, better to be
+pretty--and one must dress well. A little knowledge of the world, a
+decisive way of stating what pass at the moment for facts, a quick
+manner of speaking--and the rest comes _tout seul_. This cocksureness
+is in the atmosphere of the day, just as fainting and curls and an
+appealing helplessness were in the atmosphere of an earlier Victorian
+period.
+
+Miss Ferriby stood, pen in hand, and laughed at the confusion on the
+table in front of her. She was eminently practical, and quite without
+that self-consciousness which in a bygone day took the irritating form
+of coyness. Major White, with whom she shook hands _en camarade_, gazed
+at her solemnly.
+
+“Who are the Haberdashers' Assistants?” he asked.
+
+Miss Ferriby sat down with a grave face. “Oh, it is a splendid
+charity,” she answered. “Tony will tell you all about it. It is an
+association of which the object is to induce people to give up riding
+on Saturday afternoons, and to lend their bicycles to haberdashers'
+assistants who cannot afford to buy them for themselves. Papa is
+patron.”
+
+Cornish looked quickly from one to the other. He had always felt that
+Major White was not quite of the world in which Joan and he moved. The
+major came into it at times, looked around him, and then moved away
+again into another world, less energetic, less advanced, less rapid in
+its changes. Cornish had never sought to interest his friend in sundry
+good works in which Joan, for instance, was interested, and which
+formed a delightful topic for conversation at teatime.
+
+“It is so splendid,” said Joan, gathering up her papers, “to feel that
+one is really doing something.”
+
+And she looked up into White's face with an air of grave enthusiasm
+which made him drop his eye-glass.
+
+“Oh yes,” he answered, rather vaguely.
+
+Cornish had already seated himself at the table, and was folding the
+addressed newspaper wrappers over circulars printed on thick
+note-paper. This seemed a busy world into which White had stepped. He
+looked rather longingly at the newspaper wrappers and the circulars,
+and then lapsed into the contemplation of Joan's neat fingers as she
+too fell to the work.
+
+“We saw all about you,” said the girl, in her bright, decisive way, “in
+the newspapers. Papa read it aloud. He is always reading things aloud
+now, out of the _Times_. He thinks it is good practice for the
+platform, I am sure. We were all”--she paused and banged her energetic
+fist down upon a pile of folded circulars which seemed to require
+further pressure--“very proud, you know, to know you.”
+
+“Good Lord!” ejaculated White, fervently.
+
+“Well, why not?” asked Miss Ferriby, looking up. She had expressive
+eyes, and they now flashed almost angrily. “All English people----” she
+began, and broke off suddenly, throwing aside the papers and rising
+quickly to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on White's tunic. “Is that a
+medal?” she asked, hurrying towards him. “Oh, how splendid! Look, Tony,
+look! A medal! Is it”--she paused, looking at it closely--“is it--the
+Victoria Cross?” she asked, and stood looking from one man to the
+other, her eyes glistening with something more than excitement.
+
+“Um--yes,” admitted White.
+
+Tony Cornish had risen to his feet also. He held out his hand.
+
+“I did not know that,” he said.
+
+There was a pause. Tony and Joan returned to their circulars in an odd
+silence. The Haberdashers' Assistants seemed suddenly to have
+diminished in importance.
+
+“By-the-by,” said Joan Ferriby at length, “papa wants to see you, Tony.
+He has a new scheme. Something very large and very important. The only
+question is whether it is not too large. It is not only in England, but
+in other countries. A great international affair. Some distressed
+manufacturers or something. I really do not quite know. That Mr.
+Roden--you remember?--has been to see him about it.”
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick way. “I remember Roden,” he answered. “The
+man you met at Hombourg. Tall dark man with a tired manner.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Joan. “He has been to see papa several times. Papa is
+just as busy as ever with his charities,” she continued, addressing
+White. “And I believe he wants you to help him in this one.”
+
+“Me?” said White, nervously. “Oh, I'm no good. I should not know a
+haberdasher's assistant if I saw him.”
+
+“Oh, but this is not the Haberdashers' Assistants,” laughed Joan. “It
+is something much more important than that. The Haberdashers'
+Assistants are only----”
+
+“Pour passer le temps,” suggested Cornish, gaily.
+
+“No, of course not. But papa is really rather anxious about this. He
+says it is much the most important thing he has ever had to do
+with--and that is saying a good deal, you know. I wish I could remember
+the name of it, and of those poor unfortunate people who make
+it--whatever it is. It is some stuff, you know, and sounds sticky. Papa
+has so many charities, and such long names to them. Aunt Susan says it
+is because he was so wild in his youth--but one cannot believe that.
+Would you think that papa had been wild in his youth--to look at him
+now?”
+
+“Lord, no!” ejaculated White, with pious solidity, throwing back his
+shoulders with an air that seemed to suggest a readiness to fight any
+man who should hint at such a thing, and he waved the mere thought
+aside with a ponderous gesture of the hand.
+
+Joan had, however, already turned to another matter. She was consulting
+a diary bound in dark blue morocco.
+
+“Let me see, now,” she said. “Papa told me to make an appointment with
+you. When can you come?”
+
+Cornish produced a minute engagement-book, and these two busy people
+put their heads together in the search for a disengaged moment. Not
+only in mind, but in face and manner, they slightly resembled each
+other, and might, by the keen-sighted, have been set down at once as
+cousins. Both were fair and slightly made, both were quick and clever.
+Both faced the world with an air of energetic intelligence that bespoke
+their intention of making a mark upon it. Both were liable to be
+checked in a moment of earnest endeavour by a sudden perception of the
+humorous, which liability rendered them somewhat superficial, and apt
+of it lightly from one thought to another.
+
+“I wish I could remember the name of papa's new scheme,” said Joan, as
+she bade them good-bye. When they were in the cab she ran to the door.
+“I remember,” she cried. “I remember now. It is malgamite.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BEGINNING AT HOME.
+
+“Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but it does not
+relieve all the misery it creates.”
+
+
+Charity, as all the world knows, should begin at an “at home.” Lord
+Ferriby knew as well as any that there are men, and perhaps even women,
+who will give largely in order that their names may appear largely and
+handsomely in the select subscription lists. He also knew that an
+invitation card in the present is as sure a bait as the promise of
+bliss hereafter. So Lady Ferriby announced by card (in an open envelope
+with a halfpenny stamp) that she should be “at home” to certain persons
+on a certain evening. And the good and the great flocked to Cambridge
+Terrace. The good and great are, one finds, a little mixed, from a
+social point of view.
+
+There were present at Lady Ferriby's, for instance, a number of
+ministers, some cabinet, others dissenting. Here, a man leaning against
+the wall wore a blue ribbon across his shirt front. There, another,
+looking bigger and more self-confident, had no shirt front at all. His
+was the cheap distinction of unsuitable clothes.
+
+“Ha! Miss Ferriby, glad to see you,” he said as he entered, holding out
+a hand which had the usual outward signs of industrial honesty.
+
+Joan shook the hand frankly, and its possessor passed on.
+
+“Is that the gas-man?” inquired Major White, gravely. He had been
+standing beside her ever since his arrival, seeking, it seemed, the
+protection of one who understood these social functions. It is to be
+presumed that the major was less bewildered than he looked.
+
+“Hush!” And Joan said something hurriedly in White's large ear.
+“Everybody has him,” she concluded; and the explanation brought certain
+calm into the mildly surprised eye behind the eye-glass. White
+recognized the phrase and its conclusive contemporary weight.
+
+“Here's a flat-backed man!” he exclaimed, with a ring of relief. “Been
+drilled, this man. Gad! He's proud!” added the major, as the
+new-comer passed Joan with rather a cold bow.
+
+“Oh, that's the detective,” explained Joan. “So many people, you know;
+and so mixed. Everybody has them. Here's Tony--at last.”
+
+Tony Cornish was indeed making his way through the crowd towards them.
+He shook hands with a bishop as he elbowed a path across the room, and
+did it with the pious face of a self-respecting curate. The next minute
+he was prodding a sporting baronet in the ribs at the precise moment
+when that nobleman reached the point of his little story and on the
+precise rib where he expected to be prodded. It is always wise to do
+the expected.
+
+At the sight of Tony Cornish, Joan's face became grave, and she turned
+towards him with her little frown of preoccupation, such as one might
+expect to find upon the face of a woman concerned in the great
+movements of the day. But before Tony reached her the expression
+changed to a very feminine and even old-fashioned one of annoyance.
+
+“Oh, here comes mother!” she said, looking beyond Cornish, who was
+indeed being pursued by a wizened little old lady.
+
+Lady Ferriby, it seemed, was not enjoying herself. She glanced
+suspiciously from one face to another, as if she was seeking a friend
+without any great hope of finding one. Perhaps, like many another, she
+looked upon the world from that point Of view.
+
+Cornish hurried up and shook hands. “Plenty of people,” he said.
+
+“Oh yes,” answered Joan, earnestly. “It only shows that there is, after
+all, a great deal of good in human nature, that in such a movement as
+this rich and poor, great and small, are all equal.”
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick sympathetic way, accepting as we all accept
+the social statements of the day, which are oft repeated and never
+weighed. Then he turned to White and tapped that soldier's arm
+emphatically.
+
+“Way to get on nowadays,” he said, “is to be prominent in some great
+movement for benefiting mankind.” Joan heard the words, and, turning,
+looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.
+
+“And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan,” he said, with a
+gravity which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off
+instantly, as if swept away by the ready smile which came again. A
+close observer might have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real
+Tony Cornish.
+
+Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary
+never changed.
+
+Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment--a silent, querulous-looking
+woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
+wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which
+commands respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady
+Ferriby, and had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when
+she approached. And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance,
+her bent and shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with
+a romantic past. It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion
+of Lady Ferriby's world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and
+recognized the melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic
+attachment in the days of one's youth.
+
+“Tony,” said her ladyship, “they have eaten all the sandwiches.”
+
+And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony
+Cornish's arm with her fan that suggested in a far-off, cold way that
+this social butterfly had reached one of the still strings of her
+heart. Who knows? There may have been, in those dim days when Lady
+Ferriby had played her part in the romantic story which all hinted at
+and none knew, another such as Tony Cornish--gay and debonair,
+careless, reckless, and yet endowed with the power of making some poor
+woman happy.
+
+“My dear aunt,” replied Cornish, with a levity with which none other
+ever dared to treat her, “the benevolent are always greedy. And each
+additional virtue--temperance, loving-kindness, humility--only serves
+to dull the sense of humour and add to the appetite. Give them
+biscuits, aunt.”
+
+And offering her his arm, he good-naturedly led her to the
+refreshment-room to investigate the matter. As she passed through the
+crowded rooms, she glanced from face to face with her quick, seeking
+look. She cordially disliked all these people. And their principal
+crime was that they ate and drank. For Lady Ferriby was a miser.
+
+At the upper end of the room a low platform served as a safe retreat
+for sleepy chaperons on such occasions as the annual Ferriby ball.
+ To-night there were no chaperons. Is not charity the safest as well as
+the most lenient of these? And does her wing not cover a multitude of
+indiscretions?
+
+Upon this platform there now appeared, amid palms and chrysanthemums, a
+long, rotund man like a bolster. He held a paper in his hand and wore a
+platform smile. His attitude was that of one who hesitated to demand
+silence from so well-bred a throng. His high, narrow forehead shone in
+the light of the candelabra. This was Lord Ferriby--a man whose best
+friend did his best for him in describing him as well-meaning. He gave
+a cough which had sufficient significance in it to command a momentary
+quiet. During the silence, a well-dressed parson stood on tiptoe and
+whispered something in Lord Ferriby's ear. The suggestion, whatever it
+may have been, was negated by the speaker on receipt of a warning shake
+of the head from Joan.
+
+“Er--ladies and gentlemen,” said Lord Ferriby, and gained the necessary
+silence. “Er--you all know the purpose of our meeting here to-night.
+You all know that Lady Ferriby and myself are much honoured by your
+presence here. And--er--I am sure----” He did not, however, appear to be
+quite sure, for he consulted his paper, and the colonial bishop near
+the yellow chrysanthemums said, “Hear, hear!”
+
+“And I am sure that we are, one and all, actuated by a burning desire
+to relieve the terrible distress which has been going on unknown to us
+in our very midst.”
+
+“He has missed out half a page,” said Joan to Major White, who somehow
+found himself at her side again.
+
+“This is no place, and we have at the moment no time, to go into the
+details of the manufacture of malgamite. Suffice it to say, that such
+a--er--composition exists, and that it is a necessity in the
+manufacture of paper. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the painful fact has
+been brought to light by my friend Mr. Roden----” His lordship paused,
+and looked round with a half-fledged bow, but failed to find Roden.
+
+“By--er--Mr. Roden that the manufacture of malgamite is one of the
+deadliest of industries. In fact, the makers of malgamite, and
+fortunately they are comparatively few in number, stricken as they are
+by a corroding disease, occupy in our midst the--er--place of the
+lepers of the Bible.”
+
+Here Lord Ferriby bowed affably to the bishop, as if to say, “And that
+is where _you_ come in.”
+
+“We--er--live in an age,” went on Lord Ferriby--and the practical Joan
+nodded her head to indicate that he was on the right track now--“when
+charity is no longer a matter of sentiment, but rather a very practical
+and forcible power in the world. We do not ask your assistance in a
+vague and visionary crusade against suffering. We ask you to help us in
+the development of a definite scheme for the amelioration of the
+condition of our fellow-beings.”
+
+Lord Ferriby spoke not with the ease of long practice, but with the
+assurance of one accustomed to being heard with patience. He now waited
+for the applause to die away.
+
+“Who put him up to it?” Major White asked Joan.
+
+“Mr. Roden wrote the speech, and I taught it to papa,” was the answer.
+
+At this moment Cornish hurried up in his busy way. Indeed, these people
+seemed to have little time on their hands. They belonged to a
+generation which is much addicted to unnecessary haste.
+
+“Seen Roden?” he asked, addressing his question to Joan and her
+companion jointly.
+
+“Never in my life,” answered Major White. “Is he worth seeing?”
+
+But Cornish hurried away again. Lord Ferriby was still speaking, but he
+seemed to have lost the ear of his audience, and had lapsed into
+generalities. A few who were near the platform listened attentively
+enough. Some who hoped that they were to be asked to speak applauded
+hurriedly and finally whenever the speaker paused to take breath.
+
+The world is full of people who will not give their money, but offer
+readily enough what they call their “time” to a good cause. Lord
+Ferriby was lavish with his “time,” and liked to pass it in hearing the
+sound of his own voice. Every social circle has its talkers, who hang
+upon each other's periods in expectance of the moment when they can
+successfully push in their own word. Lord Ferriby, looking round upon
+faces well known to him, saw half a dozen men who spoke upon all
+occasions with a sublime indifference to the fact that they knew
+nothing of the subject in hand. With the least encouragement any one of
+them would have stepped on to the platform bubbling over with
+eloquence. Lord Ferriby was quite clever enough to perceive the danger.
+He must go on talking until Roden was found. Had not the pushing parson
+already intimated in a whisper that he had a few earnest thoughts in
+his mind which he would be glad to get off?
+
+Lord Ferriby knew those earnest thoughts, and their inevitable tendency
+to send the audience to the refreshment-room, where, as Lady Ferriby's
+husband, he suspected poverty in the land.
+
+“Is not Mr. Cornish going to speak?” a young lady eagerly inquired of
+Joan. She was a young lady who wore spectacles and scorned a fringe--a
+dangerous course of conduct for any young woman to follow. But she made
+up for natural and physical deficiencies by an excess of that zeal
+which Talleyrand deplored.
+
+“I think not,” answered Joan. “He never speaks in public, you know.”
+
+“I wonder why?” said the young lady, sharply and rather angrily.
+
+Joan shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She sometimes wondered why
+herself, but Tony had never satisfied her curiosity. The young lady
+moved away and talked to others of the same matter. There were quite a
+number of people in the room who wanted to know why Tony Cornish did
+not speak, and wished he would. The way to rule the world is to make it
+want something, and keep it wanting.
+
+“I make so bold as to hope,” Lord Ferriby was saying, “that when
+sufficient publicity has been given to our scheme we shall be able to
+raise the necessary funds. In the fulness of this hope, I have ventured
+to jot down the names of certain gentlemen who have been kind enough to
+assume the trusteeship. I propose, therefore, that the trustees of the
+Malgamite Fund shall be--er--myself----”
+
+Like a practiced speaker, Lord Ferriby paused for the applause which
+duly followed. And certain elderly gentlemen, who had been young when
+Marmaduke Ferriby was young, looked with much interest at the pictures
+on the wall. That Lord Ferriby should assume the directorship of a
+great charity was to send that charity on its way rejoicing. He stood
+smiling benevolently and condescendingly down upon the faces turned
+towards him, and rejoiced inwardly over these glorious obsequies of a
+wild and deplorable past.
+
+“Mr. Anthony Cornish,” he read out, and applause made itself heard
+again.
+
+“Major White.”
+
+And the listeners turned round and stared at that hero, whom they
+discovered calmly and stolidly entrenched behind the eye-glass, his
+broad, tanned face surmounting a shirt front of abnormal width.
+
+“Herr von Holzen.”
+
+No one seemed to know Herr von Holzen, or to care much whether he
+existed or not.
+
+“And--my--er--friend--the originator of this great scheme--the man whom
+we all look up to as the benefactor of a most miserable class of
+men--Mr. Percy Roden.”
+
+Lord Ferriby meant the listeners to applaud, and they did so, although
+they had never heard the name before. He folded the paper held in his
+hand, and indicated by his manner that he had for the moment nothing
+more to say. From his point of advantage he scanned the whole length of
+the large room, evidently seeking some one. Anthony Cornish had been
+the second name mentioned, and the majority hoped that it was he who
+was to speak next. They anticipated that he, at all events, would be
+lively, and in addition to this recommendation there hovered round his
+name that mysterious charm which is in itself a subtle form of
+notoriety. People said of Tony Cornish that he would get on in the
+world; and upon this slender ladder he had attained social success.
+
+But Cornish was not in the room, and after waiting a few moments, Lord
+Ferriby came down from the platform, and joined some of the groups of
+persons in the large room. For already the audience was breaking up
+into small parties, and the majority, it is to be feared, were by now
+talking of other matters. In these days we cannot afford to give
+sufficient time to any one object to do that object or ourselves any
+lasting good.
+
+Presently there was a stir at the door, and Cornish entered the large
+room, followed leisurely by a tired-looking man, for whom the idlers
+near the doorway seemed instinctively to make way. This man was tall,
+square-shouldered, and loose of limb. He had smooth dark hair, and
+carried his head thrown rather back from the neck. His eyes were dark,
+and the fact that a considerable line of white was visible beneath the
+pupil imparted to his whole being an air of physical delicacy
+suggestive of a constant feeling of fatigue.
+
+“Who is this?” asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid
+curiosity which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening.
+
+“Oh, that,” said Joan, looking towards the door--“that is Mr. Percy
+Roden.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A NEW DISCIPLE.
+
+“Pour être heureux, il ne faut avoir rien à oublier.”
+
+
+There is in the atmosphere of the Hotel of the Vieux Doelen at The
+Hague something as old-world, as quiet and peaceful, as there is in the
+very name of this historic house. The stairs are softly carpeted; the
+great rooms are hung with tapestry, and otherwise decorated in a
+massive and somewhat gloomy style, little affected in the newer
+_caravanserais_. The house itself, more than three hundred years old,
+is of dark red brick with facings of stone, long since worn by wind and
+weather. The windows are enormous, and would appear abnormal in any
+other city but this. The Hotel of the Old Shooting gallery stands on
+the Toornoifeld and the unobservant may pass by without distinguishing
+it from the private houses on either side. This, indeed, is not so much
+a house of hasty rest for the passing traveler as it is a halting-place
+for that great army which is ever moving quietly on and on through the
+cities of the Old World--the corps diplomatique--the army whose
+greatest victory is peace. The traveller passing a night or two at the
+hotel may well be faintly surprised at the atmosphere in which he finds
+himself. If he be what is called a practical man, he will probably
+shake his head forebodingly over the prospects of the proprietor. There
+seems, indeed, to be a singular dearth of visitors. The winding stairs
+are nearly always deserted. The _salon_ is empty. There are no sounds
+of life, no trunks in the hall, and no idlers at the door. And yet at
+the hour of the _table d'hôte_ quiet doors are opened, and quiet men
+emerge from rooms that seemed before to be uninhabited. They are mostly
+smooth-haired men with a pensive reserve of manner, a certain polished
+cosmopolitan air, and the inevitable frock-coat. They bow gravely to
+each other, and seat themselves at separate tables. As often as not
+they produce books or newspapers, and read during the solemn meal. It
+is as well to watch these men and take note of them. Many of them are
+grey-headed. No one of them is young. But they are beginners, mere
+apprentices, at a very difficult trade, and in the days to come they
+will have the making of the history of Europe. For these men are
+attachés and secretaries of embassies. They will talk to you in almost
+any European tongue you may select, but they are not communicative
+persons.
+
+During the winter--the gay season at The Hague--there are usually a
+certain number of residents in the hotel. At the time with which we are
+dealing, Mrs. Vansittart was staying there, alone with her maid. Mrs.
+Vansittart was in the habit of dining at the small table near the
+stove--a gorgeous erection of steel and brass, which stands nearly in
+the centre of the smaller dining-room used in winter. Mrs. Vansittart
+seemed, moreover, to be quite at home in the hotel, and exchanged bows
+with a few of the gentlemen of the corps diplomatique. She was a
+graceful, dark-haired woman, with deep brown eyes that looked upon the
+world without much interest. This was not, one felt, a woman to lavish
+her attention or her thoughts upon a toy spaniel, as do so many ladies
+travelling alone with their maids in Continental hotels. Perhaps this
+woman of thirty-five years or so preferred to be frankly bored, rather
+than set up for herself a shivering four-legged object in life. Perhaps
+she was not bored at all. One never knows. The gentlemen from the
+embassies glanced at her over their books or their newspapers, and
+wondered who and what she might be. They knew, at all events, that she
+took no interest in those affairs of the great world which rumble on
+night and day without rest, with spasmodic bursts of clumsy haste, and
+with a never-failing possibility of surprise in their movements. This
+was no political woman, whatever else she might be. She would talk in
+quite a number of languages of such matters as the opera, a new book,
+or an old picture, and would then relapse again into a sort of waiting
+silence. At thirty-five it is perhaps not well to wait too patiently
+for those things that make a woman's life worth living. Mrs. Vansittart
+had not the air, however, of one who would wait indefinitely.
+
+When Mr. Percy Roden arrived at the hotel, he was assigned, at the hour
+of _table d'hôte_, a small table between those occupied respectively by
+Mrs. Vansittart and the secretary of the Belgian Embassy. Some subtle
+sense conveyed to Percy Roden that he had aroused Mrs. Vansittart's
+interest--the sense called vanity, perhaps, which conveys so much to
+young men, and so much that is erroneous. On the second evening,
+therefore, when he had returned from a busy day in the neighbourhood of
+Scheveningen, Roden half looked for the bow which was half accorded to
+him. That evening Mrs. Vansittart spoke to the waiter in English, which
+was obviously her native language, and Roden overheard. After dinner
+Mrs. Vansittart lingered in the _salon_ and a woman, had such been
+present, would have perceived that she made it easy for Roden to pause
+in passing and offer her his English newspaper, which had arrived by
+the evening post. The subtle is so often the obvious that to be
+unobservant is a social duty.
+
+“Thank you,” she replied. “I like newspapers. Although I have not been
+in England for years, I still take an interest in the affairs of my
+country.”
+
+Her manner was easy and natural, without that taint of a too sudden
+familiarity which is characteristic of the present generation. We are
+apt to allow ourselves to feel too much at home.
+
+“I, on the contrary,” replied Roden, with his tired air, “have never
+till now been out of England or English-speaking colonies.”
+
+His voice had a hollow sound. Although he was tall and
+broad-shouldered, his presence had no suggestion of strength. Mrs.
+Vansittart looked at him quickly as she took the newspaper from his
+hand. She had clever, speculative eyes, and was obviously wondering why
+he had gone to the colonies and why he had returned thence. So many
+sail to those distant havens of the unsuccessful under one cloud and
+return under another, that it seems wiser to remain stationary and
+snatch what passing sunshine there may be. Roden had not a colonial
+manner. He was well dressed. He was, in fact, the sort of man who would
+pass in any society. And it is probable that Mrs. Vansittart summed him
+up in her quick mind with perfect success. Despite our clothes, despite
+our airs and graces, we mostly appear to be exactly what we are. Mrs.
+Vansittart, who knew the world and men, did not need to be informed by
+Percy Roden that he was unacquainted with the Continent. Comparing him
+with the other men passing through the _salon_ to their rooms or their
+club, it became apparent that he had one sort of stiffness which they
+had not, and lacked another sort of stiffness which grows upon those
+who live and take their meals in public places. Mrs. Vansittart could
+probably have made a fair guess at the sort of education Percy Roden
+had received. For a man carries his school mark through life with him.
+
+“Ah,” she said, taking the newspaper and glancing at it with just
+sufficient interest to prolong the conversation, “then you do not know
+The Hague. It is a place that grows upon one. It is one of the social
+capitals of the world. Vienna, St. Petersburg, Paris, are the others.
+Madrid, Berlin, New York, are--nowhere.”
+
+She laughed, bowed with a little half--foreign gesture of thanks, and
+left him--left him, moreover, with the desire to see more of her. It
+seemed that she knew the secret of that other worldling, Tony Cornish,
+that the way to rule men is to make them want something and keep them
+wanting. As Roden passed through the hall he paused, and entered into
+conversation with the hall porter. During the course of this talk he
+made some small inquiries respecting Mrs. Vansittart. That lady had no
+need to make inquiries respecting Roden. Has it not been stated that
+she was travelling with her maid?
+
+“I see,” she said, when she saw him again the next day after dinner in
+the _salon_, “that your great philanthropic scheme is now an
+established fact. I have taken a great interest in its progress, and of
+course know the names of some who are associated with you in it.”
+
+Roden laughed indifferently, well pleased to be recognized. His
+notoriety was new enough and narrow enough to please him still. There
+is no man so much at the mercy of his own vanity as he who enjoys a
+limited notoriety.
+
+“Yes,” he answered, “we have got it into shape. Do you know Lord
+Ferriby?”
+
+“No,” answered Mrs. Vansittart, slowly, “I have not that pleasure.
+
+“Oh, Ferriby is a good enough fellow,” said Roden, kindly; and Mrs.
+Vansittart gave a little nod as she looked at him. Roden had drawn
+forward a chair, and she sat down, after a moment's hesitation, in
+front of the open fire.
+
+“So I have always heard,” she answered, “and a great philanthropist.”
+
+“Oh--yes.” Roden paused and took a chair. “Oh yes; but Tony Cornish is
+our right-hand man. The people seem to place greater faith in him than
+they do in Lord Ferriby. When it is Cornish who asks, they give readily
+enough. He is business-like and quick, and that always tells in the
+long run.”
+
+Percy Roden seemed disposed to be communicative, and Mrs. Vansittart's
+attitude was distinctly encouraging. She leant sideways on the arm of
+her chair, and looked at her companion with speculation in her
+intelligent eyes. She was perhaps reflecting that this was not the sort
+of man one usually finds engaged in philanthropic enterprise. It is
+likely that her thoughts were of this nature, and were, as thoughts so
+often are, transmitted silently to her companion's mind, for he
+proceeded, unasked, to explain.
+
+“It is not, properly speaking, a charity, you know,” he said. “It is
+more in the nature of a trade union. This is a practical age, Mrs.
+Vansittart, and it is necessary that charity should keep pace with the
+march of progress and be self-supporting.”
+
+There was a faint suggestion of glibness in his manner. It was probable
+that he had made use of the same arguments before.
+
+“And who else is associated with you in this great enterprise?” asked
+the lady, keeping him with the cleverness of her sex upon the subject
+in which he was obviously deeply interested. The shrewdest women
+usually treat men thus, and they generally know what subject interests
+a man most--namely, himself.
+
+“Herr von Holzen is the most important person,” replied Roden.
+
+“Ah!” said Mrs. Vansittart, looking into the fire; “and who is Herr von
+Holzen?”
+
+Roden paused for a moment, and the lady, looking half indifferently
+into the fire, noticed the hesitation.
+
+“Oh, he is a scientist--a professor at one of the universities over
+here, I believe. At all events, he is a very clever fellow--analytical
+chemist and all that, you know. It is he who has made the discovery
+upon which we are working. He has always been interested in malgamite,
+and he has now found out how it may be manufactured without injury to
+the workers. Malgamite, you understand, is an essential in the
+manufacture of paper, and the world will never require less paper than
+it does now, but more. Look at the tons that pass through the
+post-offices daily. Paper-making is one of the great industries of the
+world, and without malgamite, paper cannot be made at a profit to-day.”
+
+Roden seemed to have his subject at his fingers' ends, and if he spoke
+without enthusiasm, the reason was probably that he had so often said
+the same thing before.
+
+“I am much interested,” said Mrs. Vansittart, in her half-foreign way,
+which was rather pleasing. “Tell me more about it.”
+
+“The malgamite makers,” went on Roden, willingly enough, “are
+fortunately but few in numbers and they are experts. They are to be
+found in twos and threes in manufacturing cities--Amsterdam,
+Gothenburg, Leith, New York, and even Barcelona. Of course there are a
+number in England. Our scheme, briefly, is to collect these men
+together, to build a manufactory and houses for them--to form them, in
+fact, into a close corporation, and then supply the world with
+malgamite.”
+
+“It is a great scheme, Mr. Roden.”
+
+“Yes, it is a great scheme; and it is, I think, laid upon the right
+lines. These people require to be saved from themselves. As they now
+exist, they are well paid. They are engaged in a deadly industry, and
+know it. There is nothing more demoralizing to human nature than this
+knowledge. They have a short and what they take to be a merry life.”
+ The tired--looking man paused and spread out his hands in a gesture of
+careless scorn. He had almost allowed himself to lapse into enthusiasm.
+“There is no reason,” he went on, “why they should not become a happy
+and respectable community. The first thing we shall have to teach them
+is that their industry is comparatively harmless, as it will
+undoubtedly be with Von Holzen's new process. The rest will, I think,
+come naturally. Altered circumstances will alter the people
+themselves.”
+
+“And where do you intend to build this manufactory?” inquired Mrs.
+Vansittart, to whom was vouch-safed that rare knowledge of the fine
+line that is to be drawn between a kindly interest and a vulgar
+curiosity. The two are nearer than is usually suspected.
+
+“Here in Holland,” was the reply. “I have almost decided on the
+spot--on the dunes to the north of Scheveningen. That is why I am
+staying at The Hague. There are many reasons why this coast is
+suitable. We shall be in touch with the canal system, and we shall have
+a direct outfall to the sea for our refuse, which is necessary. I shall
+have to live in The Hague--my sister and I.”
+
+“Ah! You have a sister?” said Mrs. Vansittart, turning in her chair and
+looking at him. A woman's interest in a man's undertaking is invariably
+centred upon that point where another woman comes into it.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Unmarried?”
+
+“Yes; Dorothy is unmarried.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave several quick little nods of the head.
+
+“I am wondering two things,” she said--“whether she is like you, and
+whether she is interested in this scheme. But I am wondering more than
+that. Is she pretty, Mr. Roden?”
+
+“Yes, I think she is pretty.”
+
+“I am glad of that. I like girls to be pretty. It makes their lives so
+much more interesting--to the onlooker, _bien entendu_, but not to
+themselves. The happiest women I have known have been the plain ones.
+But perhaps your sister will be pretty and happy too. That would be so
+nice, and so very rare, Mr. Roden. I shall look forward to making her
+acquaintance. I live in The Hague, you know. I have a house in Park
+Straat, and I am only at this hotel while the painters are in
+possession. You will allow me to call on your sister when she joins
+you?”
+
+“We shall be most gratified,” said Roden.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had risen with a little glance at the clock, and her
+companion rose also. “I am greatly interested in your scheme,” she
+said. “Much more than I can tell you. It is so refreshing to find
+charity in such close connection with practical common sense. I think
+you are doing a great work, Mr. Roden.”
+
+“I do what I can,” he replied, with a bow.
+
+“And Mr. Von Holzen,” inquired Mrs. Vansittart, stopping for a moment
+as she moved towards the doorway, which is large and hung with
+curtains--“does Mr. Von Holzen work from purely philanthropic motives
+also?”
+
+“Well--yes, I think so. Though, of course, he, like myself, will be
+paid a salary. Perhaps, however, he is more interested in malgamite
+from a scientific point of view.”
+
+“Ah, yes, from a scientific point of view, of course. Good night, Mr.
+Roden.”
+
+And she left him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+OUT OF EGYPT.
+
+“Un esclave est moins celui qu'on vend que celui qui se donne”
+
+
+A sea fog was blowing across the smooth surface of the Maas where that
+river is broad and shallow, and a steamer anchored in the channel, grim
+and motionless, gave forth a grunt of warning from time to time, while
+a boy with mittened hands rang the bell hung high on the forecastle
+with a dull monotony. The wind blowing from the south-east drove before
+it the endless fog which hummed through the rigging, and hung there in
+little icicles that pointed to leeward. On the bridge of the steamer,
+looking like a huge woollen barrel surmounted by a comforter and a cap
+with ear-flaps, the Dutch pilot stood philosophically at his post. Near
+him the captain, mindful of the company's time-tables, walked with a
+quick, impatient step. The fog was blowing past at the rate of four or
+five miles an hour, but the supply of it, emanating from the low lands
+bordering the Scheldt, seemed to be inexhaustible. This fog, indeed,
+blows across Holland nearly the whole winter.
+
+The steamer's deck was covered with ice, over which sand had been
+strewn. The passengers were below in the warm saloon. Only the
+blue-faced boy at the bell on the forecastle was on the main-deck. At
+times one of the watch hurried from the galley to the forecastle with a
+pannikin of steaming coffee. The vessel had been anchored since
+daybreak and the sound of other bells and other whistles far and near
+told that she was not alone in these waters. The distant boom of a
+steamer creeping cautiously down from Rotterdam seemed to promise that
+farther inland the fog was thinner. A silence, broken only by the
+whisper of the wind through the rigging, reigned over all, so that men
+listened with anticipations of relief for the sound of answering bells.
+The sky at length grew a little lighter, and presently gaps made their
+appearance in the fog, allowing peeps over the green and still water.
+
+The captain and the pilot exchanged a few words--the very shortest of
+consultations. They had been on the bridge together all night, and had
+said all that there was to be said about wind and weather. The captain
+gave a sharp order in his gruff voice, and, as if by magic, the watch
+on deck appeared from all sides. The chief officer emerged from his
+cabin beneath the wheel-house, and went forward into the fog, turning
+up his collar. Presently the jerk and clink of the steam-winch told
+that the anchor was being got home. The fog had been humoured for six
+hours, and the time had now come to move on through thick or thin. What
+should Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, know of a fog on the Maas? And there
+were mails and passengers on board this steamer. The clink of the winch
+brought one of these on deck. Within the high collar of his fur coat,
+beneath the brim of a felt hat pulled well down, the keen; fair face of
+Mr. Anthony Cornish came peering up the gangway to the upper bridge. He
+exchanged a nod with the captain and the pilot; for with these he had
+already been in conversation at the breakfast-table. He took his
+station on the bridge behind them, with his hands deep in the pockets
+of his loose coat, a cigarette between his lips. A shout from the
+forecastle soon intimated that the anchor was up, and the captain gave
+the order to the boy at the engine-room telegraph. Through the fog the
+forms of the three men on the look-out on the forecastle were dimly
+discernible. The great steamer crept cautiously forward into the fog.
+The second mate, with his hand on the whistle-line, blared out his
+warning note every half-minute. A dim shadow loomed up on the
+port-side, which presently took the form of a great steamer at anchor,
+and was left behind with a ringing bell and a booming whistle. Another
+shadow turned out to be a pilot-cutter, and the Dutch pilot exchanged a
+shouted consultation with an invisible person whom he called “Thou,”
+ and who replied to the imperfectly heard questions with the words,
+“South East.” This shadow also was left behind, faintly calling, “South
+East,” “South East.”
+
+“It is a white buoy that I seek,” said the pilot, turning to those on
+the bridge behind him, his jolly red face puckered with anxiety. And
+quite suddenly the second officer, a bright-red Scotchman with little
+blue eyes like tempered gimlets, threw out a red hand and pointing
+finger.
+
+“There she rides,” he said. “There she rides; staar boarrrd your
+hellum!”
+
+And a full thirty seconds elapsed before any other eyes could pierce
+that gloom and perceive a great white buoy bowing solemnly towards the
+steamer like a courtier bidding a sovereign welcome. One voice had
+seemed to be gradually dominating the din of the many warning whistles
+that sounded ahead, astern, and all around the steamer. This voice,
+like that of a strong man knowing his own mind in an assembly of
+excited and unstable counsellors, had long been raised with a
+persistence which at last seemed to command all others, and the steamer
+moved steadily towards it; for it was the siren fog-horn at the
+pier-head. At one moment it seemed to be quite near, and at the next
+far away; for the ears, unaided by the eyes, can but imperfectly focus
+sound or measure its distance.
+
+“At last!” said the captain, suddenly, the anxiety wiped away from his
+face as if by magic. “At last, I hear the cranes aworking on the quay.”
+
+The purser had come to the bridge, and now approached Cornish.
+
+“Are you going to land them at the Hook or take them on to Rotterdam,
+sir?” he asked.
+
+“Oh, land 'em at the Hook,” replied Cornish, readily. “Have you fed
+them?”
+
+“Yes, sir. They have had their breakfast--such as it is. Poor eaters I
+call them, sir.”
+
+“Yes.” said Cornish, turning and looking at his burly interlocutor.
+“Yes, I do not suppose they eat much.”
+
+The purser shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention to other
+affairs, thoughtfully. The little, beacon at the head of the pier had
+suddenly loomed out of the fog not fifty yards away--a very needle in a
+pottle of hay, which the cunning of the pilot had found.
+
+“Who are they, at any rate--these hundred and twenty ghosts of men?”
+ asked the sailor, abruptly.
+
+“They are malgamite workers,” answered Cornish, cheerily. “And I am
+going to make men of them--not ghosts.”
+
+The purser looked at him, laughed in rather a puzzled way, and quitted
+the bridge. Cornish remained there, taking a quick, intelligent
+interest in the manoeuvres by which the great steamer was being brought
+alongside the quay. He seemed to have already forgotten the hundred and
+twenty men in the second-class cabin. His touch was indeed hopelessly
+light. He understood how it was that the steamer was made to obey, but
+he could not himself have brought her alongside. Cornish was a true son
+of a generation which understands much of many things, but not quite
+sufficient of any one.
+
+He stood at the upper end of the gangway as the malgamite workers filed
+off--a sorry crew, narrow-chested, hollow-eyed, with that
+half-hopeless, half-reckless air that tells of a close familiarity with
+disease and death. He nodded to them airily as they passed him. Some of
+them took the trouble to answer his salutation, others seemed
+indifferent. A few glanced at him with a sort of dull wonder. And
+indeed this man was not of the material of which great philanthropists
+are made. He was cheerful and heedless, shallow and superficial.
+
+“Get 'em into the train,” he said to an official at his side; and then,
+seeing that he had not been understood, gave the order glibly enough in
+another language.
+
+The ill-clad travellers shuffled up the gangway and through the
+custom-house. Few seemed to take an interest in their surroundings.
+They exchanged no comments, but walked side by side in silence--dumb
+and driven animals. Some of them bore signs of disease. A few stumbled
+as they went. One or two were half blind, with groping hands. That they
+were of different nationalities was plain enough. Here a Jew from
+Vienna, with the fear of the Judenhetze in his eyes, followed on the
+heels of a tow-headed giant from Stockholm. A cunning cockney touched
+his hat as he passed, and rather ostentatiously turned to help a
+white-haired little Italian over the inequalities of the gangway. One
+thing only they had in common--their deadly industry. One shadow lay
+over them all--the shadow of death. A momentary gravity passed across
+Cornish's face. These men were as far removed from him as the crawling
+beetle is from the butterfly. Who shall say, however, that the butterfly
+sees nothing but the flowers?
+
+As they passed him, some of them edged away with a dull humility for
+fear their poor garments should touch his fur coat. One, carrying a
+bird-cage, half paused, with a sort of pride, that Cornish might obtain
+a fuller view of a depressed canary. The malgamite workers of this
+winter's morning on the pier of Hoek were not the interesting
+industrials of Lady Ferriby's drawing-room. There their lives had been
+spoken of as short and merry. Here the merriment was scarcely
+perceptible. The mystery of the dangerous industries is one of those
+mysteries of human nature which cannot be explained by even the
+youngest of novelists. That dangerous industries exist we all know and
+deplore. That the supply of men and women ready to take employment in
+such industries is practically inexhaustible is a fact worth at least a
+moment's attention.
+
+Cornish made the necessary arrangements with the railway officials, and
+carefully counted his charges, who were already seated in the carriages
+reserved for them. He must at all events be allowed the virtues of a
+generation which is eminently practical and capable of overcoming the
+small difficulties of everyday life. He was quick to decide and prompt
+to act.
+
+Then he seated himself in a carriage alone, with a sigh of relief at
+the thought that in a few days he would be back in London. His
+responsibility ended at The Hague, where he was to hand over the
+malgamite workers to the care of Roden and Von Holzen. They were
+rather a depressing set of men, and Holland, as seen from the carriage
+window--a snow-clad plain intersected by frozen ditches and
+canals--was no more enlivening. The temperature was deadly cold; the
+dull houses were rime-covered and forbidding. The malgamite makers had
+been gathered together from all parts of the world in a home specially
+organized for them in London. A second detachment was awaiting their
+orders at Hamburg. But the principal workers were these now placed
+under Cornish's care.
+
+During the days of their arrival, when they had to be met and housed
+and cared for, the visionary part of this great scheme had slowly faded
+before a somewhat grim reality. Joan Ferriby had found the malgamite
+workers less picturesque than she had anticipated.
+
+“If they only washed,” she had confided to Major White, “I am sure they
+would be easier to deal with.” And after talking French very
+vivaciously and boldly with a man from Lyons, she hurried back to the
+West End, and to the numerous engagements which naturally take up much
+of one's time when Lent is approaching, and dilatory hospitality is
+stirred up by the startling collapse of the Epiphany Sundays.
+
+Here, however, were the malgamite workers and they had to be dealt
+with. It was not quite what many had anticipated, perhaps, and Cornish
+was looking forward with undisguised pleasure to the moment when he
+could rid himself of these persons whom Joan had gaily designated as
+“rather gruesome,” and whom he frankly recognized as sordid and
+uninteresting. He did not even look, as Joan had looked, to the wives
+and children who were to follow as likely to prove more picturesque and
+engaging.
+
+The train made its way cautiously over the fog-ridden plain, and
+Cornish shivered as he looked out of the window. “Schiedam,” the
+porters called. This, Schiedam? A mere village, and yet the name was so
+familiar. The world seemed suddenly to have grown small and sordid. A
+few other stations with historic names, and then The Hague.
+
+Cornish quitted his carriage, and found himself shaking hands with
+Roden, who was awaiting him on the platform, clad in a heavy fur coat.
+Roden looked clever and capable--cleverer and more capable than Cornish
+had even suspected--and the organization seemed perfect. The reserved
+carriages had been in readiness at the Hook. The officials were
+prepared.
+
+“I have omnibuses and carts for them and their luggage,” were the first
+words that Roden spoke.
+
+Cornish instinctively placed himself under Roden's orders. The man had
+risen immensely in his estimation since the arrival in London of the
+first malgamite maker. The grim reality of the one had enhanced the
+importance of the other. Cornish had been engaged in so many charities
+_pour rire_ that the seriousness of this undertaking was apt to
+exaggerate itself in his mind--if, indeed, the seriousness of anything
+dwelt there at all.
+
+
+“I counted them all over at the Hook,” he said. “One hundred and
+twenty--pretty average scoundrels.”
+
+“Yes; they are not much to look at,” answered Roden.
+
+And the two men stood side by side watching the malgamite workers, who
+now quitted the train and stood huddled together in a dull apathy on
+the roomy platform.
+
+“But you will soon get them into shape, no doubt,” said Cornish, with
+characteristic optimism. He was essentially of a class that has always
+some one at hand to whom to relegate tasks which it could do more
+effectually and more quickly for itself. The secret of human happiness
+is to be dependent upon as few human beings as possible.
+
+“Oh yes! We shall soon get them into shape--the sea air and all that,
+you know.”
+
+Roden looked at his _protégés_ with large, sad eyes, in which there was
+alike no enthusiasm and no spark of human kindness. Cornish wondered
+vaguely what he was thinking about. The thoughts were certainly tinged
+with pessimism, and lacked entirely the blindness of an enthusiasm by
+which men are urged to endeavour great things for the good of the
+masses, and to make, as far as a practical human perception may
+discern, huge and hideous mistakes.
+
+“Von Holzen is down below,” said Roden, at length. “As soon as he comes
+up we will draft them off in batches of ten, and pack them into the
+omnibuses. The luggage can follow. Ah! Here comes Von Holzen. You don't
+know him, do you?”
+
+“No; I don't know him.”
+
+They both went forward to meet a man of medium height, with square
+shoulders, and a still, clean-shaven face. Otto von Holzen raised his
+hat, and remained bare-headed while he shook hands.
+
+“The introduction is unnecessary,” he said. “We have worked together
+for many months--you on the other side of the North Sea, and I on this.
+And now we have, at all events, something to show for our work.”
+
+He had a quick, foreign manner, with a kind smile, and certain
+vivacity.
+
+This was a different sort of man to Roden--quicker to feel for others,
+to understand others; capable of greater good, and possibly of greater
+evil. He glanced at Cornish, nodded sympathetically, and then turned to
+look at the malgamite makers. These, standing in a group on the
+platform, holding in their hands their poor belongings, returned the
+gaze with interest. The train which had brought them steamed out of the
+station, leaving the malgamite makers gazing in a dull wonder at the
+three men into whose hands they had committed their lives.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+ON THE DUNES.
+
+“L'indifference est le sommeil du coeur.”
+
+
+The village of Scheveningen, as many know, is built on the sand dunes,
+and only sheltered from the ocean by a sea-wall. A new Scheveningen has
+sprung up on this sea-wall--a mere terrace of red brick houses, already
+faded and weather-worn, which stare forlornly at the shallow sea.
+Inland, except where building enterprise has constructed roads and
+built villas are sand dunes. To the south, beyond the lighthouse, are
+sand dunes. To the north, more especially and most emphatically, are
+sand dunes as far as the eye may see. This tract of country is a very
+desert, where thin maritime grasses are shaken by the wind, where
+suggestive spars lie bleaching, where the sand, driven before the
+breeze like snow, travels to and fro through all the ages.
+
+This afternoon, the dunes presented as forlorn an appearance as it is
+possible in one's gloomiest moments to conceive. The fog had, indeed,
+lifted a little, but a fine rain now drove before the wind, freezing as
+it fell, so that the earth was covered by a thin sheet of ice. The
+short January day was drawing to its close.
+
+To the north of the waterworks, three hundred yards away from that
+solitary erection, the curious may find to-day a few low buildings
+clustering round a water-tower. These buildings are of wood, with roofs
+of corrugated iron; and when they were newly constructed, not so many
+years ago, presented a gay enough appearance, with their green
+shutters and ornamental eaves. The whole was enclosed in a fence of
+corrugated iron, and approached by a road not too well constructed on
+its sandy bed.
+
+“We do not want the place to become the object of an excursion for
+tourists to The Hague,” said Roden to Cornish, as they approached the
+malgamite works in a closed carriage.
+
+Cornish looked out of the window and made no remark. So far as he could
+see on all sides, there was nothing but sand-hills and grey grass. The
+road was a narrow one, and led only to the little cluster of houses
+within the fence. It was a lonely spot, cut off from all communication
+with the outer world. Men might pass within a hundred yards and never
+know that the malgamite works existed. The carriage drove through the
+high gateway into the enclosure. There were a number of cottages, two
+long, low buildings, and the water-tower.
+
+“You see,” said Roden, “we have plenty of room to increase our
+accommodation when there is need of it. But we must go slowly and feel
+our way. It would never do to fail. We have accommodation here for a
+couple of hundred workers and their families; but in time we shall have
+five hundred of them in here--all the malgamite workers in the world.”
+
+He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in
+his voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after
+all, be an enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's
+world sincere enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
+
+Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the
+little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
+
+“These two buildings are the factories,” he said. “In them three
+hundred men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the
+storage of the raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do
+not anticipate that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We
+shall turn over our money very quickly.”
+
+Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details
+receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for
+such pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the
+terms of which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his
+cane, gave a quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around
+him. He had a certain respect for Percy Roden, while that
+philanthropist did not perhaps appear quite at his best in his business
+moments.
+
+“And do you--and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen--live inside
+this--zareba?” he asked.
+
+
+“No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I
+have taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for
+me.”
+
+“Ah! I did not know you had a sister,” said Cornish, still looking
+about him with intelligent ignorance. “Does she take an interest in the
+malgamite scheme?”
+
+“Only so far as it affects me,” replied Roden. “She is a good sister to
+me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We
+will call in on our way back, if you care to.”
+
+“I should like nothing better,” replied Cornish, conventionally, and
+they continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements
+were as simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen
+certainly possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages
+a cold collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of
+wines, and notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
+
+“For the journalists,” explained Roden. “I have a number of them coming
+this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite
+makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited
+a number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay
+their expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it
+immensely. They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you
+understand.”
+
+“Flattery and champagne,” laughed Cornish--“the two principal
+ingredients of popularity.”
+
+“I have here a number of photographs,” continued Roden, “taken by a
+good man in the neighbourhood. He has thrown in a view of the sea at
+the back, you see. It is not there; but he has put in the sky and sea
+from another plate, he tells me, to make a good picture of it. We shall
+send them to the principal illustrated papers.”
+
+“And I suppose,” said Cornish, with his gay laugh, “that some of the
+journalists will throw in background also.”
+
+“Of course,” answered Roden, gravely. “And the sentimentalists will be
+satisfied. The sentimentalists never stop at providing necessaries;
+they want to pamper. It will please them immensely to think that the
+malgamite makers, who have been collected from the slums of the world,
+have a sea view and every modern luxury.”
+
+“We must humour them,” said Cornish, practically. “We should not get
+far without them.”
+
+At this moment the sound of wheels made them both turn towards the
+entrance. It was an omnibus--the best omnibus with the finest
+horses--which brought the journalists. These gentlemen now descended
+from the vehicle and came towards the cottage, where Cornish and Roden
+awaited them. They were what is euphemistically called a little mixed.
+Some were too well dressed, others too badly. But all carried
+themselves with an air that bespoke a consciousness of greatness not
+unmingled with good-fellowship. The leader, a stout man, shook hands
+affably with Cornish, who assumed his best and most gracious manner.
+
+
+“Aha! Here we are,” he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at
+the champagne.
+
+Then somehow Cornish came to the front and Roden retired into the
+background. It was Cornish who opened the champagne and poured it into
+their glasses. It was Cornish who made the best jokes, and laughed the
+loudest at the journalistic quips fired off by his companions. Cornish
+seemed to understand the guests better than did Roden, who was inclined
+to be stiff towards them. Those who are assured of their position are
+not always thinking about it. Men who stand much upon their dignity
+have not, as a rule, much else to stand upon.
+
+“Here's to you, sir,” cried the stout newspaper man, with upraised
+glass and a heart full of champagne. “Here's to you--whoever you are.
+And now to business. Perhaps you'll trot us round the works.”
+
+This Cornish did with much success. He then stood beside the
+correspondents while the malgamite workers descended from the omnibus
+and took possession of their new quarters. He provided the journalists
+with photographs and a short printed account of the malgamite trade,
+which had been prepared by Von Holzen. It was finally Cornish who
+packed them into the omnibus in high good humour, and sent them back to
+The Hague.
+
+“Do not forget the sentiment,” he called out after them. “Remember it
+is a charity.”
+
+The malgamite workers were left to the care of Von Holzen, who had made
+all necessary preparations for their reception.
+
+
+
+
+“You are a cleverer man than I thought you,” said Roden to Cornish, as
+they walked over the dunes together in the dusk towards the Rodens'
+house. And it was difficult to say whether Roden was pleased or not.
+He did not speak much during the walk, and was evidently wrapped in
+deep thought.
+
+Cornish was light and inconsequent as usual. “We shall soon raise
+more money,” he said. “We shall have malgamite balls, and malgamite
+bazaars, malgamite balloon ascents if that is not flying too high.”
+
+The Villa des Dunes stands, as its name implies, among the sand hills,
+facing south and west. It is upon an elevation, and therefore enjoys a
+view of the sea, and, inland, of the spires of The Hague. The garden is
+an old one, and there are quiet nooks in it where the trees have grown
+to a quite respectable stature. Holland is so essentially a tidy
+country that nothing old or moss-grown is tolerated. One wonders where
+all the rubbish of the centuries has been hidden; for all the ruins
+have been decently cleared away and cities that teem with historical
+interest seem, with a few exceptions, to have been built last year. The
+garden of the Villa des Dunes was therefore more remarkable for
+cleanliness than luxuriance. The house itself was uninteresting, and
+resembled a thousand others on the coast in that it was more
+comfortable than it looked. A suggestion of warmth and lamp-light
+filtered through the drawn curtains.
+
+Roden led the way into the house, admitting himself with a latch-key.
+“Dorothy,” he cried, as soon as the door was closed behind them--the
+two tall men in their heavy coats almost filled the little
+hall--“Dorothy, where are you?”
+
+The atmosphere of the house--that subtle odour which is characteristic
+of all dwellings--was pleasant. One felt that there were flowers in the
+rooms, and that tea was in course of preparation.
+
+The door on the left-hand side of the hall was opened, and a small
+woman appeared there. She was essentially small--a little upright
+figure with bright brown hair, a good complexion, and gay, sparkling
+eyes.
+
+“I have brought Mr. Cornish,” explained Roden. “We are frozen, and want
+some tea.”
+
+Dorothy Roden came forward and shook hands with Cornish. She looked up
+at him, taking him all in, in one quick intuitive glance, from his
+smooth head to his neat boots.
+
+“It is horribly cold,” she said. One cannot always be original and
+sparkling, and it is wiser not to try too persistently. She turned and
+re-entered the drawing-room, with Cornish following her. The room
+itself was prettily furnished in the Dutch fashion, and there were
+flowers. Dorothy Roden's manner was that of a woman; no longer in her
+first girlhood, who had seen en and cities. She was better educated
+than her brother; she was probably cleverer. She had, at all events,
+the subtle air of self-restraint that marks those women whose lives are
+passed in the society of a man mentally inferior to themselves. Of
+course all women are in a sense doomed to this--according to their own
+thinking.
+
+
+
+“Percy said that he would probably bring you in to tea,” said Miss
+Roden, “and that probably you would be tired out.”
+
+“Thanks; I am not tired. We had a good passage, and everything has run
+as smoothly. Do you take an active interest in us?”
+
+Miss Roden paused in the action of pouring out tea, and looked across
+at her interlocutor.
+
+“Not an active one,” she answered, with a momentary gravity; and, after
+a minute, glanced at Cornish's face again.
+
+“It is going to be a big thing,” he said enthusiastically. “My cousin
+Joan Ferriby is working hard at it in London. You do not know her, I
+suppose?”
+
+“I was at school with Joan,” replied Miss Roden, with her soft laugh.
+
+“And we took a school-girl oath to write to each other every week when
+we parted. We kept it up--for a fortnight.”
+
+Cornish's smooth face betrayed no surprise; although he had concluded
+that Miss Roden was years older than Joan.
+
+“Perhaps,” he said, with ready tact, “you do not take an interest in
+the same things as Joan. In what may be called new things--not clothes,
+I mean. In factory girls' feather clubs, for instance, or haberdashers'
+assistants, or women's rights, or anything like that.”
+
+“No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly
+ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or
+ought to want.”
+
+Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went
+and sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked
+worn--as if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon
+him. Cornish, too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking
+down at Miss Roden with a doubtful air.
+
+“I always distrust women who say that,” he said. “One naturally
+suspects them of having got what they want by some underhand
+means--and of having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of
+amalgamation; is not that so, Roden?”
+
+He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made
+some necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It
+seemed that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the
+conversation by himself.
+
+“Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?” he asked Dorothy.
+
+“Nothing,” she replied. “I have not even the wit to know that I have
+any.”
+
+“Good heavens!” he exclaimed. “No wonder Joan ceased writing to you.
+You are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted
+your wrongs--_sub rosa_--and leave other women to manage their own
+affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the
+Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot
+help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must
+either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with
+one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery.
+But some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the
+masses. The masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a
+woman. Some day the men must combine against the women, who are already
+united behind a vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?”
+
+“I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance,” said Miss
+Roden, taking his cup.
+
+“I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to----”
+ He paused and drank the tea slowly. “No one knows that,” he added.
+
+“Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for
+ourselves again.”
+
+“That is possible,” he said gravely, setting down his cup. “And now I
+must find my way back to The Hague. Good night.”
+
+“He is clever,” said Dorothy, when Roden returned after having shown
+Cornish the way.
+
+“Yes,” answered Roden, without enthusiasm.
+
+“You do not seem to be pleased at the thought,” she said carelessly.
+
+“Oh--it will be all right! If his cleverness runs in the right
+direction.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+OFFICIAL.
+
+“One may be so much a man of the world as to be nothing in the world.”
+
+
+Political Economy will some day have to recognize Philanthropy as a
+possible--nay, a certain stumbling-block in the world's progress
+towards that millennium when Supply and Demand shall sit down together
+in peace. Charity is certainly sowing seed into the ridges of time
+which will bear startling fruit in the future. For Charity does not
+hesitate to close up an industry or interfere with a trade that
+supplies thousands with their daily bread. Thus the Malgamite scheme so
+glibly inaugurated by Lord Ferriby in his drawing-room bore fruit
+within a week in a quarter to which probably few concerned had ever
+thought of casting an eye. The price of a high-class tinted paper fell
+in all the markets of the world. This paper could only be manufactured
+with a large addition of malgamite to its other components. In what may
+be called the prospectus of the Malgamite scheme it was stated that
+this great charity was inaugurated for the purpose of relieving the
+distress of the malgamiters--one of the industrial scandals of the
+day--by enabling these afflicted men to make their deadly product at a
+cheaper rate and without danger to themselves. This prospectus
+naturally came to the hands of those most concerned, namely, the
+manufacturers of coloured papers and the brokers who supply those
+manufacturers with their raw material.
+
+Thus Lord Ferriby, beaming benignantly from a bower of chrysanthemums
+on a certain evening one winter not so many years ago, set rolling a
+small stone upon a steep hill. So, in fact, wags the world; and none of
+us may know when the echo of a careless word will cease vibrating in
+the hearts of some that hear.
+
+The malgamite trade was what is called a _close_ one--that is to say
+that this product passed out into the world through the hands of a few
+brokers and these brokers were powerless, in face of Lord Ferriby's
+announcement, to prevent the price of malgamite from falling. As this
+fell so fell the prices of the many kinds of paper which could not be
+manufactured without it. Thus indirectly, Lord Ferriby, with that
+obtuseness which very often finds itself in company with a highly
+developed philanthropy, touched the daily lives of thousands and
+thousands of people. And he did not know it. And Tony Cornish knew it
+not. And Joan and the subscribers never dreamt or thought of such a
+thing.
+
+The paper market became what is called sensitive--that is to say,
+prices rose and fell suddenly without apparent reason. Some men made
+money and others lost it. Presently, however--that is to say, in the
+month of March--two months after Tony Cornish had safely conveyed his
+malgamite makers to their new home on the sand dunes of
+Scheveningen--the paper markets of the world began to settle down
+again, and steadier prices ruled. This could be traced--as all
+commercial changes may be traced--to the original flow at one of the
+fountain-heads of supply and demand. It arose from the simple fact that
+a broker in London had bought some of the new malgamite--the
+Scheveningen malgamite--and had issued it to his clients, who said that
+it was good. He had, moreover, bought it cheaper. In a couple of days
+all the world--all the world concerned in the matter--knew of it. Such
+is commerce at the end of the century.
+
+And Cornish, casually looking in at the little office of the Malgamite
+Charity, where a German clerk recommended by Herr von Holzen kept the
+books of the scheme, found his table littered with telegrams. Tony
+Cornish had a reputation for being clever. He was, as a matter of fact,
+intelligent. The world nearly always mistakes intelligence for
+cleverness, just as it nearly always mistakes laughter for happiness.
+He was, however, clever enough to have found out during the last two
+months that the Malgamite scheme was a bigger thing than either he or
+his uncle had ever imagined.
+
+Many questions had arisen during those two months of Cornish's honorary
+secretary ship of the charity which he had been unable to answer, and
+which he had been obliged to refer to Roden and Von Holzen. These had
+replied readily, and the matter as solved by them seemed simple enough.
+But each question seemed to have side issues--indeed, the whole scheme
+appeared suddenly to bristle with side issues, and Tony Cornish began
+to find himself getting really interested in something at last.
+
+The telegrams were not alone upon his office table. There were letters
+as well. It was a nice little office, furnished by Joan with a certain
+originality which certainly made it different from any other office in
+Westminster. It had, moreover, the great recommendation of being above
+a Ladies' Tea Association, so that afternoon tea could be easily
+procured. The German clerk quite counted on receiving three
+half-holidays a week and Joan brought her friends to tea, and her
+mother to chaperon. These little tea-parties became quite notorious,
+and there was a question of a cottage piano, which was finally
+abandoned in favour of a banjo. It happened to be a wire-puzzle winter,
+and Cornish had the best collection of rings on impossible wire mazes,
+and glass beads strung upon intertwisted hooks, in Westminster, if not,
+indeed, in the whole of London. Then, of course, there were the
+committee meetings--that is to say, the meeting of the lady committees
+of the bazaar and ball sub-committees. The wire puzzles and the
+association tea were an immense feature of these.
+
+Cornish was quite accustomed to finding a number of letters awaiting
+him, and had been compelled to buy a waste-paper basket of abnormal
+dimensions--so many moribund charities cast envious eyes upon the
+Malgamite scheme, and wondered how it was done, and, on the chance of
+it, offered Cornish honourable honorary posts. But the telegrams had
+been few, and nearly all from Roden. There was a letter from Roden this
+morning.
+
+“DEAR CORNISH” (he wrote),--
+
+“You will probably receive applications from malgamite workers in
+different parts of the world for permission to enter our works. Accept
+them all, and arrange for their enlistment as soon as possible.
+
+“Yours in haste,
+
+“P.R.”
+
+Percy Roden was usually in haste, and wrote a bad letter in a beautiful
+handwriting.
+
+Cornish turned to the telegrams. They were one and all applications
+from malgamite makers--from Venice to Valparaiso--to be enrolled in the
+Scheveningen group. He was still reading them when Lord Ferriby came
+into the little office. His lordship was wearing a new fancy waistcoat.
+It was the month of April--the month assuredly of fancy waistcoats
+throughout all nature. Lord Ferriby was, as usual, rather pleased with
+himself. He had walked down Piccadilly with great effect, and a bishop
+had bowed to him, recognizing, in a sense, a lay bishop.
+
+“What have you got there, Tony?” he asked, affably, laying his smart
+walking-stick on an inlaid bureau, which was supposed to be his, and
+was always closed, and had nothing in it.
+
+“Telegrams,” answered Cornish, “from malgamite makers, who want to join
+the works at Scheveningen. Seventy-six of them. I don't quite
+understand this business.”
+
+“Neither do I,” admitted Lord Ferriby, in a voice which clearly
+indicated that if he only took the trouble he could understand
+anything. “But I fancy it is one of the biggest things in charity that
+has ever been started.”
+
+In the company of men, and especially of young men, Lord Ferriby
+allowed himself a little license in speech. He at times almost verged
+on the slangy, which is, of course, quite correct and _de haut ton_,
+and he did not want to be taken for an old buffer, as were his
+contemporaries. Therefore he called himself an old buffer whenever he
+could. _Qui s'excuse s'accuse._
+
+“Of course,” he added, “we must take the poor fellows.”
+
+Without comment, Cornish handed him Roden's letter, and while Lord
+Ferriby read it, employed himself in making out a list of the names and
+addresses of the applicants. Cornish was, in fact, rising to the
+occasion. In other circumstances Anthony Cornish might with favourable
+influence--say that of a Scottish head clerk--have been made into what
+is called a good business man. Without any training whatever, and with
+an education which consisted only of a smattering of the classics and a
+rigid code of honour, he usually perceived what it was wise to do. Some
+people call this genius; others, luck.
+
+“I see,” said Lord Ferriby, “that Roden is of the same opinion as
+myself. A shrewd fellow, Roden.” And he pulled down his fancy
+waistcoat.
+
+“Then I may write, or telegraph, to these men, and tell them to come?”
+ asked Cornish.
+
+“Most certainly, my dear Anthony. We will collect them, or muster them,
+as White calls it, in London, and then send them to Scheveningen, as
+before, when Roden and Herr von Holzen are ready for them. Send a note
+to White, whose department this mustering is. As a soldier he
+understands the handling of a body of men. You and I are more competent
+to deal with a sum of money.”
+
+Lord Ferriby glanced towards the door to make sure that it was open, so
+that the German clerk in the outer office should lose nothing that
+could only be for his good--might, in fact, pick up a few crumbs from
+the richly stored table of a great man's mind.
+
+Lord Ferriby leisurely withdrew his gloves and laid them on the inlaid
+bureau. He had the physique of a director of public companies, and the
+grave manner that impresses shareholders. He talked of the weather,
+drew Cornish's attention to a blot of ink on the high-art wallpaper,
+and then put on his gloves again, well pleased with himself and his
+morning's work.
+
+“Everything appears to be in order, my dear Anthony,” he said.
+“So there is nothing to keep me here any longer.”
+
+“Nothing,” replied Cornish; and his lordship departed.
+
+Cornish remained until it was time to go across St. James's Park to his
+club to lunch. He answered a certain number of letters himself, the
+others he handed over to the German clerk--a man with all the virtues,
+smooth, upright hair, and a dreamy eye. The malgamite makers were
+bidden to come as soon as they liked. After luncheon Cornish had to
+hurry back to Great George Street. This was one of his busy days. At
+four o'clock there was to be a meeting of the floor committee of the
+approaching ball, and Cornish remembered that he had been specially
+told to get a new bass string for the banjo. The Hon. Rupert Dalkyn
+had promised to come, but had vowed that he would not touch the banjo
+again unless it had new strings. So Cornish bought the bass string at
+the Army and Navy Stores, and the first preparation for the meeting of
+the floor committee was the tuning of the banjo by the German clerk.
+
+There were, of course, flowers to be bought and arranged _tant bien que
+mal_ in empty ink-stands, a conceit of Joan's, who refused to spend the
+fund money in any ornament less serious, while she quite recognized the
+necessity for flowers on the table of a mixed committee.
+
+The Hon. Rupert was the first to arrive. He was very small and neat and
+rather effeminate. The experienced could tell at a glance that he came
+from a fighting stock. He wore a grave and rather preoccupied air. He
+sat down on the arm of a chair and looked sadly into the fire, while
+his lips moved.
+
+“Got something on your mind?” asked Cornish, who was putting the
+finishing touches to the arrangement of the room.
+
+“Yes, a new song composed for the occasion 'The Maudlin Malgamite';
+like to hear it?”
+
+“Well, I would rather wait. I think I hear a carriage at the door,”
+ said Cornish, hastily.
+
+Rupert Dalkyn had to be elected to the floor committee because he was
+Mrs. Courteville's brother, and Mrs. Courteville was the best chaperon
+in London. She was not only a widow, but her husband had been killed in
+rather painful circumstances.
+
+“Poor dear,” the people said when she had done something perhaps a
+little unusual--“poor dear; you know her husband was killed.”
+
+So the late Courteville, in his lone grave by the banks of the Ogowe
+River, watched over his wife's welfare, and made quite a nice place for
+her in London society.
+
+Rupert himself had been intended for the Church, but had at Cambridge
+developed such an exquisite sense of humour and so killing a power of
+mimicry that no one of the dons was safe, and his friends told him that
+he really mustn't. So he didn't. Since then Rupert had, to tell the
+truth, done nothing. The exquisite sense of humour had also slightly
+evaporated. People said, “Oh yes, very funny,” than which nothing is
+ more fatal to humour; and elderly ladies smiled a pinched smile at one
+side of their lips. It is so difficult to see a joke through those
+long-handled eye-glasses.
+
+
+Cornish was quite right when he said that he had heard a carriage, for
+presently the door opened, and Mrs. Courteville came in. She was small
+and slight--“a girlish figure,” her maid told her--and well dressed.
+She was just at that age when she did not look it--at an age, moreover,
+when some women seem to combine a maximum of experience with a minimum
+of thought. But who are we to pick holes in our neighbours' garments?
+If any of us is quite sure that he is not doing more harm than good in
+the world, let him by all means throw stones at Mrs. Courteville.
+
+Joan arrived next, accompanied by Lady Ferriby, who knew that if she
+stayed at home she would only have to give tea to a number of people
+towards whom she did not feel kindly enough disposed to reconcile
+herself to the expense. Joan glanced hastily from Mrs. Courteville to
+Tony. She had noticed that Mrs. Courteville always arrived early at the
+floor committee meetings when these were held at the Malgamite office
+or in Cornish's rooms. Joan wondered, while Mrs. Courteville was
+kissing her, whether the widow had come with her brother or before him.
+
+“Has he not made the room look pretty with that mimosa?” asked Mrs.
+Courteville, vivaciously. People did not know how matters stood
+between Joan Ferriby and Tony Cornish, and always wanted to know.
+That is why Mrs. Courteville said “he” only when she drew Joan's
+attention to the flowers.
+
+The meeting may best be described as lively. We belong, however, to an
+eminently practical generation, and some business was really
+transacted. The night for the Malgamite ball was fixed, and a list of
+stewards drawn up; and then the Hon. Rupert played the banjo.
+
+Lady Ferriby had some calls to pay, so Cornish volunteered to walk
+across the park with Joan, who had a healthy love of exercise. They
+talked of various matters, and of course returned again and again to
+the Malgamite affairs.
+
+“By the way,” said Joan, at the corner of Cambridge Terrace, “I had a
+letter this morning from Dorothy Roden. I was at school with her, you
+know, and never dreamt that Mr. Roden was her brother. In fact, I had
+nearly forgotten her existence. She is coming across for the ball. She
+says she saw you when you were at The Hague. You never mentioned her,
+Tony.”
+
+“Didn't I? She is not interested in the Malgamite scheme, you know. And
+nobody who is not interested in that is worth mentioning.”
+
+They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then Cornish asked a
+question.
+
+“What sort of person was she at school?”
+
+“Oh, she was a frivolous sort of girl--never took anything seriously,
+you know. That is why she is not interested in the Malgamite, I
+suppose.”
+
+“I suppose so,” said Tony Cornish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SEAMY SIDE.
+
+“For this is death, and the sole death,
+When a man's loss comes to him from his gain.”
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart told Roden that her house was in Park Street in The
+Hague. But she did not mention that it was at the corner of Orange
+Street, which makes all the difference. For Park Street is long, and
+the further end of it--the extremity furthest removed from the Royal
+Palace--is less desirable than the neighbourhood of the Vyverberg. Mrs.
+Vansittart's house was in the most desirable part of a most desirable
+little city. She was surrounded with houses inhabited by people bearing
+names well known in history. These people are, moreover, of a
+fascinating cosmopolitanism. They come from all parts of the world, in
+an ancestral sense. There are, for instance, Dutch people living here
+whose names are Scottish. There are others of French extraction, others
+again whose forefathers came to Holland with the Don Juan of the
+religious wars whose history reads like a romance.
+
+Outwardly Mrs. Vansittart's house was of dark red brick, with stone
+facings, and probably belonged to that period which in England is
+called Tudor. Inwardly the house was as comfortable as thick carpets
+and rich curtains and beautiful carvings could make it. The Dutch are
+pre-eminently the flower-growers of the world, and the observant
+traveller walking along Orange Street may note even in midwinter that
+the flowers in the windows are changed each day. In this, as in other
+_menus plaisirs_, Mrs. Vansittart had assumed the ways of the country
+of her adoption. For Holland suggests to the inquiring mind an elderly
+gentleman, now getting a little stout, who, after a wild youth, is
+beginning to appreciate the blessings of repose and comfort; who,
+having laid by a small sufficiency, sits peaceably by the fire, and
+reflects upon the days that are no more.
+
+It was Mrs. Vansittart's pleasant habit to surround herself with every
+comfort. She was an eminently self-respecting person--of that
+self-respect which denies itself nothing except excess. She liked to be
+well dressed, well housed, and well served. She possessed money, and
+with it she bought these adjuncts, which in a minor degree are within
+the reach of nearly everybody, though few have the wit to value them.
+She was not, however, a vociferously contented woman. Like many
+another, she probably wanted something that money could not buy.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, in fulfilment of her promise to Percy Roden, called on
+Dorothy at the Villa des Dunes, who in due course came to the house at
+the corner of Park Street and Orange Street to return the visit.
+Dorothy had been out when Mrs. Vansittart called, but she thought she
+knew from her brother's description what sort of woman to expect. For
+Dorothy Roden had been educated abroad, and was not without knowledge
+of a certain class of English lady to be met with on the Continent, who
+is always well connected, invariably idle, and usually refers
+gracefully to a great sorrow in the past.
+
+But Dorothy knew, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vansittart that she had
+formed an entirely erroneous conception. This was not the sort of woman
+to seek the admiration of the first-comer, and Percy Roden had allowed
+his sister to surmise that, whether it had been sought or not, Mrs.
+Vansittart had certainly been accorded his highest admiration.
+
+“It is good of you to return my call so soon,” she said, in a friendly
+voice. “You have walked, I suppose, all the way from the Villa des
+Dunes. English girls are such great walkers now--a most excellent
+thing. I belong to the semi-generation older than yours, which
+preferred a carriage. I am an atrocious walker. You are not at all like
+your brother.” And she threw back her head and looked speculatively at
+her visitor. “Sit down,” she said, with a laugh. “You probably came
+here harbouring a prejudice against me. One should never get to know a
+woman through her men-folk. That is a rule almost without exception;
+you may take it from one who is many years older than you. But--well,
+_nous verrons_. Perhaps we are the exception.”
+
+“I hope so,” answered Dorothy, who was ready enough of speech. “At all
+events, all that Percy told me made me anxious to meet you. It is
+rather lonely, you know, at the Villa des Dunes. You see, Percy is
+engaged all day with his malgamiters. And, of course, we know no one
+here yet.”
+
+“There is Herr von Holzen,” suggested Mrs. Vansittart, ringing the bell
+for tea.
+
+“Oh yes. The man who is associated with Percy at the works? I do not
+know him. Percy has not brought him to the villa.”
+
+“Ah! Is that so? That is nice of your brother. Sometimes men, you know,
+make use of their wives or their sisters to help them in their business
+relationships. I have known a man use his pretty daughter to gain a
+client. Beauty levels all, you see. Not nice, no; I suppose Herr von
+Holzen, is--well--let us call him a foreign savant. Such a nice broad
+term, you know; covers such a plentiful lack of soap.” And she laughed
+easily, with eyes that were quite grave and alert.
+
+“My brother does not say much about him,” answered Dorothy Roden.
+“Percy never does tell me much of his affairs, and I am not sorry. I am
+sure I should not understand them. Stocks and shares and freights and
+things. I never quite know whether a freight is part of a ship; do
+you?”
+
+“No. There are so many things more useful to know, are there
+not?--things about people and human nature, for instance.”
+
+“Yes,” said Dorothy, looking at her companion thoughtfully--“yes.”
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart returned that thoughtful glance. “And the other
+man,” she said suddenly, “Mr.--Cornish--do you know him?”
+
+“He called at the Villa des Dunes. My brother brought him in to tea the
+evening of arrival of the first batch of malgamiters,” replied Dorothy.
+
+“Mr. Cornish interests me,” said Mrs. Vansittart. “I knew him when he
+was a boy--or little more than a boy. He came to Weimar with a tutor to
+learn German when I happened to be living there. I have heard of him
+from time to time since. One sees his name in the society papers, you
+know. He is one of those persons of whom something is expected by his
+friends--not by himself. The young man who expects something of himself
+is usually disappointed. Have you ever noticed in the biographies of
+great men, Miss Roden that people nearly always began to expect
+something of them when they were quite young? As if they were cast in a
+different mould from the very first. Really great men, I mean not the
+fashionable pianist or novelist of the hour whose portrait is in every
+illustrated journal for perhaps two months, and then he is forgotten.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart spoke quickly in a foreign manner, asking with a
+certain vivacity questions which required no answer. Dorothy Roden was
+not slow of speech, but she touched topics with less airiness. Her mind
+seemed a trifle insular in its tendencies. One topic attracted her, and
+the rest were set aside.
+
+“Why does Mr. Cornish interest you?” she asked.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shrugged her shoulders and leant back in her deep
+chair.
+
+“He strikes me as a person with infinite capacity for holding his
+cards. That is all. But perhaps he has no good cards in his hand?
+Nothing but rubbish--the twos and threes of ordinary drawing-room
+smartness--and never a trump. Who can tell? _Qui vivra verra_,
+Miss. Roden. It may not be in my time that the world shall hear of Tony
+Cornish--the real world, not the journalistic world, I mean. He may
+ripen slowly, and I shall be dead. I am getting elderly. How old do you
+think I am, Miss Roden?”
+
+“Thirty-five,” replied Dorothy; and Mrs. Vansittart turned sharply to
+look at her.
+
+“Ah!” she said, slowly and thoughtfully. “Yes, you are quite right.
+That is my age. And I suppose I look it. I suppose others would have
+guessed with equal facility, but not everybody would have had the
+honesty to say what they thought.”
+
+Dorothy laughed and changed colour. “I said it without thinking,” she
+answered. “I hope you do not mind.”
+
+“No, I do not mind,” said Mrs. Vansittart, looking out of the window.
+“But we were talking of Mr. Cornish.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Dorothy, buttoning her glove and glancing at the clock.
+“Yes; but I must not talk any longer or I shall be late, and my brother
+expects to find me at home when he returns from the works.”
+
+She rose and shook hands, looking Mrs. Vansittart in the eyes. When
+Dorothy had gone, the lady of the house stood for a minute looking at
+the closed door.
+
+“I wonder what she thinks of me?” she said.
+
+And Dorothy Roden, walking down Park Straat, was doing the same. She
+was wondering what she thought of Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+Although it was the month of April, the winter mists still rose at
+evening and swept seawards from the marshes of Leyden. The trees had
+scarcely begun to break into bud, for it had been a cold spring, and
+the ice was floating lazily on the canal as Dorothy walked along its
+bank. The Villa des Dunes was certainly somewhat lonely, standing as it
+did a couple of hundred yards back from a sandy road--one of the many
+leading from The Hague to Scheveningen. Between the villa and the road
+the dunes had scarcely been molested, except indeed, to cut a narrow
+roadway to the house. When Dorothy reached home, she found that her
+brother had not yet returned. She looked at the clock. He was later
+than usual. The malgamite works had during the last few weeks been
+absorbing more and more of his attention. When he returned home, tired,
+in the evening, he was not communicative. As for Otto von Holzen, he
+never showed his face outside the works now, but seemed to live the
+life of a recluse within the iron fence that surrounded the little
+colony.
+
+Percy Roden had not returned to the Villa des Dunes at the usual hour
+because he had other work to do. Von Holzen and he were now standing in
+one of the little huts in silence. The light of the setting sun glowed
+through the window upon their faces, upon the bare walls of the room,
+rendered barer and in no way beautified by a terrible German print
+purporting to represent the features of Prince Bismarck.
+
+Von Holzen stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, and looked
+out of the window across the dreary dunes. Roden stood beside him,
+slouching and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets.
+His lower lip was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn
+and anxious.
+
+On the bed, between the two men, lay a third--an old-looking youth with
+lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and it
+was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere. The man
+was dying. He was a Pole who understood no word of English. Indeed,
+these three men had no language in common in which to make themselves
+understood.
+
+“Can you do nothing at all?” asked Roden, for the second or third time.
+
+“Nothing,” answered Von Holzen, without turning round. “He was a doomed
+man when he came here.”
+
+The man lay on the bed and stared at Von Holzen's back. Perhaps that
+was the reason why Von Holzen so persistently looked out of the window.
+The work-hours were over, and from some neighbouring cottage the sounds
+of a concertina came on the quiet air. The musician had chosen a
+popular music-hall song, which he played over and over again with a
+maddening pertinacity. Roden bit his lip, and frowned at each
+repetition of the opening bars. Von Holzen, with a still, pale face and
+stern eyes, seemed to hear nothing. He had no nerves. At times he
+twisted his lips, moistening them with his tongue, and suppressed an
+impatient sigh. The man was a long time in dying. They had been waiting
+there two hours. This little incident had to be passed over as quietly
+as possible on account of the feelings of the concertina player and the
+others.
+
+The door stood ajar, and in the adjoining room a professional nurse, in
+cap and apron, sat reading a German newspaper. This also was a bedroom.
+The cottage was, in point of fact, the hospital of the malgamite
+workers. The nurse, whose services had not hitherto been wanted, had
+since the inauguration of the works spent some pleasant weeks at a
+pension at Scheveningen. She read her newspaper very philosophically,
+and waited.
+
+Roden it was who watched the patient. The dying man never heeded him,
+but looked persistently towards Von Holzen. The expression of his eyes
+indicated that if they had had a language in common he would have
+spoken to him. Roden saw the direction of the man's glance, and perhaps
+read its meaning. For Percy Roden was handicapped with that greatest of
+all drags on a successful career--a soft heart. He could speak harshly
+enough of the malgamiters as a class, but he was drawn towards this
+dumb individual, with a strong desire to effect the impossible. Von
+Holzen had not promised that there should be no deaths. He had merely
+undertaken to reduce the dangers of the malgamite industry gradually
+and steadily until they ceased to exist. He had, moreover, the strength
+of mind to give to this incident its proper weight in the balance of
+succeeding events. He was not, in a word, handicapped as was his
+colleague.
+
+
+The sun set beyond the quiet sea and over the sand dunes the shades of
+evening crept towards the west. The outline of Prince Bismarck's iron
+face faded slowly in the gathering darkness, until it was nothing but a
+shadow in a frame on the bare wall. The concertina player had laid
+aside his instrument. A sudden silence fell upon land and sea.
+
+Von Holzen turned sharply on his heel and leant over the bed.
+
+“Come along,” he said to Roden, with averted eyes. “It is all over.
+There is nothing more for us to do here.”
+
+With a backward glance towards the bed, Roden followed his companion,
+out of the room into the adjoining apartment where the nurse was
+sitting, and where their coats and hats lay on the bed. Von Holzen
+spoke to the woman in German.
+
+“So!” she answered, with a mild interest, and folded her paper.
+
+The two men went out into the keen air together, and did not look
+towards each other or speak. Perhaps they knew that if there is any
+difficulty in speaking of a subject it is better to keep silence. They
+crossed the sandy space between this cottage and the others grouped
+round the factory like tents around their headquarters. One of these
+huts was Von Holzen's--a three-roomed building where he worked and
+slept. Its windows looked out upon the factory, and commanded the only
+entrance to the railed enclosure within which the whole colony was
+confined. It was Von Holzen's habit to shut himself within his cottage
+for days together, living there in solitude like some crustacean within
+its shell. At the door he turned, with his fingers on the handle.
+
+“You must not worry yourself about this,” he said to Roden, with
+averted eyes. “It cannot be helped, you know.”
+
+“No; I know that.”
+
+
+“And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden.”
+
+“Of course. Good night, Von Holzen.”
+
+And Percy Roden passed through the gateway, walking slowly across the
+dunes towards his own house; while Von Holzen watched him from the
+window of the little three-roomed cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A SHADOW FROM THE PAST.
+
+“Le plus sur moyen d'arriver à son but c'est de ne pas faire de
+rencontres en chemin.”
+
+
+“Yes, it was long ago--'lang, lang izt's her'--you remember the song
+Frau Neumayer always sang. So long ago, Mr. Cornish, that----Well, it
+must be Mr. Cornish, and not Tony.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart leant back in her comfortable chair and looked at her
+visitor with observant eyes. Those who see the most are they who never
+appear to be observing. It is fatal to have others say that one is so
+sharp, and people said as much of Mrs. Vansittart, who had quick dark
+eyes and an alert manner.
+
+“Yes,” answered Cornish, “it is long ago, but not so long as all that.”
+
+His smooth fair face was slightly troubled by the knowledge that the
+recollections to which she referred were those of the Weimar days when
+she who was now a widow had been a young married woman. Tony Cornish
+had also been young in those days, and impressionable. It was before
+the world had polished his surface bright and hard. And the impression
+left of the Mrs. Vansittart of Weimar was that she was one of the rare
+women who marry _pour le bon motif_. He had met her by accident in the
+streets of The Hague a few hours ago, and having learnt her address,
+had, in duty bound, called at the house at the corner of Park Straat
+and Oranje Straat at the earliest calling hour.
+
+“I am not ignorant of your history since you were at Weimar,” said the
+lady, looking at him with an air of almost maternal scrutiny.
+
+“I have no history,” he replied. “I never had a past even, a few years
+ago, when every man who took himself seriously had at least one.”
+
+He spoke as he had learnt to speak, with the surface of his
+mind--with the object of passing the time and avoiding topics that
+might possibly be painful. Many who appear to be egotistical must
+assuredly be credited with this good motive. One is, at all events,
+safe in talking of one's self. Sufficient for the social day is the
+effort to avoid glancing at the cupboard where our neighbour keeps his
+skeleton.
+
+A silence followed Cornish's heroic speech, and it was perhaps better
+to face it than stave it off.
+
+“Yes,” said Mrs. Vansittart, at the end of that pause, “I am a widow
+and childless. I see the questions in your face.”
+
+Cornish gave a little nod of the head, and looked out of the window.
+Mrs. Vansittart was only a year older than himself, but the difference
+in their life and experience, when they had learnt to know each other
+at Weimar, had in some subtle way augmented the seniority.
+
+“Then you never--” he said, and paused.
+
+“No,” she answered lightly. “So I am what the world calls independent,
+you see. No encumbrance of any sort.”
+
+Again he nodded without speaking.
+
+“The line between an encumbrance and a purpose is not very clearly
+defined, is it?” she said lightly; and then added a question, “What are
+you doing in The Hague--Malgamite?”
+
+“Yes,” he answered, in surprise, “Malgamite.”
+
+“Oh, I know all about it,” laughed Mrs. Vansittart. “I see Dorothy
+Roden at least once a week.”
+
+“But she takes no part in it.”
+
+“No; she takes no part in it, _mon ami_, except in so far as it affects
+her brother and compels her to live in a sad little villa on the
+Dunes.”
+
+“And you--you are interested?”
+
+“Most assuredly. I have even given my mite. I am interested in”--she
+paused and shrugged her shoulders--“in you, since you ask me, in
+Dorothy, and in Mr. Roden. He gave the flowers at which you are so
+earnestly looking, by the way.”
+
+“Ah!” said Cornish, politely.
+
+“Yes,” answered Mrs. Vansittart, with a passing smile. “He is kind
+enough to give me flowers from time to time. You never gave me flowers,
+Mr. Cornish, in the olden times.”
+
+“Because I could not afford good ones.”
+
+“And you would not offer anything more reasonable?”
+
+“Not to you,” he answered.
+
+“But of course that was long ago.”
+
+“Yes. I am glad to hear that you know Miss Roden. It will make the
+little villa on the Dunes less sad. The atmosphere of malgamite is not
+cheerful. One sees it at its best in a London drawing-room. It is one
+of the many realities which have an evil odour when approached too
+closely.”
+
+“And you are coming nearer to it?”
+
+“It is coming nearer to me.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mrs. Vansittart, examining the rings with which her fingers
+were laden. “I thought there would be developments.”
+
+“There are developments. Hence my presence in The Hague. Lord Ferriby
+_et famille_ arrive to-morrow. Also my friend Major White.”
+
+“The fighting man?” inquired Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+“Yes, the fighting man. We are to have a solemn meeting. It has been
+found necessary to alter our financial basis----”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart held up a warning hand. “Do not talk to me of your
+financial basis. I know nothing of money. It is not from that point of
+view that I contemplate your Malgamite scheme.”
+
+“Ah! Then, if one may inquire, from what point of view....?”
+
+“From the human point of view; as does every other woman connected with
+it. We are advancing, I admit, but I think we shall always be willing
+to leave the--financial basis--to your down-trodden sex.”
+
+“It is very kind of you to be interested in these poor people,” began
+Cornish; but Mrs. Vansittart interrupted him vivaciously.
+
+“Poor people? Gott bewahre!” she cried. “Did you think I meant the
+workers? Oh no! I am not interested in them. I am interested in your
+Rodens and your Ferribys and your Whites, and even in your Tony
+Cornish. I wonder who will quarrel and who will--well, do the contrary,
+and what will come of it all? In my day young people were brought
+together by a common pleasure, but that has gone out of fashion. And
+now it is a common endeavour to achieve the impossible, to check the
+stars in their courses by the holding of mixed meetings, and the
+enunciation of second-hand platitudes respecting the poor and the
+masses--this is what brings the present generation into that
+intercourse which ends in love and marriage and death--the old
+programme. And it is from that point of view alone, _mon ami_, that I
+take a particle of interest in your Malgamite scheme.”
+
+All of which Tony Cornish remembered later; for it was untrue. He rose
+to take his leave with polite hopes of seeing her again.
+
+“Oh, do not hurry away,” she said. “I am expecting Dorothy Roden, who
+promised to come to tea. She will be disappointed not to see you.”
+
+Cornish laughed in his light way. “You are kind in your assumptions,”
+ he answered. “Miss Roden is barely aware of my existence, and would not
+know me from Adam.”
+
+Nevertheless he stayed, moving about the room for some minutes looking
+at the flowers and the pictures, of which he knew just as much as was
+desirable and fashionable. He knew what flowers were “in,” such as
+fuchsias and tulips, and what were “out,” such as camellias and double
+hyacinths. About the pictures he knew a little, and asked questions as
+to some upon the walls that belonged to the Dutch school. He was of the
+universe, universal. Then he sat down again unobtrusively, and Mrs.
+Vansittart did not seem to notice that he had done so, though she
+glanced at the clock.
+
+A few minutes later Dorothy came in. She changed colour when Mrs.
+Vansittart half introduced Cornish with the conventional, “I think you
+know each other.”
+
+“I knew you were coming to The Hague,” she said, shaking hands with
+Cornish. “I had a letter from Joan the other day. They all are coming,
+are they not? I am afraid Joan will be very much disappointed in me.
+She thinks I am wrapped up heart and soul in the malgamiters--and I am
+not, you know.”
+
+She turned with a little laugh, and appealed to Mrs. Vansittart, who
+was watching her closely, as if Dorothy were displaying some quality or
+point hitherto unknown to the older woman. The girl's eyes were
+certainly brighter than usual.
+
+“Joan takes some things very seriously,” answered Cornish.
+
+“We all do that,” said Mrs. Vansittart, without looking up from the
+tea-table at which she was engaged. “Yes; it is a mistake, of course.”
+
+“Possibly,” assented Mrs. Vansittart. “Do you take sugar, Miss Roden?”
+
+“Yes, please--seriously. Two pieces.”
+
+“Are you like Joan?” asked Cornish, as he gave her the cup. “Do you
+take anything else seriously?”
+
+“Oh no,” answered Dorothy Roden, with a laugh.
+
+“And your brother?” inquired Mrs. Vansittart. “Is he coming this
+afternoon?”
+
+“He will follow me. He is busy with the new malgamiters who arrived
+this morning. I suppose you brought them, Mr. Cornish?”
+
+“Yes, I brought them. Twenty-four of them--the dregs, so to speak. The
+very last of the malgamiters, collected from all parts of the world. I
+was not proud of them.”
+
+He sat down and quickly changed the conversation, showing quite clearly
+that this subject interested him as little as it interested his
+companions. He brought the latest news from London, which the ladies
+were glad enough to hear. For to Dorothy Roden, at least, The Hague was
+a place of exile, where men lived different lives and women thought
+different thoughts. Are there not a hundred little rivulets of news
+which never flow through the journals, but are passed from mouth to
+mouth, and seem shallow enough, but which, uniting at last, form a
+great stream of public opinion, and this, having formed itself
+imperceptibly, is suddenly found in full flow, and is so obvious that
+the newspapers forget to mention it? Thus colonists and other exiles
+returning to England, and priding themselves upon having kept in touch
+with the progress of events and ideas in the old country, find that
+their thoughts have all the while been running in the wrong
+channels--that seemingly great events have been considered very small,
+that small ideas have been lifted high by the babbling crowd which is
+vaguely called society.
+
+From Tony Cornish, Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy learnt that among other
+social playthings charity was for the moment being laid aside. We have
+inherited, it appears, a great box of playthings, and the careful
+ student of history will find that none of the toys are new--that they
+have indeed been played with by our forefathers, who did just as we do.
+They took each toy from the box, and cried aloud that it was new, that
+the world had never seen its like before. Had it not, indeed? Then
+presently the toy--be it charity, or a new religion, or sentiment, or
+greed of gain, or war--is thrown back into the box again, where it lies
+until we of a later day drag it forth with the same cry that it is new.
+We grow wild with excitement over South African mines, and never
+recognize the old South Sea bubble trimmed anew to suit the taste of
+the day. We crow with delight over our East End slums, and never
+recognize the patched-up remnants of the last Crusade that fizzled out
+so ignominiously at Acre five hundred years ago.
+
+So Tony Cornish, who was _dans le movement_ gently intimated to his
+hearers that what may be called a robuster tone ruled the spirit of the
+age. Charity was going down, athletics were coming up. Another
+Olympiad had passed away. Wise indeed was Solon, who allowed four years
+for men to soften and to harden again. During the Olympiads it is to be
+presumed that men busied themselves with the slums that existed in
+those days, hearkened to the decadent poetry or fiction of that time,
+and then, as the robuster period of the games came round, braced
+themselves once more to the consideration of braver things.
+
+It appeared, therefore, that the Malgamite scheme was already a thing
+of the past so far as social London was concerned. A sensational
+'Varsity boat-race had given charity its _coup de grace_, had ushered
+in the spring, when even the poor must shift for themselves.
+
+“And in the mean time,” commented Mrs. Vansittart, “here are four
+hundred industrials landed, if one may so put it, at The Hague.”
+
+“Yes; but that will be all right,” retorted Cornish, with his gay
+laugh. “They only wanted a start. They have got their start. What more
+can they desire? Is not Lord Ferriby himself coming across? He is at
+the moment on board the Flushing boat. And he is making a great
+sacrifice, for he must be aware that he does not look nearly so
+impressive on the Continent as he does, say in Piccadilly, where the
+policemen know him, and even the newspaper boys are dimly aware that
+this is no ordinary man to whom one may offer a halfpenny Radical
+paper----”
+
+Cornish broke off, and looked towards the door, which was at this
+moment thrown open by a servant, who announced--“Herr Roden. Herr von
+Holzen.”
+
+The two men came forward together, Roden slouching and
+heavy-shouldered, but well dressed; Von Holzen smaller, compacter, with
+a thoughtful, still face and calculating eyes. Roden introduced his
+companion to the two ladies. It is possible that a certain reluctance
+in his manner indicated the fact that he had brought Von Holzen against
+his own desire. Either Von Holzen had asked to be brought or Mrs.
+Vansittart had intimated to Roden that she would welcome his associate,
+but this was not touched upon in the course of the introduction.
+Cornish looked gravely on. Von Holzen was betrayed into a momentary
+gaucheness, as if he were not quite at home in a drawing-room.
+
+
+
+
+Roden drew forward a chair, and seated himself near to Mrs. Vansittart
+with an air of familiarity which the lady seemed rather to invite than
+to resent. They had, it appeared, many topics in common. Roden had come
+with the purpose of seeing Mrs. Vansittart, and no one else. Her
+manner, also, changed as soon as Roden entered the room, and seemed to
+appeal with a sort of deference to his judgment of all that she said or
+did. It was a subtle change, and perhaps no one noticed it, though
+Dorothy, who was exchanging conventional remarks with Von Holzen,
+glanced across the room once.
+
+“Ah,” Von Holzen was saying in his grave way, with his head bent a
+little forward, as if the rounded brow were heavy--“ah, but I am only
+the chemist, Miss Roden. It is your brother who has placed us on our
+wonderful financial basis. He has a head for finance, your brother, and
+is quick in his calculations. He understands money, whereas I am only a
+scientist.”
+
+He spoke English correctly but slowly, with the Dutch accent, which is
+slighter and less guttural than the German. Dorothy was interested in
+him, and continued to talk with him, leaving Cornish standing at a
+little distance, teacup in hand. Von Holzen was in strong contrast to
+the two Englishmen. He was graver, more thoughtful, a man of deeper
+purpose and more solid intellect. There was something dimly Napoleonic
+in the direct and calculating glance of his eyes, as if he never looked
+idly at anything or any man. It was he who made a movement after the
+lapse of a few moments only, as if, having recovered his slight
+embarrassment, he did not intend to stay longer than the merest
+etiquette might demand. He crossed the room, and stood before Mrs.
+Vansittart, with his heels clapped well together, making the most
+formal conversation, which was only varied by a stiff bow.
+
+“I have a friendly recollection,” he said, preparing to take his leave,
+“of a Charles Vansittart, a student at Leyden, with whom I was brought
+into contact again in later life. He was, I believe, from Amsterdam, of
+an English mother.”
+
+“Ah!” replied Mrs. Vansittart. “Mine is a common name.”
+
+And they bowed to each other in the foreign way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DEEPER WATER.
+
+“Une bonne intention est une échelle trop courte.”
+
+
+“I have had considerable experience in such matters, and I think I may
+say that the new financial scheme worked out by Mr. Roden and myself is
+a sound one,” Lord Ferriby was saying in his best manner.
+
+He was addressing Major White, Tony Cornish, Von Holzen, and Percy
+Roden, convened to a meeting in the private _salon_ occupied by the
+Ferribys at the Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery, at The Hague.
+
+The _salon_ in question was at the front of the house on the first
+floor, and therefore looked out upon the Toornoifeld, where the trees
+were beginning to show a tender green, under the encouragement of a
+ treacherous April sun. Major White, seated bolt upright in his chair,
+looked with a gentle surprise out of the window. He had so small an
+opinion of his understanding that he usually begged explanatory persons
+to excuse him. “No doubt you're quite right, but it's no use trying to
+explain it to _me_, don't you know,” he was in the habit of saying, and
+his attitude said no less at the present moment.
+
+
+Von Holzen, with his chin in the palm of his hand, watched Lord
+Ferriby's face with a greater attention than that transparent
+physiognomy required. Roden's attention was fully occupied by the
+papers on the table in front of him. He was seated by Lord Ferriby's
+side, ready to prompt or assist, as behoved a merely mechanical
+subordinate. Lord Ferriby, dimly conscious of this mental attitude, had
+spoken Roden's name with considerable patronage, and with the evident
+desire to give every man his due. Cornish, in his quick and superficial
+way, glanced from one face to the other, taking in _en passant_ any
+object in the room that happened to call for a momentary attention. He
+noted the passive and somewhat bovine surprise on White's face, and
+wondered whether it owed its presence thereto astonishment at finding
+himself taking part in a committee meeting or amazement at the
+suggestion that Lord Ferriby should be capable of evolving any scheme,
+financial or otherwise, out of his own brain. The committee thus
+summoned was a fair sample of its kind. Here were a number of men
+ dividing a sense of responsibility among them so impartially that there
+was not nearly enough of it to go round. In a multitude of councilors
+there may be safety, but it is assuredly the councillors only who are
+safe.
+
+“The reasons,” continued Lord Ferriby, “why it is inexpedient to
+continue in our present position as mere trustees of a charitable fund
+are too numerous to go into at the present moment. Suffice it to say
+that there are many such reasons, and that I have satisfied myself of
+their soundness. Our chief desire is to ameliorate the condition of the
+malgamite workers. It must assuredly suggest itself to any one of us
+that the best method of doing this is to make the malgamite workers an
+independent corporation, bound together by the greatest of ties, a
+common interest.”
+
+The speaker paused, and turned to Roden with a triumphant smile, as
+much as to say, “There, beat that if you can.”
+
+Roden could not beat it, so he nodded thoughtfully, and examined the
+point of his pen.
+
+“Gentlemen,” said Lord Ferriby, impressively, “the greatest common
+interest is a common purse.”
+
+As the meeting was too small for applause, Lord Ferriby only allowed
+sufficient time for this great truth to be assimilated, and then
+continued--“It is proposed, therefore, that we turn the Malgamite
+Works into a company, the most numerous shareholders to be the
+malgamiters themselves. The most numerous shareholders, mark
+you--not the heaviest shareholders. These shall be ourselves. We
+propose to estimate the capital of the company at ten thousand pounds,
+which, as you know, is, approximately speaking, the amount
+raised by our appeals on behalf of this great charity. We shall divide
+this capital into two thousand five-pound shares, allot one share to
+each malgamite worker--say five hundred shares--and retain the
+rest--say fifteen hundred shares--ourselves. Of those fifteen hundred,
+it is proposed to allot three hundred to each of us. Do I make myself
+clear?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Major White, optimistically polishing his eye-glass
+with a pocket-handkerchief. “Any ass could understand that.”
+
+“Our friend Mr. Roden,” continued his lordship, “who, I mention in
+passing, is one of the finest financiers with whom I have ever had
+ relationship, is of opinion that this company, having its works in
+Holland, should not be registered as a limited company in England. The
+reasons for holding such an opinion are, briefly, connected with the
+interference of the English law in the management of a limited
+liability company formed for the sole purpose of making money.
+We are not disposed to classify ourselves as such a company. We are not
+disposed to pay the English income tax on money which is intended for
+distribution in charity. Each malgamite worker, with his one share, is
+not, precisely speaking, so much a shareholder as a participator in
+profits. We are not in any sense a limited liability company.”
+
+That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently
+indicated by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture
+with portentous gravity and wisdom.
+
+“As to the question of profit and loss,” continued Lord Ferriby, “I am
+not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware
+that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands.
+It is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any
+way profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name
+only, and receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of
+the Malgamite Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we
+have administered the fund--for the sole benefit of the malgamite
+workers. The profits of these poor men, earned on their own share, may
+reasonably be considered in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis
+upon which I propose that we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's
+careful consideration, and I think we are ready to give our consent to
+any proposal which has received so marked a benefit. There are, of
+course, many details which will require discussion----Eh?”
+
+Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a
+few words.
+
+“Ah--yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as
+much as possible.”
+
+This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had
+yawned more than once.
+
+“Now as to the past,” continued Lord Ferriby. “The works have been
+going for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly
+satisfactory----Eh?”
+
+“Many deaths?” inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
+
+“Deaths? Ah--among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von Holzen
+can tell you better than I.”
+
+And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across
+the table.
+
+“Yes,” replied Von Holzen, quietly, “there have, of course, been
+deaths, but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had,
+as Mr. Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they
+arrived at The Hague.”
+
+“They certainly looked seedy,” admitted Tony.
+
+“We will, I think, turn rather to the--eh--er--living,” said Lord
+Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly
+reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of
+White to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was
+that charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical
+facts, if these be discouraging. “I have here the result of the three
+months' work.”
+
+He looked at the papers with so condescending an air that it was quite
+evident that, had he been a business man and not a lord, he would have
+understood them at a glance. There was a short silence while he turned
+over the closely written sheets with an air of approving interest.
+
+“Yes,” he said, as if during those moments he had run his eye up all
+the column of figures and found them correct, “the result, as I say,
+gentlemen, has been most satisfactory. We have manufactured a malgamite
+which has been well received by the paper-makers. We have, furthermore,
+been able to supply at the current rate without any serious loss. We
+are increasing our plant, and the day is not so far distant when we
+may, at all events, hope to be self-supporting.”
+
+Lord Ferriby sat up and pulled down his waistcoat, a sure signal that
+the fountain of his garrulous inspiration was for the moment dried up.
+
+With great presence of mind Tony Cornish interposed a question which
+only Roden could answer, and after the consideration of some
+statistics, the proceedings terminated. It had been apparent all
+through that Percy Roden was the only business man of the party.
+In any question of figures or statistics his colleagues showed plainly
+that they were at sea. Lord Ferriby had in early life been managed by
+a thrifty mother, who had in due course married him to a thrifty wife.
+Tony Cornish's business affairs had been narrowed down to the financial
+fiasco of a tailor's bill far beyond his facilities. Major White had,
+in his subaltern days, been despatched from Gibraltar on a business
+quest into the interior of Spain to buy mules there for his Queen and
+country. He fell out with a dealer at Ronda, whom he knocked down, and
+returned to Gibraltar branded as unbusiness-like and hasty, and there
+his commercial enterprise had terminated. Von Holzen was only a
+scientist, a fact of which he assured his colleagues repeatedly.
+
+If plain speaking be a sign of friendship, then women are assuredly
+capable of higher flights than men. A lifelong friendship between two
+women usually means that they quarrelled at school, and have retained
+in later days the privilege of mutual plain speaking. If Jones, who was
+Tompkins's best man, goes yachting with Tompkins in later days, these
+two sinners are quite capable of enjoying themselves immensely in the
+present without raking about among the ashes of the past to seek the
+reason why Tompkins persisted, in spite of his friends' advice, in
+making an idiot of himself over that Robinson girl--Jones standing by
+all the while with the ring in his waistcoat pocket. Whereas, if the
+friendship existed between the respective ladies of Jones and Tompkins,
+their conversation will usually be found to begin with: “I always told
+you, Maria, when we were girls together,” or, “Well, Jane, when we were
+at school you never would listen to me.” A man's friendship is
+apparently based upon a knowledge of another's redeeming qualities. A
+woman's dearest friend is she whose faults will bear the closest
+investigation.
+
+It was doubtless owing to these trifling variations in temperament that
+Joan Ferriby learnt more about The Hague and Percy Roden and Otto von
+Holzen, and lastly, though not leastly, Mrs. Vansittart, in ten minutes
+than Tony Cornish could have learnt in a month of patient
+investigation. The first five of these ten precious minutes were spent
+in kissing Dorothy Roden, and admiring her hat, and holding her at
+arm's length, and saying, with conviction, that she was a dear. Then
+Joan asked why Dorothy had ceased writing, and Dorothy proved that it
+was Joan who had been in default, and lo! a bridge was thrown across
+the years, and they were friends once more.
+
+“And you mean to tell me,” said Joan, as they walked up the Korte
+Voorhout towards the canal and the Wood, “that you don't take any
+interest in the Malgamite scheme?”
+
+“No,” answered Dorothy. “And I am weary of the very word.”
+
+“But then you always were rather--well, frivolous, weren't you?”
+
+“I did not take lessons as seriously as you, perhaps, if that is what
+you mean,” admitted Dorothy.
+
+And Joan, who had come across to Holland full of zeal in well-doing,
+and as seriously as ever Queen Marguerite sailed to the Holy Land,
+walked on in silence. The trees were just breaking into leaf, and the
+air was laden with a subtle odour of spring. The Korte Voorhout is, as
+many know, a short broad street, spotlessly clean, bordered on either
+side by quaint and comfortable houses. The traffic is usually limited
+to one carriage going to the Wood, and on the pavement a few leisurely
+persons engaged in taking exercise in the sunshine. It was a different
+atmosphere to that from which Joan had come, more restful, purer
+perhaps, and certainly healthier, possibly more thoughtful; and
+charity, above all virtues, to be practiced well must be practiced
+without too much reflection. He who lets wisdom guide his bounty too
+closely will end by giving nothing at all.
+
+“At all events,” said Joan, “it is splendid of Mr. Roden to work so
+hard in the cause, and to give himself up to it as he does.”
+
+“Ye--es.”
+
+Joan turned sharply and looked at her companion. Dorothy Roden's face
+was not, perhaps, easy to read, especially when she turned, as she
+turned now, to meet an inquiring glance with an easy smile.
+
+“I have known so many of Percy's schemes,” she explained, “that you
+must not expect me to be enthusiastic about this.”
+
+“But this must succeed, whatever may have happened to the others,”
+ cried Joan. “It is such a good cause. Surely nothing can be a better
+aim than to help such afflicted people, who cannot help themselves,
+Dorothy! And it is so splendidly organized. Why, Mr. Johnson, the
+labour expert, you know, who wears no collar and a soft hat, said that
+it could not have been better organized if it had been a strike. And a
+Bishop Somebody--a dear old man with legs like a billiard-table--said
+it reminded him of the early Christians' _esprit de corps_, or
+something like that. Doesn't sound like a bishop, though, does it?”
+
+“No, it doesn't,” admitted Dorothy, doubtfully.
+
+“So if your brother thinks it will not succeed,” said Joan,
+confidently, “he is wrong. Besides”--in a final voice--“he has Tony to
+help him, you know.”
+
+“Yes,” said Dorothy, looking straight in front of her, “of course he
+has Mr. Cornish.”
+
+“And Tony,” pursued Joan, eagerly, “always succeeds. There is something
+about him--I don't know what it is.”
+
+Dorothy recollected that Mrs. Vansittart had said something like this
+about Tony Cornish. She had said that he had the power of holding his
+cards and only playing them at the right moment. Which is perhaps
+the secret of success in life, namely, to hold one's cards, and, if the
+right moment does not present itself, never to play them at all, but to
+hold them to the end of the game, contenting one's self with the
+knowledge that one has had, after all, the makings of a fine game that
+might have been worth the playing.
+
+“There are people, you know,” Joan broke in earnestly, “who think that
+if they can secure Tony for a picnic the weather will be fine.”
+
+“And does he know it?” asked Dorothy, rather shortly.
+
+“Tony?” laughed Joan. “Of course not. He never thinks about anything
+like that.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN THE OUDE WEG.
+
+“Le sage entend à demi mot.”
+
+
+The porter of the hotel on the Toornoifeld was enjoying his early
+cigarette in the doorway, when he was impelled by a natural politeness
+to stand aside for one of the visitors in the hotel.
+
+“Ah!” he said. “You promenade yourself thus early?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Cornish, cheerily, “I promenade myself thus early.”
+
+“You have had your coffee?” asked the porter. “It is not good to go
+near the canals when one is empty.”
+
+Cornish lingered a few minutes, and made the man's mind easy on this
+point. There are many who obtain a vast deal of information without
+ever asking a question, just as there are some--and they are mostly
+women--who ask many questions and are told many lies. Tony Cornish had
+a cheery way with him which made other men talk. He was also as quick
+as a woman. He went about the world picking up information.
+
+The city clocks were striking seven as he walked across the
+Toornoifeld, where the morning mist still lingered among the trees. The
+great square was almost deserted. Holland, unlike France, is a lie-abed
+country, and at an hour when a French town would be astir and its
+streets already thronged with people hurrying to buy or sell at the
+greatest possible advantage, a Dutch city is still asleep. Park Straat
+was almost deserted as Cornish walked briskly down it towards the
+Willem's Park and Scheveningen. A few street cleaners were leisurely
+working, a few milkmen were hurrying from door to door, but the houses
+were barred and silent.
+
+Cornish walked on the right-hand side of the road, which made it all
+the easier for Mrs. Vansittart to perceive him from her bedroom window
+as he passed Oranje Straat.
+
+“Ah!” said that lady, and rang the bell for her maid, to whom she
+explained that she had a sudden desire to take a promenade this fine
+morning.
+
+So Tony Cornish walked down the Oude Weg under the trees of that great
+thoroughfare, with Mrs. Vansittart following him leisurely by one of
+the side paths, which, being elevated above the road enabled her to
+look down upon the Englishman and keep him in sight. When he came
+within view of the broad road that cuts the Scheveningen wood in two
+and leads from the East Dunes to the West--from the Malgamite Works, in
+a word, to the cemetery--he sat down on a bench hidden by the trees.
+And Mrs. Vansittart, a hundred yards behind him, took possession of a
+seat as effectually concealed.
+
+They remained thus for some time, the object of a passing curiosity to
+the fish-merchants journeying from Scheveningen to The Hague. Then Tony
+Cornish seemed to perceive something on the road towards the sea which
+interested him, and Mrs. Vansittart, rising from her seat, walked down
+to the main pathway, which commanded an uninterrupted view. That which
+had attracted Cornish's attention was a funeral, cheap, sordid, and
+obscure, which moved slowly across the Oude Weg by the road, crossing
+it at right angles. It was a peculiar funeral, inasmuch as it consisted
+of three hearses and one mourning carriage. The dead were, therefore,
+almost as numerous as the living, an unusual feature in civil burials.
+From the window of the rusty mourning coach there looked a couple of
+debased countenances, flushed with drink and that special form of
+excitement which is especially associated with a mourning coach hired
+on credit and a funeral beyond one's means. Behind these two faces
+loomed others. There seemed to be six men within the carriage.
+
+The procession was not inspiriting, and Cornish's face was momentarily
+grave as he watched it. When it had passed, he rose and walked slowly
+back towards The Hague. Before he had gone far, he met Mrs. Vansittart
+face to face, who rose from a seat as he approached.
+
+“Well, _mon ami_,” she asked, with a short laugh, “have you had a
+pleasant walk?”
+
+“It has had a pleasant end, at all events,” he replied, meeting her
+glance with an imperturbable smile.
+
+She jerked her head upwards with a little foreign gesture of
+indifference.
+
+“It is to be presumed,” she said, as they walked on side by side, “that
+you have been exploring and investigating our--byways. Remember, my
+good Tony, that I live in The Hague, and may therefore be possessed of
+information that might be useful to you. It will probably be at your
+disposal when you need it.”
+
+She looked at him with daring black eyes, and laughed. A strong man
+usually takes a sort of pride in his power. This woman enjoyed the same
+sort of exultation in her own cleverness. She was not wise enough to
+hide it, which is indeed a grim, negative pleasure usually enjoyed by
+elderly gentlemen only. Social progress has, moreover, made it almost a
+crime to hide one's light under a bushel. Are we not told, in so many
+words, by the interviewer and the personal paragraphist, that it is
+every man's duty to set his light upon a candlestick, so that his
+neighbour may at least try to blow it out?
+
+Cornish had learnt to know Mrs. Vansittart at a period in her life
+when, as a young married woman, she regarded all her juniors with a
+matronly goodwill, none the less active that it was so exceedingly new.
+She had in those days given much good advice, which Cornish had
+respectfully heard. Fate had brought them together at the rare moment
+and in almost the sole circumstances that allow of a friendship being
+formed between a man and a woman.
+
+They walked slowly side by side now under the trees of the Oude Weg,
+inhaling the fresh morning air, which was scented by a hundred breaths
+of spring, and felt clean to face and lips. Mrs. Vansittart had no
+intention of resigning her position of mentor and friend. It was,
+moreover, one of those positions which will not bear being defined in
+so many words. Between men and women it often happens that to point out
+the existence of certain feelings is to destroy them. To say, “Be my
+friend,” as often as not makes friendship impossible. Mrs. Vansittart
+was too clever a woman to run such a risk in dealing with a man in whom
+she had detected a reserve of which the rest of the world had taken no
+account. It is unwise to enter into war or friendship without seeing to
+the reserves.
+
+“Do you remember,” asked Mrs. Vansittart, suddenly, “how wise we were
+when we were young? What knowledge of the world, what experience of
+life one has when all life is before one!”
+
+“Yes,” admitted Cornish, guardedly.
+
+“But if I preached a great deal, I at all events did you no harm,” said
+Mrs. Vansittart, with a laugh.
+
+“No.”
+
+“And as to experience, well, one buys that later.”
+
+“Yes; and the wise re-sell--at a profit,” laughed Cornish. “It is not a
+commodity that any one cares to keep. If we cannot sell it, we offer it
+for nothing, to the young.”
+
+“Who accept it, at an even lower valuation; and you and I, Mr. Tony
+Cornish, are cynics who talk cheap epigrams to hide our thoughts.”
+
+They walked on for a few yards in silence. Then Tony turned in his
+quick way and looked at her. He had thin, mobile lips, which expressed
+friendship and curiosity at this moment.
+
+“What are _you_ thinking?” he asked.
+
+She turned and looked at him with grave, searching eyes, and when these
+met his it became apparent that their friendship had re-established
+itself.
+
+“Of your affairs,” she answered, “and funerals.”
+
+“Both lugubrious,” suggested Cornish. “But I am obliged to you for so
+far honouring me.”
+
+He broke off, and again walked on in silence. She glanced at him half
+angrily, and gave a quick shrug of the shoulders.
+
+“Then you will not speak,” she said, opening her parasol with a snap.
+“So be it. The time has perhaps not come yet. But if I am in the humour
+when that time does come, you will find that you have no ally so strong
+as I. Ah, you may stick your chin out and look as innocent as you like!
+You are not easy in your mind, my good friend, about this precious
+Malgamite scheme. But I ask no confidences, and, _bon Dieu_! I give
+none.”
+
+She broke off with a little laugh, and looked at him beneath the shade
+of her parasol. She had a hundred foreign ways of putting a whole
+wealth of meaning into a single gesture, into a movement of a parasol
+or a fan, such as women acquire, and use upon poor defenceless men, who
+must needs face the world with stolid faces and slow, dumb hands.
+
+Cornish answered the laugh readily enough. “Ah!” he said, “then I am
+accused of uneasiness of mind of preoccupation, in fact. I plead
+guilty. I made a mistake. I got up too early. It was a fine morning,
+and I was tempted to take a walk before breakfast, which we have at
+half-past nine, in a fine old British way. We have toast and a fried
+sole. Great is the English milord!”
+
+They were in Park Straat now, in sight of Mrs. Vansittart's house. And
+that lady knew that her companion was talking in order to say nothing.
+
+“We leave this morning,” continued Cornish, in the same vein. “And we
+rather flatter ourselves that we have upheld the dignity of our nation
+in these benighted foreign parts.”
+
+“Ah, that poor Lord Ferriby! It is so easy to laugh at him. You think
+him a fool, although--or because--he is your uncle. So do I, perhaps.
+But I always have a little distrust for the foolishness of a person
+who has once been a knave. You know your uncle's reputation--the past
+one, I mean, not the whitewash. Do not forget it.” They had reached the
+corner of Oranje Straat, and Mrs. Vansittart paused on her own
+doorstep. “So you leave this morning,” she said. “Remember that I am in
+The Hague, and--well, we were once friends. If I can help you, make use
+of me. You have been wonderfully discreet, my friend. And I have not.
+But discretion is not required of a woman. If there is anything to tell
+you, you shall hear from me.”
+
+She held out her hand, and bade him good-bye with a semi-malicious
+laugh. Then she stood in the porch, and watched him walk quickly away.
+
+“So it is Dorothy Roden,” she said to herself, with a wise nod. “A
+queer case. One of those at first sight, one may suppose.”
+
+The Rodens, of whom she thought at the moment, were not only thinking,
+but speaking of her. They had finished breakfast, and Dorothy was
+standing at the window looking out over the Dunes towards the sea.
+Her brother was still seated at the table, and had lighted a cigarette.
+Like many another who offers an exaggerated respect to women as a
+whole, he was rather inclined to Bohemianism at home, and denied to
+his immediate feminine relations the privileges accorded to their sex
+in general. He was older than Dorothy, who had always been dependent
+upon him to a certain extent. She had a little money of her own, and
+quite recognized the fact that, should her brother marry, she would
+have to work for her living. In the mean time, however, it suited them
+both to live together, and Dorothy had for her brother that affection
+of which only women are capable. It amounts to an affectionate
+tolerance more than to a tolerant affection. For it perceives its
+object's little failings with a calm and judicial eye. It weighs the
+man in the balance, and finds him wanting. This, moreover, is the lot
+of a large proportion of women. This takes the place of that higher
+feeling which is probably the finest emotion of which the human heart
+is capable. And yet there are men who grudge these sufferers their
+petty triumphs, their poor little emancipation, their paltry
+wrangler-ships, their very bicycles.
+
+“You don't like this place--I know that,” Percy Roden was saying, in
+continuation of a desultory conversation. He looked up from the letters
+before him with a smile which was kind enough and a little patronizing.
+Patronage is perhaps the armour of the outwitted.
+
+“Not very much,” answered Dorothy, with a laugh. “But I dare say it
+will be better in the summer.”
+
+“I mean this villa,” pursued Roden, flicking the ash from his cigarette
+and leaning back in his chair. He had grand, rather tired gestures,
+which possibly impressed some people. Grandeur, however, like
+sentiment, is not indigenous to the hearth. Our domestic admirers are
+not always watching us.
+
+Dorothy was looking out of the window. “It is not a bad little place,”
+ she said practically, “when one has grown accustomed to its sandiness.”
+
+“It will not be for long,” said Percy Roden.
+
+And his sister turned and looked at him with a sudden gravity.
+
+“Ah!” she said.
+
+“No; I have been thinking that it will be better for us to move into
+The Hague--Park Straat or Oranje Straat.”
+
+Dorothy turned and faced him now. There was a faint, far-off
+resemblance between these two, but Dorothy had the better
+face--shrewder, more thoughtful, cleverer. Her eyes, instead of being
+large and dark and rather dreamy, were grey and speculative. Her
+features were clear-cut and well-cut--a face suggestive of feeling and
+of self-suppression, which, when they go together, go to the making of
+a satisfactory human being. This was a woman who, to put it quite
+plainly, would scarcely have been held in honour by our grandmothers,
+but who promised well enough for her possible granddaughters; who, when
+the fads are lived down and the emancipation is over and the shrieking
+is done, will make a very excellent grandmother to a race of women who
+shall be equal to men and respected of men, and, best of all, beloved
+of men. Wise mothers say that their daughters must sooner or later pass
+through an awkward age. Woman is passing through an awkward age now,
+and Dorothy Roden might be classed among those who are doing it
+gracefully.
+
+She looked at her brother with those wise grey eyes, and did not speak
+at once.
+
+“Oranje Straat and Park Straat,” she said lightly, “cost money.”
+
+“Oh, that is all right!” answered her brother, carelessly, as one who
+in his time has handled great sums.
+
+“Then we are prosperous?” inquired Dorothy, mindful of other great
+ schemes which had not always done their duty by their originator.
+
+“Oh yes! We shall make a good thing out of this Malgamite. The labourer
+is worthy of his hire, you know. There is no reason why we should not
+take a better house than this. Mrs. Vansittart knows of one in Park
+Straat which would suit us. Do you like her--Mrs. Vansittart, I mean?”
+
+His tone was slightly patronizing again. The Malgamite was a success,
+it appeared, and assuredly success is the most difficult emergency that
+a man has to face in life.
+
+“Very much,” answered Dorothy, quietly. She looked hard at her brother;
+for Dorothy had long ago gauged him, and had recently gauged Mrs.
+Vansittart with a facility which is quite incomprehensible to men and
+easy enough to women. She knew that her brother was not the sort of man
+to arouse the faintest spark of love in the heart of such a woman as
+her of whom they spoke. And yet Percy's tone implied as clearly as if
+the words had been spoken that he had merely to offer to Mrs.
+Vansittart his hand and heart in order to make her the happiest of
+women. Either Dorothy or her brother was mistaken in Mrs. Vansittart.
+Between a man and a woman it is usually the man who is mistaken in an
+estimate of another woman. Dorothy was wondering, not whether Mrs.
+Vansittart admired her brother, but why that lady was taking the
+trouble to convey to him that such was the case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+SUBURBAN
+
+“Le bonheur c'est être né joyeux.”
+
+
+There are in the suburbs of London certain strata of men which lie in
+circles of diminishing density around the great city, like _debris_
+around a volcano. London indeed erupts every evening between the hours
+of five and six, and throws out showers of tired men, who lie where
+they fall--or rather where their season ticket drops them--until
+morning, when they arise and crowd back again to the seething crater.
+The deposits of small clerks and tradespeople fall near at hand in a
+dense shower, bounded on the north by Finchley, on the south by
+Streatham. An outer circle of head clerks, Government servants, junior
+partners, covers the land in a stratum reaching as far south as
+Surbiton, as far north as the Alexandra Palace. And beyond these limits
+are cast the brighter lights of commerce, law, and finance, who fall, a
+thin golden shower, in the favoured neighbourhoods of the far suburbs,
+where, from eventide till morning, they play at being country
+gentlemen, talking stock and stable, with minds attuned to share and
+produce.
+
+Mr. Joseph Wade, banker, was one of those who are thrown far afield by
+the facilities of a fine suburban train service. He wore a frock-coat,
+a very shiny hat, and he read the _Times_ in the train. He lived in a
+staring red house, solid brick without and solid comfort within, in the
+favoured pine country of Weybridge. He was one of those pillars of the
+British Constitution who are laughed at behind their backs and
+eminently respected to their faces. His gardeners trembled before him,
+his coachman, as stout and respectable as himself, knew him to be a
+just and a good master, who grudged no man his perquisites, and behaved
+with a fine gentlemanly tact at those trying moments when the departing
+visitor is desirous of tipping and the coachman knows that it is
+blessed to receive.
+
+Mr. Wade rather scorned the amateur country-gentleman hobby which so
+many of his travelling companions affected. It led them to don rough
+tweed suits on Sunday, and walk about their paddocks and gardens as if
+these formed a great estate.
+
+“I am a banker,” he said, with that sound common sense which led him to
+avoid those cheap affectations of superiority that belong to the outer
+strata of the daily volcanic deposit--“I am a banker, and I am content
+to be a banker in the evening and on Sundays, as well as during
+bank-hours. What should I know about horses or Alderneys or Dorking
+fowls? None of 'em yield a dividend.”
+
+Mr. Wade, in fact, looked upon “The Brambles” as a place of rest,
+arriving there at half-past six, in time to dress for a very good
+dinner. After dinner he read in a small way by no means to be despised.
+He had a taste for biography, and cherished in his stout heart a fine
+old respect for Thackeray and Dickens and Walter Scott. Of the modern
+fictionists he knew nothing.
+
+“Seems to me they are splitting straws, my dear,” he once said to an
+earnest young person who thought that literature meant contemporary
+fiction, whereas we all know that the two are in no way connected.
+
+Joseph Wade was a widower, having some years before buried a wife as
+stout and sensible as himself. He never spoke of her except to his
+daughter Marguerite, now leaving school, and usually confined his
+remarks to a consideration of what Marguerite's mother would have liked
+in the circumstances under discussion at the moment.
+
+Marguerite had been educated at Cheltenham, and “finished” at Dresden,
+without any limit as to extras. She had come home from Dresden a few
+months before the Malgamite scheme was set on foot, to find herself
+regarded by her father in the light of a rather delicate financial
+crisis. The affection which had always existed between father and
+daughter soon developed into something stronger--something volatile and
+half mocking on her part, indulgent and half mystified on his.
+
+“She is rather a handful,” wrote Mr. Wade to Tony Cornish, “and too
+inconsequent to let my mind be easy about her future. I wish you would
+run down and dine and sleep at 'The Brambles' some evening soon. Monday
+is Marguerite's eighteenth birthday. Will you come on that evening?”
+
+“He is not thirty-three yet,” reflected Mr. Wade, as he folded the
+letter and slipped it into an envelope, “and she is the sort of girl
+who must be able to give a man her full respect before she can give
+him--er--anything else.”
+
+From which it may be perceived that the astute banker was preparing to
+face the delicate financial crisis.
+
+Cornish received the invitation the day after returning from Holland.
+Mr. Wade had been his father's friend and trustee, and was, he
+understood, distantly related to the mother whom Tony had never known.
+Such invitations were not infrequent, and it was the recipient's custom
+to set aside others in order to reply with an acceptance. A friendship
+had sprung up between two men who were not only divided by a gulf of
+years, but had hardly a thought in common.
+
+On arriving at Weybridge station, Cornish found Marguerite awaiting his
+arrival in a very high dog-cart drawn by an exceedingly shiny cob,
+which animal she proceeded to handle with vast spirit and a blithe
+ignorance. She looked trim and fresh, with bright brown hair under a
+smart sailor hat, and a complexion almost dazzling in its youthfulness
+and brilliancy. She nodded gaily at Cornish.
+
+“Hop up,” she said encouragingly, “and then hang on like grim death.
+There are going to be--whoa, my pet!--er--ructions. All right, William.
+Let go.”
+
+William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob
+squeaked, stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then
+dashed across the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to
+observe a bank of stones at one side of the road.
+
+“Do you mind this sort of thing?” inquired Marguerite, as they bumped
+heavily over the obstruction.
+
+“Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it.” Marguerite
+arranged the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle
+across her companion's vision.
+
+“I'm learning to drive, you know,” she said, leaning confidently down
+from her high seat. “And papa thinks that because this young gentleman
+is rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady!
+Keep off the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to--Well, I'm”--she
+hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to
+the road again--“blowed,” she added, religiously completing her
+unfinished sentence.
+
+They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more
+steadily.
+
+“I am very glad you have come, you know,” Marguerite took the
+opportunity of assuring the visitor. “It is jolly slow, I can tell you,
+at times; and then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to
+manage. It took me a week to get this pony out of him. His great idea
+is for somebody to marry me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that
+has to be placed or sunk or something, somewhere. There was a young
+Scotchman here the week before last. I have forgotten his name already.
+John--something--Fairly. Yes, that is it--John Fairly, of
+Auchen-something. It is better to be John Fairly, of Auchen-something,
+than a belted earl, it appears.”
+
+“Did John tell you so himself?” inquired Tony.
+
+“Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on
+my guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice
+and sheer off.”
+
+“I will,” said Tony.
+
+“And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure
+that he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not
+speak to him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a
+Scotch accent--just a suspeecion of an accent, you know--nothing to get
+hold of, but just enough to let him know that his Auchen-something
+would not go down with me.”
+
+She spoke with a sort of inconsequent earnestness, a relic of the
+school-days she had so lately left behind. She did not seem to have had
+time to decide yet whether life was a rattling farce or a matter of
+deadly earnest. And who shall blame her, remembering that older heads
+than hers are no clearer on that point?
+
+On approaching the red villa by its short entrance drive of yellow
+gravel, they perceived Mr. Wade slowly walking in his garden. The
+garden of “The Brambles” was exactly the sort of garden one would
+expect to find attached to a house of that name. It was chiefly
+conspicuous for its lack of brambles, or indeed of any vegetable of
+such disorderly habit. Yellow gravel walks intersected smooth lawns.
+April having drawn almost to its close, there were thin red lines of
+tulips standing at attention all along the flowery borders. Not a stalk
+was out of place. One suspected that the flowers had been drilled by a
+martinet of a gardener. The sight of an honest weed would have been a
+relief to the eye. The curse of too much gardener and too little nature
+lay over the land.
+
+“Ah!” said Mr. Wade, holding out a large white hand. “You perceive me
+inspecting the garden, and if you glance in the direction of
+McPherson's cottage you will perceive McPherson watching me. I pay him
+a hundred and twenty and he knows that it is too much.”
+
+“By the way, papa,” put in Marguerite, gravely, “will you tell
+McPherson that he will receive a month's notice if he counts the
+peaches this summer, as he did last year?”
+
+Mr. Wade laughed, and promised her a freer hand in this matter. They
+walked in the trim garden until it was time to dress for dinner, and
+Cornish saw enough to convince him that Mr. Wade was fully occupied
+between banking hours in his capacity as Marguerite's father.
+
+That young lady came down as the bell rang, in a white dress as fresh
+and girlish as herself, and during the meal, which was long and
+somewhat solemn, entertained the guest with considerable liveliness. It
+was only after she had left them to their wine, over which the banker
+loved to linger in the old-fashioned way that Mr. Wade put on his grave
+financial air. He fingered his glass thoughtfully, as if choosing, not
+a subject of conversation, but a suitable way of approaching a
+premeditated question.
+
+“You do not recollect your mother?” he said suddenly.
+
+“No; she died when I was two years old.”
+
+Mr. Wade nodded, and slowly sipped his port. “Queer thing is,” he said,
+after a pause and looking towards the door, “that that child is
+startlingly like what your mother used to be at the age of eighteen,
+when I first knew her. Perhaps it is only my imagination--not that I
+have much of that. Perhaps all girls are alike at that age--a sort of
+freshness and an optimism that positively take one's breath away. At
+any rate, she reminds me of your mother.” He broke off, and looked at
+Cornish with his slow and rather ponderous smile. His attitude towards
+the world was indeed one of conscious ponderosity. He did not attempt
+to understand the lighter side of life, but took it seriously as a
+work-a-day matter. “I was once in love with your mother,” he stated
+squarely. “But circumstances were against us. You see, your father was
+a lord's younger brother, and that made a great difference in Clapham
+in those days. I felt it a good deal at the time, but I of course got
+over it years and years ago. No sentiment about me, Tony. Sentiment and
+seventeen stone won't balance, you know.” The great man slowly drew the
+decanter towards him. “She got a better husband in your father--a
+clever, bright chap--and I was best man, I recollect. It was about that
+time--about your age I was--that I took seriously to my work. Before, I
+had been a little wild. And that interest has lasted me right up to the
+present time. Take my word for it, Tony, the greatest interest in life
+would be money-making--if one only knew what to do with the money
+afterwards.” The banker had been eating a biscuit, and he now swept the
+crumbs together with his little finger from all sides in a lessening
+circle until they formed a heap upon the white tablecloth. “It
+accumulates,” he said slowly, “accumulates, accumulates. And, after
+all, one can only eat and drink the best that are to be obtained, and
+the best costs so little--a mere drop in the ocean.” He handed Tony
+the decanter as he spoke. “Then I married Marguerite's mother, some
+years afterwards, when I was a middle-aged man. She was the only
+daughter of--the bank, you know.”
+
+And that seemed to be all that there was to be said about Marguerite's
+mother.
+
+Tony Cornish nodded in his quick, sympathetic way. Mr. Wade had told
+him none of this before, but it was to be presumed that he had heard at
+least part of it from other sources. His manner now indicated that he
+was interested, but he did not ask his companion to say one word more
+than he felt disposed to utter. It is probable that he knew these to be
+no idle after-dinner words, spoken without premeditation, out of a full
+heart; for Mr. Wade was not, as he had boasted, a person of sentiment,
+but a plain, straightforward business man, who, if he had no meaning to
+convey, said nothing. And in this respect it is a pity that more are
+not like him.
+
+“We have always been pretty good friends, you and I,” continued the
+banker, “though I know I am not exactly your sort. I am distinctly
+City; you are as distinctly West End. But during your minority, and
+when we settled up accounts on your coming of age, and since then, we
+have always hit it off pretty well.”
+
+“Yes,” said Cornish, moving his feet impatiently under the table.
+
+There was no mistaking the aim of all this, and Mr. Wade was too
+British in his habits to beat about the bush much longer.
+
+“I do not mind telling you that I have got you down in my will,” said
+the banker.
+
+Cornish bit his lip and frowned at his wine-glass. And it is possible
+that the man of no sentiment understood his silence.
+
+“I have frequently disbelieved what I have heard of you,” went on the
+elder man. “You have, doubtless, enemies--as all men have--and you have
+been a trifle reckless, perhaps, of what the world might say. If you
+will allow me to say so, I think none the worse of you for that.”
+
+Mr. Wade pushed the decanter across the table, and when Cornish had
+filled his glass, drew it back towards himself. It is wonderful what
+resource there is in half a glass of wine, if merely to examine it when
+it is hard to look elsewhere.
+
+“You remember, six months ago, I spoke to you of a personal matter,”
+ said the banker. “I asked you if you had thoughts of marrying, and
+suggested something in the nature of a partnership if that would
+facilitate your plans in any way.”
+
+“That is not the sort of offer one is likely to forget,” answered
+Cornish.
+
+“I asked you if--well, if it was Joan Ferriby.”
+
+
+“Yes. And I answered that it was not Joan Ferriby. That was mere
+gossip, of which we are both aware, and for which neither of us cares
+a pin.”
+
+“Then it comes to this,” said Mr. Wade, drawing lines on the tablecloth
+with his dessert knife as if it were a balance-sheet, and he was
+casting the final totals there. “You are a man of the world; you are
+clever; you are like your father before you, in that you have something
+that women care about. Heaven only knows what it is, for I don't!” He
+paused, and looked at his companion as if seeking that intangible
+something. Then he jerked his head towards the drawing-room, where
+Marguerite could be dimly heard playing an air from the latest comic
+opera with a fine contempt for accidentals. “That child,” he said,
+“knows no more about life than a sparrow. A man like myself--seventeen
+stone--may have to balance his books at any moment. You have a clear
+field; for you may take my word for it that you will be the first in
+it. My own experience of life has been mostly financial, but I am
+pretty certain that the first man a woman cares for is the man she
+cares for all along, though she may never see him again. I don't hold
+it out as an inducement, but there is no reason why you should not know
+that she will have a hundred and fifty thousand pounds--not when I am
+dead, but on the day she marries.” Mr. Wade paused, and took a sip of
+his most excellent port. “Do not hurry,” he said. “Take your time.
+Think about it carefully--unless you have already thought about it, and
+can say yes or no now.”
+
+“I can do that.”
+
+Mr. Wade bent forward heavily, with one arm on the table.
+
+“Ah!” he said. “Which is it?”
+
+“It is no,” answered Cornish, simply. The banker passed his
+table-napkin across his lips, paused for a moment, and then rose with,
+as was his hospitable custom, his hand upon the sherry decanter. “Then
+let us go into the drawing-room,” he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE MAKING OF A MAN.
+
+“Heureux celui qui n'est forcée de sacrifier personne à son devoir.”
+
+
+“You know,” said Marguerite the next morning, as she and Cornish rode
+quietly along the sandy roads, beneath the shade of the pines--“you
+know, papa is such a jolly, simple old dear--he doesn't understand
+women in the least.”
+
+“And do you call yourself a woman nowadays?” inquired Cornish.
+
+“You bet. Bet those grey hairs of yours if you like.
+I see them! All down one side.”
+
+“They are all down both sides and on the top as well--my good--woman.
+How does your father fail to understand you?”
+
+“Well, to begin with, he thinks it necessary to have Miss Williams, to
+housekeep and chaperon, and to do oddments generally--as if I couldn't
+run the show myself. You haven't seen Miss Williams--oh, crikey!
+She has gone to Cheltenham for a holiday, for which you may thank your
+eternal stars. She is just the sort of person who _would_ go to
+Cheltenham. Then papa is desperately keen about my marrying. He keeps
+trotting likely _partis_ down here to dine and sleep--that's why you
+are here, I haven't a shadow of a doubt. None of the _partis_ have
+passed muster yet. Poor old thing, he thinks I do not see through his
+little schemes.”
+
+Cornish laughed, and glanced at Marguerite under the shade of his straw
+hat, wondering, as men have probably wondered since the ages began, how
+it is that women seem to begin life with as great a knowledge of the
+world as we manage to acquire towards the end of our experience.
+Marguerite made her statements with a certain careless _aplomb_, and
+these were usually within measurable distance of the fact, whereas a
+youth her age and ten years older, if he be of a didactic turn, will
+hold forth upon life and human nature with an ignorance of both which
+is positively appalling.
+
+“Now, I don't want to marry,” said Marguerite, suddenly returning to
+her younger and more earnest manner. “What is the good of marrying?”
+
+“What, indeed,” echoed Cornish.
+
+“Well, then, if papa tackles you--about me, I mean--when he has done
+the _Times_--he won't say anything before, the _Times_ being the first
+object in papa's existence, and yours very truly the second--just you
+choke him off--won't you?”
+
+“I will.”
+
+“Promise?”
+
+“Promise faithfully.”
+
+“That's all right. Now tell me--is my hat on one side?”
+
+
+Cornish assured her that her hat was straight, and then they talked of
+other things, until they came to a ditch suitable for some jumping
+lessons, which he had promised to give her.
+
+She was bewilderingly changeable, at one moment childlike, and in the
+next very wise--now a heedless girl, and a moment later a keen woman of
+the world--appearing to know more of that abode of evil than she well
+could. Her colour came and went--her very eyes seemed to change.
+Cornish thought of this open field which Marguerite's father had
+offered, and perhaps he thought of the hundred and fifty thousand
+pounds that lay beneath so bright a surface.
+
+On returning to “The Brambles,” they found Mr. Wade reading the _Times_
+in the glass-covered veranda of that eligible suburban mansion. It
+being a Saturday, the great banker was taking a holiday, and Cornish
+had arranged not to return to town until midday.
+
+“Come here,” shouted Mr. Wade, “and have a cigar while you read the
+paper.”
+
+“And remember,” added Marguerite, slim and girlish in her riding-habit;
+“choke him off!”
+
+She stood on the door-step, looking over her shoulder, and nodded at
+Cornish, her fresh lips tilted at the corner by a smile full of gaiety
+and mysticism.
+
+“Read that,” said Mr. Wade, gravely.
+
+But Mr. Wade was always grave--was clad in gravity and a frock-coat all
+his waking moments--and Cornish took up the newspaper carelessly. He
+stretched out his legs and lighted a cigar. Then he leisurely turned to
+the column indicated by his companion. It was headed, “Crisis in the
+Paper Trade: the Malgamite Corner.”
+
+And Tony Cornish did not raise his eyes from the printed sheet for a
+full ten minutes. When at length he looked up, he found Mr. Wade
+watching him, placid and patient.
+
+“Can't make head or tail of it,” he said, with a laugh.
+
+“I will make both head and tail of it for you,” said Mr. Wade, who in
+his own world had a certain reputation for plain speaking.
+
+It was even said that this stout banker could tell a man to his face
+that he was a scoundrel with a cooler nerve than any in Lombard Street.
+
+“What has occurred,” he said, slowly folding the advertisement sheet of
+the _Times_, “is only what has been foreseen for a long time. The world
+has been degenerating into a maudlin state of sentiment for some years.
+The East End began it; a thousand sentimental charities have fostered
+the movement. Now, I am a plain man--a City man, Tony, to the tips of
+my toes.” And he stuck out a large square-toed foot and looked
+contemplatively at it. “Half of your precious charities--the societies
+that you and Joan Ferriby, and, if you will allow me to say so, that
+ass Ferriby, are mixed up in--are not fraudulent, but they are pretty
+near it. Some people who have no right to it are putting other people's
+money into their pockets. It is the money of fools--a fool and his
+money are soon parted, you know--but that does not make matters any
+better. The fools do not always part with their money for the right
+reason; but that also is of small importance. It is not our business if
+some of them do it because they like to see their names printed under
+the names of the royal and the great--if others do it for the mere
+satisfaction of being life--governors of this and that institution--if
+others, again, head the county lists because they represent a part of
+that county in Parliament--if the large majority give of their surplus
+to charities because they are dimly aware that they are no better than
+they should be, and wish to take shares in a concern that will pay a
+dividend in the hereafter. They know that they cannot take their money
+out of this world with them, so they think they had better invest some
+of it in what they vaguely understand to be a great limited company,
+with the bishops on the board and--I say it with all reverence--the
+Almighty in the chair. I would not say this to the first-comer because
+it would not be well received, and it is not fashionable to treat
+Charity from a common-sense point of view. It is fashionable to send a
+cheque to this and that charity--feeling that it is charity, and
+therefore will be all right, and that the cheque will be duly placed on
+the credit side of the drawer's account in the heavenly books, however
+it may be foolishly spent or fraudulently appropriated by the payee on
+earth. Half a dozen of the fashionable charities are rotten, but we
+have not had a thorough-going swindle up to this time. We have been
+waiting for it ... in Lombard Street. It is there....”
+
+He paused, and tapped the printed column of the _Times_ with a fat and
+inexorable forefinger. He was, it must be remembered, a mere banker--a
+person in the City, where honesty is esteemed above the finer qualities
+of charity and beneficence, where soul and sentiment are so little
+known that he who of his charity giveth away another's money is held
+accountable for his manner of spending it.
+
+“It is there, ... and you have the honour of being mixed up in it,”
+ said Mr. Wade.
+
+Cornish took up the paper, and looked at the printed words with a vague
+surprise.
+
+“There is no knowing,” went on the banker, “how the world will take it.
+It is one of our greatest financial difficulties that there is never
+any knowing how the world will take anything. Of course, we in the City
+are plain-going men, who have no handles to our names and no time for
+the fashionable fads. We are only respectable, and we cannot afford to
+be mixed up in such a scheme as your malgamite business.” Mr. Wade
+glanced at Cornish and paused a moment. He was a stolid Englishman, who
+had received punishment in his time, and could hit hard when he deemed
+that hard hitting was merciful. “It has only been a question of time.
+The credulity of the public is such that, sooner or later, a bogus
+charity must assuredly have followed in the wake of the thousand bogus
+companies that exist to-day. I only wonder that it has not come sooner.
+You and Ferriby and, of course, the women have been swindled, my dear
+Tony--that is the head and the tail of it.”
+
+Cornish laughed gaily. “I dare say we have,” he admitted. “But I will
+be hanged if I see what it all means, now.”
+
+“It may mean ruin to those who have anything to lose,” explained Mr.
+Wade, calmly. “The whole thing has been cleverly planned--one of the
+cleverest things of recent years, and the man who thought it out had
+the makings of a great financier in him. What he wanted to do was to
+get the malgamite industry into his own hands. If he had formed a
+company and gone about it in a straightforward manner, the paper-makers
+of the whole world would have risen like one man and smashed him.
+Instead of that, he moved with the times, and ran the thing as a
+charity--a fashionable amusement, in fact. The malgamite industry is
+neither better nor worse than the other dangerous trades, and no man
+need go into it unless he likes. But the man who started this
+thing--whoever he may be--supplied that picturesqueness without which
+the public cannot be moved--and lo! We have an army of martyrs.”
+
+Mr. Wade paused and jerked the ash from his cigar. He glanced at
+Cornish.
+
+“No one suspected that there was anything wrong. It was plausibly put
+forth, and Ferriby ... did his best for it. Then the money began to
+come in, and once money begins to come in for a popular charity the
+difficulty is to stop it. I suppose it is still coming in?”
+
+“Yes,” said Cornish. “It is still coming in, and nobody is trying to
+stop it.”
+
+Mr. Wade laughed in his throat, as fat men do. “And,” he cried, sitting
+upright and banging his heavy fist down on the arm of his chair--“and
+there are millions in your malgamite works at the Hague--millions. If
+it were only honest it would be the finest monopoly the world has ever
+seen--for two years, but no longer. At the end of that period the
+paper-makers will have had time to combine and make their own
+stuff--then they'll smash you. But during those two years all the
+makers in the world will have to buy your malgamite at the price you
+chose to put upon it. They have their forward contracts to
+fulfil--government contracts, Indian contracts, newspaper contracts.
+Thousands and thousands of tons of paper will have to be manufactured
+at a loss every week during the next two years, or they'll have to shut
+up their mills. Now do you see where you are?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Cornish, “I see where I am, now.”
+
+His face was drawn and his eyes hard, like those of a man facing ruin.
+And that which was written on his face was an old story, so old that
+some may not think it worth the telling; for he had found out (as all
+who are fortunate will, sooner or later, discover) that success or
+failure, riches or poverty, greatness or obscurity, are but small
+things in a man's life. Mr. Wade looked at his companion with a sort of
+wonder in his shrewd old face. He had seen ruined men before now--he
+had seen criminals convicted of their wrong-doing--he had seen old and
+young in adversity, and, what is more dangerous still, in
+prosperity--but he had never seen a young face grow old in the
+twinkling of an eye. The banker was only thinking of this matter as a
+financial crisis, in which his great skill made him take a master's
+delight. There must inevitably come a great crash, and Mr. Wade's
+interest was aroused. Cornish was realizing that the crash would of a
+certainty fall between himself and Dorothy.
+
+“This thing,” continued the banker, judicially, “has not evolved
+itself. It is not the result of a singular chain of circumstances. It
+is the deliberate and careful work of one man's brain. This sort of
+speculative gambling comes to us from America. It was in America that
+the first cotton corner was conceived. That is what the paper means
+when it plainly calls it the malgamite corner. Now, what I want to know
+is this--who has worked this thing?”
+
+“Percy Roden,” answered Cornish, thoughtfully. “It is Roden's corner.”
+
+“Then Roden's a clever fellow,” said the great financier. “The sort of
+man who will die a millionaire or a felon--there is no medium for that
+sort. He has conducted the thing with consummate skill--has not made a
+mistake yet. For I have watched him. He began well, by saying just
+enough and not too much. He went abroad, but not too far abroad. He
+avoided a suspicious remoteness. Then he bided his time with a fine
+patience, and at the right moment converted it quietly into a
+company--with a capital subscribed by the charitable--a splendid piece
+of audacity. I saw the announcement in the newspaper, neatly worded,
+and issued at the precise moment when the public interest was beginning
+to wane, and before the thing was forgotten. People read it, and having
+found a new plaything--bicycles, I suppose--did not care two pins what
+became of the malgamite scheme, and yet they were not left in a
+position to be able to say that they had never heard that the thing had
+been turned into a company.” The banker rubbed his large soft hands
+together with a grim appreciation of this misapplied skill, which so
+few could recognize at its full value.
+
+“But,” he continued, in his deliberate, practical way, as if in the
+course of his experience he had never yet met a difficulty which could
+not be overcome, “it is more our concern to think about the future. The
+difficulty you are in would be bad enough in itself--it is made a
+hundred times worse by the fact that you have a man like Roden, with
+all the trumps in his hand, waiting for you to throw the first card. Of
+course, I know no details yet, but I soon shall. What seems complicated
+to you may appear simple enough to me. I am going to stand by
+you--understand that, Tony. Through thick and thin. But I am going to
+stand behind you. I can hit harder from there. And this is just one of
+those affairs with which my name must not be associated.
+So far as I can judge at present, there seems to be only one course
+open to you, and that is to abandon the whole affair as quietly and
+expeditiously as possible, to drop malgamite and the hope of benefiting
+the malgamite workers once and for all.”
+
+Tony was looking at his watch. It was, it appeared, time for him to go
+if he wanted to catch his train.
+
+“No,” he said, rising; “I will be d----d if I do that.”
+
+Mr. Wade looked at him curiously, as one may look at a sleeper who for
+no apparent reason suddenly wakes and stretches himself.
+
+“Ah!” he said slowly, and that was all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+UNSOUND.
+
+“Be wiser than other people if you can; but do not tell them so.”
+
+
+If Major White was not a man of quick comprehension, he was, at all
+events, honest in his density. He never said that he understood when he
+did not do so. When he received a telegram in barracks at Dover to come
+up to London the next day and meet Cornish at his club at one o'clock,
+the major merely said that he was in a state of condemnation, and
+fixing his glass very carefully into his more surprised eye, studied
+the thin pink paper as if it were a unique and interesting proof of the
+advance of the human race. In truth, Major White never sent telegrams,
+and rarely received them. He blew out his cheeks and said a second time
+that he was damned. Then he threw the telegram into a waste-paper
+basket, which was rarely put to so legitimate a use; for the major
+never wrote letters if he could help it, and received so few that they
+hardly kept him supplied in pipe-lights.
+
+He apparently had no intention of replying to Cornish's telegram,
+arguing very philosophically in his mind that he would go if he could,
+and if he could not, it would not matter very much. A method of
+contemplating life, as a picture with a perspective to it, which may be
+highly recommended to fussy people who herald their paltry little
+comings and goings by a number of unnecessary communications.
+
+Without, therefore, attempting a surmise as to the meaning of this
+summons, White took a morning train to London, and solemnly reported
+himself to the hall porter of a club in St. James's Street as the
+well-dressed throng was leisurely returning from church.
+
+“Mr. Cornish told me to come and have lunch with him,” he said, in his
+usual bald style, leaving explanations and superfluous questions to
+such as had time for luxuries of that description.
+
+He was taken charge of by a button-boy, whose head reached the major's
+lowest waistcoat button, was deprived of his hat and stick, and
+practically commanded to wash his hands, to all of which he submitted
+under stolid and silent protest.
+
+Then he was led upstairs, refusing absolutely to hurry, although urged
+most strongly thereto by the boy's example and manner of pausing a few
+steps higher up and looking back.
+
+“Yes,” said the major, when he had heard Cornish's story across the
+table, and during the consumption of a perfectly astonishing
+luncheon--“yes; half the trouble in this world comes from the
+incapacity of the ordinary human being to mind his own business.” He
+operated on a creaming Camembert cheese with much thoughtfulness, and
+then spoke again. “I should like you to tell me,” he said, “what a
+couple of idiots like us have to do with these confounded malgamiters.
+We do not know anything about industry or workmen--or work, so far as
+that goes”--he paused and looked severely across the table--“especially
+you,” he added.
+
+Which was strictly true; for Tony Cornish was and always had been a
+graceful idler. He was one of those unfortunate men who possess
+influential relatives, than which there are few heavier handicaps in
+that game of life, where if there be any real scoring to be done, it
+must be compassed off one's own bat. To follow out the same inexpensive
+simile, influential relatives may get a man into a crack club, but they
+cannot elect him to the first eleven. So Tony Cornish, who had never
+done anything, but had waited vaguely for something to turn up that
+might be worth his while to seize, had no answer ready, and only
+laughed gaily in his friend's face.
+
+“The first thing we must do,” he said, very wisely leaving the past to
+take care of itself, “is to get old Ferriby out of it.”
+
+“'Cos he is a lord?”
+
+“Partly.”
+
+“'Cos he is an ass?” suggested White, as a plausible alternative.
+
+“Partly; but chiefly because he is not the sort of man we want if there
+is going to be a fight.”
+
+A momentary light gleamed in the major's eye, but it immediately gave
+place to a placid interest in the Camembert.
+
+“If there is going to be a fight,” he said, “I'm on.”
+
+In which trivial remark the major explained his whole life and mental
+attitude. And if the world only listened, instead of thinking what
+effect it is creating and what it is going to say next, it would catch
+men thus giving themselves away in their daily talk from morning till
+night. For Major White had always been “on” when there was fighting. By
+dint of exchanging and volunteering and asking, and generally bothering
+people in a thick-skinned, dull way, he always managed to get to the
+front, where his competitors--the handful of modern knights-errant who
+mean to make a career in the army, and inevitably succeed--were not
+afraid of him, and laughingly liked him. And the barrack-room
+balladists had discovered that White rhymes with Fight. And lo! Another
+man had made a name for himself in a world that is already too full of
+names, so that in the paths of Fame the great must necessarily fall
+against each other.
+
+After luncheon, in the smaller smoking-room, where they were alone,
+Cornish explained the situation at greater length to Major White, who
+did not even pretend to understand it.
+
+“All I can make of it is that that loose-shouldered chap Roden is a
+scoundrel,” he said bluntly, from behind a great cigar, “and wants
+thumping. Now, if there's anything in that line--”
+
+“No; but you must not tell him so,” interrupted Cornish. “I wish to
+goodness I could make you understand that cunning can only be met by
+cunning, not by thumps, in these degenerate days. Old Wade has taken us
+by the hand, as I tell you. They come to town, by the way, to-morrow,
+and will be in Eaton Square for the rest of the season. He says that it
+is his business to meet the low cunning of the small solicitors and the
+noble army of company promoters, and it seems that he knows exactly
+what to do. At any rate, it is not expedient to thump Roden.”
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders with much silent wisdom. He
+believed, it appeared, in thumps in face of any evidence in favour of
+milder methods.
+
+“Deuced sorry for that girl,” he said.
+
+Cornish was lighting a cigarette. “What girl?” he asked quietly.
+
+“Miss Roden, chap's sister. She knows her brother is a dark horse, but
+she wouldn't admit it, not if you were to kill her for it. Women”--the
+major paused in his great wisdom--“women are a rum lot.”
+
+Which, assuredly, no one is prepared to deny.
+
+Cornish glanced at his companion through the cigarette smoke, and said
+nothing.
+
+“However,” continued the major, “I am at your service. Let us have the
+orders.”
+
+“To-morrow,” answered Cornish, “is Monday, and therefore the Ferribys
+will be at home. You and I are to go to Cambridge Terrace about four
+o'clock to see my uncle. We will scare him out of the Malgamite
+business. Then we will go upstairs and settle matters with Joan. Wade
+and Marguerite will drop in about half-past four. Joan and Marguerite
+see a good deal of each other, you know. If we have any difficulty with
+my uncle, Wade will give him the _coup de grâce_, you understand. His
+word will have more weight than ours We shall then settle on a plan of
+campaign, and clear out of my aunt's drawing-room before the crowd
+comes.”
+
+“And you will do the talking,” stipulated Major White.
+
+“Oh yes; I will do the talking. And now I must be off. I have a lot of
+calls to pay, and it is getting late. You will find me here to-morrow
+afternoon at a quarter to four.”
+
+Whereupon Major White took his departure, to appear again the next day
+in good time, placid and debonair--as he had appeared when called upon
+in various parts of the world, where things were stirring.
+
+They took a hansom, for the afternoon was showery, and drove through
+the crowded streets. Even Cambridge Terrace, usually a quiet
+thoroughfare, was astir with traffic, for it was the height of the
+season and a levee day. As the cab swung round into Cambridge Terrace,
+White suddenly pushed his stick up through the trap-door in the roof of
+the vehicle.
+
+“Ninety-nine,” he shouted to the driver in his great voice. “Not nine.”
+
+Then he threw himself back against the dingy blue cushions.
+
+Cornish turned and looked at him in surprise. “Gone off your head?” he
+inquired. “It is nine--you know that well enough.”
+
+“Yes,” answered White, “I know that, my good soul; but you could not
+see the door as I could when we came round the corner. Roden and Von
+Holzen are on the steps, coming out.”
+
+“Roden and Von Holzen in England?”
+
+
+“Not only in England,” said White, placidly, “but in Cambridge Terrace.
+And “--he paused, seeking a suitable remark among his small selection
+of conversational remnants--“and the fat is in the fire.”
+
+The cab had now stopped at the door of number ninety-nine. And if Roden
+or Von Holzen, walking leisurely down Cambridge Terrace, had turned
+during the next few moments, they would have seen a stationary hansom
+cab, with a large round face--mildly surprised, like a pink harvest
+moon--rising cautiously over the roof of it, watching them.
+
+When the coast was clear, Cornish and White walked back to number nine.
+Lord Ferriby was at home, and they were ushered into his study, an
+apartment which, like many other things appertaining to his lordship,
+was calculated to convey an erroneous impression. There were books upon
+the tables--the lives of great and good men. Pamphlets relating to
+charitable matters, missionary matters, and a thousand schemes for the
+amelioration of the human lot here and hereafter, lay about in
+profusion. This was obviously the den of a great philanthropist.
+
+His lordship presently appeared, carrying a number of voting papers,
+which he threw carelessly on the table. He was, it seemed, a subscriber
+to many institutions for the blind, the maimed, and the halt.
+
+“Ah!” he said, “I generally get through my work in the morning, but I
+find myself behindhand to-day. It is wonderful,” he added, directing
+his conversation and his benevolent gaze towards White, “how busy an
+idle man may be.”
+
+
+
+“M--m--yes!” answered the major, with his stolid stare.
+
+Cornish broke what threatened to be an awkward silence by referring at
+once to the subject in hand.
+
+“It seems,” he began, “that this Malgamite scheme is not what we took
+it to be.”
+
+Lord Ferriby looked surprised and slightly scandalized. Could it be
+possible for a fashionable charity to be anything but what it appeared
+to be? In his eyes, wandering from one face to the other, there lurked
+the question as to whether they had seen Roden and Von Holzen quit his
+door a minute earlier. But no reference was made to those two
+gentlemen, and Lord Ferriby, who, as a chairman of many boards, was a
+master of the art of conciliation and the decent closing of both eyes
+to unsightly facts, received Cornish's suggestion with a polite and
+avuncular pooh-pooh.
+
+“We must not,” he said soothingly, “allow our judgment to be hastily
+affected by the ill-considered statements of the--er--newspapers. Such
+statements, my dear Anthony--and you, Major White--are, I may tell you,
+only what we, as the pioneers of a great movement, must be prepared to
+expect. I saw the article in the _Times_ to which you refer--indeed, I
+read it most carefully, as, in my capacity of chairman of
+this--eh--char--that is to say, company, I was called upon to do. And I
+formed the opinion that the mind of the writer was--eh--warped.” Lord
+Ferriby smiled sadly, and gave a final wave of the hand, as if to
+indicate that the whole matter lay in a nutshell, and that nutshell
+under his lordship's heel. “Warped or not,” answered Cornish, “the man
+says that we have formed ourselves into a company, which company is
+bound to make huge profits, and those profits are naturally assumed to
+find their way into our pockets.”
+
+“My dear Anthony,” replied the chairman, with a laugh which was almost
+a cackle, “the labourer is worthy of his hire.”
+
+Which seems likely to become the _dernier cri_ of the overpaid
+throughout all the ages.
+
+“Even if we contradict the statement,” pursued Cornish, with a sudden
+coldness in his manner, “the contradiction will probably fail to reach
+many of the readers of this article, and as matters at present stand,
+I do not see that we are in a position to contradict.”
+
+“My dear Anthony,” answered Lord Ferriby, turning over his papers with
+a preoccupied air, as if the question under discussion only called for
+a small share of his attention--“my dear Anthony, the money was
+subscribed for the amelioration of the lot of the malgamite workers. We
+have not only ameliorated their lot, but we have elevated them morally
+and physically. We have far exceeded our promises, and the subscribers,
+ who, after all, take a small interest in the matter, have every reason
+to be satisfied that their money has been applied to the purpose for
+which they intended it. They were kind enough to intrust us with the
+financial arrangements. The concern is a private one, and it is the
+business of no one--not even of the _Times_--to inquire into the method
+which we think well to adopt for the administration of the Malgamite
+Fund. If the subscribers had no confidence in us, they surely would not
+have given the management unreservedly into our hands.” Lord Ferriby
+spread out the limbs in question with an easy laugh. Has not a greater
+than any of us said that a man “may smile, and smile, and be a
+villain”? A silence followed, which was almost, but not quite, broken
+by the major, who took his glass from his eye, examined it very
+carefully, as if wondering how it had been made, and, replacing it with
+a deep sigh, sat staring at the opposite wall.
+
+“Then you are not disposed to withdraw your name from the concern?”
+ asked Cornish.
+
+“Most certainly not, my dear Anthony. What have the malgamiters done
+that I should, so to speak, abandon them at the first difficulty which
+has presented itself?”
+
+“And what about the profits?” inquired Cornish, bluntly.
+
+“Mr. Roden is our paid secretary. He understands the financial
+situation, which is rather a complicated one. We may, I think, leave
+such details to him. And if I may suggest it (I may perhaps rightly lay
+claim to a somewhat larger experience in charitable finances than
+either of you), I should recommend a strict reticence on this matter.
+We are not called upon to answer idle questions, I think. And
+if--well--if the labourer is found worthy of his hire ... buy yourself
+a new hat, my dear Anthony. Buy yourself a new hat.”
+
+Cornish rose, and looked at his watch. “I wonder if Joan will give us a
+cup of tea,” he said. “We might, at all events, go up and try.”
+
+“Certainly--certainly. And I will follow when I have finished my work.
+And do not give the matter another thought--either of you--eh!”
+
+“He's been got at,” said Major White to his companion as they walked
+upstairs together, as if Lord Ferriby were a jockey or some common
+person of that sort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+“Il est rare que la tête des rois soit faite à la mesure de leur
+couronne.”
+
+
+“What I want is something to eat,” Miss Marguerite Wade confided in an
+undertone to Tony Cornish, a few minutes later in Lady Ferriby's
+drawing-room. She said this with a little glance of amusement, as
+Cornish stood before her with two plates of biscuits, which certainly
+did not promise much sustenance.
+
+“Then,” answered Cornish, “you have come to the wrong house.”
+
+Marguerite kept him waiting while she arranged biscuits in her saucer.
+He set the plates aside, and returned to her in answer to her tacit
+order, conveyed by laying one hand on a vacant chair by her side.
+Marguerite was in the midst of that brief period of a woman's life
+wherein she dares to state quite clearly what she wants.
+
+“Why don't you marry Joan?” she asked, eating a biscuit with a fine
+young optimism, which almost implied that things sometimes taste as
+nice as they look.
+
+“Why don't you marry Major White?” retorted Tony; and Marguerite turned
+and looked at him gravely.
+
+“For a man,” she said, “that wasn't so dusty. So few men have any eyes
+in their head, you know.” And she thoughtfully finished the biscuits.
+“I think I'll go back to the bread-and-butter,” she said. “It's the
+last time Lady Ferriby will ask me to stay to tea, so I may as well be
+hanged for--three pence as three farthings. And I think I will be more
+careful with you in the future. For a man, you are rather sharp.” And
+she looked at him doubtfully.
+
+“When you attain my age,” replied Tony, “you will have arrived at the
+conclusion that the whole world is sharper than one took it to be. It
+does not do to think that the world is blind. It is better not to care
+whether it sees or not.”
+
+“Women cannot afford to do that,” returned Marguerite, with the
+accumulated wisdom of nearly a score of years. “Oh, hang!” she added, a
+moment later, under her breath, as she perceived Joan and Major White
+coming towards them.
+
+“I have a letter for you,” said Joan, “enclosed in one I received this
+morning from Mrs. Vansittart at The Hague. She is not coming to the
+Harberdashers' Assistants' Ball, and this is, I suppose, in answer to
+the card you sent her. She explains that she did not know your
+address.” And Joan looked at him with a doubting glance for a moment.
+
+Cornish took the letter, but did not ask permission to open it. He held
+it in his hand, and asked Joan a question. “Did you see Saturday's
+Times?”
+
+“Yes, of course I did,” she answered earnestly; “and of course, if it
+is true you will all wash your hands of the whole affair, I suppose. I
+was talking to Mr. Wade about it. He, however, placed both sides of the
+question before me in about ten words, and left me to take my
+choice--which I am incompetent to do.”
+
+“Papa doesn't understand women,” put in Marguerite.
+
+“Understands money, though,” retorted Major White, looking at her in
+somewhat severe astonishment, as if he had hitherto been unaware that
+she could speak.
+
+Marguerite took the rebuff with demurely closed lips, a probable
+indication that the only retort she could think of was hardly fit for
+enunciation.
+
+Then Cornish drifted out of the conversation, and presently moved away
+to the window, where he took the opportunity of opening Mrs.
+Vansittart's letter. Mr. Wade, near at hand, was explaining
+good-naturedly to Lady Ferriby that, with the best will in the world,
+five per cent, and perfect safety are not to be obtained nowadays.
+
+“MON AMI” (wrote Mrs. Vansittart in French), “I take a daily promenade
+after coffee in the Oude Weg. I sit on the bench where you sat, and
+more often than not I see the sight that you saw. I am not a
+sentimental woman, but, after all, one has a heart, and this is a
+pitiful affair. Also, I have obtained from a reliable source the
+information that the new system of manufacture is more deadly than the
+old, which I have long suspected, and which, I believe, has passed
+through your mind as well. You and I went into this thing without _le
+bon motif_; but Providence is dealing out fresh hands, and you, at all
+events, hold cards that call for careful and bold playing. My friend,
+throw your Haberdashers over the wall and act without delay.”
+
+
+“E. V.”
+
+She enclosed a formal refusal of the invitation to the Haberdashers'
+Assistants' Ball.
+
+Major White was not a talkative man, and towards Joan in particular his
+attitude was one of silent wonder. In preference to talking to her, he
+preferred to stand a little way off and look at her. And if, at these
+moments, the keen observer could detect any glimmer of expression on
+his face, that glimmer seemed to express abject abasement before a
+creation that could produce anything so puzzling, so interesting, so
+absolutely beautiful--as Joan.
+
+Cornish, seeing White engaged in his favourite pastime, took him by the
+arm and led him to the window.
+
+“Read that,” he said, “and then burn it.”
+
+“Of course,” Joan was saying to Marguerite, as he joined them, “there
+are, as your father says, two sides to the question. If papa and Tony
+and Major White withdraw their names and abandon the poor malgamiters
+now, there will be no help for the miserable wretches. They will all
+drift back to the cheaper and more poisonous way of making malgamite.
+And such a thing would be a blot upon our civilization--wouldn't it,
+Tony?”
+
+Marguerite nodded an airy acquiescence. She was watching Major
+White--that great strategist--tear up Mrs. Vansittart's letter and
+throw it into the fire, with a deliberate non-concealment which was
+perhaps superior to any subterfuge. The major joined the group.
+
+
+“That is the view that I take of it,” answered Tony.
+
+“And what do you say?” asked Joan, turning upon the major.
+
+“I? Oh, nothing!” replied that soldier, with perfect truthfulness.
+
+“Then what are you going to do?” asked Joan, who was practical, and,
+like many practical people, rather given to hasty action.
+
+“We are going to stick to the malgamiters,” replied Tony, quietly.
+
+“Through thick and thin?” inquired Marguerite, buttoning her glove.
+
+“Yes--through thick and thin.”
+
+Both girls looked at Major White, who stolidly returned their gaze, and
+appeared as usual to have no remark to offer. He was saved, indeed,
+from all effort in that direction by the advent of Lord Ferriby, who
+entered the room with more than his usual importance. He carried an
+open letter in his hand, and seemed by his manner to demand the instant
+attention of the whole party. There are some men and a few women who
+live for the multitude, and are not content with the attention of one
+or two persons only. And surely these have their reward, for the
+attention of the multitude, however pleasant it may be while it lasts,
+is singularly short-lived, and there is nothing more pitiful to watch
+than the effort to catch it when it has wandered.
+
+“Eh--er,” began his lordship, and everybody paused to listen. “I have
+here a letter from our clerk at the Malgamite office in Great
+George Street. It appears that there are a number of persons
+there--paper-makers, I understand--who insist upon seeing us, and
+refuse to leave the premises until they have done so.”
+
+Lord Ferriby's manner indicated quite clearly his pity for these
+persons who had proved themselves capable of such a shocking breach of
+good manners.
+
+“One hardly knows what to do,” he said, not meaning, of course, that
+his words should be taken _au pied de la lettre_. His hearers, he
+obviously felt assured, knew him better than to imagine that he was
+really at a loss. “It is difficult to deal with--er--persons of this
+description. What do you propose that we should do?” he inquired,
+turning, as if by instinct, to Cornish.
+
+“Go and see them,” was the reply.
+
+“But, my dear Anthony, such a crisis should be dealt with by Mr. Roden,
+whom one may regard as our--er--financial adviser.”
+
+“But as Roden is not here, we must do without his assistance. Perhaps
+Mr. Wade would consent to act as our financial adviser on this
+occasion,” suggested Cornish.
+
+“I'll go with you,” replied the banker, “and hear what they have to
+say, if you like. But of course I can take no part in anything in the
+nature of a controversy, and my name must not be mentioned.”
+
+“Incognito,” suggested Lord Ferriby, with a forced laugh.
+
+“Yes--incognito,” returned the banker, gravely.
+
+The major attracted general attention to himself by murmuring something
+inaudible, which he was urged to repeat.
+
+“Doocid decent of Mr. Wade,” he said, a second time.
+
+And that seemed to settle the matter, for they all moved towards the
+door.
+
+“Leave the carriage for me,” cried Marguerite over the banisters, as
+her father descended the stairs. “Seems to me,” she added to Joan in an
+undertone, “that the Malgamite scheme is up a gum-tree.”
+
+At the little office of the Malgamite Fund the directors of that
+charity found four gentlemen seated upon the chairs usually grouped
+round the table where the ball committee or the bazaar sub-committees
+held their sittings. One, who appeared to be what Lord Ferriby
+afterwards described, more in sorrow than in anger, as the ringleader,
+was a red-haired, brown-bearded Scotchman, with square shoulders and
+his head set thereon in a manner indicative of advanced radical
+opinions. The second in authority was a mild-mannered man with a pale
+face and a drooping sparse moustache. He had a gentle eye, and lips for
+ever parting in a mildly argumentative manner. The other two
+paper-makers appeared to be foreigners. “Ah'm thinking----” began the
+mild man in a long drawl; but he was promptly overpowered by his
+fellow-countryman, who nodded curtly to Mr. Wade, and said--“Lord
+Ferriby?”
+
+“No,” answered the banker, calmly.
+
+“That is my name,” said the chairman of the Malgamite Fund, with his
+finger in his watch-chain.
+
+The russet gentleman looked at him with a fierce blue eye.
+
+“Then, sir,” he said, “we'll come to business. For it's on business
+that we've come. My friend Mr. MacHewlett, is, like myself, in charge
+of one of the biggest mills in the country; here's Mossier Delmont of
+the great mill at Clermont-Ferrand, and Mr. Meyer from Germany. My own
+name's a plain one--like myself--but an honest one; it's John Thompson.”
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed, and Major White looked at John Thompson with a
+placid interest, as if he felt glad of this opportunity of meeting one
+of the Thompson family.
+
+“And we've come to ask you to be so good as to explain your position as
+regards malgamite. What are ye, anyway?”
+
+“My dear sir,” began Lord Ferriby, with one hand upraised in mild
+expostulation, “let us be a little more conciliatory in our manner. We
+are, I am sure (I speak for myself and my fellow-directors, whom you
+see before you), most desirous of avoiding any unpleasantness, and we
+are ready to give you all the information in our power, when”--he
+paused, and waved a graceful hand--“when you have proved your right to
+demand such information.”
+
+“Our right is that of representatives of a great trade. We four men,
+that have been deputed to see you on the matter, have at our backs no
+less than eight thousand employees--honest, hard-workin' men, whose
+bread you are taking out of their mouths. We are not afraid of the
+ordinary vicissitudes of commerce. If ye had quietly worked this
+monopoly in fair competition, we should have known how to meet ye. But
+ye come before the world as philanthropists, and ye work a great
+monopoly under the guise of doin' a good work. It was a dirty thing to
+do.”
+
+Lord Ferriby shrugged his shoulders. “My dear sir,” he said, “you fail
+to grasp the situation. We have given our time and attention to the
+grievances of these poor men, whose lot it has been our earnest
+endeavour to ameliorate. You are speaking, my dear sir, to men who
+represent, not eight thousand employes, but who represent something
+greater than they, namely, charity.”
+
+“Ah'm thinking!” began Mr. MacHewlett, plaintively, and the very
+richness of his accents secured a breathless attention. “Damn charity,”
+ he concluded, abruptly.
+
+And Major White looked upon him in solid approval, as upon a
+plain-spoken man after his own heart.
+
+“And we,” said Mr. Thompson, “represent commerce, which was in the
+world before charity, and will be there after it, if charity is going
+to be handled by such as you.”
+
+There was, it appeared, no possibility of pacifying these irate
+paper-makers, whose plainness of speech was positively painful to ears
+so polite as those of Lord Ferriby. A Scotchman, hard hit in his
+tenderest spot, namely, the pocket, is not a person to mince words, and
+Lord Ferriby was for the moment silenced by the stormy attack of Mr.
+Thompson, and the sly, plaintive hits of his companion. But the
+chairman of the Malgamite Fund would not give way, and only repeated
+his assurances of a desire to conciliate, which desire took the form
+only of words, and must, therefore, have been doubly annoying to angry
+men. To him who wants war there is nothing more insulting than feeble
+offers of peace. Major White expressed his readiness to fight Messrs.
+Thompson and MacHewlett at one and the same time on the landing, but
+this suggestion was not well received.
+
+Upon two of the listeners no word was lost, and Mr. Wade and Cornish
+knew that the paper-makers had right upon their side.
+
+Quite suddenly Mr. Thompson's manner changed, and he glanced towards
+the door to see that it was closed.
+
+“Then it's a matter of paying,” he said to his companions. Turning
+towards Lord Ferriby, he spoke in a voice that sounded more
+contemptuous than angry. “We're plain business men,” he said. “What's
+your price--you and these other gentlemen?”
+
+“I have no price,” answered Cornish, meeting the angry blue eyes and
+speaking for the first time.
+
+“And mine is too high--for plain business men,” added Major White, with
+a slow smile.
+
+“Seeing that you're a lord,” said Thompson, addressing the chairman
+again, “I suppose it's a matter of thousands. Name your figure, and be
+done with it.”
+
+Lord Ferriby took the insult in quite a different spirit to that
+displayed by his two co-directors. He was pale with anger, and
+spluttered rather incoherently. Then he took up his hat and stick and
+walked with much dignity to the door.
+
+He was followed down the stairs by the paper-makers, Mr. Thompson
+making use of language that was decidedly bespattered with “winged
+words,” while Mr. MacHewlett detailed his own thoughts in a plaintive
+monotone. Lord Ferriby got rather hastily into a hansom and drove away.
+
+“There is nothing for it,” said Mr. Wade to Cornish in the gay little
+office above the Ladies' Tea Association--“there is nothing for it
+but to run Roden's Corner yourself.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+DANGER.
+
+“The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.”
+
+
+Percy Roden was possessed of that love of horses which, like sentiment,
+crops up in strange places. He had never been able to indulge this
+taste beyond the doubtful capacities of the livery-stable. He found,
+however, that at the Hague he could hire a good saddle-horse, which
+discovery was made with suspicious haste after learning the fact that
+Mrs. Vansittart occasionally indulged in the exercise that his soul
+loved.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart said that she rode because one has to take exercise,
+and riding is the laziest method of fulfilling one's obligations in
+this respect.
+
+“I don't like horsy women,” she said; “and I cannot understand how my
+sex has been foolish enough to believe that any woman looks her best,
+or, indeed, anything but her worst, in the saddle.”
+
+There is a period in the lives of most men when they are desirous of
+extending their knowledge of the surrounding country on horseback, on a
+bicycle, on foot, or even on their hands and knees, if such journeys
+might be accomplished in the company of a certain person. Percy Roden
+was at this period, and he soon discovered that there are tulip farms
+in the neighbourhood of The Hague. A tulip farm may serve its purpose
+as well as ever did a ruin or a waterfall in more picturesque countries
+than Holland; for, indeed, during the last weeks in April and the early
+half of May, these fields of waving yellow, pink, and red are worth
+traveling many miles to see. As for Mrs. Vansittart, it may be said of
+her, as of the rest of her sex under similar circumstances, that it
+suited her purpose to say that she would like nothing better than to
+visit the tulip farms.
+
+Roden's suggestion included breakfast at the Villa des Dunes, whither
+Mrs. Vansittart drove in her habit, while her saddle-horse was to
+follow later. Dorothy welcomed her readily enough, with, however, a
+reserve at the back of her grey eyes. A woman is, it appears, ready to
+forgive much if love may be held out as an excuse, but Dorothy did not
+believe that Mrs. Vansittart had any love for Percy; indeed, she
+shrewdly suspected that all that part of this woman's life belonged to
+the past, and would remain there until the end of her existence. There
+are few things more astonishing to the close observer of human nature
+than the accuracy and rapidity with which one woman will sum up
+another.
+
+“You are not in your habit,” said Mrs. Vansittart, seating herself at
+the breakfast-table. “You are not to be of the party?”
+
+“No,” answered Dorothy. “I have never had the opportunity or the
+inclination to ride.”
+
+“Ah, I know,” laughed the elder woman. “Horses are old-fashioned, and
+only dowagers drive in a barouche to-day. I suppose you ride a bicycle,
+or would do so in any country but Holland, where the roads make that
+craze a madness. I must be content with my old-fashioned horse. If, in
+moving with the times, one's movements are apt to be awkward, it is
+better to be left behind, is it not, Mr. Roden?”
+
+Roden's glance expressed what he did not care to say in the presence of
+a third person. When a woman, whose every movement is graceful, speaks
+of awkwardness, she assuredly knows her ground.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, moreover, showed clearly enough that she was on the
+safe side of forty by quite a number of years when it came to settling
+herself in the saddle and sitting her fresh young horse.
+
+“Which way?” she inquired when they reached the canal.
+
+“Not that way, at all events,” answered Roden, for his companion had
+turned her horse's head toward the malgamite works.
+
+He spoke with a laugh that was not pleasant to the ears, and a shadow
+passed through Mrs. Vansittart's dark eyes. She glanced across the
+yellow sand hills, where the works were effectually concealed by the
+rise and fall of the wind-swept land, from whence came no sign of human
+life, and only at times, when the north wind blew, a faint and not
+unpleasant odour like the smell of sealing-wax. For all that the world
+knew of the malgamite workers, they might have been a colony of lepers.
+“You speak,” said Mrs. Vansittart, “as if you were a failure instead of
+a brilliant success. I think”--she paused for a moment, as if the
+thought were a real one and not a mere conversational convenience, as
+are the thoughts of most people--“that the cream of social life
+consists of the cheery failures.”
+
+“I have no faith in my own luck,” answered Percy Roden, gloomily, whose
+world was a narrow one, consisting as it did of himself and his
+bank-book. Moreover, most men draw aside readily enough the curtain
+that should hide the world in which they live, whereas women take their
+stand before their curtain and talk, and talk--of other things.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had never for a moment been mistaken in her estimate of
+her companion, of--as he considered himself--her lover. She had
+absolutely nothing in common with him. She was a physically lazy, but a
+mentally active woman, whose thoughts ran to abstract matters so
+persistently that they brought her to the verge of abstraction itself.
+
+Percy Roden, on the other hand, would, with better health, have been an
+athlete. In his youth he had overtaxed his strength on the football
+field. When he took up a newspaper now he read the money column first
+and the sporting items next.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart glanced at neither of these, and as often as not
+contented herself with the advertisements of new books, passing idly
+over the news of the world with a heedless eye. She, at all events,
+avoided the mistake, common to men and women of a journalistic
+generation, of allowing themselves to be vastly perturbed over events
+in far countries, which can in no way affect their lives.
+
+Roden, on the other hand, took a certain broad interest in the progress
+of the world, but only watched the daily procession of events with the
+discriminating eye of a business man. He kept his eye, in a word, on
+the main chance, as on a small golden thread woven in the grey tissue
+of the world's history.
+
+It was easy enough to make him talk of himself and of the Malgamite
+scheme.
+
+“And you must admit that you are a success, you know,” said Mrs.
+Vansittart. “I see your quiet grey carts, full of little square boxes,
+passing up Park Straat to the railway station in a procession every
+day.”
+
+“Yes,” admitted Roden. “We are doing a large business.”
+
+He was willing to allow Mrs. Vansittart to suppose that he was a rich
+man, for he was shrewd enough to know that the affections, like all
+else in this world, are purchasable.
+
+“And there is no reason,” suggested Mrs. Vansittart, “why you should
+not go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
+malgamite is an absolute secret.”
+
+“Absolute.”
+
+“And the process is preserved in your memory only?” asked the lady,
+with a little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity
+of wiser men than Percy Roden.
+
+“Not in my memory,” he answered. “It is very long and technical, and I
+have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
+better one than mine.”
+
+“And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered,
+or something dramatic of that sort--what would happen?”
+
+“Ah,” answered Roden, “we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew,
+in our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys
+of the safe.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed. “It sounds like a romance,” she said. She
+pulled up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. “Look at
+that line of sea,” she said, “on the horizon. What a wonderful blue.”
+
+“It is always dark like that with an east wind,” replied Roden,
+practically. “We like to see it dark.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
+half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
+
+“Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,”
+ he explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
+
+“You think of everything,” she said, without enthusiasm.
+
+“No; I only think of you,” he answered, with a little laugh, which
+indeed was his method of making love.
+
+For fear of Mrs. Vansittart laughing at him, he laughed at love--a very
+common form of cowardice. She smiled and said nothing, thus tacitly
+allowing him, as she had allowed him before, to assume that she was not
+displeased. She knew that in love he was the incarnation of caution,
+and would only venture so far as she encouraged him to come. She had
+him, in a word, thoroughly in hand.
+
+They rode on, talking of other things; and Roden, having sped his
+shaft, seemed relieved in mind, and had plenty to say--about himself. A
+man's interests are himself, and malgamite naturally formed a large
+part of Roden's conversation. Mrs. Vansittart encouraged him with a
+singular persistency to talk of this interesting product.
+
+“It is wonderful,” she said--“quite wonderful.”
+
+“Well, hardly that,” he answered slowly, as if there were something
+more to be said, which he did not say.
+
+“And I do not give so much credit to Herr von Holzen as you suppose,”
+ added Mrs. Vansittart, carelessly. “Some day you will have to fulfil
+your promise of taking me over the works.”
+
+Roden did not answer. He was perhaps wondering when he had made the
+promise to which his companion referred.
+
+“Shall we go home that way?” asked Mrs. Vansittart, whose experience of
+the world had taught her that deliberate and steady daring in social
+matters usually, succeeds. “We might have a splendid gallop along the
+sands at low tide, and then ride up quietly through the dunes. I take a
+certain interest in--well--in your affairs, and you have never even
+allowed me to look at the outside of the malgamite works.”
+
+“Should like to know the extent of your interest,” muttered Roden, with
+his awkward laugh.
+
+“I dare say you would,” replied Mrs. Vansittart, coolly. “But that is
+not the question. Here we are at the cross-roads. Shall we go home by
+the sands and the dunes?”
+
+“If you like,” answered Roden, not too graciously.
+
+According to his lights, he was honestly in love with Mrs. Vansittart,
+but Percy Roden's lights were not brilliant, and his love was not a
+very high form of that little-known passion. It lacked, for instance,
+unselfishness, and love that lacks unselfishness is, at its best, a
+sorry business. He was afraid of ridicule. His vanity would not allow
+him to risk a rebuff. His was that faintness of heart which is all too
+common, and owes its ignoble existence to a sullen vanity. He wanted to
+be sure that Mrs. Vansittart loved him before he betrayed more than a
+half-contemptuous admiration for her. Who knows that he was not dimly
+aware of his own inferiority, and thus feared to venture?
+
+The tide was low, as Mrs. Vansittart had foreseen, and they galloped
+along the hard, flat sands towards Scheveningen, where a few clumsy
+fishing-boats lay stranded. Far out at sea, others plied their trade,
+tacking to and fro over the banks, where the fish congregate.
+The sky was clear, and the deep-coloured sea flashed here and there
+beneath the sun. Objects near and far stood out in the clear air with a
+startling distinctness. It was a fresh May morning, when it is good to
+be alive, and better to be young.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rode a few yards ahead of her companion, with a set
+face and deep calculating eyes. When they came within sight of the tall
+chimney of the pumping-station, it was she who led the way across the
+dunes. “Now,” she suddenly inquired, pulling up, and turning in her
+saddle, “where are your works? It seems that one can never discover
+them.”
+
+
+Roden passed her and took the lead. “I will take you there, since you
+are so anxious to go--if you will tell me why you wish to see the
+works,” he said.
+
+“I should like to know,” she answered, with averted eyes and a slow
+deliberation, “where and how you spend so much of your time.”
+
+“I believe you are jealous of the malgamite works,” he said, with his
+curt laugh.
+
+“Perhaps I am,” she admitted, without meeting his glance; and Roden
+rode ahead, with a gleam of satisfaction in his heavy eyes.
+
+So Mrs. Vansittart found herself within the gates of the malgamite
+works, riding quietly on the silent sand, at the heels of Roden's
+horse.
+
+The workmen's dinner-bell had rung as they approached, and now the
+factories were deserted, while within the cottages the midday meal
+occupied the full attention of the voluntary exiles. For the directors
+had found it necessary, in the interests of all concerned, to bind the
+workers by solemn contract never to leave the precincts of the works
+without permission.
+
+Roden did not speak, but led the way across an open space now filled
+with carts, which were to be loaded during the day in readiness for an
+early despatch on the following morning. Mrs. Vansittart followed
+without asking questions. She was prepared to content herself with a
+very cursory visit.
+
+They had not progressed thirty yards from the entrance gate, which
+Roden had opened with a key attached to his watch-chain, when the door
+of one of the cottages moved, and Von Holzen appeared. He was hatless,
+and came out into the sunshine rather hurriedly.
+
+“Ah, madame,” he said, “you honour us beyond our merits.” And he stood,
+smiling gravely, in front of Mrs. Vansittart's horse.
+
+She surreptitiously touched the animal with her heel, but Von Holzen
+checked its movement by laying his hand on the bridle.
+
+“Alas!” he said, “it happens to be our mixing day, and the factories
+are hermetically closed while the process goes forward. Any other day,
+madame, that your fancy brings you over the dunes, I should be
+delighted--but not to-day. I tell you frankly there is danger. You
+surely would not run into it.” He looked up at her with his searching
+gaze.
+
+“Ah! you think it is easy to frighten me, Herr von Holzen,” she cried,
+with a little laugh.
+
+“No; but I would not for the world that you should unwittingly run any
+risks in this place.”
+
+As he spoke, he led the horse quietly to the gate, and Mrs. Vansittart,
+seeing her helplessness, submitted with a good grace.
+
+Roden made no comment, and followed, not ill pleased, perhaps, at this
+simple solution of his difficulty.
+
+Von Holzen did not refer to the incident until late in the evening,
+when Roden was leaving the works.
+
+“This is too serious a time,” he said, “to let women, or vanity,
+interfere in our plans. You know that the deaths are on the increase.
+Anything in the nature of an inquiry at this time would mean ruin,
+and--perhaps worse. Be careful of that woman. I sometimes think that
+she is fooling you.--But I think,” he added to himself, when the gate
+was closed behind Roden, “that I can fool her.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+“A tous maux, il y a deux remèdes--le temps et le silence.”
+
+
+“They call me Uncle Ben--comprenny?” one man explained very slowly to
+another for the sixth time across a small iron table set out upon the
+pavement.
+
+They were seated in front of the humble Café de l'Europe, which lies
+concealed in an alley that runs between the Keize Straat and the
+lighthouse of Scheveningen. It was quite dark and a lonely reveler at
+the next table seemed to be asleep. The economical proprietor of the
+Café de l'Europe had conceived the idea of constructing a long-shaped
+lantern, not unlike the arm of a railway signal, which should at once
+bear the insignia of his house and afford light to his out-door custom.
+But the idea, like many of the higher flights of the human imagination,
+had only left the public in the dark.
+
+“Yes,” continued the unchallenged speaker, in a voice which may be
+heard issuing from the door of any tavern in England on almost any
+evening of the week--the typical voice of the tavern-talker--“yes,
+they've always called me Uncle Ben. Seems as if they're sort o' fond of
+me. Me has seen many hundreds of 'em come and go. But nothing like
+this. Lord save us!”
+
+His hand fell heavily on the iron table, and he looked round him in
+semi-intoxicated stupefaction. He was in a confidential humour, and
+when a man is in this humour, drunk or sober, he is in a parlous state.
+It was certainly rather unfortunate that Uncle Ben should have in this
+expansive moment no more sympathetic companion than an ancient,
+intoxicated Frenchman, who spoke no word of English.
+
+“What I want to know, Frenchy,” continued the Englishman, in a thick,
+aggrieved voice, “is how long you've been at this trade, and how much
+you know about it--you and the other Frenchy. But there's none of us
+speaks the other's lingo. It is a regular Tower of Babble we are!” And
+Uncle Ben added to his mental confusion a further alcoholic fog.
+“That's why I showed yer the way out of the works over the iron fence
+by the empty casks, and brought yer by the beach to this 'ere house of
+entertainment, and stood yer a bottle of brandy between two of
+us--which is handsome, not bein' my own money, seeing as how the others
+deputed me to do it--me knowing a bit of French, comprenny?” Benjamin,
+like most of his countrymen, considering that if one speaks English in
+a loud, clear voice, and adds “comprenny” rather severely, as
+indicating the intention of standing no nonsense, the previous remarks
+will translate themselves miraculously in the hearer's mind. “You
+comprenny--eh? Yes. Oui.” “Oui,” replied the Frenchman, holding out his
+glass; and Uncle Ben's was that pride which goes with a gift of
+tongues.
+
+He struck a match to light his pipe--one of the wooden, sulphur-headed
+matches supplied by the _café_--and the guest at the next table turned
+in his chair. The match flared up and showed two faces, which he
+studied keenly. Both faces were alike unwashed and deeply furrowed.
+White, straggling beards and whiskers accentuated the redness of the
+eyelids, the dull yellow of the skin. They were hopeless and debased
+faces, with that disquieting resemblance which is perceptible in the
+faces of men of dissimilar features and no kinship, who have for a
+number of years followed a common calling, or suffered a common pain.
+
+These two men were both half blind; they had equally unsteady hands.
+The clothing of both alike, and even their breath, was scented by a not
+unpleasant odour of sealing-wax.
+
+It was quite obvious that not only were they at present half
+intoxicated, but in their soberest moments they could hardly be of a
+high intelligence.
+
+The reveller at the next table, who happened to be Tony Cornish, now
+drew his chair nearer.
+
+“Englishman?” he inquired.
+
+“That's me,” answered Uncle Ben, with commendable pride, “from the top
+of my head to me boots. Not that I've anything to say against
+foreigners.”
+
+“Nor I; but it's pleasant to meet a countryman in a foreign land.”
+ Cornish deliberately brought his chair forward. “Your bottle is empty,”
+ he added; “I'll order another. Friend's a Frenchman, eh?”
+
+“That he is--and doesn't understand his own language either,” answered
+Uncle Ben, in a voice indicating that that lack of comprehension rather
+intensified his friend's Frenchness than otherwise.
+
+The proprietor of the Café de l'Europe now came out in answer to
+Cornish's rap on the iron table, and presently brought a small bottle
+of brandy.
+
+“Yes,” said Cornish, pouring out the spirit, which his companions drank
+in its undiluted state from small tumblers--“yes, I'm glad to meet an
+Englishman. I suppose you are in the works--the Malgamite?”
+
+“I am. And what do you know about malgamite, mister?”
+
+“Well, not much, I am glad to say.”
+
+“There is precious few that knows anything,” said the man, darkly, and
+his eye for a moment sobered into cunning.
+
+“I have heard that it is a very dangerous trade, and if you want to get
+out of it I'm connected with an association in London to provide
+situations for elderly men who are no longer up to their work,” said
+Cornish, carelessly.
+
+“Thank ye, mister; not for me. I'm making my five-pound note a week, I
+am, and each cove that dies off makes the survivors one richer, so to
+speak--survival of the fittest, they call it. So we don't talk much, and
+just pockets the pay.”
+
+“Ah, that is the arrangement, is it?” said Cornish, indifferently.
+“Yes. We've got a clever financier, as they call it, I can tell yer.
+We're a good-goin' concern, we are. Some of us are goin' pretty quick,
+too.”
+
+“Are there many deaths, then?”
+
+“Ah! there you're asking a question,” returned the man, who came of a
+class which has no false shame in refusing a reply.
+
+Cornish looked at the man beneath the dim light of the unsuccessful
+lamp--a piteous specimen of humanity, depraved, besotted, without
+outward sign of a redeeming virtue, although a certain courage must
+have been there--this and such as this stood between him and
+Dorothy Roden. Uncle Ben had known starvation at one time, for
+starvation writes certain lines which even turtle soup may never wipe
+out--lines which any may read and none may forget. Tony Cornish had
+seen them before--on the face of an old dandy coming down the steps of
+a St. James's Street club. The malgamiter had likewise known drink long
+and intimately, and it is no exaggeration to say that he had stood
+cheek by jowl with death nearly all his life.
+
+Such a man was plainly not to be drawn away from five pounds a week.
+
+Cornish turned to the Frenchman--a little, cunning, bullet-headed
+Lyonnais, who would not speak of his craft at all, though he expressed
+every desire to be agreeable to monsieur.
+
+“When one is _en fête_,” he cried, “it is good to drink one's glass or
+two and think no more of work.”
+
+“I knew one or two of your men once,” said Cornish, returning to the
+genial Uncle Ben. “William Martins, I remember, was a decent fellow,
+and had seen a bit of the world. I will come to the works and look him
+up some day.”
+
+“You can look him up, mister, but you won't find him.”
+
+“Ah, has he gone home?”
+
+“He's gone to his long home, that's where he's gone.”
+
+“And his brother, Tom Martins, both London men, like myself?” inquired
+Cornish, without asking that question which Uncle Ben considered such
+exceedingly bad form.
+
+“Tom's dead, too.”
+
+“And there were two Americans, I recollect--I came across from Harwich
+in the same boat with them--Hewlish they were called.”
+
+“Hewlishes has stepped round the corner, too,” admitted Uncle Ben. “Oh
+yes; there's been changes in the works, there's no doubt. And there's
+only one sort o' change in the malgamite trade. Come on, Frenchy,
+time's up.”
+
+The men stood up and bade Cornish good night, each after his own
+manner, and went away steadily enough. It was only their heads that
+were intoxicated, and perhaps the brandy of the Café de l'Europe had
+nothing to do with this.
+
+Cornish followed them, and, in the Keize Straat, he called a cab,
+telling the man to drive to the house at the corner of Oranje Straat
+and Park Straat, occupied by Mrs. Vansittart. That lady, the servant
+said, in reply to his careful inquiry, was at home and alone, and,
+moreover, did not expect visitors. The man was not at all sure that
+madame would receive.
+
+“I will try,” said Cornish, writing two words in German on the corner
+of his visiting-card. “You see,” he continued, noticing a well-trained
+glance, “that I am not dressed, so if other visitors arrive, I would
+rather not be discovered in madame's salon, you understand?”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shook hands with Cornish in silence, her quick eyes
+noted the change in him which the shrewd butler had noticed in the
+entrance-hall. The Cornish of a year earlier would have gone back to
+the hotel to dress.
+
+“I was just going out to the Witte society concert,” said Mrs.
+Vansittart. “I thought the open air and the wood would be pleasant this
+evening. Shall we go or shall we remain?” She stood with her hand on
+the bell looking at him.
+
+“Let us remain here,” he answered.
+
+She rang the bell and countermanded the carriage. Then she sat slowly
+down, moving as under a sort of oppression, as if she foresaw what the
+next few minutes contained, and felt herself on the threshold of one of
+the surprises that Fate springs upon us at odd times, tearing aside the
+veils behind which human hearts have slept through many years. For
+indifference is not the death, but only the sleep of the heart.
+
+“You have just arrived?”
+
+“No; I have been here a week.”
+
+“At The Hague?”
+
+“No,” answered Cornish, with a grave smile; “at a little inn in
+Scheveningen, where no questions are asked.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart nodded her head slowly. “Then, _mon ami_,” she said,
+“the time has come for plain speaking?”
+
+“I suppose so.”
+
+“It is always the woman who wants to get to the plain speaking,” she
+said, with a smile, “and who speaks the plainest when one gets there.
+You men are afraid of so many words; you think them, but you dare not
+make use of them. And how are women to know that you are thinking
+them?” She spoke with a sort of tolerant bitterness, as if all these
+questions no longer interested her personally. She sat forward, with
+one hand on the arm of her chair. “Come,” she said, with a little laugh
+that shook and trembled on the brink of a whole sea of unshed tears, “I
+will speak the first word. When my husband died, my heart broke--and
+it was Otto von Holzen who killed him.” Her eyes flashed suddenly, and
+she threw herself back in the chair. Her hands were trembling.
+
+Cornish made a quick gesture of the hand--a trick he had learnt
+somewhere on the Continent, more eloquent than a hundred words--which
+told of his sympathy and his comprehension of all that she had left
+unsaid. For truly she had told him her whole history in a dozen words.
+
+“I have followed him and watched him ever since,” she went on at
+length, in a quiet voice; “but a woman is so helpless. I suppose if any
+of us were watched and followed as he has been our lives would appear a
+strange mixture of a little good and much bad, mixed with a mass of
+neutral idleness. But surely his life is worse than the rest--not that
+it matters. Whatever his life had been, if he had been a living saint,
+Tony, he would have had to pay--for what he has done to me.”
+
+She looked steadily into the keen face that was watching hers. She was
+not in the least melodramatic, and what was stranger, perhaps, she was
+not ashamed. According to her lights, she was a good woman, who went to
+church regularly, and did a little conventional good with her
+superfluous wealth. She obeyed the unwritten laws of society, and
+busied herself little in her neighbours' affairs. She was kind to her
+servants, and did not hate her neighbours more than is necessary in a
+crowded world. She led a blameless, unoccupied, and apparently
+purposeless life. And now she quietly told Tony Cornish that her life
+was not purposeless, but had for its aim the desire of an eye for an
+eye and a life for a life.
+
+“You remember my husband,” continued Mrs. Vansittart, after a pause.
+“He was always absorbed in his researches. He made a great discovery,
+and confided in Otto von Holzen, who thought that he could make a
+fortune out of it. But Von Holzen cheated and was caught. There was a
+great trial, and Von Holzen succeeded in incriminating my husband, who
+was innocent, instead of himself. The company, of course, failed, which
+meant ruin and dishonour. In a fit of despair my husband shot himself.
+And afterwards it transpired that by shooting himself at that time he
+saved my money. One cannot take proceedings against a dead man, it
+appears. So I was left a rich woman, after all, and my husband had
+frustrated Otto von Holzen. The world did not believe that my husband
+had done it on purpose; but I knew better. It is one of those beliefs
+that one keeps to one's self, and is indifferent whether the world
+believes or not. So there remain but two things for me to do--the one
+is to enjoy the money, and to let my husband see that I spend it as he
+would have wished me to spend it--upon myself; the other is to make
+Otto von Holzen pay--when the time comes. Who knows? the Malgamite is
+perhaps the time; you are perhaps the man.” She gave her disquieting
+little laugh again, and sat looking at him.
+
+“I understand,” he said at length. “Before, I was puzzled. There seemed
+no reason why you should take any interest in the scheme.”
+
+“My interest in the Malgamite scheme narrows down to an interest in one
+person,” answered Mrs. Vansittart, “which is what really happens to all
+human interests, my friend.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+A COMPLICATION.
+
+“La plus grande punition infligée à l'homme, c'est faire souffrir ce
+qu'il aime, en voulant frapper ce qu'il hait.”
+
+
+Cornish had, as he told Mrs. Vansittart, been living a week at
+Scheveningen in one of the quiet little inns in the fishing-town, where
+a couple of apples are displayed before lace curtains in the window of
+the restaurant as a modest promise of entertainment within. Knowing no
+Dutch, he was saved the necessity of satisfying the curiosity of a
+garrulous landlady, who, after many futile questions which he
+understood perfectly, came to the conclusion that Cornish was in
+hiding, and might at any moment fall into the hands of the police.
+
+There are, it appears, few human actions that attract more curiosity
+for a short time than the act of colonization. But no change is in the
+long run so apathetically accepted as the presence of a colony of
+aliens. Cornish soon learnt that the malgamite works were already
+accepted at Scheveningen as a fact of small local importance. One or
+two fish-sellers took their wares there instead of going direct to The
+Hague. A few of the malgamite workers were seen at times, when they
+could get leave, on the Digue, or outside the smaller _cafés_.
+Inoffensive, stricken men these appeared to be, and the big-limbed,
+hardy fishermen looked on them with mingled contempt and pity. No one
+knew what the works were, and no one cared. Some thought that fireworks
+were manufactured within the high fence; others imagined it to be a
+gunpowder factory. All were content with the knowledge that the
+establishment belonged to an English company employing no outside
+labour.
+
+Cornish spent his days unobtrusively walking on the dunes or writing
+letters in his modest rooms. His evenings he usually passed at the Café
+de l'Europe, where an occasional truant malgamite worker would indulge
+in a mild carouse. From these grim revelers Cornish elicited a good
+deal of information. He was not actually, as his landlady suspected, in
+hiding, but desired to withhold as long as possible from Von Holzen and
+Roden the fact that he was in Holland. None of the malgamite workers
+recognized him; indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across
+to The Hague, and he did not care to ask too many questions. At length,
+as we have seen, he arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes
+had been too deeply laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a
+preliminary to further action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+The following morning he happened to take his walk within sight of the
+Villa des Dunes, although far enough away to avoid risk of recognition,
+and saw Percy Roden leave the house shortly after nine to proceed
+towards the works. Then Tony Cornish lighted a cigarette, and sat down
+to wait. He knew that Dorothy usually walked to The Hague before the
+heat of the day to do her shopping there and household business. He had
+not long to wait. Dorothy quitted the little house half an hour after
+her brother. But she did not go towards The Hague, turning to the right
+instead, across the open dunes towards the sea. It was a cool morning
+after many hot days, and a fresh, invigorating breeze swept over the
+sand hills from the sea. It was to be presumed that Dorothy, having
+leisure, was going to the edge of the sea for a breath of the brisk air
+there.
+
+Cornish rose and followed her. He was essentially a practical
+man--among the leaders of a practical generation. The day, moreover,
+was conducive to practical thoughts and not to dreams, for it was grey
+and yet of a light air which came bowling in from a grey sea whose
+shores have assuredly been trodden by the most energetic of the races
+of the world. For all around the North Sea and on its bosom have risen
+races of men to conquer the universe again and again.
+
+Cornish had come with the intention of seeing Dorothy and speaking with
+her. He had quite clearly in his mind what he intended to say to her.
+It is not claimed for Tony Cornish that he had a great mind, and that
+this was now made up. But his thoughts, like all else about him, were
+neat and compact, wherein he had the advantage of cleverer men, who
+blundered along under the burden of vast ideas, which they could not
+put into portable shape, and over which they constantly stumbled.
+
+He followed Dorothy, who walked briskly over the sand hills, upright,
+trim, and strong. She carried a stick, which she planted firmly enough
+in the sand as she walked. As he approached, he could see her lifting
+her head to look for the sea; for the highest hills are on the shore
+here, and stand in the form of a great barrier between the waves and
+the low-lying plains. She swung along at the pace which Mrs. Vansittart
+had envied her, without exertion, with that ease which only comes from
+perfect proportions and strength.
+
+Cornish was quite close to her before she heard his step, and turned
+sharply. She recognized him at once, and he saw the colour slowly rise
+to her face. She gave no cry of surprise, however, was in no foolish
+feminine flutter, but came towards him quietly.
+
+“I did not know you were in Holland,” she said.
+
+He shook hands without answering. All that he had prepared in his mind
+had suddenly vanished, leaving not a blank, but a hundred other things
+which he had not intended to say, and which now, at the sight of her
+face, seemed inevitable.
+
+“Yes,” he said, looking into her steady grey eyes, “I am in
+Holland--because I cannot stay away--because I cannot live without you.
+I have pretended to myself and to everybody else that I come to The
+Hague because of the Malgamite; but it is not that. It is because you
+are here. Wherever you are I must be; wherever you go I must follow
+you. The world is not big enough for you to get away from me. It is so
+big that I feel I must always be near you--for fear something should
+happen to you--to watch over you and take care of you. You know what my
+life has been....”
+
+She turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the
+head. For a woman may read a man's life in his face--in the twinkling
+of an eye--as in an open book.
+
+“All the world knows that....” he continued, with a sceptical laugh.
+“Is it not written ... in the society papers? But it has always been
+aboveboard--and harmless enough....”
+
+Dorothy smiled as she looked out across the grey sea. He was, it
+appeared, telling her nothing that she did not know. For she was wise
+and shrewd--of that pure leaven of womankind which leaveneth all the
+rest. And she knew that a man must not be judged by his life--not even
+by outward appearance, upon which the world pins so much faith--but by
+that occasional glimpse of the soul of him, which may live on, pure
+through all impurity, or may be foul beneath the whitest covering.
+
+“Of course,” he continued, “I have wasted my time horribly--I have
+never done any good in the world. But--great is the extenuating
+circumstance! I never knew what life was until I saw it ... in your
+eyes.”
+
+Still she stood with her back half turned towards him, looking out
+across the sea. The sun had mastered the clouds and all the surface of
+the water glittered. A few boats on the horizon seemed to dream and
+sleep there. Beneath the dunes, the sand stretched away north and south
+in an unbroken plain. The wind whispered through the waving grass, and,
+far across the sands, the sea sang its eternal song. Dorothy and
+Cornish seemed to be alone in this world of sea and sand. So far as the
+eye could see, there were no signs of human life but the boats dreaming
+on the horizon.
+
+“Are you quite sure?” said Dorothy, without turning her head.
+
+“Of what...?”
+
+“Of what you say.”
+
+“Yes; I am quite sure.”
+
+“Because,” she said, with a little laugh that suddenly opened the gates
+of Paradise and bade one more poor human-being enter in--“because it is
+a serious matter ... for me.”
+
+Then, because he was a practical man and knew that happiness, like all
+else in this life, must be dealt with practically if aught is to be
+made of it, he told her why he had come. For happiness must not be
+rushed at and seized with wild eyes and grasping hands, but must be
+quickly taken when the chance offers, and delicately handled so that it
+be not ruined by over haste or too much confidence. It is a gift that
+is rarely offered, and it is only fair to say that the majority of men
+and women are quite unfit to have it. Even a little prosperity (which
+is usually mistaken for happiness) often proves too much for the mental
+equilibrium, and one trembles to think what the recipient would do with
+real happiness.
+
+“I did not come here intending to tell you that,” said Cornish, after a
+pause.
+
+
+They were seated now on the dry and driven sand, among the inequalities
+of the tufted grass.
+
+Dorothy glanced at him gravely, for his voice had been grave.
+
+“I think I knew,” she answered, with a sort of quiet exultation.
+Happiness is the quietest of human states.
+
+Cornish turned to look at her, and after a moment she met his eyes--for
+an instant only.
+
+“I came to tell you a very different story,” he said, “and one which at
+the moment seems to present insuperable difficulties. I can only show
+you that I care for you by bringing trouble into your life--which is not
+even original.”
+
+He broke off with a little, puzzled laugh. For he did not know how best
+to tell her that her brother was a scoundrel. He sat making idle holes
+in the sand with his stick.
+
+“I am in a difficulty,” he said at length--“so great a difficulty that
+there seems to be only one way out of it. You must forget what I have
+told you to-day, for I never meant to tell you until afterwards, if
+ever. Forget it for some months until the malgamite works have ceased
+to exist, and then, if I have the good fortune to be given an
+opportunity, I will”--he paused--“I will mention myself again,” he
+concluded steadily.
+
+Dorothy's lips quivered, but she said nothing. It seemed that she was
+content to accept his judgment without comment as superior to her own.
+For the wisest woman is she who suspects that men are wiser.
+
+
+“It is quite clear,” said Cornish, “that the Malgamite scheme is a
+fraud. It is worse than that; it is a murderous fraud. For Von Holzen's
+new system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system
+revived, which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not
+this identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the
+stuff for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English,
+it is murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I must stop it whatever it may cost me.”
+
+“Yes,” she answered again.
+
+“I am going to the works to-night to have it out with Von Holzen and
+your brother. It is impossible to say how matters really stand--how
+much your brother knows, I mean--for Von Holzen is clever. He is a
+cold, calculating man, who rules all who come near him. Your brother
+has only to do with the money part of it. They are making a great
+fortune. I am told that financially it is splendidly managed. I am a
+duffer at such things, but I understand better now how it has all been
+done, and I see how clever it is. They produce the stuff for almost
+nothing, they sell it at a great price, and they have a monopoly. And
+the world thinks it is a charity. It is not; it is murder.”
+
+He spoke quietly, tapping the ground with his stick, and emphasizing
+his words with a deeper thrust into the sand. The habit of touching
+life lightly had become second nature with him, and even now he did not
+seem quite serious. He was, at all events, free from that deadly
+earnestness which blinds the eye to all save one side of a question.
+The very soil that he tapped could have risen up to speak in favour of
+such as he; for William the Silent, it is said, loved a jest, and never
+seemed to be quite serious during the long years of the greatest
+struggle the modern world has seen.
+
+“It seems probable,” went on Cornish, “that your brother has been
+gradually drawn into it; that he did not know when he first joined Von
+Holzen what the thing really was--the system of manufacture, I mean. As
+for the financial side of it, I am afraid he must have known of that
+all along; but the older one gets the less desirous one is of judging
+one's neighbour. In financial matters so much seems to depend, in the
+formation of a judgment, whether one is a loser or a gainer by the
+transaction. There is a great fortune in malgamite, and a fortune is a
+temptation to be avoided. Others besides your brother have been
+tempted. I should probably have succumbed myself if it had not
+been--for you.”
+
+
+She smiled again in a sort of derision; as if she could have told him
+more about himself than he could tell her. He saw the smile, and it
+brought a flash of light to his eyes. Deeper than fear of damnation,
+higher than the creeds, stronger than any motive in a man's life, is
+the absolute confidence placed in him by a woman.
+
+“I went into the thing thoughtlessly,” he continued, “because it was
+the fashion at the time to be concerned in some large charity. And I am
+not sorry. It was the luckiest move I ever made. And now the thing will
+have to be gone through with, and there will be trouble.”
+
+But he laughed as he spoke; for there was no trouble in their hearts,
+neither could anything appall them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+DANGER.
+
+“Beware equally of a sudden friend and a slow enemy.”
+
+
+Roden and Von Holzen were at work in the little office of the malgamite
+works. The sun had just set, and the soft pearly twilight was creeping
+over the sand hills. The day's work was over, and the factories were
+all locked up for the night. In the stillness that seems to settle over
+earth and sea at sunset, the sound of the little waves could be
+heard--a distant, constant babbling from the west. The workers had gone
+to their huts. They were not a noisy body of men. It was their custom
+to creep quietly home when their work was done, and to sit in their
+doorways if the evening was warm, or with closed doors if the north
+wind was astir, and silently, steadily assuage their deadly thirst.
+Those who sought to harvest their days, who fondly imagined they were
+going to make a fight for it, drank milk according to advice handed
+down to them from their sickly forefathers. The others, more reckless,
+or wiser, perhaps, in their brief generation, took stronger drink to
+make glad their hearts and for their many infirmities.
+
+They had merely to ask, and that which they asked for was given to them
+without comment.
+
+“Yes,” said Uncle Ben to the new-comers, “you has a slap-up time--while
+it lasts.”
+
+For Uncle Ben was a strong man, and waxed garrulous in his cups. He had
+made malgamite all his life and nothing would kill him, not even drink.
+Von Holzen watched Uncle Ben, and did not like him. It was Uncle Ben
+who played the concertina at the door of his hut in the evening. He
+sprang from the class whose soul takes delight in the music of a
+concertina, and rises on bank holidays to that height of gaiety which
+can only be expressed by an interchange of hats. He came from the slums
+of London, where they breed a race of men, small, ill-formed,
+disease-stricken, hard to kill.
+
+The north wind was blowing this evening, and the huts were all closed.
+The sound of Uncle Ben's concertina could be dimly heard in what
+purported to be a popular air--a sort of nightmare of a tune such as a
+barrel-organist must suffer after bad beer. Otherwise, there was
+nothing stirring within the enclosure. There was, indeed, a hush over
+the whole place, such as Nature sometimes lays over certain spots like
+a quiet veil, as one might lay a cloth over the result of an accident,
+and say, “There is something wrong here; go away.”
+
+Cornish, having tried the main entrance gate, found it locked, and no
+bell with which to summon those within. He went round to the northern
+end of the enclosure, where the sand had drifted against the high
+corrugated iron fencing, and where there were empty barrels on the
+inner side, as Uncle Ben had told him.
+
+“After all, I am a managing director of this concern,” said Cornish to
+himself, with a grim laugh, as he clambered over the fence.
+
+He walked down the row of huts very slowly. Some of them were empty.
+The door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him
+stop and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy
+sheet.
+
+“Um--m,” muttered Cornish, and walked on.
+
+There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then
+Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to
+“Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay.” He bit his lips, restraining a sudden desire to
+laugh without any mirth in his heart, and went towards Von Holzen's
+office, where a light gleamed through the ill-closed curtains. For
+these men were working night and day now--making their fortunes. He
+caught, as he passed the window, a glimpse of Roden bending over a
+great ledger which lay open before him on the table, while Von Holzen,
+at another desk, was writing letters in his neat German hand.
+
+Then Cornish went to the door, opened it, and passing in, closed it
+behind him.
+
+“Good evening,” he said, with just a slight exaggeration of his usual
+suave politeness.
+
+“Halloa!” exclaimed Roden, with a startled look, and instinctively
+closing his ledger.
+
+He looked hastily towards Von Holzen, who turned, pen in hand. Von
+Holzen bowed rather coldly.
+
+“Good evening,” he answered, without looking at Roden. Indeed, he
+crossed the room, and placed himself in front of his companion.
+
+“Just come across?” inquired Roden, putting together his papers with
+his usual leisureliness.
+
+“No; I have been here some time.”
+
+Cornish turned and met Von Holzen's eyes with a ready audacity. He was
+not afraid of this silent scientist, and had been trained in a social
+world where nerve and daring are highly cultivated. Von Holzen looked
+at him with a measuring eye, and remembered some warning words spoken
+by Roden months before. This was a cleverer man than they had thought
+him. This was the one mistake they had made in their careful scheme.
+
+“I have been looking into things,” said Cornish, in a final voice. He
+took off his hat and laid it aside.
+
+Von Holzen went slowly back to his desk, which was a high one. He stood
+there close by Roden, leaning his elbow on the letters that he had been
+writing. The two men were thus together facing Cornish, who stood at
+the other side of the table.
+
+“I have been looking into things,” he repeated, “and--the game is up.”
+
+Roden, whose face was quite colourless, shrugged his shoulders with a
+sneering smile. Von Holzen slowly moistened his lips, and Cornish,
+meeting his glance, felt his heart leap upward to his throat. His
+way had been the way of peace. He had never seen that look in a man's
+eyes before, but there was no mistaking it. There are two things that
+none can mistake--an earthquake, and murder shining in a man's eyes.
+But there was good blood in Cornish's veins, and good blood never
+fails. His muscles tightened, and he smiled in Von Holzen's face.
+
+“When you were over in London a fortnight ago,” he said, “you saw my
+uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be
+squared. As to the financial part of this business”--he paused, and
+glanced at the ledgers--“that seems to be of secondary importance at
+the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance.”
+
+Roden's tired eyes flickered at the way in which the word was spoken.
+
+“I propose to deal with the more vital questions,” Cornish continued,
+looking straight at Von Holzen. “I want details of the new process--the
+prescription, in fact.”
+
+“Then you want much,” answered Von Holzen, with his slight accent.
+
+“Oh, I want more than that,” was the retort; “I want a list of your
+deaths--not necessarily for publication. If the public were to hear of
+it, they would pull the place down about your ears, and probably hang
+you on your own water-tower.”
+
+Von Holzen laughed. “Ah, my fine gentleman, if there is any hanging up
+to be done, you are in it, too,” he said. Then he broke into a
+good-humoured laugh, and waved the question aside with his hand. “But
+why should we quarrel? It is mere foolishness. We are not schoolboys,
+but men of the world, who are reasonable, I hope. I cannot give you the
+prescription because it is a trade secret. You would not understand it
+without expert assistance, and the expert would turn his knowledge to
+account. We chemists, you see, do not trust each other. No; but I can
+make malgamite here before your eyes--to show you that it is
+harmless--what?” He spoke easily, with a certain fascination of manner,
+as a man to whom speech was easy enough--who was perhaps silent with a
+set purpose--because silence is safe. “But it is a long process,” he
+added, holding up one finger, “I warn you. It will take me two hours.
+And you, who have perhaps not dined, and this Roden, who is tired
+out--”
+
+“Roden can go home--if he is tired,” said Cornish.
+
+“Well,” answered Von Holzen, with outspread hands, “it is as you like.
+Will you have it now and here?”
+
+“Yes--now and here.”
+
+Roden was slowly folding away his papers and closing his books. He
+glanced curiously at Von Holzen, as if he were displaying a hitherto
+unknown side to his character. Von Holzen, too, was collecting the
+papers scattered on his desk, with a patient air and a half-suppressed
+sigh of weariness, as if he were entering upon a work of
+supererogation.
+
+“As to the deaths,” he said, “I can demonstrate that as we go along.
+You will see where the dangers lie, and how criminally neglectful these
+people are. It is a curious thing, that carelessness of life. I am told
+the Russian soldiers have it.”
+
+It seemed that in his way Herr von Holzen was a philosopher, having in
+his mind a store of odd human items. He certainly had the power of
+arousing curiosity and making his hearers wish him to continue
+speaking, which is rare. Most men are uninteresting because they talk
+too much.
+
+“Then I think I will go,” said Roden, rising. He looked from one to the
+other, and received no answer. “Good night,” he added, and walked to
+the door with dragging feet.
+
+“Good night,” said Cornish. And he was left alone for the first time in
+his life with Von Holzen, who was clearing the table and making his
+preparations with a silent deftness of touch acquired by the handling
+of delicate instruments, the mixing of dangerous drugs.
+
+“Then our good friend Lord Ferriby does not know that you are here?” he
+inquired, without much interest, as if acknowledging the necessity of
+conversation of some sort.
+
+“No,” answered Cornish.
+
+“When I have shown you this experiment,” pursued Von Holzen, setting
+the lamp on a side-table, “we must have a little talk about his
+lordship. With all modesty, you and I have the clearest heads of all
+concerned in this invention.” He looked at Cornish with his sudden,
+pleasant smile. “You will excuse me,” he said, “if while I am doing
+this I do not talk much. It is a difficult thing to keep in one's head,
+and all the attention is required in order to avoid a mistake or a
+mishap.”
+
+He had already assumed an air of unconscious command, which was
+probably habitual with him, as if there were no question between them
+as to who was the stronger man. Cornish sat, pleasantly silent and
+acquiescent, but he felt in no way dominated. It is one thing to assume
+authority, and another to possess it.
+
+“I have a little laboratory in the factory where I usually work, but
+not at night. We do not allow lights in there. Excuse me, I will fetch
+my crucible and lamp.”
+
+And he went out, leaving Cornish alone. There was only one door to the
+room, leading straight out into the open. The office, it appeared, was
+built in the form of an annex to one of the storehouses, which stood
+detached from all other buildings.
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen returned, laden with bottles and jars. One
+large wicker-covered bottle with a screw top he set carefully on the
+table.
+
+“I had to find them in the dark,” he explained absent-mindedly, as if
+his thoughts were all absorbed by the work in hand. “And one must be
+careful not to jar or break any of these. Please do not touch them in
+my absence.” As he spoke, he again examined the stoppers to see that
+all was secure. “I come again,” he said, making sure that the large
+basket-covered bottle was safe. Then he walked quickly out of the room
+and closed the door behind him.
+
+Almost immediately Cornish was conscious of a bitter taste in his
+mouth, though he could smell nothing. The lamp suddenly burnt blue and
+instantly went out.
+
+Cornish stood up, groping in the dark, his head swimming, a deadly
+numbness dragging at his limbs. He had no pain, only a strange
+sensation of being drawn upwards. Then his head bumped against the
+door, and the remaining glimmer of consciousness shaped itself into the
+knowledge that this was death. He seemed to swing backwards and
+forwards between life and death--between sleep and consciousness. Then
+he felt a cooler air on his lips. He had fallen against the door, which
+did not fit against the threshold, and a draught of fresh air whistled
+through upon his face. “Carbonic acid gas,” he muttered, with shaking
+lips. “Carbonic acid gas.” He repeated the words over and over again,
+as a man in delirium repeats that which has fixed itself in his
+wandering brain. Then, with a great effort, he brought himself to
+understand the meaning of the words that one portion of his brain kept
+repeating to the other portion which could not comprehend them. He
+tried to recollect all that he knew of carbonic acid gas, which was, in
+fact, not much. He vaguely remembered that it is not an active gas that
+mingles with the air and spreads, but rather it lurks in corners--an
+invisible form of death--and will so lurk for years unless disturbed
+by a current of air.
+
+ Cornish knew that in falling he had fallen out of the radius of the
+escaping gas, which probably filled the upper part of the room. If he
+raised himself, he would raise himself into the gas, which was slowly
+descending upon him, and that would mean instant death. He had already
+inhaled enough--perhaps too much. He lay quite still, breathing the
+draught between the door and the threshold, and raising his left hand,
+felt for the handle of the door. He found it and turned it. The door
+was locked. He lay still, and his brain began to wander, but with an
+effort he kept a hold upon his thoughts. He was a strong man, who had
+never had a bad illness--a cool head and an intrepid heart.
+Stretching out his legs, he found some object close to him. It was Von
+Holzen's desk, which stood on four strong legs against the wall.
+Cornish, who was quick and observant, remembered now how the room was
+shaped and furnished. He gathered himself together, drew in his legs,
+and doubled himself, with his feet against the desk, his shoulder
+against the door. He was long and lithe, of a steely strength which he
+had never tried. He now slowly straightened himself, and tore the
+screws out of the solid wood of the door, which remained hanging by the
+upper hinge. His head and shoulders were now out in the open air.
+He lay for a moment or two to regain his breath, and recover from the
+deadly nausea that follows gas poisoning. Then he rose to his feet, and
+stood swaying like a drunken man. Von Holzen's cottage was a few yards
+away. A light was burning there, and gleamed through the cracks of the
+curtains.
+
+Cornish went towards the cottage, then paused. “No,” he muttered,
+holding his head with both hands. “It will keep.” And he staggered away
+in the darkness towards the corner where the empty barrels stood
+against the fence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+FROM THE PAST.
+
+“One and one with a shadowy third.”
+
+
+“You have the air, _mon ami_, of a malgamiter,” said Mrs. Vansittart,
+looking into Cornish's face--“lurking here in your little inn in a back
+street! Why do you not go to one of the larger hotels in Scheveningen,
+since you have abandoned The Hague?”
+
+“Because the larger hotels are not open yet,” replied Cornish, bringing
+forward a chair.
+
+“That is true, now that I think of it. But I did not ask the question
+wanting an answer. You, who have been in the world, should know women
+better than to think that. I asked in idleness--a woman's trick.
+Yes; you have been or you are ill. There is a white look in your face.”
+
+She sat looking at him. She had walked all the way from Park Straat in
+the shade of the trees--quite a pedestrian feat for one who confessed to
+belonging to a carriage generation. She had boldly entered the
+restaurant of the little hotel, and had told the waiter to take her to
+Mr. Cornish's apartment.
+
+“It hardly matters what a very young waiter, at the beginning of his
+career, may think of us. But downstairs they are rather scandalized, I
+warn you,” she said.
+
+“Oh, I ceased explaining many years ago,” replied Cornish, “even in
+English. More suspicion is aroused by explanation than by silence. For
+this wise world will not believe that one is telling the truth.”
+
+“When one is not,” suggested Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+“When one is not,” admitted Cornish, in rather a tired voice, which, to
+so keen an ear as that of his hearer, was as good as asking her why she
+had come.
+
+She laughed. “Yes,” she said, “you are not inclined to sit and talk
+nonsense at this time in the morning. No more am I. I did not walk from
+Park Straat and take your defences by storm, and subject myself to the
+insult of a raised eyebrow on the countenance of a foolish young
+waiter, to talk nonsense even with you, who are cleverer with your
+non-committing platitudes than any man I know.” She laughed rather
+harshly, as many do when they find themselves suddenly within hail, as
+it were, of that weakness which is called feeling. “No, I came here
+on--let us say--business. I hold a good card, and I am going to play
+it. I want you to hold your hand in the mean time; give me to-day, you
+understand. I have taken great care to strengthen my hand. This is no
+sudden impulse, but a set purpose to which I have led up for some
+weeks. It is not scrupulous; it is not even honest. It is, in a word,
+essentially feminine, and not an affair to which you as a man could
+lend a moment's approval. Therefore, I tell you nothing. I merely ask
+you to leave me an open field to-day. Our end is the same, though our
+methods and our purpose differ as much as--well, as much as our minds.
+You want to break this Malgamite corner. I want to break Otto von
+Holzen. You understand?”
+
+Cornish had known her long enough to permit himself to nod and say
+nothing.
+
+“If I succeed, _tant mieux_. If I fail, it is no concern of yours, and
+it will in no way affect you or your plans. Ah, you disapprove, I see.
+What a complicated world this would be if we could all wear masks! Your
+face used to be a safer one than it is now. Can it be that you are
+becoming serious--_un jeune homme sérieux?_ Heaven save you from that!”
+
+“No; I have a headache; that is all,” laughed
+Cornish.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was slowly unbuttoning and rebuttoning her glove, deep
+in thought. For some women can think deeply and talk superficially at
+the same moment.
+
+“Do you know,” she said, with a sudden change of voice and manner, “I
+have a conviction that you know something to-day of which you were
+ignorant yesterday? All knowledge, I suppose, leaves its mark.
+Something about Otto von Holzen, I suspect. Ah, Tony, if you know
+something, tell it to me. If you hold a strong card, let me play it.
+You do not know how I have longed and waited--what a miserable little
+hand I hold against this strong man.”
+
+She was serious enough now. Her voice had a ring of hopelessness in it,
+as if she knew that limit against which a woman is fated to throw
+herself when she tries to injure a man who has no love for her. If the
+love be there, then is she strong, indeed; but without it, what can she
+do? It is the little more that is so much, and the little less that is
+such worlds away.
+
+Cornish did not deny the knowledge which she ascribed to him, but
+merely shook his head, and Mrs. Vansittart suddenly changed her manner
+again. She was quick and clever enough to know that whatever account
+stood open between Cornish and Von Holzen the reckoning must be between
+them alone, without the help of any woman.
+
+“Then you will remain indoors,” she said, rising, “and recover from
+your ... strange headache--and not go near the malgamite works, nor see
+Percy Roden or Otto von Holzen--and let me have my little try--that is
+all I ask.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Cornish, reluctantly; “but I think you would be wiser
+to leave Von Holzen to me.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mrs. Vansittart, with one of her quick glances. “You think
+that.”
+
+She paused on the threshold, then shrugged her shoulders and passed
+out. She hurried home, and there wrote a note to Percy Roden.
+
+“DEAR MR. RODEN,
+
+“It seems a long time since I saw you last, though perhaps it only
+seems so to _me_. I shall be at home at five o'clock this evening, if
+you care to take pity on a lonely countrywoman. If I should be out
+riding when you come, please await my return.
+
+“Yours very truly,
+
+“EDITH VANSITTART.”
+
+She closed the letter with a little cruel smile, and despatched it by
+the hand of a servant. Quite early in the afternoon she put on her
+habit, but did not go straight downstairs, although her horse was at
+the door. She went to the library instead--a small, large-windowed room,
+looking on to Oranje Straat. From a drawer in her writing-table she
+took a key, and examined it closely before slipping it into her pocket.
+It was a new key with the file-marks still upon it.
+
+“A clumsy expedient,” she said. “But the end is so desirable that the
+means must not be too scrupulously considered.”
+
+She rode down Kazerne Straat and through the wood by the Leyden Road.
+By turning to the left, she soon made her way to the East Dunes, and
+thus describing a circle, rode slowly back towards Scheveningen. She
+knew her way, it appeared, to the malgamite works. Leaving her horse in
+the care of the groom, she walked to the gate of the works, which was
+opened to her by the doorkeeper, after some hesitation. The man was a
+German, and therefore, perhaps, more amenable to Mrs. Vansittart's
+imperious arguments.
+
+“I must see Herr von Holzen without delay,” she said. “Show me his
+office.”
+
+
+
+The man pointed out the building. “But the Herr Professor is in the
+factory,” he said. “It is mixing-day to-day. I will, however, fetch
+him.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked slowly towards the office where Roden had told
+her that the safe stood wherein the prescription and other papers were
+secured. She knew it was mixing-day and that Von Holzen would be in the
+factory. She had sent Roden on a fool's errand to Park Straat to await
+her return there. Was she going to succeed? Would she be left alone for
+a few moments in that little office with the safe? She fingered the key
+in her pocket--a duplicate obtained at some risk, with infinite
+difficulty, by the simple stratagem of borrowing Roden's keys to open
+an old and disused desk one evening in Park Straat. She had conceived
+the plan herself, had carried it out herself, as all must who wish to
+succeed in a human design. She was quite aware that the plan was crude
+and almost childish, but the gain was great, and it is often the
+simplest means that succeed. The secret of the manufacture of
+malgamite--written in black and white--might prove to be Von Holzen's
+death-warrant. Mrs. Vansittart had to fight in her own way or not fight
+at all. She could not understand the slower, surer methods of Mr. Wade
+and Cornish, who appeared to be waiting and wasting time.
+
+The German doorkeeper accompanied her to the office, and opened the
+door after knocking and receiving no answer.
+
+“Will the high-born take a seat?” he said; “I shall not be long.”
+
+“There is no need to hurry,” said Mrs. Vansittart to herself.
+
+And before the door was quite closed she was on her feet again. The
+office was bare and orderly. Even the waste-paper baskets were empty.
+The books were locked away and the desks were clear. But the small
+green safe stood in the corner. Mrs. Vansittart went towards it, key in
+hand. The key was the right one. It had only been selected by guesswork
+among a number on Roden's bunch. It slipped into the lock and turned
+smoothly, but the door would not move. She tugged and wrenched at the
+handle, then turned it accidentally, and the heavy door swung open.
+There were two drawers at the bottom of the safe which were not locked,
+and contained neatly folded papers. Her fingers were among these in a
+moment. The papers were folded and tied together. Many of the bundles
+were labelled. A long narrow envelope lay at the bottom of the drawer.
+She seized it quickly and turned it over. It bore no address nor any
+superscription. “Ah!” she said breathlessly, and slipped her finger
+within the flap of the envelope. Then she hesitated for a moment, and
+turned on her heel. Von Holzen was standing in the doorway looking at
+her.
+
+They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's
+lips were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet
+eyes were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark
+pupil. Then he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong
+woman, taller than he, or else she would have fallen. Instead, she
+stood her ground, and he, failing to get a grasp at her wrist, stumbled
+sideways against the table. In a moment she had run round it, and again
+they stared at each other, without a word, across the table where Percy
+Roden kept the books of the malgamite works.
+
+A slow smile came to Von Holzen's face, which was colourless always,
+and now a sort of grey. He turned on his heel, walked to the door, and,
+locking it, slipped the key into his pocket. Then he returned to Mrs.
+Vansittart. Neither spoke. No explanation was at that moment necessary.
+He lifted the table bodily, and set it aside against the wall. Then he
+went slowly towards her, holding out his hand for the unaddressed
+envelope, which she held behind her back. He stood for a moment holding
+out his hand while his strong will went out to meet hers. Then he
+sprang at her again and seized her two wrists. The strength of his arms
+was enormous, for he was a deep-chested man, and had been a gymnast.
+The struggle was a short one, and Mrs. Vansittart dropped the envelope
+helplessly from her paralyzed fingers. He picked it up.
+
+“You are the wife of Karl Vansittart,” he said in German.
+
+“I am his widow,” she replied; and her breath caught, for she was still
+shaken by the physical and moral realization of her absolute
+helplessness in his hands, and she saw in a flash of thought the
+question in his mind as to whether he could afford to let her leave the
+room alive.
+
+“Give me the key with which you opened the safe,” he said coldly.
+
+She had replaced the key in her pocket, and now sought it with a
+shaking hand. She gave it to him without a word. Morally she would not
+acknowledge herself beaten, and the bitterness of that moment was the
+self-contempt with which she realized a physical cowardice which she
+had hitherto deemed quite impossible. For the flesh is always surprised
+by its own weakness.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the key critically, turning it over in order to
+examine the workmanship. It was clumsily enough made, and he doubtless
+guessed how she had obtained it. Then he glanced at her as she stood
+breathless with a colourless face and compressed lips.
+
+“I hope I did not hurt you,” he said quietly, thereby putting in a dim
+and far-off claim to greatness, for it is hard not to triumph in
+absolute victory.
+
+She shook her head with a twisted smile, and looked down at her hands,
+which were still helpless. There were bands of bright red round the
+white wrists. Her gloves lay on the table. She went towards them and
+numbly took them up. He was impassive still, and his face, which had
+flushed a few moments earlier, slowly regained its usual calm pallor.
+It was this very calmness, perhaps, that suddenly incensed Mrs.
+Vansittart. Or it may have been that she had regained her courage.
+
+“Yes,” she cried, with a sort of break in her voice that made it
+strident--“yes. I am Karl Vansittart's wife, and I--cared for him. Do
+you know what that means? But you can't. All that side of life is a
+closed book to such as you. It means that if you had been a hundred
+times in the right and he always in the wrong, I should still have
+believed in him and distrusted you--should still have cared for him and
+hated you. But he was not guilty. He was in the right and you were
+wrong--a thief and a murderer, no doubt. And to screen your paltry
+name, you sacrificed Karl and the happiness of two people who had just
+begun to be happy. It means that I shall not rest until I have made you
+pay for what you have done. I have never lost sight of you--and never
+shall--”
+
+She paused, and looked at his impassive face with a strange, dull
+curiosity as she spoke of the future, as if wondering whether she had a
+future or had reached the end of her life--here, at this moment, in the
+little plank-walled office of the malgamite works. But her courage rose
+steadily. It is only afar off that Death is terrible. When we actually
+stand in his presence, we usually hold up our heads and face him
+quietly enough.
+
+“You may have other enemies,” she continued. “I know you have--men,
+too--but none of them will last so long as I shall, none of them is to
+be feared as I am--”
+
+She stopped again in a fury, for he was obviously waiting for her to
+pause for mere want of breath, as if her words could be of no weight.
+
+“If you fear anything on earth,” she said, acknowledging is one merit
+despite herself.
+
+“I fear you so little,” he answered, going to the door and unlocking
+it, “that you may go.”
+
+Her whip lay on the table. He picked it up and handed it to her,
+gravely, without a bow, without a shade of triumph or the smallest
+suspicion of sarcasm. There was perhaps the nucleus of a great man in
+Otto von Holzen, after all, for there was no smallness in his mind. He
+opened the door, and stood aside for her to pass out.
+
+“It is not because you do not fear me--that you let me go,” said Mrs.
+Vansittart. “But--because you are afraid of Tony Cornish.”
+
+And she went out, wondering whether the shot had told or missed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+A COMBINED FORCE.
+
+“Hear, but be faithful to your interest still.
+ Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will.”
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked to the gate of the malgamite works, thinking
+that Von Holzen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate,
+which the porter threw open on seeing her approach, she turned and
+found that she was alone. Von Holzen was walking quietly back towards
+the factory. He was so busy making his fortune that he could not give
+Mrs. Vansittart more than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went
+towards her horse. Neglect is no balm to the wounds of the defeated.
+
+She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five
+o'clock, and Percy Roden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat.
+It is a woman's business to know what is expected of her. Mrs.
+Vansittart recalled in a very matter-of-fact way the wording of her
+letter to Roden. She brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure
+that her hair was tidy. Then she fell into deep thought, and set her
+mind in a like order for the work that lay before her. A man's deepest
+schemes in love are child's play beside the woman's schemes that meet
+or frustrate his own. Mrs. Vansittart rode rapidly home to Park Straat.
+
+Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the
+drawing-room. She walked slowly upstairs. Some victories are only to be
+won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Vansittart's mind was warped,
+or she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her
+revenge. She was sacrificing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred.
+
+“Ah!” she said to Roden, whose manner betrayed the recollection of her
+invitation to him, “so I have kept you waiting--a minute, perhaps, for
+each day that you have stayed away from Park Straat.”
+
+Roden laughed, with a shade of embarrassment, which she was quick to
+detect.
+
+“Is it your sister,” she asked, “who has induced you to stay away?”
+
+“Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you,” he answered.
+
+“Then it is Herr von Holzen,” said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her
+gloves and turning towards the tea-table. She spoke quietly and rather
+indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social
+grade. “I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know
+something of your--what is he?--your foreman. He has probably warned
+you against me. My husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I
+believe, robbed by him. We never knew the man socially, and
+I have always suspected that he bore us some ill feeling on that
+account. You remember--in this room, when you brought him to call soon
+after your works were built--that he referred to having met my husband.
+Doubtless with a view to finding out how much I knew, or if I was in
+reality the wife of Charles Vansittart. But I did not choose to
+enlighten him.”
+
+She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were unsteady still,
+and she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discoloration of
+her wrist. She turned rather suddenly, and saw on Roden's face the
+confession that it had been due to Von Holzen's influence that he had
+absented himself from her drawing-room.
+
+“However,” she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if
+dismissing a subject of small importance--“however, I suppose Herr von
+Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons
+in that trying condition.”
+
+She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit.
+Roden's slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one
+may be sure.
+
+“Tell me your news,” she said. “You look tired and ill. It is hard work
+making one's fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before
+you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth
+while to have worked so hard.”
+
+“Perhaps what I want is not to be bought,” he said, with his eyes on
+the carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game.
+
+“Ah!” she exclaimed. “Then it must be either worthless or priceless.”
+
+He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to
+detect the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of
+the tired eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a financier, and
+women have no use for such cleverness, only for the results of it.
+Roden was conscious of making no progress with Mrs. Vansittart, who
+handled him as a cat handles a disabled mouse while watching another
+hole.
+
+“You have been busier than ever, I suppose,” she said, “since you have
+had no time to remember your friends.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most
+absorbing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is
+capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Vansittart.
+“Yes, we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day
+now. And we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect
+it. Von Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says
+anything. He may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Vansittart, but he is a
+wonderful man.”
+
+“Ah,” said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferently; and something in her manner
+made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for
+associating himself with a person who, as she had subtly and
+flatteringly hinted more than once, was far beneath him from a social
+point of view. This desire rendered him less guarded than it was
+perhaps wise to be under the circumstances.
+
+“Yes, he is a very clever man--a genius, I think. He rises to each
+difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of
+his foresight. He has done more than you think in the malgamite works.
+His share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only
+the financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and
+about--money--how it should be handled--that is all.”
+
+“You are too modest, I think,” said Mrs. Vansittart, gravely. “You
+forget that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in
+London.”
+
+“Yes--while Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult
+task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It
+would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders,
+like other people.” And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his
+moustache, smiled a somewhat fatuous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a
+woman will love a man the more for being a good man of business.
+
+“Yes,” said Mrs. Vansittart, softly.
+
+“But I should like Von Holzen to have his due,” said Roden, rather
+grandly. “He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes that except
+perhaps Cornish.”
+
+“Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then?”
+
+“Cornish does his best to upset Von Holzen's plans at every turn. He
+does not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into
+business he invariably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he
+calls scruples. It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to
+it.” Roden spoke rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and
+disliked Mrs. Vansittart's attitude towards Cornish. “But he is no
+match for Von Holzen,” he continued, “as he will find to his cost. Von
+Holzen is not the sort of man to stand any kind of interference.”
+
+
+
+“Ah?” said Mrs. Vansittart again, in the slightly questioning and
+indifferent manner with which she received all defence of Otto von
+Holzen, and which had the effect of urging Roden to further
+explanation.
+
+“He is not a man I should care to cross myself,” he said, determined to
+secure Mrs. Vansittart's full attention. “He has the whole of the
+malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty powerful, I can tell
+you. They are a desperate set of fellows; men engaged in a dangerous
+industry do not wear kid gloves.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea-table; for Roden
+rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he
+perhaps suspected.
+
+“Ah,” she said, rather more indifferently than before, “I think you
+exaggerate Herr von Holzen's importance in the world.”
+
+“I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is
+not careful,” retorted Roden, half sullenly.
+
+There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced
+sharply at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid
+of Von Holzen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared.
+There are periods in every man's history when human affairs suddenly
+appear to become unmanageable and the course of events gets beyond any
+sort of control--when the hand at the helm falters, and even the
+managing female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have
+reached such a crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart; charm she never so
+wisely, could not brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in
+no mood for love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humour,
+as a woman can, when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many
+things, both glancing at the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were
+not the first man and woman to go hunting Cupid with the best will in
+the world--only to draw a blank.
+
+At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements.
+Physically and morally he seemed to want tightening up.
+
+“I must go back to the works,” he said. “We work late to-night.”
+
+“Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been,” replied Mrs.
+Vansittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold, with a
+gravity and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, “I do not
+want you to discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand!”
+
+She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he
+went downstairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him
+she rang sharply.
+
+“The brougham,” she said to the servant, “at once.”
+
+Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa
+des Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely
+obscuring the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight. Indeed,
+nature itself appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the
+town behind and emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the
+countless sparrows in the lime-trees were preparing for the night. The
+trees themselves were shedding an evening odour, while, from canal and
+dyke and ditch, there arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass
+which hangs over the whole of Holland all night.
+
+“The place smells of calamity,” said Mrs. Vansittart to herself, as she
+quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the
+Villa des Dunes.
+
+Dorothy was in the garden, and, seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs.
+Vansittart had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she
+usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves.
+
+“Come,” she said rapidly, taking Dorothy's hand, and holding it--“come
+to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we
+dined alone together. I do not want to go indoors. I am nervous,
+I suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in
+the dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants,
+so I came to you.”
+
+“I think there is going to be a thunderstorm,” said Dorothy.
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sudden laugh. “I knew you would say
+that. Because you are modern and practical--or, at all events, you show
+a practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that
+much for the modern girl, at all events--she keeps her head. As to her
+heart--well, perhaps she has not got one.”
+
+“Perhaps not,” admitted Dorothy.
+
+They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a
+weeping-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs.
+Vansittart glanced at her companion, and gave a little, low, wise
+laugh.
+
+
+“I did well to come to you,” she said, “for you have not many words.
+You have a sense of humour--that saving sense which so few people
+possess--and I suspect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic,
+which is still there, but in a modified degree. One is always more
+nervous for one's friends than for one's self. Is it not so? It is for
+Tony Cornish that I fear.”
+
+Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short
+silence.
+
+“I do not know why he stays in Holland, and I wish he would go home,”
+ continued Mrs. Vansittart. “It is unreasoning, I know, and foolish, but
+I am convinced that he is running into danger.” She stopped suddenly,
+and laid her hand upon Dorothy's; for she had caught many foreign ways
+and gestures. “Listen,” she said, in a lower tone. “It is useless for
+you and me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime,
+and Tony Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected
+that. I know Otto von Holzen. He killed my husband. He is a most
+dangerous man. He is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from
+here, and he does not understand the sort of person he is dealing with.
+One does not frighten persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man
+or woman. I have made Tony promise not to leave his room to-day. For
+to-morrow I cannot answer. You understand?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Dorothy, with a sudden light in her eyes, “I
+understand.”
+
+“Your brother must take care of himself. I care nothing for Lord
+Ferriby, or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish,
+for whom I have an affection, for he was part of my past life--when I
+was happy. As for the malgamiters, they and their works may--go hang!”
+ And Mrs. Vansittart snapped her fingers. “Do you know Major White?” she
+asked suddenly.
+
+“Yes; I have seen him once.”
+
+“So have I--only once. But for a woman once is often enough--is it not
+so?--to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here.”
+
+“He is coming,” answered Dorothy. “I think he is coming to-morrow. When
+I saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe
+he wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking
+him to come.”
+
+“Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent
+for reinforcements. When does Major White arrive--in the morning?”
+
+“No; not till the evening.”
+
+“Then he comes by Flushing,” said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. “You
+are thinking of something. What is it?”
+
+“I was wondering how I could see some of the malgamite workers
+to-morrow. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may
+be expected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple
+to make use of them.”
+
+ “Ah!” said Mrs. Vansittart, “you have guessed that, too. I have more
+than guessed it--I know it. You must see these men to-morrow.”
+
+“I will,” answered Dorothy, simply.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. “Yes,” she said, “I came to
+the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other,
+perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good night and come to lunch with
+me to-morrow.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+GRATITUDE.
+
+“On se guérit de la bienfaisance par la connaissance de ceux qu'on
+oblige.”
+
+
+“Can you tell me if there is a moon to-night?” Mrs. Vansittart asked a
+porter in the railway station at The Hague.
+
+The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was
+a serious one.
+
+“I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady,” he answered, with his
+hand at the peak of his cap.
+
+It was past nine o'clock, and Mrs. Vansittart had been waiting nearly
+half an hour for the Flushing train. Her carriage was walking slowly up
+and down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station.
+She had taken a ticket in order to gain access to the platform, and was
+almost alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled backwards and
+forwards between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the
+great arch of the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month
+of June still lingered, but the twilight was at hand. The Flushing
+train was late to-night of all nights; and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her
+foot with impatience. What was worse was Dorothy Roden's lateness.
+Dorothy and Mrs. Vansittart, like two generals on the eve of a battle,
+had been exchanging hurried notes all day; and Dorothy had promised to
+meet Mrs. Vansittart at the station on the arrival of the train.
+
+“The moon is rising now, my lady--a half-moon,” said the porter
+approaching with that leisureliness which characterizes railway porters
+between trains.
+
+“Why does your stupid train not come?” asked Mrs. Vansittart, with
+unreasoning anger.
+
+“It has been signalled, my lady; a few minutes now.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief, and turned on her heel.
+She had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw
+Dorothy coming up the slope to the platform. At last matters were
+taking a turn for the better--except, indeed, Dorothy's face, which was
+set and white.
+
+“I have found out something,” she said at once, and speaking quickly
+but steadily. “It is for to-night, between half-past nine and ten.”
+
+She had her watch in her hand, and compared it quickly with the station
+clock as she spoke.
+
+“I have secured Uncle Ben,” she said--all the ridicule of the name
+seemed to have vanished long ago. “He is drunk, and therefore cunning.
+It is only when he is sober that he is stupid. I have him in a cab
+downstairs, and have told your man to watch him. I have been to Mr.
+Cornish's rooms again, and he has not come in. He has not been in since
+morning, and they do not know where he is. No one knows where he is.”
+
+Dorothy's lip quivered for a moment, and she held it with her teeth.
+Mrs. Vansittart touched her arm lightly with her gloved fingers--a
+strange, quick, woman's gesture.
+
+“I went upstairs to his rooms,” continued Dorothy. “It is no good
+thinking of etiquette now or pretending----”
+
+“No,” said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never
+finished.
+
+“I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket.
+One in an uneducated hand--perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von
+Holzen's writing.”
+
+“Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing--addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at
+Scheveningen?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then Otto von Holzen knows where Tony is staying, at all events. We
+have learnt something. You have kept the envelopes?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+They both turned at the rumble of the train outside the station. The
+great engine came clanking in over the points, its lamp glaring like
+the eye of some monster.
+
+“Provided Major White is in the train,” muttered Mrs. Vansittart,
+tapping on the pavement with her foot. “If he is not in the train,
+Dorothy?”
+
+“Then we must go alone.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down.
+
+
+“You are a brave woman,” she said thoughtfully.
+
+But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small
+things as well as in great. They saw him pushing his way patiently
+through the crowd of hotel porters and others who had advice or their
+services to offer him. Then he saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and
+recognized them.
+
+“Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it
+straight to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere.”
+
+Still Major White was only in his normal condition of mild and patient
+surprise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart once, and Dorothy as often.
+He did exactly as he was told without asking one of those hundred
+questions which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more
+women under such circumstances, and followed the ladies out of the
+crowd.
+
+“We must talk here,” said Mrs. Vansittart. “One cannot do so in a
+carriage in the streets of The Hague.”
+
+Major White bowed gravely, and looked from one to the other. He was
+rather travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat.
+
+“Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to
+the malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question,
+however,” said Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be
+impatient with this placid man. “He has earned the enmity of Otto von
+Holzen--a man who will stop at nothing--and the malgamiters are being
+raised against him by Von Holzen. Our information is very vague, but we
+are almost certain that an attempt is to be made on Tony's life
+to-night between half-past nine and ten. You understand?” Mrs.
+Vansittart almost stamped her foot.
+
+“Oh yes,” answered White, looking at the station clock. “Twenty
+minutes' time.”
+
+“We have the information from one of the malgamiters themselves, who
+knows the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage
+outside the station.”
+
+“How tipsy?” asked Major White; and both his hearers shrugged their
+shoulders.
+
+“How can we tell you that?” snapped Mrs. Vansittart; and Major White
+dropped his glass from his eye.
+
+“Where is your brother?” he said, turning to Dorothy. He was evidently
+rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick-spoken person not likely
+to have patience with a slow man.
+
+“He has gone to Utrecht,” answered Dorothy. “And Mr. von Holzen is not
+at the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a
+lucky chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here.”
+
+White looked at Dorothy thoughtfully, and something in his gaze made
+her change colour.
+
+“Let me see this man,” he said, moving towards the exit.
+
+“He is in that carriage,” said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet
+corner of the station yard. “You must be quick. We have only a quarter
+of an hour now. He is an Englishman.”
+
+White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, and
+closed the door after him. In a few moments he emerged again.
+
+“Tell the man to drive to a chemist's,” he said to Mrs. Vansittart.
+“The fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will
+get more. Follow in your carriage--you and Miss Roden.”
+
+It was Major White's turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart
+meekly obeyed, though White's movements were so leisurely as to madden
+her.
+
+At the chemist's shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared
+to have some language in common with the druggist, for he presently
+returned to the carriage, carrying a tumbler. After a moment he went to
+the window of Mrs. Vansittart's neat brougham.
+
+“I must bring him in here,” he said. “You have a pair of horses which
+look as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station
+on the Dunes, wherever that may be.”
+
+Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben, whom he brought by one arm, in a
+dislocated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the major's
+long stride.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart's coachman must have received very decided orders, for
+he skirted the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from the
+streets into the quiet of the Wood, which was dark and deserted. Here,
+in a sandy and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The
+carriage swayed and bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time
+to time Major White shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his
+strenuous treatment.
+
+At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the
+little bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
+pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
+dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
+hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye,
+and looked round him with a measuring glance.
+
+“This place will be as light as day,” he said, “when the moon rises
+from behind those trees.”
+
+He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low
+voice. The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not
+stand without assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of
+heroic measures. He appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben
+pointed from time to time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When
+his mind, muddled with malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the
+occasion, Major White shook him like a sack. After a few minutes'
+conversation, Ben broke down completely, and sat against a sand-bank to
+weep. Major White left him there, and went towards the ladies.
+
+“Will you tell your man,” he said to Mrs. Vansittart, “to drive back to
+the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?” He
+paused, looking dubiously from one to the other. “And you and Miss
+Roden had better go back with him and stay in the carriage.”
+
+“No,” said Dorothy, quietly.
+
+“Oh no!” added Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration
+for the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension.
+
+“It seems,” he said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy
+stones, “that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly
+ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to
+work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the
+works at ten o'clock, when Roden is at Utrecht, and Von Holzen is out.
+There is no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to
+lie in ambush in a hollow of the Dunes, and knock him on the head about
+half a mile from here north-east.” And Major White paused in this great
+conversational effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his
+watch-chain.
+
+The two women waited patiently.
+
+“Fine place, these Dunes,” said the major, after a pause. “Could
+conceal three thousand men between here and Scheveningen.”
+
+“But it is not a question of hiding soldiers,” said Mrs. Vansittart,
+sharply, with a movement of the head indicative of supreme contempt.
+
+“No,” admitted White. “Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing
+here where everybody can see us. I'll fetch our friend. Think he'll
+sleep if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse.”
+
+“But haven't you any plans?” asked Mrs. Vansittart, in despair. “What
+are you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony
+Cornish? Surely you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis.”
+
+“Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know,” answered White, soothingly,
+as he moved away towards Uncle Ben. “But I think I know how this
+business ought to be managed. Come along--hide ourselves.”
+
+He led the way across the dunes, dragging Uncle Ben by one arm, and
+keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent
+sand.
+
+Once Major White paused and looked back. “Don't talk,” he said, holding
+up a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning, which he must
+have learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a
+bogey in the chimney.
+
+Once or twice he consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his
+compass. There was a certain skill in his attitude and demeanour, as if
+he knew exactly what he was about. Mrs. Vansittart had a hundred
+questions to ask him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly
+over the distant trees and flooded all the sand-hills with light. Major
+White halted his little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben
+in whispers. Then bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in
+their hiding-place, and went away by himself. He climbed almost to the
+summit of a neighbouring mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face
+uplifted, as if smelling something. Like many short-sighted persons, he
+had a keen scent. In a few minutes he came back again.
+
+“I have found them,” he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy.
+“Smelt 'em--like sealing-wax. Eleven of them--waiting there for
+Cornish.” And he smiled with a sort of boyish glee.
+
+“What are you going to do?” whispered Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+
+“Thump them,” he answered, and presently went back to his post of
+observation.
+
+Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side
+waiting in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from
+the sea. Dorothy shivered. They could hear certain notes of certain
+instruments in the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles
+away. It was strange to be within sound of such evidences of
+civilization, and yet in such a lonely spot--strange to reflect that
+eleven men were waiting within a few yards of them to murder one. And
+yet they could safely have carried out their intention, and have
+scraped a hole in the sand to hide his body, in the certainty that it
+would never be found; for these dunes are a miniature desert of Sahara,
+where nothing bids men leave the beaten paths, where certain hollows
+have probably never been trodden by the foot of man, and where the
+ever-drifting sand slowly accumulates--a very abomination of
+desolation.
+
+At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow
+of the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy
+ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White.
+
+Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the
+malgamiters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden
+from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them.
+
+Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittart's arm, and pointed silently in the
+direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the
+silvery sand-hills. It was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for
+him.
+
+Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere
+habit acquired among his men, he moistened the tips of his fingers at
+his lips.
+
+The malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a
+position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which
+Cornish must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a
+mound, and evidently reporting progress to his companions below. When
+Cornish was within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up
+the bank, and lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his
+comrades. He followed this vigorous attack by charging down into the
+confused mass. In a few moments the malgamiters streamed away across
+the sand-hills like a pack of hounds, though pursued and not pursuing.
+They left some of their number on the sand behind them, for White was a
+hard hitter.
+
+“Give it to them, Tony!” White cried, with a ring of exultation in his
+voice. “Knock 'em down as they come!”
+
+For there was only one path, and the malgamiters had to run the
+gauntlet of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough
+as they passed, selecting the big ones, and letting the others go free.
+He knew them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention
+readily enough.
+
+It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it,
+breathless and eager.
+
+“Oh, I wish I were a man!” exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched
+fists.
+
+They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path.
+White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round
+his arm with his other hand and his teeth.
+
+“It is nothing,” he said. “One of the devils had a knife. Must get my
+sleeve mended to-morrow.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+A REINFORCEMENT.
+
+“Prends moy telle que je suy.”
+
+
+When Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning,
+he found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun
+and the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the verandah
+made him look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by
+sunshine and trees, was Marguerite Wade, in a white dress, with demure
+lips, and the complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of
+youth--of that spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the
+strings of older hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which
+is really and honestly worth the living.
+
+Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major White's left
+eyebrow quivered for a moment in indication of his usual mild surprise
+at life and its changing surface.
+
+“Feeling pretty--bobbish?” inquired Marguerite, earnestly.
+
+White's eyebrow went right up and his glass fell.
+
+“Fairly bobbish, thank you,” he answered, looking at her with
+stupendous gravity.
+
+“You look all right, you know.”
+
+“You should never judge by appearances,” said White, with a fatherly
+severity.
+
+Marguerite pursed up her lips, and looked his stalwart frame up and
+down in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential
+manner, like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all
+the truth and more than the truth.
+
+“You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I
+knew you were in the hotel; saw your boots outside your door last
+night; knew they must be yours. You went to bed very early.”
+
+“I have two pairs of boots,” replied the major, darkly.
+
+“Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote
+for him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came.
+I told you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and
+that seems to be precisely where you are.”
+
+“Precisely.”
+
+“And so I have come over, and papa and I are going to put things
+straight.”
+
+“I shouldn't if I were you.”
+
+“Shouldn't what?” inquired Marguerite.
+
+“Shouldn't put other people's affairs straight. It does not pay,
+especially if other people happen to be up a gum-tree--make yourself
+all sticky, you know.”
+
+Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. “Ah!” she said. “That's what--is
+it?”
+
+“That's what,” admitted Major White.
+
+“That is the difference, I suppose, between a man and a woman,” said
+Marguerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid
+for two. “A man looks on at things going--well, to the dogs--and smokes
+and thinks it isn't his business. A woman thinks the whole world is her
+business.”
+
+“So it is, in a sense--it is her doing, at all events.”
+
+Marguerite had turned to beckon to the waiter, and she paused to look
+back over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes.
+
+“Ah!” she said mystically.
+
+Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him “Kellner,” and
+speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his
+native tongue.
+
+“I have told him,” she explained to White, “to bring your little
+coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to
+this table.”
+
+“So I understood.”
+
+“Ah! Then you know German?” inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful
+glance.
+
+“I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German.”
+
+Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver
+basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so
+different and taste so much alike.
+
+“Seems to me,” she said confidentially, “that you know more than you
+appear to know.”
+
+“Not such a fool as I look, in fact.”
+
+“That is about the size of it,” admitted Marguerite, gravely. “Tony
+always says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he
+is right.”
+
+And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across
+the little table.
+
+“Tony often is right,” said Major White.
+
+There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small
+coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt.
+The privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a
+certain pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.
+
+“Why is Tony so fond of The Hague? Who is Mrs. Vansittart?” she asked,
+without looking up.
+
+Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few minutes
+before answering.
+
+“Two questions don't make an answer.”
+
+“Not these two questions?” asked Marguerite, with a sudden laugh.
+
+“No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, and what they usually call
+'charming,' I believe. She is clever, yes, very clever, and she was, I
+suppose, fond of Vansittart; and that is the whole story, I take it.”
+
+“Not exactly a cheery story.”
+
+“No true stories are,” returned the major, gravely.
+
+But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdom--that huge wisdom of life
+as seen from the threshold--she did not believe Mrs. Vansittart's
+story.
+
+“Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the
+end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps
+Mrs. Vansittart--”
+
+
+“Won't do that,” said the major, staring in a stupid way out of the
+window with vacant, short-sighted eyes. “Not even if Tony suggested
+it--which he won't do.”
+
+“You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittart--that
+is what _you_ mean,” said Marguerite, condescendingly. “Then why does
+he stay in The Hague?”
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence,
+broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for
+more bread and more butter. She looked at her companion once or twice,
+and it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must
+be as dense as he looked. It is a mistake that many of her sex have
+made regarding men.
+
+“Do you know Miss Roden?” she asked suddenly.
+“I have heard a good deal about her from Joan.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Is she pretty?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Very pretty?” persisted Marguerite.
+
+“Yes,” replied the major.
+
+And they continued their breakfast in silence.
+
+Marguerite appeared to have something to think about. Major White was
+in the habit of stating that he never thought, and certainly
+appearances bore him out.
+
+“Your father is late,” he said at length.
+
+“Yes,” answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. “Because he was afraid to
+ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that
+Continental chambermaids always burst into your room if you ring the
+bell, whether the door is locked or not. He is nothing if not
+respectable, poor old dear--would give points to any bishop in the
+land.”
+
+As she spoke her father came into the room, looking, as his daughter
+had stated eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major
+White, and seemed pleased to see him. The major was, in truth, a man
+after his own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade
+belonged to a solid generation that liked the andante of life to be
+played in good heavy chords, and looked with suspicious eyes upon
+brilliancy of execution or lightness of touch.
+
+“I have had a note from Cornish,” he said, “who suggests a meeting at
+this hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side
+has, it appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to The Hague.”
+ There had in Mr. Wade's life usually been that “other side,” which he
+had treated with a good, honest respect so long as they proved
+themselves worthy of it; but which he crushed the moment they forgot
+themselves. For there was in this British banker a vast spirit of
+honest, open antagonism by which he and his likes have built up a
+scattered empire on this planet. “At three o'clock,” he concluded,
+lifting the cover of a silver dish which Marguerite had sent back to
+the kitchen awaiting her father's arrival. “And what will you do, my
+dear?” he said, turning to her.
+
+“I?” replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. “I shall take a
+carriage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes to see Dorothy Roden. I
+have a note for her from Joan.”
+
+And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way
+diminished by the knowledge that the “other side” were about to take
+action.
+
+At three o'clock the carriage was awaiting Marguerite at the door of
+the hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking
+questions and absolutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen
+by the side of the “Queen's Canal.” When at length she turned to get
+in, Tony Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for
+The Hague is the shadiest city in the world, with forest trees growing
+amid its great houses.
+
+“Ah!” said Marguerite, holding out her hand. “You see, I have come
+across to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have
+rather a spree.”
+
+“The spree,” replied Cornish, with his light laugh, “has already
+begun.”
+
+Marguerite drove away towards The Hague Wood, and disappeared among the
+transparent green shadows of that wonderful forest. The man had been
+instructed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden
+Road, making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest
+outskirts of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of
+a man sitting upon a bench at the roadside reading a sheet of paper.
+
+“That,” she said to herself, “is the Herr Professor--but I cannot
+remember his name.”
+
+Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed, a woman usually
+stops an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed
+to let such bygones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive
+back again. The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed.
+He had the air of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the
+solitude of his position and the poetic surroundings which he had
+selected. A German, be it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of
+the beauties of nature, and would rather drink his beer before a fine
+outlook than in a comfortable chair indoors. When Marguerite returned,
+this man looked up again with the absorbed air of one repeating
+something in his mind. When he perceived that she was undoubtedly
+coming towards himself, he stood up and took off his hat. He was a
+small, square-built man, with upright hair turning to grey, and a
+quiet, thoughtful, clean-shaven face. His attitude, and indeed his
+person, dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the
+great Napoleon. His measuring glance--as if the eyes were weighing the
+face it looked upon--distinctly suggested his great prototype.
+
+“You do not remember me, Herr Professor,” said Marguerite, holding out
+her hand with a frank laugh. “You have forgotten Dresden and the
+chemistry classes at Fräulein Weber's?”
+
+“No, Fräulein; I remember those classes,” the professor answered, with
+a grave bow.
+
+“And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the
+something of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein
+Herr.”
+
+“You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fräulein. Yes, I
+remember now--Fräulein Wade.”
+
+“Yes, I am Marguerite Wade,” she answered, looking at him with a little
+frown, “but I can't remember your name. You were always Herr Professor.
+And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry
+classes, you know; that was part of the--er--trick. We called water H2
+or something like that. We called you J.H.U, Herr Professor.”
+
+“What does that mean, Fräulein?”
+
+“Jolly hard up,” returned Marguerite, with a laugh which suddenly gave
+place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confidential gravity. “You
+were poor then, mein Herr.”
+
+“I have always been poor, Fräulein, until now.”
+
+But Marguerite's mind had already flown to other things. She was
+looking at him again with a frown of concentration.
+
+“I am beginning to remember your name,” she said.
+
+“Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite
+forgotten both your face and your name, Herr ... Herr ... von Holz”--she
+broke off, and stepped back from him--“von Holzen,” she said slowly. “Then
+you are the malgamite man?”
+
+“Yes, Fräulein,” he answered, with his grave smile; “I am the malgamite
+man.”
+
+Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of
+the Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that
+came near him, against whom her own father and Tony Cornish and
+Major White and Mrs. Vansittart had been able to do nothing--who in
+face of all opposition continued calmly to make malgamite, and sell it
+daily to the world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of
+men's lives.
+
+“And you, Fräulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade, the banker?”
+
+“Yes,” she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again,
+standing before her master.
+
+“And why are you in The Hague?”
+
+“Oh,” replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her
+life, “to enlarge our minds, mein Herr.” She was looking at the paper
+he held in his hand, and he saw the direction of her glance. In
+response, he laughed quietly, and held it out towards her.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the
+prescription for the manufacture of malgamite.”
+
+She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual
+audacity, she opened it and began to read.
+
+“Ah,” she said, “it is in Hebrew.”
+
+Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which
+she gave to him. She was not afraid of the man--but she was very near
+to fear.
+
+“And I am sitting here, quietly under the trees, Fräulein,” he said,
+“learning it by heart.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT.
+
+“Un homme sérieux est celui qui se croit regardé.”
+
+
+When Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden's earnest desire that he
+should go to The Hague, he was conscious of conferring a distinct
+favour upon the Low Countries.
+
+“It is not a place one would choose to go to at this time of year,” he
+said to a friend at the club. “In the winter, it is different; for the
+season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals.”
+
+One of the numerous advantages attached to an hereditary title is the
+certainty that a hearer of some sort or another will always be
+forthcoming. A commoner finds himself snubbed or quietly abandoned so
+soon as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and platitudes is
+sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready
+and willing to be bored by a lord. A high-class club is, moreover, a
+very mushroom-bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have traveled
+quite a distance down the road of life, without finding out that it is
+bordered on either side by a series of small events not worth
+commenting upon, meet to discuss trivialities.
+
+“Truth is,” said his lordship to one of these persons, “this Malgamite
+scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and
+carries with it certain responsibilities--yes, certain responsibilities.”
+
+And he assumed a grave air of importance almost amounting to worry. For
+Lord Ferriby did not know that a worried look is an almost certain
+indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the
+greatest responsibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the
+burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world.
+
+It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at
+all uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one
+of the advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and
+willing to serve his party without too minute a scruple. For if the
+king can do no wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity
+from criticism, and those who have allowance made to them must
+inevitably learn to make allowance for themselves. Lord Ferriby was, in
+a word, too self-satisfied to harbour any doubts respecting his own
+conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of course, indolence in disguise.
+
+It was easy enough for Lord Ferriby to persuade himself that Cornish
+was wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most
+gentlemanly manner possible, paid a cheque, not to Lord Ferriby direct,
+but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus
+upon the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There
+are many people in the world who will accept money so long as their
+delicate susceptibilities are not offended by an actual sight of the
+cheque.
+
+“Anthony Cornish,” said Lord Ferriby, pulling down his waistcoat, “like
+many men who have had neither training nor experience, does not quite
+understand the ethics of commerce.”
+
+His lordship, like others, seemed to understand these to mean that a
+man may take anything that his neighbour is fool enough to part with.
+
+Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because, in the great
+march of social progress, she had passed on from charity to sanitation,
+and was convinced that the mortality among the malgamiters, which had
+been more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was entirely due
+to the negligence of the victims in not using an old disinfectant
+served up in artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash
+under another name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform
+greater sanitary wonders, because the world places faith in a new name,
+and faith is still the greatest healer of human ills.
+
+Joan, therefore, proposed to carry to The Hague the glad tidings of the
+sanitary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering
+world under the name of “Nuxine,” in small bottles, at the price of one
+shilling and a penny halfpenny. The penny halfpenny, no doubt,
+represented the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon
+securing the stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the
+manufacturer's pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joan's world
+to smell of “Nuxine,” which could also be had in the sweetest little
+blue tabloids, to place in the wardrobe and among one's clean clothes.
+Joan had given Major White a box of these tabloids, which gift had been
+accepted with becoming gravity. Indeed, the major seemed never to tire
+of hearing Joan's exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as
+she urged him to use “Nuxine” in its various forms, and it was only
+when he heard that cigar-holders made of “Nuxine” absorbed all the
+deleterious properties of tobacco that his stout heart failed him.
+
+“Yes,” he pleaded, “but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue
+cigar-holder, you know.”
+
+And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none
+other than “Nuxine” dentifrice.
+
+Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to The Hague, his lordship in
+the full conviction (enjoyed by so many useless persons) that his
+presence was in itself of beneficial effect upon the course of events,
+and Joan with her “Nuxine” and, in a minor degree now, her
+“Malgamiters” and her “Haberdashers' Assistants.” Lady Ferriby
+preferred to remain at Cambridge Terrace, chiefly because it was
+cheaper, and also because the cook required a holiday, and, with a
+kitchen-maid only, she could indulge in her greatest pleasure--a
+useless economy. The cook refused to starve her fellow-servants, while
+the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written character in the future, did as
+her ladyship bade her--hashing and mincing in a manner quite
+irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer money.
+
+Major White met the travellers at The Hague station, and Joan, who had
+had some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was
+conscious for the first time of a sense of orderliness and rest in the
+presence of the stout soldier, who seemed to walk heavily over
+difficulties when they arose.
+
+“Eh--er,” began his lordship, as they walked down the platform, “have
+you seen anything of Roden?”
+
+For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred a man to b keenly observant, and
+had as yet failed to detect Von Holzen behind and overshadowing his
+partner in the Malgamite scheme.
+
+“No--cannot say I have,” replied the major.
+
+He had never discussed the malgamite affairs with Lord Ferriby.
+Discussion was, indeed, a pastime in which the major never indulged.
+His position in the matter was clearly enough defined, but he had no
+intention of explaining why it was that he ranged himself stolidly on
+Cornish's side in the differences that had arisen.
+
+Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a smouldering antagonism, but knew
+the major sufficiently well not to fear an outbreak of hostilities. Men
+who will face opposition may be divided into two classes--the one
+taking its stand upon a conscious rectitude, the other half-hiding with
+the cheap and transparent cunning of the ostrich. Many men, also, are
+in the fortunate condition of believing themselves to be invariably
+right unless they are told quite plainly that they are wrong. And there
+was nobody to tell Lord Ferriby this. Cornish, with a sort of respect
+for the head of the family--a regard for the office irrespective of its
+holder--was so far from wishing to convince his uncle of error that he
+voluntarily relinquished certain strong points in his position rather
+than strike a blow that would inevitably reach Lord Ferriby, though
+directed towards Roden or Von Holzen.
+
+Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were
+in The Hague.
+
+“A worthy man--a very worthy man,” he said abstractedly; for he looked
+upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain
+minds by uncompromising honesty.
+
+The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared
+for them. There were flowers in Joan's room, which her maid said she
+had rearranged, so awkwardly had they been placed in the vase. The
+Wades, it appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not
+returning to lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that
+meal at Mrs. Vansittart's.
+
+“I think,” said Lord Ferriby, “that I shall go down to the works.”
+
+“Yes, do,” answered White, with an expressionless countenance.
+
+“Perhaps you will accompany me?” suggested Joan's father.
+
+“No--think not. Can't hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like to
+see the Palace in the Wood.”
+
+Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the malgamite works, and
+murmured the word “Nuxine,” without, however, much enthusiasm; but
+White happened to remember that it was mixing-day. So Lord Ferriby went
+off alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the
+first; for White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did
+Cornish.
+
+The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no
+doubt, satisfactory enough, for the manufacture of malgamite had been
+proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Holzen had, as he told
+Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-master.
+He was not going to be poor again. The grey carts had been passing up
+and down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or
+other of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house,
+a gleam of anger to Mrs. Vansittart's eyes.
+
+“The scoundrels!” she muttered. “The scoundrels! Why does not Tony
+act?”
+
+But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's
+determination not to be frustrated, could not act--for Dorothy's sake.
+
+A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party
+assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and
+Mr. Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in
+this city of large and spotless windows. Dorothy and Cornish were
+talking together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was
+supposed to be looking at a book of photographs.
+
+“There goes a consignment of men's lives,” said Mrs. Vansittart to her
+companion.
+
+“A human life, madam,” answered the banker, “like all else on earth,
+varies much in value.” For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of
+Englishmen which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak
+its good actions by the assumption of an unworthy motive. And who shall
+say that this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us
+has not a few friends and relations who can only have been created as a
+solemn warning?
+
+As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined
+them, slipping her hand within her father's arm with that air of
+protection which she usually assumed towards him. She was gay and
+lively, as she ever was, and Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her more than
+once with a sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always
+understand Marguerite or her English, which was essentially modern.
+
+They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly
+drew them back.
+
+“What is it?” asked Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+“It is Lord Ferriby,” replied Marguerite.
+
+And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great
+man drive past in his hired carriage. “He has recently bought Park
+Straat,” commented Marguerite.
+
+And his lordship's condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that
+the street, if not the whole city, belonged to him.
+
+Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb in the direction in which Lord
+Ferriby was driving.
+
+“Where is he going?” he asked bluntly.
+
+“To the malgamite works,” replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance.
+And Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first.
+
+“I asked Major White,” she said, “to lunch with us to-day, but he was
+pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see
+them installed at their hotel.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mr. Wade.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy,
+allowed some moments to elapse before she again spoke.
+
+“Major White,” she then observed, “does not accompany Lord Ferriby to
+the malgamite works.”
+
+“Major White,” replied Marguerite, demurely, “has other fish to fry.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+CLEARING THE AIR
+
+“It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be entirely good.”
+
+
+Percy Roden, who had been to Utrecht and Antwerp, arrived home on the
+evening of the day that saw Lord Ferriby's advent to The Hague. Though
+the day had been fine enough, the weather broke up at sunset, and great
+clouds chased the sun towards the west. Then the rain came suddenly and
+swept across the plains in a slanting fury. A cold wind from the
+south-east followed hard upon the heavy clouds, and night came in a
+chaos of squall and beating rain. Roden was drenched in his passage
+from the carriage to the Villa des Dunes, which, being a summer
+residence, had not been provided with a carriage-drive across the dunes
+from the road. He looked at his sister with tired eyes when she met him
+in the entrance-hall. He was worn and thinner than she had seen him in
+the days of his adversity, for Percy Roden, like his partner, had made
+several false starts upon the road to fortune before he got well away.
+Like many--like, indeed, nearly all--who have to try again, he had
+lightened himself of a scruple or so each time he turned back.
+Prosperity, however, seems to kill as many as adversity. Abundant
+wealth is a vexation of spirit to-day as surely as it was in the time
+of that wise man who, having tried it, said that a stranger eateth it,
+and it is vanity.
+
+“Beastly night,” said Roden, and that was all. He had been to Antwerp
+on banking business, and had that sleepless look which brings a glitter
+to the eyes. This was a man handling great sums of money. “Von Holzen
+been here to-day?” he asked, when he had changed his clothes, and they
+were seated at the dinner-table.
+
+“No,” answered Dorothy, with her eyes on his plate.
+
+He was eating little, and drank only mineral water from a stone bottle.
+He was like an athlete in training, though the strain he sought to meet
+was mental and not physical. He shivered more than once, and glanced
+sharply at the door when the maid happened to leave it open.
+
+When Dorothy went to the drawing-room she lighted the fire, which was
+ready laid, and of wood. Although it was nearly midsummer, the air was
+chilly, and the rain beat against the thin walls of the house.
+
+“I think it probable,” Roden had said, before she left the dining-room,
+“that Von Holzen will come in this evening.”
+
+She sat down before the fire, which burnt briskly, and looked into it
+with thoughtful, clever grey eyes. Percy thought it probable that Von
+Holzen would come to the Villa des Dunes this evening. Would he come?
+For Percy knew nothing of the organized attempt on Cornish's life which
+she herself had frustrated. He seemed to know nothing of the grim and
+silent antagonism that existed between the two men, shutting his eyes
+to their movements, which were like the movements of chess-players that
+the onlooker sees but does not understand. Dorothy knew that Von Holzen
+was infinitely cleverer than her brother. She knew, indeed, that he was
+cleverer than most men. With the quickness of her sex, she had long ago
+divined the source and basis of his strength. He was indifferent to
+women--who formed no part of his life, who entered in no way into his
+plans or ambitions. Being a woman, she should, theoretically, have
+disliked and despised him for this. As a matter of fact, the
+characteristic commanded her respect.
+
+She knew that her brother was not in Von Holzen's confidence. It was
+probable that no man on earth had ever come within measurable distance
+of that. He would, in all likelihood, hear nothing of the attempt to
+kill Cornish, and Cornish himself would be the last to mention it. For
+she knew that her lover was a match for Von Holzen, and more than a
+match. She had never doubted that. It was a part of her creed. A woman
+never really loves a man until she has made him the object of a creed.
+And it is only the man himself who can--and in the long run usually
+does--make it impossible for her to adhere to her belief.
+
+She was still sitting and thinking over the fire when her brother came
+into the room.
+
+“Ah!” he said at the sight of the fire, and came forward, holding out
+his hands to the blaze. He looked down at his sister with glittering
+and unsteady eyes. He was in a dangerous humour--a humour for
+explanations and admissions--to which weak natures sometimes give way.
+And, looking at the matter practically and calmly, explanations and
+admissions are better left--to the hereafter. But Von Holzen saved him
+by ringing the front-door bell at that moment.
+
+The professor came into the room a minute later. He stood in the
+doorway, and bowed in the stiff German way to Dorothy. With Roden he
+exchanged a curt nod. His hair was glued to his temples by the rain,
+which gleamed on his face.
+
+“It is an abominable night,” he said, coming forward. “Ach, Fräulein,
+please do not leave us--and the fire,” he added; for Dorothy had risen.
+“I merely came to make sure that he had arrived safely home.” He took
+the chair offered to him by Roden, and sat on it without bringing it
+forward. He had but little of that self-assurance which is so highly
+cultivated to-day as to be almost offensive. “There are, of course,
+matters of business,” he said, “which can wait till to-morrow.
+To-night you are tired.” He looked at Roden as a doctor may look at a
+patient. “Is it not so, Fräulein?” he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Except one or two--which we may discuss now.”
+
+Dorothy turned and glanced at him. He was looking at her, and their
+eyes met for a moment. He seemed to see something in her face that made
+him thoughtful, for he remained silent for some time, while he wiped
+the rain from his face with his pocket-handkerchief. It was a pale,
+determined face, which could hardly fail to impress those with whom he
+came in contact as the face of a strong man.
+
+“Lord Ferriby has been at the works to-day,” he said; and then, with a
+gesture of the hands and a shrug, he described Lord Ferriby as a
+nonentity. “He went through the works, and looked over your books. I
+wrote out a sort of certificate of his satisfaction with both, and--he
+signed it.”
+
+Roden was leaning forward over the fire with a cigarette between his
+lips. He nodded shortly. “Good,” he said.
+
+“Yesterday,” continued Von Holzen, “I met an old acquaintance--a Miss
+Wade--one of the young ladies of a Pensionnat at Dresden, in which I
+taught at one time. She is a daughter of the banker Wade, and told me,
+reluctantly, that she is at The Hague with her father--a friend of
+Cornish's. This morning I took a walk on the sands at Scheveningen;
+there was a large fat man, among others, bathing at the Northern
+bathing-station. It was Major White. It is a regular gathering of the
+clans. I saw a German paper-maker--a big man in the trade--on the
+Kursaal terrace this morning. It may be a mere chance, and it may not.”
+
+As he spoke he had withdrawn from his pocket a folded paper, which he
+was fingering thoughtfully. Dorothy, who knew that she had by her looks
+unwittingly warned him, made no motion to go now. He would say nothing
+that he did not deliberately intend for her ears as much as for her
+brother's. Von Holzen opened the paper slowly, and looked at it as if
+every line of it was familiar. It was a sheet of ordinary foolscap
+covered with minute figures and writing.
+
+“It is the Vorschrift, the--how do you say?--prescription for the
+malgamite, and there are several in The Hague at this moment who want
+it, and some who would not be too scrupulous in their methods of
+procuring it. It is for this that they are gathering--here in The
+Hague.”
+
+Roden turned in his leisurely way, and looked over his shoulder towards
+the paper. Von Holzen glanced at Dorothy. He had no desire to keep her
+in suspense, but he wished to know how much she knew. She looked into
+the fire, treating his conversation as directed towards her brother
+only.
+
+“I tried for ten years in vain to get this,” continued Von Holzen, “and
+at last a dying man dictated it to me. For years it lived in the brain
+of one man only--and he a maker of it himself. He might have died at
+any moment with that secret in his head. And I,”--he folded the paper
+slowly and shrugged his shoulders--“I watched him. And the last
+intelligible word he spoke on earth was the last word of this
+prescription. The man can have been no fool; for he was a man of little
+education. I never respected him so much as I do now when I have learnt
+it myself.” He rose and walked to the fire. “You permit me, Fräulein,”
+ he said, putting the logs together with his foot.
+
+They burnt up brightly, and he threw the paper upon them. In a moment
+it was reduced to ashes. He turned slowly upon his heel, and looked at
+his companions with the grave smile of one who had never known much
+mirth.
+
+“There,” he said, touching his forehead, with one finger; “it is in
+the brain of one man--once more.” He returned to the chair he had just
+vacated. “And whosoever wishes to stop the manufacture of malgamite
+will need to stop that brain,” he said, with a soft laugh. “Of course
+there is a risk attached to burning that paper,” he continued, after a
+pause. “My brain may go--a little clot of blood no bigger than a pin's
+head, and the greatest brain on earth is so much pulp! It may be worth
+some one's while to kill me. It is so often worth some one's while to
+kill somebody else, even at a considerable risk--but the courage is
+nearly always lacking. However, we must run these risks.”
+
+He rose from his chair with a low and rather pleasant laugh, glancing
+at the clock as he did so. It was evidently his intention to take his
+leave. Dorothy rose also, and they stood for a moment facing each
+other. He was a few inches above her stature, and he looked down at her
+with his slow, thoughtful eyes. He seemed always to be making a
+diagnosis of the souls of men.
+
+“I know, Fräulein,” he said, “That you are one of those who dislike me,
+and seek to do me harm. I am sorry. It is long since I discarded a
+youthful belief that it was possible to get on in life without arousing
+ill feeling. Believe me, it is impossible even to hold one's own in
+this world without making enemies. There are two sides to every
+question, Fräulein--remember that.”
+
+He brought his heels together, bowed stiffly, from the waist, in his
+formal manner, and left the room. Percy Roden followed him, leaving the
+door open. Dorothy heard the rustle of his dripping waterproof as he
+put it on, the click of the door, the sound of his firm retreating
+tread on the gravel. Then her brother came back into the room. His
+rather weak face was flushed. His eyes were unsteady. Dorothy saw this
+in a glance, and her own face hardened unresponsively. The situation
+was clearly enough defined in her own mind. Von Holzen had destroyed
+the prescription before her on purpose. It was only a move in that game
+of life which is always extending to a new deal, and of which women as
+onlookers necessarily see the most. Von Holzen wished Cornish, and
+others concerned, to know that he had destroyed the prescription. It
+was a concession in disguise--a retrograde movement--perhaps _pour
+mieux sauter_.
+
+Percy Roden was one of those men who have a grudge against the world.
+The most hopeless ill-doer is he who excuses himself angrily. There are
+some who seem unconscious of their own failings, and for these there is
+hope. They may some day find out that it is better to be at peace with
+the world even at the cost of a little self-denial. But Percy Roden
+admitted that he was wrong, and always had that sort of excuse which
+seeks to lay the blame upon a whole class--upon other business men, upon
+those in authority, upon women.
+
+“It is excused in others, why not in me?”--the last cry of the
+ne'er-do-well.
+
+He glanced angrily at Dorothy now. But he was always half afraid of
+her.
+
+“I wish we had never come to this place,” he said.
+
+“Then let us go away from it,” answered Dorothy, “before it is too
+late.”
+
+Roden looked at her in surprise. Did she expect him to go away now from
+Mrs. Vansittart? He knew, of course, that Dorothy and the world always
+expected too much from him.
+
+“Before it is too late. What do you mean?” he asked, still thinking of
+Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+“Before the Malgamite scheme is exposed,” replied Dorothy, bluntly.
+And, to her surprise, he laughed.
+
+“I thought you meant something else,” he said. “The Malgamite scheme
+can look after itself. Von Holzen is the cleverest man I know, and he
+knows what he is doing. I thought you meant Mrs. Vansittart--were
+thinking of her.”
+
+“No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Vansittart.”
+
+“Not worth thinking about,” suggested Roden, adhering to his method of
+laughing for fear of being laughed at, which is common enough in very
+young men; but Roden should have outgrown it by this time.
+
+“Not seriously.”
+
+“What do you mean, Dorothy?”
+
+“That I hope you do not think seriously of asking Mrs. Vansittart to
+marry you.”
+
+Roden gave his rather unpleasant laugh again. “It happens that I do,”
+ he replied. “And it happens that I know that Mrs. Vansittart never
+stays in The Hague in summer when all the houses are empty and
+everybody is away, and the place is given up to tourists, and becomes a
+mere annex to Scheveningen. This year she has stayed--why, I should
+like to know.”
+
+And he stroked his moustache as he looked into the fire. He had been
+indulging in the vain pleasure of putting two and two together. A young
+man's vanity--or indeed any man's vanity--is not to be trusted to work
+out that simple addition correctly. Percy Roden was still in a
+dangerously exalted frame of mind. There is no intoxication so
+dangerous as that of success, and none that leaves so bitter a taste
+behind it.
+
+“Of course,” he said, “no girl ever thinks that her brother can succeed
+in such a case. I suppose you dislike Mrs. Vansittart?”
+
+“No; I like her, and I understand her, perhaps better than you do. I
+should like nothing better than that she should marry you, but----”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“Well, ask her,” replied Dorothy--a woman's answer.
+
+“And then?”
+
+“And then let us go away from here.”
+
+Roden turned on her angrily. “Why do you keep on repeating that?” he
+cried. “Why do you want to go away from here?”
+
+“Because,” replied Dorothy, as angry as himself, “you know as well as I
+do that the Malgamite scheme is not what it pretends to be. I suppose
+you are making a fortune and are dazzled, or else you are being
+deceived by Herr von Holzen, or else----”
+
+“Or else----” echoed Roden, with a pale face. “Yes--go on.” But she bit
+her lip and was silent. “It is an open secret,” she went on after a
+pause. “Everybody knows that it is a disgrace or worse--perhaps a
+crime. If you have made a fortune, be content with what you have made,
+and clear yourself of the whole affair.”
+
+“Not I.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Because I am going to make more. And I am going to marry Mrs.
+Vansittart. It is only a question of money. It always is with women.
+And not one in a hundred cares how the money is made.”
+
+Which, of course, is not true; for no woman likes to see her husband's
+name on a biscuit or a jam-pot.
+
+“Of course,” went on Percy, in his anger. “I know which side you take,
+since you are talking of open secrets. At any rate, Von Holzen knows
+yours--if it is a secret--for he has hinted at it more than once.
+You think that it is I who have been deceived or who deceive myself.
+You are just as likely to be wrong. You place your whole faith in
+Cornish. You think that Cornish cannot do wrong.”
+
+Dorothy turned and looked at him. Her eyes were steady, but the color
+left her face, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say.
+
+“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
+
+“And without a moment's hesitation,” went on Roden, hurriedly, “you
+would sacrifice everything for the sake of a man you had never seen six
+months ago?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Even your own brother?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Dorothy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE ULTIMATUM.
+
+“Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est celui qui
+sait attendre.”
+
+
+“If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear,” said
+Marguerite Wade, sententiously, “that is exactly where your toes turn
+in.”
+
+She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly
+veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready
+to throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the
+quiet old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees,
+within the peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major
+White was sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light
+tweed suit and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago,
+but no man surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which
+distinguishes men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from
+time to time glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at
+Joan.
+
+“Major White,” said Marguerite.
+“Yes.”
+
+“Greengage, please.”
+
+The greengages were on a table at the major's elbow, having been placed
+there at Marguerite's command by the waiter who attended them at
+breakfast. White made ready to pass the dish.
+
+“Fingers,” said Marguerite. “Heave one over.”
+
+White selected one with an air of solemn resignation. Marguerite caught
+the greengage as neatly as it was thrown.
+
+“What do you think of Herr von Holzen?” she asked.
+
+“To think,” replied the Major, “certain requisites are necessary.”
+
+“Um--m.”
+
+“I do not know Herr von Holzen, and I have nothing to think with,” he
+explained gravely.
+
+“Well, you soon will know him, and I dare say if you tried you would
+find that you are not so stupid as you pretend to be. You are going
+down to the works this morning with Papa and Tony Cornish. I know that,
+because papa told me.”
+
+The Major looked at her with his air of philosophic surprise. She held
+up her hand for a catch, and with resignation he threw her another
+greengage.
+
+“Tony is going to call for you in a carriage at ten o'clock, and you
+three old gentlemen are going to drive in an open barouche with cigars,
+like a bean feast, to the malgamite works.”
+
+“The description is fairly accurate,” admitted Major White, without
+looking up from his paper.
+
+“And I imagine you are going to raise--Hail Columbia!”
+
+He looked at her severely through his glass, and said nothing. She
+nodded in a friendly and encouraging manner, as if to intimate that he
+had her entire approval.
+
+“Take my word for it,” she continued, turning to Joan, “Herr von Holzen
+is a shady customer. I know a shady customer when I see him. I never
+thought much of the malgamite business, you know, but unfortunately
+nobody asked my opinion on the matter. I wonder----” She paused,
+looking thoughtfully at Major White, who presently met her glance with
+a stolid stare. “Of course!” she said, in a final voice. “I forgot.
+You never think. You can't. Oh no!”
+
+“It is so easy to misjudge people,” pleaded Joan, earnestly.
+
+“It is much easier to see right through them, straight off, in the
+twinkling of a bedpost,” asserted Marguerite. “You will see, Herr von
+Holzen is wrong and Tony is right. And Tony will smash him up.
+You will see. Tony”--she paused, and looked up at the roof where the
+doves were cooing--“Tony knows his way about.”
+
+Major White rose and laid aside his paper. Mr. Wade was coming down the
+iron steps that led from the verandah to the garden. The banker was
+cutting a cigar, and wore a placid, comfortable look, as if he had
+breakfasted well. Even as regards kidneys and bacon in a foreign hotel,
+where there is a will there is a way, and Marguerite possessed tongues.
+“I'll turn this place inside out,” she had said, “to get the old thing
+what he wants.” Then she attacked the waiter in fluent German.
+
+Marguerite noted his approach with a protecting eye. “It's all solid
+common sense,” she said in an undertone to Joan, referring, it would
+appear, to his bulk.
+
+In only one respect was she misinformed as to the arrangements for the
+morning. Tony Cornish was not coming to the hotel to fetch Mr. Wade and
+White, but was to meet them in the shadiest of all thoroughfares and
+green canals, the Koninginne Gracht, where at midday the shadows cast
+by the great trees are so deep that daylight scarcely penetrates, and
+the boats creep to and fro like shadows. This amendment had been made
+in view of the fact that Lord Ferriby was in the hotel, and was,
+indeed, at this moment partaking of a solemn breakfast in his private
+sitting-room overlooking the Toornoifeld.
+
+His lordship did not, therefore, see these two solid pillars of the
+British constitution walk across the corner of the Korte Voorhout,
+cigar in lip, in a placid silence begotten, perhaps, of the knowledge
+that, should an emergency arise, they were of a material that would
+arise to meet it.
+
+Cornish was awaiting them by the bank of the canal. He was watching a
+boat slowly work its way past him. It was one of the large boats built
+for traffic on the greater canals and the open waters of the Scheldt
+estuary. It was laden from end to end with little square boxes bearing
+only a number and a port mark in black stencil. A pleasant odor of
+sealing-wax dominated the weedy smell of the canal.
+
+“Wherever you turn you meet the stuff,” was Cornish's greeting to the
+two Englishmen.
+
+Major White, with his delicate sense of smell, sniffed the breeze. Mr.
+Wade looked at the canal-boat with a nod. Commercial enterprise, and,
+above all, commercial success, commanded his honest respect.
+
+They entered the carriage awaiting them beneath the trees. Cornish was,
+as usual, quick and eager, a different type from his companions, who
+were not brilliant as he was, nor polished.
+
+They found the gates of the malgamite works shut, but the door-keeper,
+knowing Cornish to be a person of authority, threw them open and
+directed the driver to wait outside till the gentlemen should return.
+The works were quiet and every door was closed.
+
+“Is it mixing-day?” asked Cornish.
+
+“Every day is mixing-day now, mein Herr, and there are some who work
+all night as well. If the gentlemen will wait a moment, I will seek
+Herr Roden.”
+
+And he left them standing beneath the brilliant sun in the open space
+between the gate and the cottage where Von Holzen lived. In a few
+moments he returned, accompanied by Percy Roden, who emerged from the
+office in his shirt-sleeves, pen in hand. He shook hands with Cornish
+and White, glanced at Mr. Wade, and half bowed. He did not seem glad to
+see them.
+
+“We want to look at your books,” said Cornish. “I suppose you will make
+no objection?” Roden bit his moustache and looked at the point of his
+pen.
+
+“You and Major White?” he suggested.
+
+“And this gentleman, who comes as our financial advisor.”
+
+Roden raised his eyebrows rather insolently. “Ah--may I ask who this
+gentleman is?” he said.
+
+“My name is Wade,” answered the banker, characteristically for himself.
+
+Roden's face changed, and he glanced at the great financier with a keen
+interest.
+
+“I have no objection,” he said after a moment's hesitation. “If Von
+Holzen will agree. I will go and ask him.”
+
+And they were left alone in the sunshine once more. Mr. Wade watched
+Roden as he walked towards the factory.
+
+“Not the sort of man I expected,” he commented. “But he has the right
+shaped head for figures. He is shrewd enough to know that he cannot
+refuse, so gives in with a good grace.”
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen approached them, emerging from the factory
+alone. He bowed politely, but did not offer to shake hands. He had not
+seen Cornish since the evening when he had offered to make malgamite
+before him, and the experiment had taken such a deadly turn. He looked
+at him now and found his glance returned by an illegible smile. The
+question flashed through his mind and showed itself on his face as to
+why Roden had made such a mistake as to introduce a man like this into
+the Malgamite scheme. Von Holzen invited the gentlemen into the office.
+“It is small, but it will accommodate us,” he said, with a smile.
+
+He drew forward chairs, and offered one to Cornish in particular, with
+a grim deference. He seemed to have divined that their last meeting in
+this same office had been, by tacit understanding, kept a secret.
+There is for some men a certain satisfaction in antagonism, and a stern
+regard for a strong foe--which reached its culmination, perhaps, in
+that Saxon knight who desired to be buried in the same chapel as his
+lifelong foe--between him, indeed, and the door--so that at the
+resurrection day they should not miss each other.
+
+Von Holzen seemed to have somewhat of this feeling for Cornish. He
+offered him the best seat at the table. Roden was taking his books from
+a safe--huge ledgers bound in green pigskin, slim cash-books,
+cloth-bound journals. He named them as he laid them on the table before
+Mr. Wade. Major White looked at the great tomes with solemn and silent
+awe. Mr. Wade was already fingering his gold pencil-case. He eyed the
+closed books with an anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his face--as a
+commander may eye the arrayed squadrons of the foe.
+
+“It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in
+confidence?” said Von Holzen. “For your own satisfaction, and not in
+any sense for publication. It is a trade secret.”
+
+“Of course,” answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
+“We trust to the honor of these gentlemen.”
+
+Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes.
+“Yes,” he said.
+
+Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the
+iron mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the
+table--especially at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face
+wore a careless smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness
+of the books testified to the fact that he always worked in
+shirt-sleeves. It was a trick of the trade, which exonerated him from
+the necessity of apologizing.
+
+Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with
+his fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed
+to recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet
+of neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
+unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
+
+“Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March,” he said.
+
+Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were
+like copper-plate--an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
+final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid
+it aside. Then, he turned to the slim cash-books, which he glanced at
+casually. The journals he set aside without opening. He handled the
+books with a sort of skill showing that he knew how to lift them with
+the least exertion, how to open them and close them and turn their
+stiff pages. The enormous mass of figures did not seem to appal him;
+the maze was straight enough beneath such skillful eyes. Finally, he
+turned to a small locked ledger, of which the key was attached to
+Roden's watch-chain, who came forward and unlocked the book. Mr. Wade
+turned to the index at the beginning of the volume, found a certain
+account, and opened the book there. At the sight of the figures he
+raised his eyebrow and glanced up at Roden.
+
+“Whew!” he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He had arrived at his
+destination--had torn the heart out of these great books. All in the
+room were watching his placid, shrewd old face. He studied the books
+for some time and then took a sheet of blank paper from a number of
+such attached by a string to a corner of the table. He reflected for
+some minutes, pushing the movable part of his gold pencil in and out
+pensively as he did so. Then he wrote a number of figures on the sheet
+of paper and handed it to Cornish. He closed the locked ledger with a
+snap. The audit of the malgamite books was over.
+
+“It is a wonderful piece of single-handed bookkeeping,” he said to
+Roden.
+
+Cornish was studying the paper set before him by the banker. The
+proceedings seemed to have been prearranged, for no word was exchanged.
+There was no consultation on either side. Finally, Cornish folded the
+paper and tore it into a hundred pieces in scrupulous adherence to Von
+Holzen's conditions. Mr. Wade was sitting back in his chair
+thoughtfully amusing himself with his gold pencil-case. Cornish looked
+at him for a moment, and then spoke, addressing Von Holzen.
+
+“We came here to make a final proposal to you,” he said; “to place
+before you, in fact, our ultimatum. We do not pretend to conceal from
+you the fact that we are anxious to avoid all publicity, all scandal.
+But if you drive us to it, we shall unhesitatingly face both in order
+to close these works. We do not want the Malgamite scheme to be dragged
+as a charity in the mud, because it will inevitably drag other
+charities with it. There are certain names connected with the scheme
+which we should prefer; moreover, to keep from the clutches of the
+cheaper democratic newspapers. We know the weakness of our position.
+
+“And we know the strength of ours,” put in Von Holzen, quietly.
+
+“Yes. We recognize that also. You have hitherto slipped in between
+international laws, and between the laws of men. Legally, we should
+have difficulty in getting at you, but it can be done. Financially----”
+ He paused, and looked at Mr. Wade.
+
+“Financially,” said the banker, without lifting his eyes from his
+pencil case, “we shall in the long run inevitably smash you--though the
+books are all right.”
+
+Roden smiled, with his long white fingers at his moustache.
+
+“From the figures supplied to me by Mr. Wade,” continued Cornish, “I
+see that there is an enormous profit lying idle--so large a profit that
+even between ourselves it is better not mentioned. There are, or there
+were yesterday, two hundred and ninety-two malgamite makers in active
+work.”
+
+Von Holzen made an involuntary movement, and Cornish looked at him over
+the pile of books. “Oh!” he said, “I know that. And I know the number
+of deaths. Perhaps you have not kept count, but I have. From the
+figures supplied by Mr. Wade, I see, therefore, that we have sufficient
+to pension off these two hundred and ninety-two men and their
+families--giving each man one hundred and twenty pounds a year. We can
+also make provision for the widows and orphans out of the sum I propose
+to withdraw from the profits. There will then be left a sum
+representing two large fortunes--of say between three and four thousand
+a year each. Will you and Mr. Roden accept this sum, dividing it as you
+think fit, and hand over the works to me? We ask, you to take it--no
+questions asked, and go.”
+
+“And Lord Ferriby?” suggested Von Holzen.
+
+Major White made a sudden movement, but Cornish laid his hand quickly
+upon the soldier's arm.
+
+“I will manage Lord Ferriby. What is your answer?”
+
+“No,” replied Von Holzen, instantly, as if he had long known what the
+ultimatum would be.
+
+Cornish turned interrogatively to Roden. His eyes urged Roden to
+accept.
+
+“No,” was the reply.
+
+Mr. Wade took out his large gold watch and looked at it.
+
+“Then there is no need,” he said composedly, “to detain these gentlemen
+any longer.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+COMMERCE.
+
+“The world will not believe a man repents.
+And this wise world of ours is mainly right.”
+
+
+“Then you are of opinion, my dear White, that one cannot well refuse to
+meet these--er--persons?”
+
+“Not,” replied Major White to Lord Ferriby, whose hand rested on his
+stout arm as they walked with dignity in the shade of the trees that
+border the Vyver--that quaint old fish-pond of The Hague--“not without
+running the risk of being called a d----d swindler.”
+
+For the major was a lamentably plain-spoken man, who said but little,
+and said that little strong. Lord Ferriby's affectionate grasp of the
+soldier's arm relaxed imperceptibly. One must, he reflected, be
+prepared to meet unpleasantness in the good cause of charity--but there
+are words hardly applicable to the peerage, and Major White had made
+use of one of these.
+
+“Public opinion,” observed the major, after some minutes of deep
+thought, “is a difficult thing to deal with--'cos you cannot thump the
+public.”
+
+“It is notably hard,” said his lordship, firing off one of his pet
+platform platitudes, “to induce the public to form a correct estimate,
+or what one takes to be a correct estimate.”
+
+“Especially of one's self,” added the major, looking across the water
+towards the Binnenhof in his vacant way.
+
+Then they turned and walked back again beneath the heavy shade of the
+trees. The conversation, and indeed this dignified promenade on the
+Vyverberg, had been brought about by a letter which his lordship had
+received that same morning inviting him to attend a meeting of
+paper-makers and others interested in the malgamite trade to consider
+the position of the malgamite charity, and the advisability of taking
+legal proceedings to close the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. The
+meeting was to be held at the Hôtel des Indes, at three in the
+afternoon, and the conveners hinted pretty plainly that the proceedings
+would be of a decisive nature. The letter left Lord Ferriby with a
+vague feeling of discomfort. His position was somewhat isolated. A
+coldness had for some time been in existence between himself and his
+nephew, Tony Cornish. Of Mr. Wade, Lord Ferriby was slightly
+distrustful.
+
+“These commercial men,” he often said, “are apt to hold such narrow
+views.”
+
+And, indeed, to steer a straight course through life, one must not look
+to one side or the other.
+
+There remained Major White, of whom Lord Ferriby had thought more
+highly since Fortune had called this plain soldier to take a seat among
+the gods of the British public. For no man is proof against the
+satisfaction of being able to call a celebrated person by his Christian
+name. The major had long admired Joan, in his stupid way from, as one
+might say, the other side of the room. But neither Lord nor Lady
+Ferriby had encouraged this silent suit. Joan was theoretically one of
+those of whom it is said that “she might marry anybody,” and who, as
+the keen observer may see for himself, often finishes by failing to
+marry at all. She was pretty and popular, and had, moreover, the
+_entrée_ to the best houses. White had been useful to Lord Ferriby ever
+since the inauguration of the Malgamite scheme. He was not
+uncomfortably clever, like Tony Cornish. He was an excellent buffer at
+jarring periods. Since the arrival of Joan and her father at The Hague,
+the major had been almost a necessity in their daily life, and now,
+quite suddenly, Lord Ferriby found that this was the only person to
+whom he could turn for advice or support.
+
+“One cannot suppose,” he said, in the full conviction that words will
+meet any emergency--“One cannot suppose that Von Holzen will act in
+direct opposition to the voice of the majority.”
+
+“Von Holzen,” replied the major, “plays a doocid good game.”
+
+After luncheon they walked across the Toornoifeld to the Hôtel des
+Indes, and there, in a small _salon_, found a number of gentlemen
+seated round a table. Mr. Wade was conspicuous by his absence. They
+had, indeed, left him in the hotel garden, sitting at the consumption
+of an excellent cigar.
+
+“Join the jocund dance?” the major had inquired, with a jerk of the
+head towards the Hôtel des Indes. But Mr. Wade was going for a drive
+with Marguerite.
+
+Tony Cornish was, however, seated at the table, and the major
+recognized two paper-makers whom he had seen before. One was an
+aggressive, red-headed man, of square shoulders and a dogged
+appearance, who had “radical” written all over him. The other was a
+mild-mannered person, with a thin, ash-colored moustache.
+The major nodded affably. He distinctly remembered offering to fight
+these two gentlemen either together or one after the other on the
+landing of the little malgamite office in Westminster. And there was a
+faint twinkle behind the major's eyeglass as he saluted them.
+
+“Good morning, Thompson,” he said. “How do, MacHewlett?” For he never
+forgot a face or a name.
+
+“A'hm thinking----” Mr. MacHewlett was observing, but his thoughts died
+a natural death at the sight of a real lord, and he rose and bowed. Mr.
+Thompson remained seated and made that posture as aggressive and
+obvious as possible. The remainder of the company were of varied
+nationality and appearance, while one, a Frenchman of keen dark eyes
+and a trim beard--seemed by tacit understanding to be the acknowledged
+leader. Even the pushing Mr. Thompson silently deferred to him by a
+gesture that served at once to introduce Lord Ferriby and invite the
+Frenchman to up and smite him.
+
+Lord Ferriby took the seat that had been left vacant for him at the
+head of the table. He looked around upon faces not too friendly.
+“We were saying, my lord,” said the Frenchman, in perfect English and
+with that graceful tact which belongs to France alone, “that we have
+all been the victims of an unfortunate chain of misunderstandings.
+Had the organizers of this great charity consulted a few paper-makers
+before inaugurating the works at Scheveningen, much unpleasantness
+ might have been averted, many lives might, alas, have been spared.
+But--well--such mundane persons as ourselves were probably unknown to
+you and unthought-of; the milk is spilt, is it not so? Let us rather
+think of the future.”
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed graciously, and Mr. Thompson moved impatiently on
+his chair. The suave method had no attractions for him.
+
+“A'hm thinking,” began Mr. MacHewlett, in his most plaintive voice, and
+commanded so sudden and universal an attention as to be obviously
+disconcerted, “his lordship'll need plainer speech than that,” he
+muttered hastily, and subsided, with an uneasy glance in the direction
+of that man of action, Major White.
+
+“One misunderstanding has, however, been happily dispelled,” said the
+Frenchman, “by our friend--if monsieur will permit the word--our friend,
+Mr. Cornish. From this gentleman we have learned that the executive of
+the Malgamite Charity are not by any means in harmony with the
+executive of the malgamite works at Scheveningen; that, indeed, the
+charity repudiates the action of its servants in manufacturing
+malgamite by a dangerous process tacitly and humanely set aside by
+makers up to this time; that the administrators of the fund are no
+party to the 'corner' which has been established in the product; do not
+desire to secure a monopoly, and disapprove of the sale of malgamite at
+a price which has already closed one or two of the smaller mills, and
+is paralyzing the paper trade of the world.”
+
+The speaker finished with a bow towards Cornish, and resumed his seat.
+All were watching Lord Ferriby's face, except Major White, who examined
+a quill pen with short-sighted absorption. Lord Ferriby looked across
+the table at Cornish.
+
+“Lord Ferriby,” said Cornish, without rising from his seat, and meeting
+his uncle's glance steadily, “will now no doubt confirm all that
+Monsieur Creil has said.”
+
+Lord Ferriby had, in truth, come to the meeting with no such intention.
+He had, with all his vast experience, no knowledge of a purely
+commercial assembly such as this. His public had hitherto been a
+drawing-room public. He was accustomed to a flower-decked platform,
+from which to deliver his flowing periods to the emotional of both
+sexes. There were no flowers in this room at the Hôtel des Indes, and
+the men before him were not of the emotional school. They were, on the
+contrary, plain, hard-headed men of business, who had come from
+different parts of the world at Cornish's bidding to meet a crisis in a
+plain, hard-headed way. They had only thoughts of their balance-sheets,
+and not of the fact that they held in the hollow of their hands the
+lives of hundreds, nay, of thousands, of men, women, and children.
+Monsieur Creil alone, the keen-eyed Frenchman, had absolute control of
+over three thousand employees--married men with children--but he did not
+think of mentioning the fact. And it is a weight to carry about with
+one--to go to sleep with and to awake with in the morning--the charge
+of, say, nine thousand human lives.
+
+For a few moments Lord Ferriby was silent. Cornish watched him across
+the table. He knew that his uncle was no fool, although his wisdom
+amounted to little more than the wisdom of the worldly. Would Lord
+Ferriby recognize the situation in time? There was a wavering look in
+the great man's eye that made his nephew suddenly anxious. Then Lord
+Ferriby rose slowly, to make the shortest speech that he had ever made
+in his life.
+
+“Gentlemen,” he said, “I beg to confirm what has just been said.”
+
+As he sat down again, Cornish gave a sharp sigh of relief. In a moment
+Mr. Thompson was on his feet, his red face alight with democratic anger.
+
+
+“This won't do,” he cried. “Let's have done with palavering and talk.
+Let's get to plain speaking.”
+
+And it was not Lord Ferriby, but Tony Cornish, who rose to meet the
+attack.
+
+“If you will sit down,” he said, “and keep your temper, you shall have
+plain speaking, and we can get to business. But if you do neither, I
+shall turn you out of the room.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Tony. And something which Mr. Thompson did not
+understand made him resume his seat in silence. The Frenchman smiled,
+and took up his speech where he had left it.
+
+“Mr. Cornish,” he said, “speaks with authority. We are, gentlemen, in
+the hands of Mr. Cornish, and in good hands. He has this matter at the
+tips of his fingers. He has devoted himself to it for many months past,
+at considerable risk, as I suspect, to his own safety. We and the
+thousands of employees whom we represent cannot do better than entrust
+the situation to him, and give him a free hand. For once, capital and
+labour have a common interest----”
+
+He was again interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who spoke more quietly now.
+
+“It seems to me,” he said, “that we may well consider the past for a
+few minutes before passing on to the future. There's more than a
+million pounds profit, at the lowest reckoning, on the last few months'
+manufacture. Question is, where is that profit? Is this a charity, or
+is it not? Mr. Cornish is all very well in his way. But we're not
+fools. We're men of business, and as such can only presume that Mr.
+Cornish, like the rest of 'em, has had his share. Question is, where
+are the profits?”
+
+Major White rose slowly. He was seated beside Mr. Thompson, and,
+standing up, towered above him. He looked down at the irate red face
+with a calm and wondering eye.
+
+“Question is,” he said gravely, “where the deuce you will be in a few
+minutes if you don't shut up.”
+
+Whereupon Mr. Thompson once more resumed his seat. He had the
+satisfaction, however, of perceiving that his shaft had reached its
+mark; for Lord Ferriby looked disconcerted and angry. The chairman of
+many charities looked, moreover, a little puzzled, as if the situation
+was beyond his comprehension. The Frenchman's pleasant voice again
+broke in, soothingly and yet authoritatively.
+
+“Mr. Cornish and a certain number of us have, for some time, been in
+correspondence,” he said. “It is unnecessary for me to suggest to my
+present hearers that in dealing with a large industry--in handling, as
+it were, the lives of a number of persons--it is impossible to proceed
+too cautiously. One must look as far ahead as human foresight may
+perceive--one must give grave and serious thought to every possible
+outcome of action or inaction. Gentlemen, we have done our best. We
+are now in a position to say to the administrators of the Malgamite
+Fund, close your works and we will do the rest. And this means that we
+shall provide for the survivors of this great commercial catastrophe,
+that we shall care for the widows and children of the victims, that we
+shall supply ourselves with malgamite of our own manufacture, produced
+only by a process which is known to be harmless, that we shall make it
+impossible that such a monopoly may again be declared. We have, so far
+as lies in our power, provided for every emergency. We have approached
+the two men who, from their retreat on the dunes of Scheveningen, have
+swayed one of the large industries of the world. We have offered them a
+fortune. We have tried threats and money, but we have failed to close
+them but one alternative, and that is--war. We are prepared in every way.
+We can to-morrow take over the manufacture of malgamite for the whole
+world--but we must have the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. We must
+have the absolute control of the Malgamite Fund and of the works. We
+propose, gentlemen, to seize this control, and invest the supreme
+command in the one man who is capable of exercising it--Mr.
+Anthony Cornish.”
+
+The Frenchman sat down, looked across the table, and shrugged his
+shoulders impatiently; for the irrepressible Thompson was already on
+his feet. It must be remembered that Mr. Thompson worked on commission,
+and had been hard hit.
+
+“Then,” he cried, pointing a shaking forefinger into Lord Ferriby's
+face, “that man has no business to be sitting there. We're honest
+here--if we're nothing else. We all know your history, my fine
+gentleman; we know that you cannot wipe out the past, so you're trying
+to whitewash it over with good works. That's an old trick, and it won't
+go down here. Do you think we don't see through you and your palavering
+speeches? Why have you refused to take action against Roden and Von
+Holzen? Because they've paid you. Look at him, gentlemen! He has taken
+money from those men at Scheveningen--blood money. He has had his
+share. I propose that Lord Ferriby explains his position.”
+
+Mr. Thompson banged his fist on the table, and at the same moment sat
+down with extreme precipitation, urged thereto by Major White's hand on
+his collar.
+
+“This is not a vestry meeting,” said the major, sternly.
+
+Lord Ferriby had risen to his feet. “My position, gentlemen,” he began,
+and then faltered, with his hand at his watch-chain. “My position----”
+ He stopped with a gulp. His face was the colour of ashes. He turned in
+a dazed way towards his nephew; for at the beginning and the end of
+life blood is thicker than water. “Anthony,” said his lordship, and sat
+down heavily.
+
+All rose to their feet in confusion. Major White seemed somehow to be
+quicker than the rest, and caught Lord Ferriby in his arms--but Lord
+Ferriby was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+WITH CARE.
+
+“Some man holdeth his tongue, because he hath not to answer: and
+some keepeth silence, knowing his time.”
+
+
+Those who live for themselves alone must at least have the consolatory
+thought that when they die the world will soon console itself. For it
+has been decreed that he who takes no heed of others shall himself be
+taken no heed of. We soon learn to do without those who are indifferent
+to us and useless to us. Lord Ferriby had so long and so carefully
+studied the _culte_ of self that even those nearest to him had ceased
+to give him any thought, knowing that in his own he was in excellent
+hands--that he would always ask for what he wanted. It was Lord
+Ferriby's business to make the discovery (which all selfish people must
+sooner or later achieve) that the best things in this world are
+precisely those which may not be given on demand, and for which,
+indeed, one may in nowise ask.
+
+When Major White and Cornish were left alone in the private _salon_ of
+the Hôtel des Indes--when the doctor had come and gone, when the blinds
+had been decently lowered, and the great man silently laid upon the
+sofa--they looked at each other without speaking. The grimmest silence
+is surely that which arises from the thought that of the dead one may
+only say what is good.
+
+“Would you like me,” said Cornish, “to go across and tell Joan?”
+
+And Major White, whose god was discipline, replied, “She's your cousin.
+It is for you to say.”
+
+“I shall be glad if you will go,” said Cornish, “and leave me to make
+the other arrangements. Take her home tomorrow, or tonight if she wants
+to, and leave us--me--to follow.”
+
+So Major White quitted the Hôtel des Indes, and walked slowly down the
+length of the Toornoifeld, leaving Cornish alone with Lord Ferriby,
+whose death made his nephew suddenly a richer man.
+
+The Wades had gone out for a drive in the wood. Major White knew that
+he would find Joan alone at the hotel. Bad news has a strange trick of
+clearing the way before it. The major went to the _salon_ on the ground
+floor overlooking the corner of the Vyverberg. Joan was writing a
+letter at the window.
+
+“Ah!” she said, turning, pen in hand, “you are soon back. Have you
+quarrelled?”
+
+White went stolidly across the room towards her. There was a chair by
+the writing-table, and here he sat down. Joan was looking uneasily into
+his face. Perhaps she saw more in that immovable countenance than the
+world was pleased to perceive.
+
+“Your father was taken suddenly ill,” he said, “during the meeting.”
+ Joan half rose from her chair, but the major laid his protecting hand
+over hers. It was a large, quiet hand--like himself, somewhat suggestive
+of a buffer. And it may, after all, be no mean _rôle_ to act as a
+buffer between one woman and the world all one's life.
+
+“You can do nothing,” said White. “Tony is with him.”
+
+Joan looked into his face in speechless inquiry.
+
+“Yes,” he answered, “your father is dead.”
+
+Then he sat there in a silence which may have been intensely stupid or
+very wise. For silence is usually cleverer than speech, and always more
+interesting. Joan was dry-eyed. Well may the children of the selfish
+arise and bless their parents for (albeit unwittingly) alleviating one
+of the necessary sorrows of life.
+
+After a silence, Major White told Joan how the calamity had occurred,
+in a curt military way, as of one who had rubbed shoulders with death
+before, who had gone out, moreover, to meet him with a quiet mind, and
+had told others of the dealings of the destroyer. For Major White was
+deemed a lucky man by his comrades, who had a habit of giving him
+messages for their friends before they went into the field. Perhaps,
+moreover, the major was of the opinion of those ancient writers who
+seemed to deem it more important to consider how a man lives than how
+he dies.
+
+“It was some heart trouble,” he concluded, “brought on by worry or
+sudden excitement.”
+
+“The Malgamite,” answered Joan. “It has always been a source of
+uneasiness to him. He never quite understood it.”
+
+“No,” answered the major, very deliberately, “he never quite understood
+it.” And he looked out of the window with a thoughtful noncommitting
+face.
+
+“Neither do I--understand it,” said Joan, doubtfully.
+
+And the major looked suddenly dense. He had, as usual, no explanation
+to offer.
+
+“Was father deceived by some one?” Joan asked, after a pause. “One
+hears such strange rumours about the Malgamite Fund. I suppose father
+was deceived?”
+
+She spoke of the dead man with that hushed voice which death, with a
+singular impartiality to race or creed, seems to demand of the
+survivors wheresoever he passes.
+
+White met her earnest gaze with a grave nod. “Yes,” he answered. “He
+was deceived.”
+
+“He said before he went out that he did not want to go to the meeting
+at all,” went on Joan, in a tone of tender reminiscence, “but that he
+had always made a point of sacrificing his inclination to his sense of
+duty. Poor father!”
+
+“Yes,” said the major, looking out of the window. And he bore Joan's
+steady, searching glance like a man.
+
+“Tell me,” she said suddenly. “Were you and Tony deceived also?”
+
+Major White reflected for a moment. It is unwise to tell even the
+smallest lie in haste.
+
+“No,” he answered at length. “Not so entirely as your father.”
+
+He uncrossed his legs, and made a feeble attempt to divert her
+thoughts.
+
+But Joan was on the trail as it were of a half-formed idea in her own
+mind, and she would not have been a woman if she had relinquished the
+quest so easily.
+
+“But you were deceived at first?” she inquired, rather anxiously. “I
+know Tony was. I am sure of it. Perhaps he found out later; but you--”
+
+She drew her hand from under his rather hastily, having just found out
+that it was in that equivocal position.
+
+“You were never deceived,” she said, with a suspicion of resentment.
+
+“Well--perhaps not,” admitted the major, reluctantly. And he looked
+regretfully at the hand she had withdrawn. “Don't know much about
+charities,” he continued, after a pause. “Don't quite look at them in
+the right light, perhaps. Seems to me that you ought to be more
+business-like in charities than in anything else; and we're not
+business men--not even you.”
+
+He looked at her very solemnly and wisely, as if the thoughts in his
+mind would be of immense value if he could only express them; but he
+was without facilities in that direction. If one cannot be wise, the
+next best thing is to have a wise look. He rose, for he had caught
+sight of Tony Cornish crossing the Toornoifeld in the shade of the
+trees. Perhaps the major had forgotten for the moment that a great man
+was dead; that there were letters to be written and telegrams to be
+despatched; that the world must know of it, and the insatiable maw of
+the public be closed by a few scraps of news. For the public mind must
+have its daily food, and the wise are they who tell it only that which
+it is expedient for it to know.
+
+Lord Ferriby's life was, moreover, one that needed careful obituary
+treatment. Everybody's life may for domestic purposes be described as a
+hash; but Lord Ferriby's was a hash which in the hands of a cheap
+democratic press might easily be served up so daintily as to be very
+savoury in the nostrils of the world. Some of its component parts were
+indeed exceedingly ancient, and, so to speak, gamey, while the
+Malgamite scheme alone might easily be magnified into a very passable
+scandal.
+
+Tony came into the room, keen and capable. He did not show much
+feeling. Perhaps Joan and he understood each other without any such
+display. For they had known each other many years, and had understood
+other and more subtle matters without verbal explanation. For the world
+had been pleased to say that Joan and Tony must in the end inevitably
+marry. And they had never explained, never contradicted, and never
+married.
+
+While the three were still talking, a carriage rattled up to the door
+of the hotel, and then another. There began, in a word, that hushed
+confusion--that running to and fro as of ants upon a disturbed
+ant-hill--which follows hard upon the footsteps of the grim messenger,
+who himself is content to come so quietly and unobtrusively. Roden
+arrived to make inquiries, and Mrs. Vansittart, and a messenger from
+more than one embassy. Then the Wades came, brought hurriedly back by a
+messenger sent after them by Tony Cornish.
+
+Marguerite, with characteristic energy, came into the room first, slim
+and bright-eyed. She looked from one face to the other, and then
+crossed the room and stood beside Joan without speaking. She was
+smiling--a little hard smile with close-set lips, showing the world a
+face that meant to take life open-eyed, as it is, and make the best of
+it.
+
+Before long the two girls quitted the room, leaving the three men to
+their hushed discussion. Tony had already provided himself with pen and
+paper. In twelve hours that which the world must know about Lord
+Ferriby should be in print. There was just time to cable it to the
+_Times_ and the news agencies. And in these hurried days it is the
+first word which, after all, goes farthest and carries most weight. A
+contradiction is at all times a poor expedient.
+
+“I have silenced the paper-makers,” said Cornish, sitting down to
+write. “Even that ass Thompson, by striking while the iron was hot.”
+
+“And Roden won't open his lips,” added Mr. Wade, who, as he drove up,
+had seen that brilliant financier uneasily strolling under the trees of
+the Toornoifeld, looking towards the hotel, for Lord Ferriby's death
+was a link in the crooked malgamite chain which even Von Holzen had
+failed to foresee.
+
+Indeed, Lord Ferriby must have been gratified could he have seen the
+posthumous pother that he made by dying at this juncture. For in life
+he had only been important in his own eyes, and the world had taken
+little heed of him. This same keen-sighted world would not regret him
+much now and would assuredly mete out to that miserly old screw, his
+widow, only as much sympathy as the occasion deserved. Lady Ferriby
+would, the world suspected, sell off his lordship's fancy waistcoats,
+and proceed to save money to her heart's content. Even the thought of
+his club subscriptions, now necessarily to be discontinued, must have
+assuaged a large part of the widow's grief. Such, at least, was the
+opinion of the clubs themselves, when the news was posted up among the
+weather reports and the latest tapes from the House that same evening.
+
+While Lord Ferriby's friends were comfortably endowing him with a few
+compensating virtues over their tea and hot buttered toast in Pall Mall
+and St. James's Street, Mr. Wade, Tony, and White dined together at the
+Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery at The Hague. The hour was an early
+one, and had never been countenanced by Lord Ferriby, but the three men
+in whose hands he had literally left his good name did not attach
+supreme importance to this matter. Indeed, the banker thought kindly of
+six-thirty as an hour at which in earlier days he had been endowed with
+a better appetite than he ever possessed now at eight o'clock or later.
+While they were at table a telegram was handed to Cornish. It was from
+Lord Ferriby's solicitor in London, and contained the advice that Tony
+Cornish had been appointed sole executor of his lordship's will.
+
+“Thank God!” said Tony, with a little laugh, as he read the message and
+handed it across to Mr. Wade, who looked at it gravely without comment.
+“And now,” said Cornish, “not even Joan need know.”
+
+For Cornish, having perceived Percy Roden under the trees of the
+Toornoifeld, had gone out there to speak to him, and in answer to a
+plain question had received a plain answer as to the price that Lord
+Ferriby had been paid for the use of his name in the Malgamite
+Fund transactions.
+
+Joan had elected to remain in her own rooms, with Marguerite to keep
+her company, until the evening, when, under White's escort, she was to
+set out for England. The major had in a minimum of words expressed
+himself ready to do anything at any time, provided that the service did
+not require an abnormal conversational effort.
+
+“I shall be home twenty-four hours after you,” said Cornish, as he bade
+Joan good-bye at the station. “And you need believe no rumours and fear
+no gossip. If people ask impertinent questions, refer them to White.”
+
+“And I'll thump them,” added the major, who indeed looked capable of
+rendering that practical service.
+
+They were favoured by a full moon and a perfect night for their passage
+from the Hook of Holland to Harwich. Joan expressed a desire to remain
+on deck, at all events, until the lights of the Maas had been left
+behind. Major White procured two deck chairs, and found a corner of the
+upper deck which was free alike from too much wind and too many people.
+There they sat in the shadow of a boat, and Joan seemed fully occupied
+with her own thoughts, for she did not speak while the steamer ploughed
+steadily onwards through the smooth water.
+
+“I wonder if it is my duty to continue to take an active part in the
+Malgamite Fund,” she said at length.
+
+And the major, who had been permitted to smoke, looked attentively at
+the lighted end of his cigar, and said nothing.
+
+“I am afraid it must be,” continued Joan, whose earnest endeavours to
+find out what was her duty, and do it, occupied the larger part of her
+time and attention.
+
+“Why?” asked Major White.
+
+“Because I don't want to.”
+
+The major thought about the matter for a long time--almost half through
+a cigar. It was wonderful how so much thought could result in so few
+words, especially in these days, which are essentially days of many
+words and few thoughts. During this period of meditation, Joan sat
+looking out to sea, and the moon shining down upon her face showed it
+to be puckered with anxiety. Like many of her contemporaries, she was
+troubled by an intense desire to do her duty, coupled with an
+unfortunate lack of duties to perform.
+
+“I wish you would tell me what you think,” she said.
+
+“Seems to me,” said White, “that your duty is clear enough.”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+“Yes. Drop the Malgamiters and the Haberdashers and all that,
+and--marry me.”
+
+But Joan only shook her head sadly. “That cannot be my duty,” she said.
+
+“Why? 'Cos it isn't unpleasant enough?”
+
+“No,” answered Joan, after a pause, in the deepest
+earnestness--“no--that's just it.”
+
+Out of which ambiguous observation the major seemed to gather some
+meaning, for he looked up at the moon with one of his most vacant
+smiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+A LESSON.
+
+“Whom the gods mean to destroy, they blind.”
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had passed the age of blind love. She had not the
+incentive of a healthy competition. She had not that more dangerous
+incentive of middle-aged vanity, which draws the finger of derision so
+often in the direction of widows. And yet she took a certain pleasure
+in playing a half-careless and wholly cynical Juliet to Percy Roden's
+_gauche_ Romeo. She had no intention of marrying him, and yet she
+continued to encourage him even now that open war was declared between
+Cornish and the malgamite makers. Cornish had indeed thanked Mrs.
+Vansittart for her assistance in the past in such a manner as to convey
+to her that she could hardly be of use to him in the future. He had
+magnified her good offices, and had warned her to beware of arousing
+Von Holzen's anger. Indeed, her use of Percy Roden was at an end, and
+yet she would not let him go. Cornish was puzzled, and so was
+Dorothy. Percy Roden was gratified, and read the riddle by the light of
+his own vanity. Mrs. Vansittart was not, perhaps, the first woman to
+puzzle her neighbours by refusing to relinquish that which she did not
+want. She was not the first, perhaps, to nurse a subtle desire to play
+some part in the world rather than be left idle in the wings. So she
+played the part that came first and easiest to her hand--a woman's
+natural part, of stirring up strife between men.
+
+She was, therefore, gratified when Von Holzen made his way slowly towards
+her through the crowd on the Kursaal terrace one afternoon on the
+occasion of a Thursday concert. She was sitting alone in a far
+corner of the terrace, protected by a glass screen from the wind which
+ever blows at Scheveningen. She never mingled with the summer visitors
+at this popular Dutch resort--indeed, knew none of them. Von Holzen
+seemed to be similarly situated; but Mrs. Vansittart knew that he did
+not seek her out on that account. He was not a man to do anything--much
+less be sociable--out of idleness. He only dealt with his fellow-beings
+when he had a use for them.
+
+She returned his grave bow with an almost imperceptible movement of the
+head, and for a moment they looked hard at each other.
+
+“Madame still lingers at The Hague,” he said.
+
+“As you see.”
+
+“And is the game worth the candle?”
+
+He laid his hand tentatively on a chair, and looked towards her with an
+interrogative glance. He would not, it appeared, sit down without her
+permission. And, womanlike, she gave it, with a shrug of one shoulder.
+A woman rarely refuses a challenge. “And is the game worth the candle?”
+ he repeated.
+
+“One can only tell when it is played out,” was the reply; and Herr von
+Holzen glanced quickly at the lady who made it.
+
+He turned away and listened to the music. An occasional concert was the
+one diversion he allowed himself at this time from his most absorbing
+occupation of making a fortune. He had probably a real love of music,
+which is not by any means given to the good only, or the virtuous.
+Indeed, it is the art most commonly allied to vice.
+
+“By the way,” said Von Holzen, after a pause, “that paper which it
+pleased madame's fantasy to possess at one time--is destroyed. Its
+teaching exists only in my unworthy brain.”
+
+He turned and looked at her with his slow smile, his measuring eyes.
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Yes; so madame need give the question no more thought, and may turn
+her full attention to her new--fancy.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was studying her programme, and did not look up or
+display the slightest interest in what he was saying.
+
+“Every event seems but to serve to strengthen our position,” went on
+Von Holzen, still half listening to the music. “Even the untimely death
+of Lord Ferriby--which might at first have appeared a _contretemps_.
+Cornish takes home the coffin by tonight's mail, I understand. Men may
+come, madame, and men may go--but we go on for ever. We are still
+prosperous--despite our friends. And Cornish is nonplussed. He does not
+know what to do next, and fate seems to be against him. He has no luck.
+We are manufacturing--day and night.”
+
+“You are interested in Mr. Cornish,” observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly;
+and she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes.
+
+After all, the man had a passion over which his control was
+insecure--the last, the longest of the passions--hatred. He shrugged
+his shoulders.
+
+“He has forced himself upon our notice--unnecessarily as the result has
+proved--only to find out that there is no stopping us.”
+
+He could scarcely control his voice as he spoke of Cornish, and looked
+away as if fearing to show the expression of his eyes.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart watched him with a cool little smile. Von Holzen had
+not come here to talk of Cornish. He had come on purpose to say
+something which he had not succeeded in saying yet, and she was not
+ignorant of this. She was going to make it as difficult as possible for
+him, so that when he at last said what he had come to say, she should
+know it, and perhaps divine his motives.
+
+“Even now,” he continued, “we have succeeded beyond our expectations.
+We are rich men, so that madame--need delay no longer.” He turned and
+looked her straight in the eyes.
+
+“I?” she inquired, with raised eyebrows. “Need delay no longer--in
+what?”
+
+“In consummating the happiness of my partner, Percy Roden,” he was
+clever enough to say without being impertinent. “He--and his banking
+account--are really worth the attention of any lady.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed, and, before answering, acknowledged stiffly
+the stiff salutation of a passer.
+
+“Then it is suggested that I am waiting for Mr. Roden to be rich enough
+in order to marry him?”
+
+“It is the talk of gossips and servants.”
+
+Mrs. Vansittart looked at him with an amused smile. Did he really know
+so little of the world as to take his information from gossips and
+servants?
+
+“Ah,” she said, and that was all. She rose and made a little signal
+with her parasol to her coachman, who was waiting in the shadow of the
+Kursaal. As she drove home, she wondered why Von Holzen was afraid that
+she should marry Percy Roden, who, as it happened, was coming to tea in
+Park Straat that evening. Mrs. Vansittart had not exactly invited
+him--not, at all events, that he was aware of. He was under the
+impression that he had himself proposed the visit.
+
+She remembered that he was coming, but gave no further thought to him.
+All her mind was, indeed, absorbed with thoughts of Von Holzen, whom
+she hated with the dull and deadly hatred of the helpless. The sight of
+him, the sound of his voice, stirred something within her that vibrated
+for hours, so that she could think of nothing else--could not even give
+her attention to the little incidents of daily life. She pretended to
+herself that she sought retribution--that she wished on principle to
+check a scoundrel in his successful career. The heart, however, knows
+no principles; for these are created by and belong to the mind. Which
+explains why many women seem to have no principles and many virtuous
+persons no heart.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart went home to make a careful toilet pending the arrival
+of Percy Roden. She came down to the drawing-room, and stood idly at
+the window.
+
+“The talk of gossips and servants,” she repeated bitterly to herself.
+One of Von Holzen's shafts had, at all events, gone home. And Percy
+Roden came into the room a few minutes afterwards. His manner had more
+assurance than when he had first made Mrs. Vansittart's acquaintance.
+He had, perhaps, a trifle less respect for the room and its occupant.
+Mrs. Vansittart had allowed him to come nearer to her; and
+when a woman allows a man of whom she has a low opinion to come near to
+her, she trifles with her own self-respect, and does harm which,
+perhaps, may never be repaired.
+
+“I was too busy to go to the concert this afternoon,” he said, sitting
+down in his loose-limbed way.
+
+His assumption that his absence had been noticed rather nettled his
+hearer.
+
+“Ah! Were you not there?” she inquired.
+
+He turned and looked at her with his curt laugh. “If I had been there
+you would have known it,” he said.
+
+It was just one of those remarks--delivered in the half-mocking voice
+assumed in self-protection--which Mrs. Vansittart had hitherto allowed
+to pass unchallenged. And now, quite suddenly, she resented the manner
+and the speech.
+
+“Indeed,” she said, with a subtle inflection of tone which should have
+warned him.
+
+But he was engaged in drawing down his cuffs. Many young men would know
+more of the world if they had no cuffs or collars to distract them.
+
+“Yes,” answered Roden; “if I had gone to the concert it would not have
+been for the music.”
+
+Percy Roden's method of making love was essentially modern. He threw to
+Mrs. Vansittart certain scraps of patronage and admiration, which she
+could pick up seriously and keep if she cared to. But he was not going
+to risk a wound to his vanity by taking the initiative too earnestly.
+Mrs. Vansittart, who was busy at the tea-table, set down a cup which
+she had in her hand and crossed the room towards him.
+
+“What do you mean, Mr. Roden?” she asked slowly.
+
+He looked up with wavering eyes, and visibly lost colour under her
+gaze.
+
+“What do I mean?”
+
+“Yes. What do you mean when you say that, if you had gone to the
+concert, it would not have been for the music; that if you had been
+there, I should have known of your presence, and a hundred
+other--impertinences?”
+
+At first Roden thought that the way was being made easy for him as it
+is in books, as, indeed, it sometimes is in life, when it happens to be
+a way that is not worth the treading; but the last word stung him like
+a lash--as it was meant to sting. It was, perhaps, that one word that
+made him rise from his chair.
+
+“If you meant to object to anything that I may say, you should have
+done so long ago,” he said. “Who was the first to speak at the hotel
+when I came to The Hague? Which of us was it that kept the friendship
+up and cultivated it? I am not blind. I could hardly be anything else,
+if I had failed to see what you have meant all along.”
+
+“What have I meant all along?” she asked, with a strange little smile.
+
+“Why, you have meant me to say such things as I have said, and perhaps
+more.”
+
+“More--what can you mean?”
+
+She looked at him still with a smile, which he did not understand. And,
+like many men, he allowed his vanity to explain things which his
+comprehension failed to elucidate.
+
+“Well,” he said, after a moment's hesitation, “will you marry me?
+There!”
+
+“No, Mr. Roden, I will not,” she answered promptly; and then suddenly
+her eyes flashed, at some recollection, perhaps--at some thought
+connected with her happy past contrasted with this sordid, ignoble
+present.
+
+“You!” she cried. “Marry you!”
+
+“Why,” he asked, with a bitter little laugh, “what is there wrong with
+me?”
+
+“I do not know what there is wrong with you. And I am not interested to
+inquire. But, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing right.”
+
+A woman's answer after all, and one of those reasons which are no
+reasons, and yet rule the world.
+
+Roden looked at her, completely puzzled. In a flash of thought he
+recalled Dorothy's warning, and her incomprehensible foresight.
+
+“Then,” he said, lapsing in his self-forgetfulness into the terse
+language of his everyday life and thought, “what on earth have you been
+driving at all along?”
+
+“I have been driving at Herr von Holzen and the Malgamite scheme. I
+have been helping Tony Cornish,” she answered.
+
+So Percy Roden quitted the house at the corner of Park Straat a wiser
+man, and perhaps he left a wiser woman in it.
+
+“My dear,” said Mrs. Vansittart to Marguerite Wade, long afterwards,
+when a sort of friendship had sprung up and ripened between them--“my
+dear, never let a man ask you to marry him unless you mean to say yes.
+It will do neither of you any good.”
+
+And Marguerite, who never allowed another the last word, gave a shrewd
+little nod before she answered--“I always say no--before they ask me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL.
+
+ “There's not a crime--But takes its proper change still out in crime
+If once rung on the counter of this world.”
+
+
+Cornish went back to The Hague immediately after Lord Ferriby's funeral
+because it has been decreed that for all men, this large world shall
+sooner or later narrow down to one city, perhaps, or one village, or a
+single house. For a man's life is always centred round a memory or a
+hope, and neither of those requires much space wherein to live. Tony
+Cornish's world had narrowed to the Villa des Dunes on the sandhills of
+Scheveningen, and his mind's eye was always turned in that direction.
+His one thought at this time was to protect Dorothy--to keep, if
+possible, the name she bore from harm and ill-fame. Each day that
+passed meant death to the malgamite workers. He could not delay. He
+dared not hurry. He wrote again to Percy Roden from London, amid the
+hurried preparations for the funeral, and begged him to sever his
+connection with Von Holzen.
+
+
+“You will not have time,” he wrote, “to answer this before I leave for
+The Hague. I shall stay on the Toornoifeld as usual, and hope to arrive
+about nine o'clock to-morrow evening. I shall leave the hotel about a
+quarter-past nine and walk down the right-hand bank of the Koninginne
+Gracht, and should like to meet you by the canal, where we can have a
+talk. I have many reasons to submit to your consideration why it will
+be expedient for you to come over to my side in this difference now,
+which I cannot well set down on paper. And remember that between men of
+the world, such as I suppose we may take ourselves to be, there is no
+question of one of us judging the other. Let me beg of you to consider
+your position in regard to the Malgamite scheme--and meet me to-morrow
+night between the Malie Veld and the Achter Weg about half-past nine. I
+cannot see you at the works, and it would be better for you not to come
+to my hotel.”
+
+The letter was addressed to the Villa des Dunes, where Roden received
+it the next morning. Dorothy saw it, and guessed from whom it was,
+though she hardly knew her lover's writing. He had adhered firmly to
+his resolution to keep himself in the background until he had finished
+the work he had undertaken. He had not written to her; had scarcely
+seen her. Roden read the letter, and put it in his pocket without a
+word. It had touched his vanity. He had had few dealings with men of
+the standing and position of Cornish, and here was this peer's nephew
+and peer's grandson appealing to him as to a friend, classing him
+together with himself as a man of the world. No man has so little
+discretion as a vain man. It is almost impossible for him to keep
+silence when speech will make for his glorification. Roden arrived at
+the works well pleased with himself, and found Von Holzen in their
+little office, put out, ill at ease, domineering. It was unfortunate,
+if you will. Percy Roden was always ready to perceive his own
+ill-fortune, and looked back later to this as one of his most untoward
+hours. Life, however, should surely consist of seizing the fortunate
+and fighting through the ill moments--else why should men have heart
+and nerve?
+
+In such humours as they found themselves it did not take long for these
+two men to discover a question upon which to differ. It was a mere
+matter of detail connected with the money at that time passing through
+their hands.
+
+“Of course,” said Roden, in the course of a useless and trivial
+dispute--“of course you think you know best, but you know nothing of
+finance--remember that. Everybody knows that it is I who have run that
+part of the business. Ask old Wade, or White--or Cornish.”
+
+The argument had, in truth, been rather one-sided. For Roden had done
+all the talking, while Von Holzen looked at him with a quiet eye and a
+silent contempt that made him talk all the more. Von Holzen did not
+answer now, though his eye lighted at the mention of Cornish's name. He
+merely looked at Roden with a smile, which conveyed as clearly as words
+Von Holzen's suggestion that none of the three men named would be
+prepared to give Roden a very good character. “I had a letter, by the
+way, from Cornish this morning,” said Roden, lapsing into his grander
+manner, which Von Holzen knew how to turn to account.
+
+“Ah--bah!” he exclaimed sceptically. And that lurking vanity of the
+inferior to lessen his own inferiority did the rest.
+
+“If you don't believe me, there you are,” said Roden, throwing the
+letter upon the table--not ill-pleased, in the heat of the moment, to
+show that he was a more important person than his companion seemed to
+think.
+
+Von Holzen read the letter slowly and thoughtfully. The fact that it
+was evidently intended for Roden's private eye did not seem to affect
+one or the other of these two men, who had travelled, with difficulty,
+along the road to fortune, only reaching their bourn at last with a
+light stock of scruples and a shattered code of honour. Then he folded
+it, and handed it back. He was not likely to forget a word of it.
+
+“I suppose you will go,” he said. “It will be interesting to hear what
+he has to say. That letter is a confession of weakness.”
+
+In making which statement Von Holzen showed his own weak point. For,
+like many clever men, he utterly failed to give to women their
+place--the leading place--in the world's history, as in the little
+histories of our daily lives. He never detected Dorothy between every
+line of Cornish's letter, and thought that it had only been dictated by
+inability to meet the present situation.
+
+“I cannot very well refuse to go since the fellow asks me,” said Roden,
+grandly. He might as well have displayed his grandeur to a statue. If
+love is blind, self-love is surely half-witted as well, for it never
+sees nor understands that the world is fooling it. Roden failed to heed
+the significant fact that Von Holzen did not even ask him what line of
+conduct he intended to follow with regard to Cornish, nor seek in his
+autocratic way to instruct him on that point; but turned instead to
+other matters and did not again refer to Cornish or the letter he had
+written.
+
+So the day wore on while Cornish impatiently walked the deck of the
+steamer, ploughing its way across the North Sea, through showers and
+thunderstorms and those grey squalls that flit to and fro on the German
+Ocean. And some tons of malgamite were made, while a manufacturer or
+two of the grim product laid aside his tools forever, while the money
+flowed in, and Otto von Holzen thought out his deep silent plans over
+his vats and tanks and crucibles. And all the while those who write in
+the book of fate had penned the last decree.
+
+Cornish arrived punctually at The Hague. He drove to the hotel, where
+he was known, where, indeed, he had never relinquished his room. There
+was no letter for him--no message from Percy Roden. But Von Holzen had
+unobtrusively noted his arrival at the station from the crowded retreat
+of the second-class waiting-room.
+
+The day had been a very hot one, and from canal and dyke arose that
+sedgy odour which comes with the cool of night in all Holland. It is
+hardly disagreeable, and conveys no sense of unhealthiness.
+
+It seems merely to be the breath of still waters, and, in hot weather,
+suggests very pleasantly the relief of northern night. The Hague has
+two dominant smells. In winter, when the canals are frozen, the reek of
+burning-peat is on the air and in the summer the odour of slow waters.
+Cornish knew them both. He knew everything about this old-world city,
+where the turning-point of his life had been fixed. It was deserted
+now. The great houses, the theatre--the show-places--were closed. The
+Toornoifeld was empty.
+
+The hotel porter, aroused by the advent of the traveller from an
+after-dinner nap in his little glass box, spread out his hands with a
+gesture of surprise.
+
+“The season is over,” he said. “We are empty. Why you come to The Hague
+now?”
+
+Even the sentries at the end of the Korte Voorhout wore a holiday air
+of laxness, and swung their rifles idly. Cornish noticed that only half
+of the lamps were lighted.
+
+The banks of the Queen's Canal are heavily shaded by trees, which,
+indeed, throw out their branches to meet above the weed-sown water.
+There is a broad thoroughfare on either side of the canal, though
+little traffic passes that way. These are two of the many streets of
+The Hague which seem to speak of a bygone day, when Holland played a
+greater part in the world's history than she does at present, for the
+houses are bigger than the occupants must need, and the streets are too
+wide for the traffic passing through them. In the middle the canal--a
+gloomy corridor beneath the trees--creeps noiselessly towards the sea.
+Cornish was before the appointed hour, and walked leisurely by the
+pathway between the trees and the canal. Soon the houses were left
+behind, and he passed the great open space called the Malie Veld. He
+had met no one since leaving the guard-house. It was a dark night, with
+no moon, but the stars were peeping through the riven clouds.
+
+“Unless he stands under a lamp, I shall not see him,” he said to
+himself, and lighted a cigar to indicate his whereabouts to Roden,
+should he elect to keep the appointment. When he had gone a few paces
+farther he saw someone coming towards him. There was a lamp halfway
+between them, and, as he approached the light, Cornish recognized
+Roden. There was no mistaking the long loose stride.
+
+“I wonder,” said Cornish, “if this is going to the end?”
+
+And he went forward to meet the financier.
+
+“I was afraid you would not come,” he said, in a voice that was
+friendly enough, for he was a man of the world, and in that which is
+called Society (with a capital letter) had rubbed elbows all his life
+with many who had no better reputation than Percy Roden, and some who
+deserved a worse.
+
+“Oh, I don't mind coming,” answered Roden, “because I did not want to
+keep you waiting here in the dark. But it is no good, I tell you that
+at the outset.”
+
+“And nothing I can say will alter your decision?”
+
+“Nothing. A man does not get two such chances as this in his lifetime. I
+am not going to throw this one away for the sake of a sentiment.”
+
+“Sentiment hardly describes the case,” said Cornish, thoughtfully. “Do
+you mean to tell me that you do not care about all these deaths--about
+these poor devils of malgamiters?” And he looked hard at his companion
+beneath the lamp.
+
+“Not a d--n,” answered Roden. “I have been poor--you haven't. Why, man!
+I have starved inside a good coat. You don't know what that means.”
+
+Cornish looked at him, and said nothing. There was no mistaking the
+man's sincerity--nor the manner in which his voice suddenly broke when
+he spoke of hunger.
+
+“Then there are only two things left for me to do,” said Cornish, after
+a moment's reflection. “Ask your sister to marry me first, and smash
+you up afterwards.”
+
+Roden, who was smoking, threw his cigarette away. “You mean to do both
+these things?”
+
+“Both.”
+
+Roden looked at him. He opened his lips to speak, but suddenly leapt
+back.
+
+“Look out!” he cried, and had barely time to point over Cornish's
+shoulder.
+
+Cornish swung round on his heel. He belonged to a school and generation
+which, with all its faults, has, at all events, the redeeming quality
+of courage. He had long learnt to say the right thing, which
+effectually teaches men to do the right thing also. He saw some one
+running towards him, noiselessly, in rubber shoes. He had no time to
+think, and scarce a moment in which to act, for the man was but two
+steps away with an upraised arm, and in the lamplight there flashed the
+gleam of steel.
+
+Cornish concentrated his attention on the upraised arm, seizing it with
+both hands, and actually swinging his assailant off his legs. He knew
+in an instant who it was, without needing to recognize the smell of
+malgamite. This was Otto von Holzen, who had not hesitated to state his
+opinion--that it is often worth a man's while to kill another.
+
+While his feet were still off the ground, Cornish let him go, and he
+staggered away into the darkness of the trees. Cornish, who was lithe
+and quick, rather than of great physical force, recovered his balance
+in a moment, and turned to face the trees. He knew that Von Holzen
+would come back. He distinctly hoped that he would. For man is
+essentially the first of the “game” animals and beneath fine clothes
+there nearly always beats a heart ready, quite suddenly, to snatch the
+fearful joy of battle.
+
+Von Holzen did not disappoint him, but came flying on silent feet, like
+some beast of prey, from the darkness. Cornish had played half-back for
+his school not so many years before. He collared Von Holzen low, and
+let him go, with a cruel skill, heavily on his head and shoulder. Not a
+word had been spoken, and, in the stillness of the summer night, each
+could hear the other breathing.
+
+Roden stood quite still. He could scarcely distinguish the antagonists.
+His own breath came whistling through his teeth. His white face was
+ghastly and twitching. His sleepy eyes were awake now, and staring.
+
+Each charge had left Cornish nearer to the canal. He was standing now
+quite at the edge. He could smell, but he could not see the water, and
+dared not turn his head to look. There is no railing here as there is
+nearer the town.
+
+In a moment, Von Holzen was on his feet again. In the dark, mere inches
+are much equalized between men--but Von Holzen had a knife. Cornish, who
+held nothing in his hands, knew that he was at a fatal disadvantage.
+
+Again, Von Holzen ran at him with his arm outstretched for a swinging
+stab. Cornish, in a flash of thought, recognized that he could not meet
+this. He stepped neatly aside. Von Holzen attempted to stop stumbled,
+half recovered himself, and fell headlong into the canal.
+
+In a moment Cornish and Roden were at the edge, peering into the
+darkness. Cornish gave a breathless laugh.
+
+“We shall have to fish him out,” he said.
+
+And he knelt down, ready to give a hand to Von Holzen. But the water,
+smooth again now, was not stirred by so much as a ripple.
+
+“Suppose he can swim?” muttered Roden, uneasily.
+
+And they waited in a breathless silence. There was something horrifying
+in the single splash, and then the stillness.
+
+“Gad!” whispered Cornish. “Where is he?”
+
+Roden struck a match, and held it inside his hat so as to form a sort
+of lantern, though the air was still enough. Cornish did the same, and
+they held the lights out over the water, throwing the feeble rays right
+across the canal.
+
+“He cannot have swum away,” he said. “Von Holzen,” he cried out
+cautiously, after another pause--“Von Holzen--where are you?”
+
+But there was no answer.
+
+The surface of the canal was quite still and glassy in those parts that
+were not covered by the close-lying duck-weed. The water crept
+stealthily, slimily, towards the sea.
+
+The two men held their breath and waited. Cornish was kneeling at the
+edge of the water, peering over.
+
+“Where is he?” he repeated. “Gad! Roden, where is he?”
+
+And Roden, in a hoarse voice, answered at length “He is in the mud at
+the bottom--head downwards.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+AT THE CORNER.
+
+“L'homme s'agite et Dieu le mêne.”
+
+
+The two men on the edge of the canal waited and listened again. It
+seemed still possible that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness--had
+perhaps landed safely and unperceived on the other side.
+
+“This,” said Cornish, at length, “is a police affair. Will you wait here
+while I go and fetch them?”
+
+But Roden made no answer, and in the sudden silence Cornish heard the
+eerie sound of chattering teeth. Percy Roden had morally collapsed.
+His mind had long been t a great tension, and this shock had unstrung
+him. Cornish seized him by the arm, and held him while he hook like a
+leaf and swayed heavily.
+
+“Come, man,” said Cornish, kindly--“come, pull yourself together.”
+
+He held him steadily and patiently until the shaking eased.
+
+“I'll go,” said Roden, at length. “I couldn't stay ere alone.”
+
+And he staggered away towards The Hague. It seemed hours before he came
+back. A carriage rattled past Cornish while he waited there, and two
+foot-passengers paused for a moment to look at him with some suspicion.
+
+At last Roden returned, accompanied by a police official--a phlegmatic
+Dutchman, who listened to the story in silence. He shook his head at
+Cornish's suggestion, made in halting Dutch mingled with German, that
+Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness.
+
+“No,” said the officer, “I know these canals--and this above all others.
+They will find him, planted in the mud at the bottom, head downward
+like a tulip. The head goes in and the hands are powerless, for they
+only grasp soft mud like a fresh junket.” He drew his short sword from
+its sheath, and scratched a deep mark in the gravel. Then he turned to
+the nearest tree, and made a notch on the bark with the blade. “There
+is nothing to be done tonight,” he said philosophically. “There are men
+engaged in dredging the canal. I will set them to work at dawn before
+the world is astir. In the mean time”--he paused to return his sword to
+its scabbard--“in the meantime I must have the names and residence of
+these gentlemen. It is not for me to believe or disbelieve their
+story.”
+
+“Can you go home alone? Are you all right now?” Cornish asked Roden, as
+he walked away with him towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+“Yes, I can go home alone,” he answered, and walked on by himself,
+unsteadily.
+
+Cornish watched him, and, before he had gone twenty yards, Roden
+stopped. “Cornish!” he shouted.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+And they walked towards each other.
+
+“I did not know that Von Holzen was there. You will believe that?”
+
+“Yes; I will believe that,” answered Cornish.
+
+And they parted a second time. Cornish walked slowly back to the hotel.
+He limped a little, for Von Holzen had in the struggle kicked him on
+the ankle. He suddenly felt very tired, but was not shaken. On the
+contrary, he felt relieved, as if that which he had been attempting so
+long had been suddenly taken from his hands and consummated by a higher
+power, with whom all responsibility rested. He went to bed with a
+mechanical deliberation, and slept instantly. The daylight was
+streaming into the window when he awoke. No one sleeps very heavily at
+The Hague--no one knows why--and Cornish awoke with all his senses
+about him at the opening of his bedroom door. Roden had come in and was
+standing by the bedside. His eyes had a sleepless look. He looked,
+indeed, as if he had been up all night, and had just had a bath.
+
+“I say,” he said, in his hollow voice--“I say, get up. They have found
+him--and we are wanted. We have to go and identify him--and all that.”
+
+While Cornish was dressing, Roden sat heavily down on a chair near the
+window.
+
+“Hope you'll stick by me,” he said, and, pausing, stretched out his
+hand to the washing-stand to pour himself out a glass of water--“I hope
+you'll stick by me. I'm so confoundedly shaky. Don't know what it
+is--look at my hand.” He held out his hand, which shook like a
+drunkard's.
+
+“That is only nerves,” said Cornish, who was ever optimistic and
+cheerful. He was too wise to weigh carefully his reasons for looking at
+the best side of events. “That is nothing. You have not slept, I
+expect.”
+
+“No; I've been thinking. I say, Cornish--you must stick by me--I have
+been thinking. What am I to do with the malgamiters? I cannot manage
+the devils as Von Holzen did. I'm--I'm a bit afraid of them, Cornish.”
+
+“Oh, that will be all right. Why, we have Wade, and can send for White
+if we want him. Do not worry yourself about that. What you want is
+breakfast. Have you had any?”
+
+“No. I left the house before Dorothy was awake or the servants were
+down. She knows nothing. Dorothy and I have not hit it off lately.”
+
+Cornish made no answer. He was ringing the bell, and ordered coffee
+when the waiter came.
+
+“Haven't met any incident in life yet,” he said cheerfully, “that
+seemed to justify missing out meals.”
+
+The incident that awaited them was not, however, a pleasant one, though
+the magistrate in attendance afforded a courteous assistance in the
+observance of necessary formalities. Both men made a deposition before
+him.
+
+“I know something,” he said to Cornish, “of this malgamite business. We
+have had our eye upon Von Holzen for some time--if only on account of
+the death-rate of the city.”
+
+They breathed more freely when they were out in the street. Cornish
+made some unimportant remark, which the other did not answer. So they
+walked on in silence. Presently, Cornish glanced at his companion, and
+was startled at the sight of his face, which was grey, and glazed all
+over with perspiration, as an actor's face may sometimes be at the end
+of a great act. Then he remembered that Roden had not spoken for a long
+time.
+
+“What is the matter?” he asked.
+
+“Didn't you see?” gasped Roden.
+
+“See what?”
+
+“The things they had laid on the table beside him. The things they
+found in his hands and his pockets.”
+
+“The knife, you mean,” said Cornish, whose nerves were worthy of the
+blood that flowed in his veins, “and some letters?”
+
+“Yes; the knife was mine. Everybody knows it. It is an old dagger that
+has always lain on a table in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes.”
+
+“I have never been in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes, except
+once by lamplight,” said Cornish, indifferently.
+
+Roden turned and looked at him with eyes still dull with fear.
+
+“And among the letters was the one you wrote to me making the
+appointment. He must have stolen it from the pocket of my office coat,
+which I never wear while I am working.” Cornish was nodding his head
+slowly. “I see,” he said, at length--“I see. It was a pretty _coup_. To
+kill me, and fix the crime on you--and hang you?”
+
+“Yes,” said Roden, with a sudden laugh, which neither forgot to his
+dying day.
+
+They walked on in silence. For there are times in nearly every man's
+life when events seem suddenly to outpace thought, and we can only act
+as seems best at the moment; times when the babbler is still and the
+busybody at rest; times when the cleverest of us must recognize that
+the long and short of it all is that man agitates himself and God leads
+him. At the corner of the Vyverberg they parted--Cornish to return to
+his hotel, Roden to go back to the works. His carriage was awaiting him
+in a shady corner of the Binnenhof. For Roden had his carriage now,
+and, like many possessing suddenly such a vehicle, spent much time and
+thought in getting his money's worth out of it.
+
+“If you want me, send for me, or come to the hotel,” were Cornish's
+last words, as he shut the successful financier into his brougham.
+
+At the hotel, Cornish found Mr. Wade and Marguerite lingering over a
+late breakfast.
+
+“You look,” said Marguerite, “as if you had been up to something.” She
+glanced at him shrewdly. “Have you smashed Roden's Corner?” she asked.
+
+“Yes,” answered Cornish, turning to Mr. Wade; “and if you will come out
+into the garden, I will tell you how it has been done. Monsieur Creil
+said that the paper-makers could begin supplying themselves with
+malgamite at a day's notice. We must give them that notice this
+morning.”
+
+Mr. Wade, who was never hurried and never late, paused at the open
+window to light his cigar before following Marguerite.
+
+“Ah,” he said placidly, “then fortune must have favored you, or
+something has happened to Von Holzen.”
+
+Cornish knew that it was useless to attempt to conceal anything
+whatsoever from the discerning Marguerite, so--in the quiet garden of
+the hotel, where the doves murmur sleepily on the tiles, and the breeze
+only stirs the flowers and shrubs sufficiently to disseminate their
+scents--he told father and daughter the end of Roden's Corner.
+
+They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and
+telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events,
+when Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
+
+She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden
+arrival.
+
+“Is Percy here?” she asked Cornish. “Have you seen him this morning?”
+
+“He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the
+Vyverberg. He was going down to the works.”
+
+“Then he never got there,” said Dorothy. “I have had nearly all the
+malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if
+Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a
+report that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?” “Yes. Von Holzen is
+dead.”
+
+“And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out
+the profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury.
+They would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but----”
+
+“But they were afraid of you, my dear,” said Mr. Wade, filling in the
+blank that Dorothy left.
+
+“Yes,” she admitted.
+
+“Well played,” muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
+
+Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. “I will go down to
+the works,” he said.
+
+“But you cannot go there alone,” put in Dorothy, quickly.
+
+“He will not need to do that,” said Mr. Wade, throwing the end of his
+cigar into the bushes, and rising heavily from his chair.
+
+Marguerite looked at her father with a little upward jerk of the head
+and a light in her eyes. It was quite evident that she approved of the
+old gentleman.
+
+“He's a game old thing,” she said, aside to Dorothy, while her father
+collected his papers.
+
+“Your brother has probably been warned in time, and will not go near
+the works,” said Cornish to Dorothy. “He was more than prepared for
+such an emergency; for he told me himself that he was half afraid of
+the men. He is almost sure to come to me here--in fact, he promised to
+do so if he wanted help.”
+
+Dorothy looked at him, and said nothing. The world would be a simpler
+dwelling-place if those who, for one reason or another, cannot say
+exactly what they mean would but keep silence.
+
+Cornish told her, hurriedly, what had happened twelve hours ago on the
+bank of the Queen's Canal; and the thought of the misspent, crooked
+life that had ended in the black waters of that sluggish tideway made
+them all silent for a while. For death is in itself dignified, and
+demands respect for all with whom he has dealings. Many attain the
+distinction of vice in life, while more only reach the mere mediocrity
+of foolishness; but in death all are equally dignified. We may, indeed,
+assume that we shall, by dying, at last command the respect of even our
+nearest relations and dearest friend--for a week or two, until they
+forget us.
+
+“He was a clever man,” commented Mr. Wade, shutting up his gold pencil
+case and putting it in the pocket of his comfortable waistcoat. “But
+clever men are rarely happy----”
+
+“And clever women--never,” added Marguerite--that shrewd seeker after
+the last word.
+
+While they were still speaking, Percy Roden came hurriedly down the
+steps. He was pale and tired, but his eye had a light of resolution in
+it. He held his head up, and looked at Cornish with a steady glance.
+It seemed that the vague danger which he had anticipated so nervously
+had come at last, and that he stood like a man in the presence of it.
+
+“It is all up,” he said. “They have found the books; they have
+understood them; and they are wrecking the place.”
+
+“They are quite welcome to do that,” said Cornish. Mr. Wade, who was
+always business-like, had reopened his writing-case when he saw Roden,
+and now came forward to hand him a written paper.
+
+“That is a copy,” he said, “of the telegram we have sent to Creil. He
+can come here and select what men he wants--the steady ones and the
+skilled workmen. With each man we will hand him a cheque in trust. The
+others can take their money--and go.”
+
+“And drink themselves to death as expeditiously as they think fit,”
+ added Cornish, the philanthropist--the fashionable drawing-room
+champion of the masses.
+
+“I got back here through the Wood,” said Percy Roden, who was still
+breathless, as if he had been hurrying. “One of them, a Swede, came to
+warn me. They are looking for me in the town--a hundred and twenty of
+them, and not one who cares that”--he paused, and gave a snap of the
+fingers--“for his life or the law. Both railway stations are watched,
+and all the steam-boat stations on the canals; they will kill me if
+they catch me.”
+
+His eyes wavered, for there is nothing more terrifying than the avowed
+hostility of a mass of men, and no law grimmer than lynch-law. Yet he
+held up his head with a sort of pride in his danger--some touch of that
+subtle sense of personal distinction which seems to reach the heart of
+the victim of an accident, or of a prisoner in the dock.
+
+“If I had not met that Swede I should have gone on to the works, and
+they would have pulled me to pieces there,” continued Roden. “I do not
+know how I am to get away from The Hague, or where I shall be safe in
+the whole world; but the money is at Hamburg and Antwerp. The money is
+safe enough.”
+
+He gave a laugh and threw back his head. His hearers looked at him, and
+Mr. Wade alone understood his thoughts. For the banker had dealt with
+money-makers all his life and knew that to many men, money is a god,
+and the mere possession of it dearer to them than life itself.
+
+“If you stay here, in my room upstairs,” said Cornish, “I will go down
+to the works now. And this evening I will try and get you away from The
+Hague--and from Europe.”
+
+“And I will go to the Villa des Dunes again,” added Dorothy, “and pack
+your things.”
+
+Marguerite had risen also, and was moving towards the steps.
+
+“Where are you going?” asked her father.
+
+“To the Villa des Dunes,” she replied; and, turning to Dorothy, added,
+“I shall take some clothes and stay with you there until things
+straighten themselves out a bit.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“Because I cannot let you go there alone.”
+
+“Why not?” asked Dorothy.
+
+“Because--I am not that sort,” said Marguerite; and, turning, she
+ascended the iron steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+ROUND THE CORNER.
+
+“Les heureux ne rient pas; ils sourient.”
+
+
+Soon after Mr. Wade and Cornish had quitted their carriage, on that
+which is known as the New Scheveningen Road, and were walking across
+the dunes to the malgamite works, they met a policeman running towards
+them.
+
+“It is,” he answered breathlessly, to their inquiries--“it is the
+English Chemical Works on the dunes, which have caught fire. I am
+hurrying to the Artillery Station to telegraph for the fire-engines;
+but it will be useless. It will all be over in half an hour--by this
+wind and after so much dry weather; see the black smoke, excellencies.”
+
+And the man pointed towards a column of smoke, blown out over the
+sand-hills by the strong wind, characteristic of these flat coasts.
+Then, with a hurried salutation, he ran on.
+
+Cornish and Mr. Wade proceeded more leisurely on their way; for the
+banker was not of a build to hurry even to a fire. Before they had gone
+far they perceived another man coming across the Dunes towards The
+Hague. As he approached, Cornish recognized the man known as Uncle Ben.
+He was shambling along on unsteady legs, and carried his earthly
+belongings in a canvas sack of doubtful cleanliness. The recognition
+was apparently mutual; for Uncle Ben deviated from his path to come and
+speak to them.
+
+“It's me, mister,” he said to Cornish, not disrespectfully. “And I
+don't mind tellin' yer that I'm makin' myself scarce. That place is
+gettin' a bit too hot for me. They're just pullin' it down and makin' a
+bonfire of it. And if you or Mr. Roden goes there, they'll just take
+and chuck yer on top of it--and that's God's truth. They're a rough lot
+some of them, and they don't distinguish 'tween you and Mr. Roden like
+as I do. Soddim and Gomorrer, I say. Soddim and Gomorrer! There won't
+be nothin' left of yer in half an hour.” And he turned and shook a
+dirty fist towards the rising smoke, which was all that remained of the
+malgamite works. He hurried on a few paces, then stopped and laid down
+his bag. He ran back, calling out “Mister!” as he neared Cornish and
+Mr. Wade. “I don't mind tellin' yer,” he said to Cornish, with a
+ludicrous precautionary look round the deserted dunes to make sure that
+he would not be overheard; for he was sober, and consequently
+stupid--“I don't mind tellin' yer--seein' as I'm makin' myself scarce,
+and for the sake o' Miss Roden, who has always been a good friend to
+me--as there's a hundred and twenty of 'em looking for Mr. Roden at this
+minute, meanin' to twist his neck; and what's worse, there's
+others--men of dedication like myself--who has gone to the
+murder, or something. And they'll get it too, with the story they've got
+to tell, and them poor devils planted thick as taters in the cheap corner
+of the cemetery. I've warned yer, mister.” Uncle Ben expectorated with
+much emphasis, looked towards the malgamite works with a dubious shake
+of the head, and went on his way, muttering, “Soddim and Gomorrer.”
+
+His hearers walked on over the sand-hills towards the smoke, of which
+the pungent odour, still faintly suggestive of sealing-wax, reached
+their nostrils. At the top of a high dune, surmounted with considerable
+difficulty, Mr. Wade stopped. Cornish stood beside him, and from that
+point of vantage they saw the last of the malgamite works. Amid the
+flames and smoke the forms of men flitted hither and thither, adding
+fuel to the fire.
+
+“They are, at all events, doing the business thoroughly,” said the
+banker. “And there is nothing to be gained by our disturbing them at
+it--and a good deal to be lost--namely, our lives. They are not burning
+the cottages, I see; only the factory. There is nothing heroic about
+me, Tony. Let us go back.”
+
+But Mr. Wade returned to The Hague alone; for Cornish had matters of
+importance requiring his attention. It was now doubly necessary to get
+Roden safely away from Holland, and with the necessity increased the
+difficulty. For Holland is a small country, well watched, highly
+civilized. Cornish knew that it would be next to impossible for Roden
+to leave the country by rail or road. There remained, therefore, the
+sea. Cornish had, during his sojourn at the humble Swan at
+Scheveningen, made certain friends there. And it was to the old village
+under the dunes, little known to visitors, and a place apart from the
+fashionable bathing resort, that he went in his difficulty. He spent
+nearly the whole day in these narrow streets; indeed, he lunched at the
+Swan in company of a seafaring gentleman clad in soft blue flannel, and
+addicted to the mediaeval coiffure still affected in certain parts of
+Zeeland.
+
+From this quiet retreat Cornish also wrote a note to Dorothy at the
+Villa des Dunes, informing her of Roden's new danger, and warning her
+not to attempt to communicate with her brother, or even send him his
+baggage. In the afternoon Cornish made a few purchases, which he duly
+packed in a sailor's kit-bag, and at nightfall Roden arrived on foot.
+
+The weather was squally, as it often is in August on these coasts;
+indeed, the summer seemed to have come to an end before its time.
+
+“It is raining like the deuce,” said Roden, “and I am wet through,
+though I came under the trees of the Oude Weg.”
+
+He spoke with his usual suggestion of a grievance, which made Cornish
+answer him rather curtly--“We shall be wetter before we get on board.”
+
+It was raining when they quitted the modest Swan, and hurried through
+the sparsely lighted, winding streets. Cornish had borrowed two
+oil-skin coats and caps, which at once disguised them and protected
+them from the rain. Any passer-by would have taken them for a couple of
+fishermen going about their business. But there were few in the
+streets.
+
+“Why are you doing all this for me?” asked Roden, suddenly.
+“To avoid a scandal,” replied Cornish, truthfully enough; for he had
+been brought up in a world where the longevity of scandal is fully
+understood.
+
+The wide stretch of sand was entirely deserted when they emerged from
+the narrow streets and gained the summit of the sea-wall. A
+thunderstorm was growling in the distance, and every moment a flash of
+thin summer lightning shimmered on the horizon. The wind was strong, as
+it nearly always is here, and shallow white surf stretched seaward
+across the flats. The sea roared continuously without that rise and
+fall of the breakers which marks a deeper coast, and from the face of
+the water there arose a filmy mist--part foam, part phosphorescence.
+
+As Roden and Cornish passed the little lighthouse, two policemen
+emerged from the shadow of the wall, and watched them, half
+suspiciously. “Good evening,” said one of them.
+
+“Good evening,” answered Cornish, mimicking the sing-song accent of the
+Scheveningen streets.
+
+They walked on in silence.
+“Whew!” ejaculated Roden, when the danger seemed to be past, and they
+could breathe again.
+
+They went down a flight of steps to the beach, and stumbled across the
+soft sand towards the sea. One or two boats were lying out in the
+surf--heavy Dutch fishing-boats, known technically as “pinks,”
+ flat-bottomed, round-prowed, keel less, heavy and ungainly vessels, but
+strong as wood and iron and workmanship could make them. Some seemed to
+be afloat, others bumped heavily and continuously; while a few lay
+stolidly on the ground with the waves breaking right over them as over
+rocks.
+
+The noise of the sea was so great that Cornish touched his companion's
+arm, and pointed, without speaking, to one of the vessels where a light
+twinkled feebly through the spray breaking over her. It seemed to be
+the only vessel preparing to go to sea on the high tide, and, in truth,
+the weather looked anything but encouraging.
+
+“How are we going to get on board?” shouted Roden, amid the roar of the
+waves.
+
+“Walk,” answered Cornish, and he led the way into the sea.
+
+Hampered as they were by their heavy oil skins, their progress was
+slow, although the water barely reached their knees. The _Three
+Brothers_ was bumping when they reached her and clambered on board over
+the bluff sides, sticky with salt water and tar.
+
+“She'll be afloat in ten minutes,” said a man in oil-skins, who helped
+them over the low bulwarks. He spoke good English, and seemed to have
+learned some of the taciturnity of the seafaring portion of that nation
+with their language; for he went aft to the tiller without more words
+and took his station there.
+
+Roden seated himself on the rail and looked back towards Scheveningen.
+Cornish stood beside him in silence. The spray broke over them
+continuously, and the boat rolled and bumped in such a manner that it
+was impossible to stand or even sit without holding on to the clumsy
+rigging.
+
+The lights of Scheveningen were stretched out in a line before them;
+the lighthouse winked a glaring eye that seemed to stare over their
+heads far out to sea. The summer lightning showed the sands to be bare
+and deserted. There were no unusual lights on the sea wall. The Kurhaus
+and the hotels were illuminated and gay. The shore took no heed of the
+sea tonight.
+
+“We've succeeded,” said Roden, curtly, and quite suddenly he rolled
+over in a faint at Cornish's feet.
+
+The next morning, Dorothy received a letter at the Villa des Dunes,
+posted the evening before by Cornish at Scheveningen.
+
+“We hope to get away tonight,” he wrote, “in the 'pink,' the _Three
+Brothers_. Our intention is to knock about the North Sea until we find
+a suitable vessel--either a sailing ship trading between Norway and
+Spain on its way south, or a steamer going direct from Hamburg to South
+America. When I have seen your brother safely on board one of these
+vessels, I shall return in the _Three Brothers_ to Scheveningen. She is
+a small boat, and has a large white patch of new canvas at the top of
+her mainsail. So if you see her coming in, or waiting for the tide, you
+may conclude that your brother is in safety.”
+
+Later in the day, Mr. Wade called, having driven from The Hague very
+comfortably in an open carriage.
+
+“The house,” he said placidly, “is still watched, but I have no doubt
+that Tony has outwitted them all. Creil arrived last night, and seems a
+capable man. He tells me that half of the malgamiters are in jail at
+The Hague for intoxication and uproariousness last night. He is
+selecting those he wants, and the rest he will send to their homes. So
+we are balancing our affairs very comfortably; and if there is anything
+I can do for you, Miss Roden, I am at your command.”
+
+“Oh, Dorothy is all right,” said Marguerite, rather hurriedly; and when
+her father took his leave, she slipped her hand within his solid arm,
+and walked with him across the sand towards the carriage. “Haven't you
+seen,” she asked--“you old stupid!--that Dorothy is all right? Tony is
+in love with her.”
+
+“No,” replied the banker, rather humbly--“no, my dear. I am afraid I
+had not noticed it.”
+
+Marguerite pressed his arm, not unkindly. “You can't help it,” she
+explained. “You are only a man, you know.”
+
+The following days were quiet enough at the Villa des Dunes, and it is
+in quiet days that a friendship ripens best. The two girls left there
+scarcely expected to hear of Cornish's return for some days; but they
+fell into the habit of walking towards the sea whenever they went
+out-of-doors, and spent many afternoon hours on the dunes. During these
+hours Dorothy had many confidential and lively conversations with her
+new-found friend. Indeed, confidence and gaiety were so bewilderingly
+mingled that Dorothy did not always understand her companion.
+
+One afternoon, three days after the departure of Percy Roden, when Von
+Holzen was buried, and the authorities had expressed themselves content
+with the verdict that he had come accidentally by his death, Marguerite
+took occasion to congratulate herself, and all concerned, in the fact
+that what she vaguely called “things” were beginning to straighten
+themselves out.
+
+“We are round the corner,” she said decisively. “And now papa and I
+shall go home again, and Miss Williams will come back. Miss
+Williams--oh, lord! She is one of those women who have a stick inside
+them instead of a heart. And papa will trot out his young men--likely
+young men from the city. Papa married the bank, you know. And he wants
+ me to marry another bank and live gorgeously ever afterwards. Poor old
+dear!”
+
+“I think he would rather you were happy than gorgeous,” said Dorothy,
+with a laugh, who had seen some of the honest banker's perplexity with
+regard to this most delicate financial affair.
+
+“Perhaps he would. At all events, he does his best--his very best. He
+has tried at least fifty of these gentle swains since I came back from
+Dresden--red hair and a temper, black hair and an excellent opinion of
+one's self, fair hair and stupidity. But they wouldn't do--they
+wouldn't do, Dorothy!”
+
+Marguerite paused, and made a series of holes in the sand with her
+walking-stick.
+
+“There was only one,” she said quietly, at length. “I suppose there is
+always--only one--eh, Dorothy?”
+
+“I suppose so,” answered Dorothy, looking straight in front of her.
+
+Marguerite was silent for a while, looking out to sea with a queer
+little twist of the lips that made her look older--almost a woman. One
+could imagine what she would be like when she was middle-aged, or quite
+old, perhaps.
+
+“He would have done,” she said. “Quite easily. He was a million times
+cleverer than the rest--a million times--well, he was quite different,
+I don't know how. But he was paternal. He thought he was much too old,
+so he didn't try----”
+
+She broke off with a light laugh, and her confidential manner was gone
+in a flash. She stuck her stick firmly into the ground, and threw
+herself back on the soft sand.
+
+“So,” she cried gaily. _“Vogue la galère_. It's all for the best. That
+is the right thing to say when it cannot be helped, and it obviously
+isn't for the best. But everybody says it, and it is always wise to
+pass in with the crowd, and be conventional--if you swing for it.”
+
+She broke off suddenly, looking at her companion's face. A few boats
+had been leisurely making for the shore all the afternoon before a
+light wind, and Dorothy had been watching them. They were coming closer
+now.
+
+“Dorothy, do you see the _Three Brothers_?”
+
+“That is the _Three Brothers_,” answered Dorothy, pointing with her
+walking-stick.
+
+For a time they were silent, until, indeed, the boat with the patched
+sail had taken the ground gently, a few yards from the shore. A number
+of men landed from her, some of them carrying baskets of fish. One,
+walking apart, made for the dunes, in the direction of the New
+Scheveningen Road.
+
+“And that is Tony,” said Marguerite. “I should know his walk--if I saw
+him coming out of the Ark, which, by the way, must have been rather
+like the _Three Brothers_ to look at. He has taken your brother safely
+away, and now he is coming--to take you.”
+
+“He may remember that I am Percy's sister,” suggested Dorothy.
+
+“It doesn't matter whose sister you are,” was the decisive reply.
+“Nothing matters”--Marguerite rose slowly, and shook the sand from her
+dress--“nothing matters, except one thing, and that appears to be a
+matter of absolute chance.”
+
+She climbed slowly to the summit of the dune under which they had been
+sitting, and there, pausing, she looked back. She nodded gaily down at
+Dorothy. Then suddenly, she held out her hands before her, and Cornish,
+looking up, saw her slim young form poised against the sky in a mock
+attitude of benediction.
+
+“Bless you, my dears,” she cried, and with a short laugh turned and
+walked towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9324-0.txt or 9324-0.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/9/3/2/9324/
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/9324-0.zip b/9324-0.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d88801
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-0.zip
diff --git a/9324-8.txt b/9324-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a8d242
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,10317 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+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: Roden's Corner
+
+Author: Henry Seton Merriman
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9324]
+This file was first posted on September 22, 2003
+Last Updated: May 5, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RODEN'S CORNER
+
+By Henry Seton Merriman
+
+1913
+
+
+                  "'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
+                  Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
+                    Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
+                  And one by one back in the Closet lays"
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT
+
+II. WORK OK PLAY?
+
+III. BEGINNING AT HOME
+
+IV. A NEW DISCIPLE
+
+V. OUT OF EGYPT
+
+VI. ON THE DUNES
+
+VII. OFFICIAL
+
+VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE
+
+IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST
+
+X. DEEPER WATER
+
+XI. IN THE OUDE WEG
+
+XII. SUBURBAN
+
+XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN
+
+XIV. UNSOUND
+
+XV. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVI. DANGER
+
+XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVIII. A COMPLICATION
+
+XIX. DANGER
+
+XX. FROM THE PAST
+
+XXI. A COMBINED FORCE
+
+XXII. GRATITUDE
+
+XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT
+
+XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT
+
+XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
+
+XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM
+
+XXVII. COMMERCE
+
+XXVIII. WITH CARE
+
+XXIX. A LESSON
+
+XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL
+
+XXXI. AT THE CORNER
+
+XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
+
+"The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life."
+
+
+"It is the Professor von Holzen," said a stout woman who still keeps
+the egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague;
+she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob
+Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers
+live--"it is the Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or
+twice a week. He is a good man."
+
+"His coat is of a good cloth," answered her customer, a young man with
+a melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things
+of this world.
+
+Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
+Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within
+the doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages.
+During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough,
+see furtive faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women,
+who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those
+unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere
+which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop
+below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into the
+service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils
+which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and
+thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors,
+with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only
+expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other
+heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within
+the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous
+effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this street. Even the
+children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes and
+drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life, and
+rarely indulge in games.
+
+He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed
+quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire
+to attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered
+man with a bad mouth--a greedy mouth, one would think--and mild eyes.
+The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black overcoat
+closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of
+slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke
+learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use
+being learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took
+care to dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards
+the world seemed to say, "Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,"
+which is, after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It
+is, at all events, better than the common attitude of the many, that
+says, "Let us exchange confidences," leading to the barter of two
+valueless commodities.
+
+The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat--one of
+the oldest houses in this old street--and slowly lighted a cigar. There
+is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of
+stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen,
+having pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and
+grimy staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the
+town there is always a human spider lurking in the background, who
+steals out upon any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
+
+This spider presently appeared--a wizened woman with a face like that
+of a witch. Von Holzen pointed upward to the room above them. She shook
+her head regretfully.
+
+"Still alive," she said.
+
+And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom
+step.
+
+"Here," he said, extending his fingers. "Some milk. How much has he
+had?"
+
+"Two jugs," she replied, "and three jugs of water. One would say he has
+a fire inside him."
+
+"So he has," said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went
+upstairs. He ascended slowly, puffing out the smoke of his cigar before
+him with a certain skill, so that his progress was a form of
+fumigation. The fear of infection is the only fear to which men will
+own, and it is hard to understand why this form of cowardice should be
+less despicable than others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation
+combines courage with so deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes
+think the former adjunct lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek
+told that in his student days this man had, after due deliberation,
+considered it necessary to fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face,
+might wonder what mark the other student bore as a memento of that
+encounter.
+
+Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
+and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place
+was not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered
+with many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was,
+indeed, used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the
+shop only offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have
+been a very Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all
+parts of the world rose up and wrangled in the air.
+
+Upon a sham Empire table, _tr�s antique_, near the window, stood three
+water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
+stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held
+it out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
+
+"I have sent for milk," said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful
+not to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was
+situated.
+
+"You are kind," said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether
+its tone was sarcastic or grateful.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged
+his shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth
+usually indicates a soft heart.
+
+"It is because you have something to gain," said the hollow voice from
+the bed.
+
+"I have something to gain, but I can do without it," replied Von
+Holzen, turning to the door and taking a jug of milk from the hand of a
+child waiting there.
+
+"And the change," he said sharply.
+
+The child laughed cunningly, and held out two small copper coins of the
+value of half a cent.
+
+Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a
+moment later held it out empty.
+
+"You may have as much as you like," said Von Holzen, kindly.
+
+"Will it keep me alive?"
+
+"Nothing can do that, my friend," answered Von Holzen. He looked down
+at the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be
+the face of a very aged man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A
+thickness of speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
+
+The man laughed gleefully. "All the same, I have lived longer than any
+of them," he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an
+advantage which others never covet!
+
+"Yes," answered Von Holzen, gravely. "How old are you?"
+
+"Nearly thirty-five," was the answer.
+
+Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of
+the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a
+fine one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high
+forehead looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing
+nearly an inch upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver in
+life, without curl or ripple. The chin was long and pointed. A face,
+this, that any would turn to look at again. One would think that such
+a man would get on in the world. But none may judge of another in this
+respect. It is a strange fact that intimacy with any who has made for
+himself a great name leads to the inevitable conclusion that he is
+unworthy of it.
+
+"Wonderful!" murmured Von Holzen--"wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!" And
+it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that
+came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
+
+"And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it
+from boyhood," said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado. "I did not
+wait until I was driven to it, like most."
+
+"Yes, you were skilful, as I have been told."
+
+"Not all skill--not all skill," piped the metallic voice, indistinctly.
+"There was knowledge also."
+
+Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin
+overcoat, shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an
+oft-trodden path to an ancient point of divergence. Presently Von
+Holzen turned and went towards the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay
+stretched out across the table, and Holzen's finger softly found the
+pulse.
+
+"You are weaker," he said. "It is only right that I should tell you."
+
+The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something
+seemed to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive
+steps moved away down the dark staircase.
+
+"Go," he said authoritatively, "for the doctor, at once." Then he came
+back towards the bed. "Will you take my price?" he said to its
+occupant. "I offer it to you for the last time."
+
+"A thousand gulden?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is too little money," replied the dying man. "Make it twelve
+hundred."
+
+Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence
+seemed to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room.
+The angel of death, not for the first time, found himself in company
+with the greed of men.
+
+"I will do that," said Von Holzen at length, "as you are dying."
+
+"Have you the money with you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah!" said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps,
+that he was sorry that he had not asked more. "Sit down," he said, "and
+write."
+
+Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil
+in readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored
+memory, the dying man dictated a prescription in a mixture of dog-Latin
+and Dutch, which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The
+money, in dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The
+prescription was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and
+the particulars as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid
+ingredients filled up another two pages.
+
+"There," said the dying man at length, "I have treated you fairly. I
+have told you all I know. Give me the money."
+
+Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow
+fingers, which closed over them.
+
+"Ah," said the recipient, "I have had more than that in my hand. I was
+rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing.
+I will treat you fairly."
+
+Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
+
+"Yes," said the other. "One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden.
+You have made no mistake."
+
+Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore
+no sign of exultation. His somewhat phlegmatic calm successfully
+concealed the fact that he had at last obtained information which he
+had long sought. A cart rattled past over the cobble-stones, making
+speech inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von
+Holzen went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching
+out for it, the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were
+tightly held by three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at
+the counterpane. Von Holzen bent over the bed and examined the face.
+The sick man's eyes were closed. Suddenly he spoke in a mumbling
+voice--"And now that you have what you want, you will go."
+
+"No," answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, "I will not do that. I will
+stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at
+all events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to
+die."
+
+"You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death
+cannot be worse, at all events." And the man laughed contentedly
+enough, as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of
+them at last.
+
+Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting
+in the air laden with the clean scent of burning peat, which makes the
+atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a
+city with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German
+scientist stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange
+silence. It was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it
+was what is known as an antiquity; and although some of these relics of
+the past had been carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem
+Straat, others were really of ancient date. The very glass from which
+the dying man drank his milk dated from the glorious days of Holland
+when William the Silent pitted his Northern stubbornness and deep
+diplomacy against the fire and fanaticism of Alva. Many objects in the
+room had a story, had been in the daily use of hands long since
+vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human lives lived out
+and now forgotten. The air itself smelt of age and mouldering memories.
+
+Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking
+down. Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow
+that lay over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was
+breathing very slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then
+returned to the dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly
+his breath caught. There were long pauses during which he seemed to
+cease to breathe. Then at length followed a pause which merged itself
+gently into eternity.
+
+Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly
+unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled notes.
+Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and
+restored them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour
+earlier.
+
+He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor
+arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
+
+"I am afraid, Herr Doctor," he said, in German, "You are too late."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+WORK OR PLAY?
+
+       "Get work, get work;
+   Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get."
+
+
+Two men were driving in a hansom cab westward through Cockspur Street.
+One, a large individual of a bovine placidity, wore the Queen's
+uniform, and carried himself with a solid dignity faintly suggestive of
+a lighthouse. The other, a narrower man, with a keen, fair face and
+eyes that had an habitual smile, wore another uniform--that of society.
+He was well dressed, and, what is rarer carried his fine clothes with
+such assurance that their fineness seemed not only natural but
+indispensable.
+
+"Sic transit the glory of this world," he was saying. At this moment
+three men on the pavement--the usual men on the pavement at such
+times--turned and looked into the cab.
+
+"'Ere's White!" cried one of them. "White--dash his eyes! Brayvo!
+brayvo, White!"
+
+And all three raised a shout which seemed to be taken up vaguely in
+various parts of Trafalgar Square, and finally died away in the
+distance.
+
+"That is it," said the young man in the frock-coat; "that is the glory
+of this world. Listen to it passing away. There is a policeman touching
+his helmet. Ah, what a thing it is to be Major White--to-day!
+To morrow--_bonjour la gloire_!"
+
+Major White, who had dropped his single eye-glass a minute earlier, sat
+squarely looking out upon the world with a mild surprise. The eye from
+which the glass had fallen was even more surprised than the other. But
+this, it seemed, was a man upon whom the passing world made, as a rule,
+but a passing impression. His attitude towards it was one of dense
+tolerance. He was, in fact, one of those men who usually allow their
+neighbours to live in a fool's-paradise, based upon the assumption of a
+blindness or a stupidity or an indifference, which may or may not be
+justified by subsequent events.
+
+This was, as Tony Cornish, his companion, had hinted, _the_ White of
+the moment. Just as the reader may be the Jones or the Tomkins of the
+moment if his soul thirst for glory. Crime and novel-writing are the
+two broad roads to notoriety, but Major White had practiced neither
+felony nor fiction. He had merely attended to his own and his country's
+business in a solid, common-sense way in one of those obscure and tight
+places into which the British officer frequently finds himself forced
+by the unwieldiness of the empire or the indiscretion of an
+effervescent press.
+
+That he had extricated himself and his command from the tight place,
+with much glory to themselves and an increased burden to the cares of
+the Colonial Office, was a fact which a grateful country was at this
+moment doing its best to recognize. That the authorities and those who
+knew him could not explain how he had done it any more than he himself
+could, was another fact which troubled him as little. Major White was
+wise in that he did not attempt to explain.
+
+"That sort of thing," he said, "generally comes right in the end." And
+the affair may thus be consigned to that pigeon-hole of the past in
+which are filed for future reference cases where brilliant men have
+failed and unlikely ones have covered themselves with sudden and
+transient glory.
+
+There had been a review of the troops that had taken part in a short
+and satisfactory expedition of which, by what is usually called a lucky
+chance, White found himself the hero. He was not of the material of
+which heroes are made; but that did not matter. The world will take a
+man and make a hero of him without pausing to inquire of what stuff he
+may be. Nay, more, it will take a man's name and glorify it without so
+much as inquiring to what manner of person the name belongs.
+
+Tony Cornish, who went everywhere and saw everything, was of course
+present at the review, and knew all the best people there. He passed
+from carriage to carriage in his smart way, saying the right thing to
+the right people in the right words, failing to see the wrong people
+quite in the best manner, and conscious of the fact that none could
+surpass him. Then suddenly, roused to a higher manhood by the tramp of
+steady feet, by the sight of his lifelong friend White riding at the
+head of his tanned warriors, this social success forgot himself. He
+waved his silk hat and shouted himself hoarse, as did the honest
+plumber at his side.
+
+"That's better work than yours nor mine, mister," said the plumber,
+when the troops were gone; and Tony admitted, with his ready smile,
+that it was so. A few minutes later Tony found Major White solemnly
+staring at a small crowd, which as solemnly stared back at him, on the
+pavement in front of the Horse Guards.
+
+"Here, I have a cab waiting for me," he had said; and White followed
+him with a mildly bewildered patience, pushing his way gently through
+the crowd as through a herd of oxen.
+
+He made no comment, and if he heard sundry whispers of "That's 'im," he
+was not unduly elated. In the cab he sat bolt upright, looking as if
+his tunic was too tight, as in all probability it was. The day was hot,
+and after a few jerks he extracted a pocket-handkerchief from his
+sleeve.
+
+"Where are you going?" he asked.
+
+"Well, I was going to Cambridge Terrace. Joan sent me a card this
+morning saying that she wanted to see me," explained Tony Cornish. He
+was a young man who seemed always busy. His long thin legs moved
+quickly, he spoke quickly, and had a rapid glance. There was a
+suggestion of superficial haste about him. For an idle man, he had
+remarkably little time on his hands.
+
+White took up his eye-glass, examined it with short-sighted
+earnestness, and screwed it solemnly into his eye.
+
+"Cambridge Terrace?" he said, and stared in front of him.
+
+"Yes. Have you seen the Ferribys since your glorious return to
+these--er--shores?" As he spoke, Cornish gave only half of his
+attention. He knew so many people that Piccadilly was a work of
+considerable effort, and it is difficult to bow gracefully from a
+hansom cab.
+
+"Can't say I have."
+
+"Then come in and see them now. We shall find only Joan at home, and
+she will not mind your fine feathers or the dust and circumstance of
+war upon your boots. Lady Ferriby will be sneaking about in the
+direction of Edgware Road--fish is nearly two pence a pound cheaper
+there, I understand. My respected uncle is sure to be sunning his
+waistcoat in Piccadilly. Yes, there he is. Isn't he splendid? How do,
+uncle?" and Cornish waved a grey Su�de glove with a gay nod.
+
+"How are the Ferribys?" inquired Major White, who belonged to the curt
+school.
+
+"Oh, they seem to be well. Uncle is full of that charity which at all
+events has its headquarters in the home counties. Aunt--well, aunt is
+saving money."
+
+"And Miss Ferriby?" inquired White, looking straight in front of him.
+
+Cornish glanced quickly at his companion. "Oh, Joan?" he answered. "She
+is all right. Full of energy, you know--all the fads in their courses."
+
+"You get 'em too."
+
+"Oh yes; I get them too. Buttonholes come and buttonholes go. Have you
+noticed it? They get large. Neapolitan violets all over your left
+shoulder one day, and no flowers at all the week after." Cornish spoke
+with a gravity befitting the subject. He was, it seemed a student of
+human nature in his way. "Of course," he added, laying an impressive
+forefinger on White's gold-laced cuff, "it would never do if the world
+remained stationary."
+
+"Never," said the major, darkly. "Never."
+
+They were talking to pass the time. Joan Ferriby had come between them,
+as a woman is bound to come between two men sooner or later. Neither
+knew what the other thought of Joan Ferriby, or if he thought of her at
+all. Women, it is to be believed, have a pleasant way of mentioning the
+name of a man with such significance that one of their party changes
+colour. When next she meets that man she does it again, and perhaps he
+sees it, and perhaps his vanity, always on the alert, magnifies that
+unfortunate blush. And they are married, and live unhappily ever
+afterwards. And--let us hope there is a hell for gossips. But men are
+different in their procedure. They are awkward and _gauche_. They talk
+of newspaper matters, and on the whole there is less harm done.
+
+The hansom cab containing these two men pulled up jerkily at the door
+of No. 9, Cambridge Terrace. Tony Cornish hurried to the door, and rang
+the bell as if he knew it well. Major White followed him stiffly. They
+were ushered into a library on the ground floor, and were there
+received by a young lady, who, pen in hand, sat at a large table
+littered with newspaper wrappers.
+
+"I am addressing the Haberdashers' Assistants," she said, "but I am
+very glad to see you."
+
+Miss Joan Ferriby was one of those happy persons who never know a
+doubt. One must, it seems, be young to enjoy this nineteenth-century
+immunity. One must be pretty--it is, at all events, better to be
+pretty--and one must dress well. A little knowledge of the world, a
+decisive way of stating what pass at the moment for facts, a quick
+manner of speaking--and the rest comes _tout seul_. This cocksureness
+is in the atmosphere of the day, just as fainting and curls and an
+appealing helplessness were in the atmosphere of an earlier Victorian
+period.
+
+Miss Ferriby stood, pen in hand, and laughed at the confusion on the
+table in front of her. She was eminently practical, and quite without
+that self-consciousness which in a bygone day took the irritating form
+of coyness. Major White, with whom she shook hands _en camarade_, gazed
+at her solemnly.
+
+"Who are the Haberdashers' Assistants?" he asked.
+
+Miss Ferriby sat down with a grave face. "Oh, it is a splendid
+charity," she answered. "Tony will tell you all about it. It is an
+association of which the object is to induce people to give up riding
+on Saturday afternoons, and to lend their bicycles to haberdashers'
+assistants who cannot afford to buy them for themselves. Papa is
+patron."
+
+Cornish looked quickly from one to the other. He had always felt that
+Major White was not quite of the world in which Joan and he moved. The
+major came into it at times, looked around him, and then moved away
+again into another world, less energetic, less advanced, less rapid in
+its changes. Cornish had never sought to interest his friend in sundry
+good works in which Joan, for instance, was interested, and which
+formed a delightful topic for conversation at teatime.
+
+"It is so splendid," said Joan, gathering up her papers, "to feel that
+one is really doing something."
+
+And she looked up into White's face with an air of grave enthusiasm
+which made him drop his eye-glass.
+
+"Oh yes," he answered, rather vaguely.
+
+Cornish had already seated himself at the table, and was folding the
+addressed newspaper wrappers over circulars printed on thick
+note-paper. This seemed a busy world into which White had stepped. He
+looked rather longingly at the newspaper wrappers and the circulars,
+and then lapsed into the contemplation of Joan's neat fingers as she
+too fell to the work.
+
+"We saw all about you," said the girl, in her bright, decisive way, "in
+the newspapers. Papa read it aloud. He is always reading things aloud
+now, out of the _Times_. He thinks it is good practice for the
+platform, I am sure. We were all"--she paused and banged her energetic
+fist down upon a pile of folded circulars which seemed to require
+further pressure--"very proud, you know, to know you."
+
+"Good Lord!" ejaculated White, fervently.
+
+"Well, why not?" asked Miss Ferriby, looking up. She had expressive
+eyes, and they now flashed almost angrily. "All English people----" she
+began, and broke off suddenly, throwing aside the papers and rising
+quickly to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on White's tunic. "Is that a
+medal?" she asked, hurrying towards him. "Oh, how splendid! Look, Tony,
+look! A medal! Is it"--she paused, looking at it closely--"is it--the
+Victoria Cross?" she asked, and stood looking from one man to the
+other, her eyes glistening with something more than excitement.
+
+"Um--yes," admitted White.
+
+Tony Cornish had risen to his feet also. He held out his hand.
+
+"I did not know that," he said.
+
+There was a pause. Tony and Joan returned to their circulars in an odd
+silence. The Haberdashers' Assistants seemed suddenly to have
+diminished in importance.
+
+"By-the-by," said Joan Ferriby at length, "papa wants to see you, Tony.
+He has a new scheme. Something very large and very important. The only
+question is whether it is not too large. It is not only in England, but
+in other countries. A great international affair. Some distressed
+manufacturers or something. I really do not quite know. That Mr.
+Roden--you remember?--has been to see him about it."
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick way. "I remember Roden," he answered. "The
+man you met at Hombourg. Tall dark man with a tired manner."
+
+"Yes," answered Joan. "He has been to see papa several times. Papa is
+just as busy as ever with his charities," she continued, addressing
+White. "And I believe he wants you to help him in this one."
+
+"Me?" said White, nervously. "Oh, I'm no good. I should not know a
+haberdasher's assistant if I saw him."
+
+"Oh, but this is not the Haberdashers' Assistants," laughed Joan. "It
+is something much more important than that. The Haberdashers'
+Assistants are only----"
+
+"Pour passer le temps," suggested Cornish, gaily.
+
+"No, of course not. But papa is really rather anxious about this. He
+says it is much the most important thing he has ever had to do
+with--and that is saying a good deal, you know. I wish I could remember
+the name of it, and of those poor unfortunate people who make
+it--whatever it is. It is some stuff, you know, and sounds sticky. Papa
+has so many charities, and such long names to them. Aunt Susan says it
+is because he was so wild in his youth--but one cannot believe that.
+Would you think that papa had been wild in his youth--to look at him
+now?"
+
+"Lord, no!" ejaculated White, with pious solidity, throwing back his
+shoulders with an air that seemed to suggest a readiness to fight any
+man who should hint at such a thing, and he waved the mere thought
+aside with a ponderous gesture of the hand.
+
+Joan had, however, already turned to another matter. She was consulting
+a diary bound in dark blue morocco.
+
+"Let me see, now," she said. "Papa told me to make an appointment with
+you. When can you come?"
+
+Cornish produced a minute engagement-book, and these two busy people
+put their heads together in the search for a disengaged moment. Not
+only in mind, but in face and manner, they slightly resembled each
+other, and might, by the keen-sighted, have been set down at once as
+cousins. Both were fair and slightly made, both were quick and clever.
+Both faced the world with an air of energetic intelligence that bespoke
+their intention of making a mark upon it. Both were liable to be
+checked in a moment of earnest endeavour by a sudden perception of the
+humorous, which liability rendered them somewhat superficial, and apt
+of it lightly from one thought to another.
+
+"I wish I could remember the name of papa's new scheme," said Joan, as
+she bade them good-bye. When they were in the cab she ran to the door.
+"I remember," she cried. "I remember now. It is malgamite."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BEGINNING AT HOME.
+
+"Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but it does not
+relieve all the misery it creates."
+
+
+Charity, as all the world knows, should begin at an "at home." Lord
+Ferriby knew as well as any that there are men, and perhaps even women,
+who will give largely in order that their names may appear largely and
+handsomely in the select subscription lists. He also knew that an
+invitation card in the present is as sure a bait as the promise of
+bliss hereafter. So Lady Ferriby announced by card (in an open envelope
+with a halfpenny stamp) that she should be "at home" to certain persons
+on a certain evening. And the good and the great flocked to Cambridge
+Terrace. The good and great are, one finds, a little mixed, from a
+social point of view.
+
+There were present at Lady Ferriby's, for instance, a number of
+ministers, some cabinet, others dissenting. Here, a man leaning against
+the wall wore a blue ribbon across his shirt front. There, another,
+looking bigger and more self-confident, had no shirt front at all. His
+was the cheap distinction of unsuitable clothes.
+
+"Ha! Miss Ferriby, glad to see you," he said as he entered, holding out
+a hand which had the usual outward signs of industrial honesty.
+
+Joan shook the hand frankly, and its possessor passed on.
+
+"Is that the gas-man?" inquired Major White, gravely. He had been
+standing beside her ever since his arrival, seeking, it seemed, the
+protection of one who understood these social functions. It is to be
+presumed that the major was less bewildered than he looked.
+
+"Hush!" And Joan said something hurriedly in White's large ear.
+"Everybody has him," she concluded; and the explanation brought certain
+calm into the mildly surprised eye behind the eye-glass. White
+recognized the phrase and its conclusive contemporary weight.
+
+"Here's a flat-backed man!" he exclaimed, with a ring of relief. "Been
+drilled, this man. Gad! He's proud!" added the major, as the
+new-comer passed Joan with rather a cold bow.
+
+"Oh, that's the detective," explained Joan. "So many people, you know;
+and so mixed. Everybody has them. Here's Tony--at last."
+
+Tony Cornish was indeed making his way through the crowd towards them.
+He shook hands with a bishop as he elbowed a path across the room, and
+did it with the pious face of a self-respecting curate. The next minute
+he was prodding a sporting baronet in the ribs at the precise moment
+when that nobleman reached the point of his little story and on the
+precise rib where he expected to be prodded. It is always wise to do
+the expected.
+
+At the sight of Tony Cornish, Joan's face became grave, and she turned
+towards him with her little frown of preoccupation, such as one might
+expect to find upon the face of a woman concerned in the great
+movements of the day. But before Tony reached her the expression
+changed to a very feminine and even old-fashioned one of annoyance.
+
+"Oh, here comes mother!" she said, looking beyond Cornish, who was
+indeed being pursued by a wizened little old lady.
+
+Lady Ferriby, it seemed, was not enjoying herself. She glanced
+suspiciously from one face to another, as if she was seeking a friend
+without any great hope of finding one. Perhaps, like many another, she
+looked upon the world from that point Of view.
+
+Cornish hurried up and shook hands. "Plenty of people," he said.
+
+"Oh yes," answered Joan, earnestly. "It only shows that there is, after
+all, a great deal of good in human nature, that in such a movement as
+this rich and poor, great and small, are all equal."
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick sympathetic way, accepting as we all accept
+the social statements of the day, which are oft repeated and never
+weighed. Then he turned to White and tapped that soldier's arm
+emphatically.
+
+"Way to get on nowadays," he said, "is to be prominent in some great
+movement for benefiting mankind." Joan heard the words, and, turning,
+looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.
+
+"And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan," he said, with a
+gravity which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off
+instantly, as if swept away by the ready smile which came again. A
+close observer might have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real
+Tony Cornish.
+
+Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary
+never changed.
+
+Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment--a silent, querulous-looking
+woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
+wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which
+commands respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady
+Ferriby, and had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when
+she approached. And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance,
+her bent and shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with
+a romantic past. It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion
+of Lady Ferriby's world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and
+recognized the melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic
+attachment in the days of one's youth.
+
+"Tony," said her ladyship, "they have eaten all the sandwiches."
+
+And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony
+Cornish's arm with her fan that suggested in a far-off, cold way that
+this social butterfly had reached one of the still strings of her
+heart. Who knows? There may have been, in those dim days when Lady
+Ferriby had played her part in the romantic story which all hinted at
+and none knew, another such as Tony Cornish--gay and debonair,
+careless, reckless, and yet endowed with the power of making some poor
+woman happy.
+
+"My dear aunt," replied Cornish, with a levity with which none other
+ever dared to treat her, "the benevolent are always greedy. And each
+additional virtue--temperance, loving-kindness, humility--only serves
+to dull the sense of humour and add to the appetite. Give them
+biscuits, aunt."
+
+And offering her his arm, he good-naturedly led her to the
+refreshment-room to investigate the matter. As she passed through the
+crowded rooms, she glanced from face to face with her quick, seeking
+look. She cordially disliked all these people. And their principal
+crime was that they ate and drank. For Lady Ferriby was a miser.
+
+At the upper end of the room a low platform served as a safe retreat
+for sleepy chaperons on such occasions as the annual Ferriby ball.
+ To-night there were no chaperons. Is not charity the safest as well as
+the most lenient of these? And does her wing not cover a multitude of
+indiscretions?
+
+Upon this platform there now appeared, amid palms and chrysanthemums, a
+long, rotund man like a bolster. He held a paper in his hand and wore a
+platform smile. His attitude was that of one who hesitated to demand
+silence from so well-bred a throng. His high, narrow forehead shone in
+the light of the candelabra. This was Lord Ferriby--a man whose best
+friend did his best for him in describing him as well-meaning. He gave
+a cough which had sufficient significance in it to command a momentary
+quiet. During the silence, a well-dressed parson stood on tiptoe and
+whispered something in Lord Ferriby's ear. The suggestion, whatever it
+may have been, was negated by the speaker on receipt of a warning shake
+of the head from Joan.
+
+"Er--ladies and gentlemen," said Lord Ferriby, and gained the necessary
+silence. "Er--you all know the purpose of our meeting here to-night.
+You all know that Lady Ferriby and myself are much honoured by your
+presence here. And--er--I am sure----" He did not, however, appear to be
+quite sure, for he consulted his paper, and the colonial bishop near
+the yellow chrysanthemums said, "Hear, hear!"
+
+"And I am sure that we are, one and all, actuated by a burning desire
+to relieve the terrible distress which has been going on unknown to us
+in our very midst."
+
+"He has missed out half a page," said Joan to Major White, who somehow
+found himself at her side again.
+
+"This is no place, and we have at the moment no time, to go into the
+details of the manufacture of malgamite. Suffice it to say, that such
+a--er--composition exists, and that it is a necessity in the
+manufacture of paper. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the painful fact has
+been brought to light by my friend Mr. Roden----" His lordship paused,
+and looked round with a half-fledged bow, but failed to find Roden.
+
+"By--er--Mr. Roden that the manufacture of malgamite is one of the
+deadliest of industries. In fact, the makers of malgamite, and
+fortunately they are comparatively few in number, stricken as they are
+by a corroding disease, occupy in our midst the--er--place of the
+lepers of the Bible."
+
+Here Lord Ferriby bowed affably to the bishop, as if to say, "And that
+is where _you_ come in."
+
+"We--er--live in an age," went on Lord Ferriby--and the practical Joan
+nodded her head to indicate that he was on the right track now--"when
+charity is no longer a matter of sentiment, but rather a very practical
+and forcible power in the world. We do not ask your assistance in a
+vague and visionary crusade against suffering. We ask you to help us in
+the development of a definite scheme for the amelioration of the
+condition of our fellow-beings."
+
+Lord Ferriby spoke not with the ease of long practice, but with the
+assurance of one accustomed to being heard with patience. He now waited
+for the applause to die away.
+
+"Who put him up to it?" Major White asked Joan.
+
+"Mr. Roden wrote the speech, and I taught it to papa," was the answer.
+
+At this moment Cornish hurried up in his busy way. Indeed, these people
+seemed to have little time on their hands. They belonged to a
+generation which is much addicted to unnecessary haste.
+
+"Seen Roden?" he asked, addressing his question to Joan and her
+companion jointly.
+
+"Never in my life," answered Major White. "Is he worth seeing?"
+
+But Cornish hurried away again. Lord Ferriby was still speaking, but he
+seemed to have lost the ear of his audience, and had lapsed into
+generalities. A few who were near the platform listened attentively
+enough. Some who hoped that they were to be asked to speak applauded
+hurriedly and finally whenever the speaker paused to take breath.
+
+The world is full of people who will not give their money, but offer
+readily enough what they call their "time" to a good cause. Lord
+Ferriby was lavish with his "time," and liked to pass it in hearing the
+sound of his own voice. Every social circle has its talkers, who hang
+upon each other's periods in expectance of the moment when they can
+successfully push in their own word. Lord Ferriby, looking round upon
+faces well known to him, saw half a dozen men who spoke upon all
+occasions with a sublime indifference to the fact that they knew
+nothing of the subject in hand. With the least encouragement any one of
+them would have stepped on to the platform bubbling over with
+eloquence. Lord Ferriby was quite clever enough to perceive the danger.
+He must go on talking until Roden was found. Had not the pushing parson
+already intimated in a whisper that he had a few earnest thoughts in
+his mind which he would be glad to get off?
+
+Lord Ferriby knew those earnest thoughts, and their inevitable tendency
+to send the audience to the refreshment-room, where, as Lady Ferriby's
+husband, he suspected poverty in the land.
+
+"Is not Mr. Cornish going to speak?" a young lady eagerly inquired of
+Joan. She was a young lady who wore spectacles and scorned a fringe--a
+dangerous course of conduct for any young woman to follow. But she made
+up for natural and physical deficiencies by an excess of that zeal
+which Talleyrand deplored.
+
+"I think not," answered Joan. "He never speaks in public, you know."
+
+"I wonder why?" said the young lady, sharply and rather angrily.
+
+Joan shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She sometimes wondered why
+herself, but Tony had never satisfied her curiosity. The young lady
+moved away and talked to others of the same matter. There were quite a
+number of people in the room who wanted to know why Tony Cornish did
+not speak, and wished he would. The way to rule the world is to make it
+want something, and keep it wanting.
+
+"I make so bold as to hope," Lord Ferriby was saying, "that when
+sufficient publicity has been given to our scheme we shall be able to
+raise the necessary funds. In the fulness of this hope, I have ventured
+to jot down the names of certain gentlemen who have been kind enough to
+assume the trusteeship. I propose, therefore, that the trustees of the
+Malgamite Fund shall be--er--myself----"
+
+Like a practiced speaker, Lord Ferriby paused for the applause which
+duly followed. And certain elderly gentlemen, who had been young when
+Marmaduke Ferriby was young, looked with much interest at the pictures
+on the wall. That Lord Ferriby should assume the directorship of a
+great charity was to send that charity on its way rejoicing. He stood
+smiling benevolently and condescendingly down upon the faces turned
+towards him, and rejoiced inwardly over these glorious obsequies of a
+wild and deplorable past.
+
+"Mr. Anthony Cornish," he read out, and applause made itself heard
+again.
+
+"Major White."
+
+And the listeners turned round and stared at that hero, whom they
+discovered calmly and stolidly entrenched behind the eye-glass, his
+broad, tanned face surmounting a shirt front of abnormal width.
+
+"Herr von Holzen."
+
+No one seemed to know Herr von Holzen, or to care much whether he
+existed or not.
+
+"And--my--er--friend--the originator of this great scheme--the man whom
+we all look up to as the benefactor of a most miserable class of
+men--Mr. Percy Roden."
+
+Lord Ferriby meant the listeners to applaud, and they did so, although
+they had never heard the name before. He folded the paper held in his
+hand, and indicated by his manner that he had for the moment nothing
+more to say. From his point of advantage he scanned the whole length of
+the large room, evidently seeking some one. Anthony Cornish had been
+the second name mentioned, and the majority hoped that it was he who
+was to speak next. They anticipated that he, at all events, would be
+lively, and in addition to this recommendation there hovered round his
+name that mysterious charm which is in itself a subtle form of
+notoriety. People said of Tony Cornish that he would get on in the
+world; and upon this slender ladder he had attained social success.
+
+But Cornish was not in the room, and after waiting a few moments, Lord
+Ferriby came down from the platform, and joined some of the groups of
+persons in the large room. For already the audience was breaking up
+into small parties, and the majority, it is to be feared, were by now
+talking of other matters. In these days we cannot afford to give
+sufficient time to any one object to do that object or ourselves any
+lasting good.
+
+Presently there was a stir at the door, and Cornish entered the large
+room, followed leisurely by a tired-looking man, for whom the idlers
+near the doorway seemed instinctively to make way. This man was tall,
+square-shouldered, and loose of limb. He had smooth dark hair, and
+carried his head thrown rather back from the neck. His eyes were dark,
+and the fact that a considerable line of white was visible beneath the
+pupil imparted to his whole being an air of physical delicacy
+suggestive of a constant feeling of fatigue.
+
+"Who is this?" asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid
+curiosity which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening.
+
+"Oh, that," said Joan, looking towards the door--"that is Mr. Percy
+Roden."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A NEW DISCIPLE.
+
+"Pour �tre heureux, il ne faut avoir rien � oublier."
+
+
+There is in the atmosphere of the Hotel of the Vieux Doelen at The
+Hague something as old-world, as quiet and peaceful, as there is in the
+very name of this historic house. The stairs are softly carpeted; the
+great rooms are hung with tapestry, and otherwise decorated in a
+massive and somewhat gloomy style, little affected in the newer
+_caravanserais_. The house itself, more than three hundred years old,
+is of dark red brick with facings of stone, long since worn by wind and
+weather. The windows are enormous, and would appear abnormal in any
+other city but this. The Hotel of the Old Shooting gallery stands on
+the Toornoifeld and the unobservant may pass by without distinguishing
+it from the private houses on either side. This, indeed, is not so much
+a house of hasty rest for the passing traveler as it is a halting-place
+for that great army which is ever moving quietly on and on through the
+cities of the Old World--the corps diplomatique--the army whose
+greatest victory is peace. The traveller passing a night or two at the
+hotel may well be faintly surprised at the atmosphere in which he finds
+himself. If he be what is called a practical man, he will probably
+shake his head forebodingly over the prospects of the proprietor. There
+seems, indeed, to be a singular dearth of visitors. The winding stairs
+are nearly always deserted. The _salon_ is empty. There are no sounds
+of life, no trunks in the hall, and no idlers at the door. And yet at
+the hour of the _table d'h�te_ quiet doors are opened, and quiet men
+emerge from rooms that seemed before to be uninhabited. They are mostly
+smooth-haired men with a pensive reserve of manner, a certain polished
+cosmopolitan air, and the inevitable frock-coat. They bow gravely to
+each other, and seat themselves at separate tables. As often as not
+they produce books or newspapers, and read during the solemn meal. It
+is as well to watch these men and take note of them. Many of them are
+grey-headed. No one of them is young. But they are beginners, mere
+apprentices, at a very difficult trade, and in the days to come they
+will have the making of the history of Europe. For these men are
+attach�s and secretaries of embassies. They will talk to you in almost
+any European tongue you may select, but they are not communicative
+persons.
+
+During the winter--the gay season at The Hague--there are usually a
+certain number of residents in the hotel. At the time with which we are
+dealing, Mrs. Vansittart was staying there, alone with her maid. Mrs.
+Vansittart was in the habit of dining at the small table near the
+stove--a gorgeous erection of steel and brass, which stands nearly in
+the centre of the smaller dining-room used in winter. Mrs. Vansittart
+seemed, moreover, to be quite at home in the hotel, and exchanged bows
+with a few of the gentlemen of the corps diplomatique. She was a
+graceful, dark-haired woman, with deep brown eyes that looked upon the
+world without much interest. This was not, one felt, a woman to lavish
+her attention or her thoughts upon a toy spaniel, as do so many ladies
+travelling alone with their maids in Continental hotels. Perhaps this
+woman of thirty-five years or so preferred to be frankly bored, rather
+than set up for herself a shivering four-legged object in life. Perhaps
+she was not bored at all. One never knows. The gentlemen from the
+embassies glanced at her over their books or their newspapers, and
+wondered who and what she might be. They knew, at all events, that she
+took no interest in those affairs of the great world which rumble on
+night and day without rest, with spasmodic bursts of clumsy haste, and
+with a never-failing possibility of surprise in their movements. This
+was no political woman, whatever else she might be. She would talk in
+quite a number of languages of such matters as the opera, a new book,
+or an old picture, and would then relapse again into a sort of waiting
+silence. At thirty-five it is perhaps not well to wait too patiently
+for those things that make a woman's life worth living. Mrs. Vansittart
+had not the air, however, of one who would wait indefinitely.
+
+When Mr. Percy Roden arrived at the hotel, he was assigned, at the hour
+of _table d'h�te_, a small table between those occupied respectively by
+Mrs. Vansittart and the secretary of the Belgian Embassy. Some subtle
+sense conveyed to Percy Roden that he had aroused Mrs. Vansittart's
+interest--the sense called vanity, perhaps, which conveys so much to
+young men, and so much that is erroneous. On the second evening,
+therefore, when he had returned from a busy day in the neighbourhood of
+Scheveningen, Roden half looked for the bow which was half accorded to
+him. That evening Mrs. Vansittart spoke to the waiter in English, which
+was obviously her native language, and Roden overheard. After dinner
+Mrs. Vansittart lingered in the _salon_ and a woman, had such been
+present, would have perceived that she made it easy for Roden to pause
+in passing and offer her his English newspaper, which had arrived by
+the evening post. The subtle is so often the obvious that to be
+unobservant is a social duty.
+
+"Thank you," she replied. "I like newspapers. Although I have not been
+in England for years, I still take an interest in the affairs of my
+country."
+
+Her manner was easy and natural, without that taint of a too sudden
+familiarity which is characteristic of the present generation. We are
+apt to allow ourselves to feel too much at home.
+
+"I, on the contrary," replied Roden, with his tired air, "have never
+till now been out of England or English-speaking colonies."
+
+His voice had a hollow sound. Although he was tall and
+broad-shouldered, his presence had no suggestion of strength. Mrs.
+Vansittart looked at him quickly as she took the newspaper from his
+hand. She had clever, speculative eyes, and was obviously wondering why
+he had gone to the colonies and why he had returned thence. So many
+sail to those distant havens of the unsuccessful under one cloud and
+return under another, that it seems wiser to remain stationary and
+snatch what passing sunshine there may be. Roden had not a colonial
+manner. He was well dressed. He was, in fact, the sort of man who would
+pass in any society. And it is probable that Mrs. Vansittart summed him
+up in her quick mind with perfect success. Despite our clothes, despite
+our airs and graces, we mostly appear to be exactly what we are. Mrs.
+Vansittart, who knew the world and men, did not need to be informed by
+Percy Roden that he was unacquainted with the Continent. Comparing him
+with the other men passing through the _salon_ to their rooms or their
+club, it became apparent that he had one sort of stiffness which they
+had not, and lacked another sort of stiffness which grows upon those
+who live and take their meals in public places. Mrs. Vansittart could
+probably have made a fair guess at the sort of education Percy Roden
+had received. For a man carries his school mark through life with him.
+
+"Ah," she said, taking the newspaper and glancing at it with just
+sufficient interest to prolong the conversation, "then you do not know
+The Hague. It is a place that grows upon one. It is one of the social
+capitals of the world. Vienna, St. Petersburg, Paris, are the others.
+Madrid, Berlin, New York, are--nowhere."
+
+She laughed, bowed with a little half--foreign gesture of thanks, and
+left him--left him, moreover, with the desire to see more of her. It
+seemed that she knew the secret of that other worldling, Tony Cornish,
+that the way to rule men is to make them want something and keep them
+wanting. As Roden passed through the hall he paused, and entered into
+conversation with the hall porter. During the course of this talk he
+made some small inquiries respecting Mrs. Vansittart. That lady had no
+need to make inquiries respecting Roden. Has it not been stated that
+she was travelling with her maid?
+
+"I see," she said, when she saw him again the next day after dinner in
+the _salon_, "that your great philanthropic scheme is now an
+established fact. I have taken a great interest in its progress, and of
+course know the names of some who are associated with you in it."
+
+Roden laughed indifferently, well pleased to be recognized. His
+notoriety was new enough and narrow enough to please him still. There
+is no man so much at the mercy of his own vanity as he who enjoys a
+limited notoriety.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "we have got it into shape. Do you know Lord
+Ferriby?"
+
+"No," answered Mrs. Vansittart, slowly, "I have not that pleasure.
+
+"Oh, Ferriby is a good enough fellow," said Roden, kindly; and Mrs.
+Vansittart gave a little nod as she looked at him. Roden had drawn
+forward a chair, and she sat down, after a moment's hesitation, in
+front of the open fire.
+
+"So I have always heard," she answered, "and a great philanthropist."
+
+"Oh--yes." Roden paused and took a chair. "Oh yes; but Tony Cornish is
+our right-hand man. The people seem to place greater faith in him than
+they do in Lord Ferriby. When it is Cornish who asks, they give readily
+enough. He is business-like and quick, and that always tells in the
+long run."
+
+Percy Roden seemed disposed to be communicative, and Mrs. Vansittart's
+attitude was distinctly encouraging. She leant sideways on the arm of
+her chair, and looked at her companion with speculation in her
+intelligent eyes. She was perhaps reflecting that this was not the sort
+of man one usually finds engaged in philanthropic enterprise. It is
+likely that her thoughts were of this nature, and were, as thoughts so
+often are, transmitted silently to her companion's mind, for he
+proceeded, unasked, to explain.
+
+"It is not, properly speaking, a charity, you know," he said. "It is
+more in the nature of a trade union. This is a practical age, Mrs.
+Vansittart, and it is necessary that charity should keep pace with the
+march of progress and be self-supporting."
+
+There was a faint suggestion of glibness in his manner. It was probable
+that he had made use of the same arguments before.
+
+"And who else is associated with you in this great enterprise?" asked
+the lady, keeping him with the cleverness of her sex upon the subject
+in which he was obviously deeply interested. The shrewdest women
+usually treat men thus, and they generally know what subject interests
+a man most--namely, himself.
+
+"Herr von Holzen is the most important person," replied Roden.
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, looking into the fire; "and who is Herr von
+Holzen?"
+
+Roden paused for a moment, and the lady, looking half indifferently
+into the fire, noticed the hesitation.
+
+"Oh, he is a scientist--a professor at one of the universities over
+here, I believe. At all events, he is a very clever fellow--analytical
+chemist and all that, you know. It is he who has made the discovery
+upon which we are working. He has always been interested in malgamite,
+and he has now found out how it may be manufactured without injury to
+the workers. Malgamite, you understand, is an essential in the
+manufacture of paper, and the world will never require less paper than
+it does now, but more. Look at the tons that pass through the
+post-offices daily. Paper-making is one of the great industries of the
+world, and without malgamite, paper cannot be made at a profit to-day."
+
+Roden seemed to have his subject at his fingers' ends, and if he spoke
+without enthusiasm, the reason was probably that he had so often said
+the same thing before.
+
+"I am much interested," said Mrs. Vansittart, in her half-foreign way,
+which was rather pleasing. "Tell me more about it."
+
+"The malgamite makers," went on Roden, willingly enough, "are
+fortunately but few in numbers and they are experts. They are to be
+found in twos and threes in manufacturing cities--Amsterdam,
+Gothenburg, Leith, New York, and even Barcelona. Of course there are a
+number in England. Our scheme, briefly, is to collect these men
+together, to build a manufactory and houses for them--to form them, in
+fact, into a close corporation, and then supply the world with
+malgamite."
+
+"It is a great scheme, Mr. Roden."
+
+"Yes, it is a great scheme; and it is, I think, laid upon the right
+lines. These people require to be saved from themselves. As they now
+exist, they are well paid. They are engaged in a deadly industry, and
+know it. There is nothing more demoralizing to human nature than this
+knowledge. They have a short and what they take to be a merry life."
+The tired--looking man paused and spread out his hands in a gesture of
+careless scorn. He had almost allowed himself to lapse into enthusiasm.
+"There is no reason," he went on, "why they should not become a happy
+and respectable community. The first thing we shall have to teach them
+is that their industry is comparatively harmless, as it will
+undoubtedly be with Von Holzen's new process. The rest will, I think,
+come naturally. Altered circumstances will alter the people
+themselves."
+
+"And where do you intend to build this manufactory?" inquired Mrs.
+Vansittart, to whom was vouch-safed that rare knowledge of the fine
+line that is to be drawn between a kindly interest and a vulgar
+curiosity. The two are nearer than is usually suspected.
+
+"Here in Holland," was the reply. "I have almost decided on the
+spot--on the dunes to the north of Scheveningen. That is why I am
+staying at The Hague. There are many reasons why this coast is
+suitable. We shall be in touch with the canal system, and we shall have
+a direct outfall to the sea for our refuse, which is necessary. I shall
+have to live in The Hague--my sister and I."
+
+"Ah! You have a sister?" said Mrs. Vansittart, turning in her chair and
+looking at him. A woman's interest in a man's undertaking is invariably
+centred upon that point where another woman comes into it.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Unmarried?"
+
+"Yes; Dorothy is unmarried."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave several quick little nods of the head.
+
+"I am wondering two things," she said--"whether she is like you, and
+whether she is interested in this scheme. But I am wondering more than
+that. Is she pretty, Mr. Roden?"
+
+"Yes, I think she is pretty."
+
+"I am glad of that. I like girls to be pretty. It makes their lives so
+much more interesting--to the onlooker, _bien entendu_, but not to
+themselves. The happiest women I have known have been the plain ones.
+But perhaps your sister will be pretty and happy too. That would be so
+nice, and so very rare, Mr. Roden. I shall look forward to making her
+acquaintance. I live in The Hague, you know. I have a house in Park
+Straat, and I am only at this hotel while the painters are in
+possession. You will allow me to call on your sister when she joins
+you?"
+
+"We shall be most gratified," said Roden.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had risen with a little glance at the clock, and her
+companion rose also. "I am greatly interested in your scheme," she
+said. "Much more than I can tell you. It is so refreshing to find
+charity in such close connection with practical common sense. I think
+you are doing a great work, Mr. Roden."
+
+"I do what I can," he replied, with a bow.
+
+"And Mr. Von Holzen," inquired Mrs. Vansittart, stopping for a moment
+as she moved towards the doorway, which is large and hung with
+curtains--"does Mr. Von Holzen work from purely philanthropic motives
+also?"
+
+"Well--yes, I think so. Though, of course, he, like myself, will be
+paid a salary. Perhaps, however, he is more interested in malgamite
+from a scientific point of view."
+
+"Ah, yes, from a scientific point of view, of course. Good night, Mr.
+Roden."
+
+And she left him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+OUT OF EGYPT.
+
+"Un esclave est moins celui qu'on vend que celui qui se donne"
+
+
+A sea fog was blowing across the smooth surface of the Maas where that
+river is broad and shallow, and a steamer anchored in the channel, grim
+and motionless, gave forth a grunt of warning from time to time, while
+a boy with mittened hands rang the bell hung high on the forecastle
+with a dull monotony. The wind blowing from the south-east drove before
+it the endless fog which hummed through the rigging, and hung there in
+little icicles that pointed to leeward. On the bridge of the steamer,
+looking like a huge woollen barrel surmounted by a comforter and a cap
+with ear-flaps, the Dutch pilot stood philosophically at his post. Near
+him the captain, mindful of the company's time-tables, walked with a
+quick, impatient step. The fog was blowing past at the rate of four or
+five miles an hour, but the supply of it, emanating from the low lands
+bordering the Scheldt, seemed to be inexhaustible. This fog, indeed,
+blows across Holland nearly the whole winter.
+
+The steamer's deck was covered with ice, over which sand had been
+strewn. The passengers were below in the warm saloon. Only the
+blue-faced boy at the bell on the forecastle was on the main-deck. At
+times one of the watch hurried from the galley to the forecastle with a
+pannikin of steaming coffee. The vessel had been anchored since
+daybreak and the sound of other bells and other whistles far and near
+told that she was not alone in these waters. The distant boom of a
+steamer creeping cautiously down from Rotterdam seemed to promise that
+farther inland the fog was thinner. A silence, broken only by the
+whisper of the wind through the rigging, reigned over all, so that men
+listened with anticipations of relief for the sound of answering bells.
+The sky at length grew a little lighter, and presently gaps made their
+appearance in the fog, allowing peeps over the green and still water.
+
+The captain and the pilot exchanged a few words--the very shortest of
+consultations. They had been on the bridge together all night, and had
+said all that there was to be said about wind and weather. The captain
+gave a sharp order in his gruff voice, and, as if by magic, the watch
+on deck appeared from all sides. The chief officer emerged from his
+cabin beneath the wheel-house, and went forward into the fog, turning
+up his collar. Presently the jerk and clink of the steam-winch told
+that the anchor was being got home. The fog had been humoured for six
+hours, and the time had now come to move on through thick or thin. What
+should Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, know of a fog on the Maas? And there
+were mails and passengers on board this steamer. The clink of the winch
+brought one of these on deck. Within the high collar of his fur coat,
+beneath the brim of a felt hat pulled well down, the keen; fair face of
+Mr. Anthony Cornish came peering up the gangway to the upper bridge. He
+exchanged a nod with the captain and the pilot; for with these he had
+already been in conversation at the breakfast-table. He took his
+station on the bridge behind them, with his hands deep in the pockets
+of his loose coat, a cigarette between his lips. A shout from the
+forecastle soon intimated that the anchor was up, and the captain gave
+the order to the boy at the engine-room telegraph. Through the fog the
+forms of the three men on the look-out on the forecastle were dimly
+discernible. The great steamer crept cautiously forward into the fog.
+The second mate, with his hand on the whistle-line, blared out his
+warning note every half-minute. A dim shadow loomed up on the
+port-side, which presently took the form of a great steamer at anchor,
+and was left behind with a ringing bell and a booming whistle. Another
+shadow turned out to be a pilot-cutter, and the Dutch pilot exchanged a
+shouted consultation with an invisible person whom he called "Thou,"
+and who replied to the imperfectly heard questions with the words,
+"South East." This shadow also was left behind, faintly calling, "South
+East," "South East."
+
+"It is a white buoy that I seek," said the pilot, turning to those on
+the bridge behind him, his jolly red face puckered with anxiety. And
+quite suddenly the second officer, a bright-red Scotchman with little
+blue eyes like tempered gimlets, threw out a red hand and pointing
+finger.
+
+"There she rides," he said. "There she rides; staar boarrrd your
+hellum!"
+
+And a full thirty seconds elapsed before any other eyes could pierce
+that gloom and perceive a great white buoy bowing solemnly towards the
+steamer like a courtier bidding a sovereign welcome. One voice had
+seemed to be gradually dominating the din of the many warning whistles
+that sounded ahead, astern, and all around the steamer. This voice,
+like that of a strong man knowing his own mind in an assembly of
+excited and unstable counsellors, had long been raised with a
+persistence which at last seemed to command all others, and the steamer
+moved steadily towards it; for it was the siren fog-horn at the
+pier-head. At one moment it seemed to be quite near, and at the next
+far away; for the ears, unaided by the eyes, can but imperfectly focus
+sound or measure its distance.
+
+"At last!" said the captain, suddenly, the anxiety wiped away from his
+face as if by magic. "At last, I hear the cranes aworking on the quay."
+
+The purser had come to the bridge, and now approached Cornish.
+
+"Are you going to land them at the Hook or take them on to Rotterdam,
+sir?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, land 'em at the Hook," replied Cornish, readily. "Have you fed
+them?"
+
+"Yes, sir. They have had their breakfast--such as it is. Poor eaters I
+call them, sir."
+
+"Yes." said Cornish, turning and looking at his burly interlocutor.
+"Yes, I do not suppose they eat much."
+
+The purser shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention to other
+affairs, thoughtfully. The little, beacon at the head of the pier had
+suddenly loomed out of the fog not fifty yards away--a very needle in a
+pottle of hay, which the cunning of the pilot had found.
+
+"Who are they, at any rate--these hundred and twenty ghosts of men?"
+asked the sailor, abruptly.
+
+"They are malgamite workers," answered Cornish, cheerily. "And I am
+going to make men of them--not ghosts."
+
+The purser looked at him, laughed in rather a puzzled way, and quitted
+the bridge. Cornish remained there, taking a quick, intelligent
+interest in the manoeuvres by which the great steamer was being brought
+alongside the quay. He seemed to have already forgotten the hundred and
+twenty men in the second-class cabin. His touch was indeed hopelessly
+light. He understood how it was that the steamer was made to obey, but
+he could not himself have brought her alongside. Cornish was a true son
+of a generation which understands much of many things, but not quite
+sufficient of any one.
+
+He stood at the upper end of the gangway as the malgamite workers filed
+off--a sorry crew, narrow-chested, hollow-eyed, with that
+half-hopeless, half-reckless air that tells of a close familiarity with
+disease and death. He nodded to them airily as they passed him. Some of
+them took the trouble to answer his salutation, others seemed
+indifferent. A few glanced at him with a sort of dull wonder. And
+indeed this man was not of the material of which great philanthropists
+are made. He was cheerful and heedless, shallow and superficial.
+
+"Get 'em into the train," he said to an official at his side; and then,
+seeing that he had not been understood, gave the order glibly enough in
+another language.
+
+The ill-clad travellers shuffled up the gangway and through the
+custom-house. Few seemed to take an interest in their surroundings.
+They exchanged no comments, but walked side by side in silence--dumb
+and driven animals. Some of them bore signs of disease. A few stumbled
+as they went. One or two were half blind, with groping hands. That they
+were of different nationalities was plain enough. Here a Jew from
+Vienna, with the fear of the Judenhetze in his eyes, followed on the
+heels of a tow-headed giant from Stockholm. A cunning cockney touched
+his hat as he passed, and rather ostentatiously turned to help a
+white-haired little Italian over the inequalities of the gangway. One
+thing only they had in common--their deadly industry. One shadow lay
+over them all--the shadow of death. A momentary gravity passed across
+Cornish's face. These men were as far removed from him as the crawling
+beetle is from the butterfly. Who shall say, however, that the butterfly
+sees nothing but the flowers?
+
+As they passed him, some of them edged away with a dull humility for
+fear their poor garments should touch his fur coat. One, carrying a
+bird-cage, half paused, with a sort of pride, that Cornish might obtain
+a fuller view of a depressed canary. The malgamite workers of this
+winter's morning on the pier of Hoek were not the interesting
+industrials of Lady Ferriby's drawing-room. There their lives had been
+spoken of as short and merry. Here the merriment was scarcely
+perceptible. The mystery of the dangerous industries is one of those
+mysteries of human nature which cannot be explained by even the
+youngest of novelists. That dangerous industries exist we all know and
+deplore. That the supply of men and women ready to take employment in
+such industries is practically inexhaustible is a fact worth at least a
+moment's attention.
+
+Cornish made the necessary arrangements with the railway officials, and
+carefully counted his charges, who were already seated in the carriages
+reserved for them. He must at all events be allowed the virtues of a
+generation which is eminently practical and capable of overcoming the
+small difficulties of everyday life. He was quick to decide and prompt
+to act.
+
+Then he seated himself in a carriage alone, with a sigh of relief at
+the thought that in a few days he would be back in London. His
+responsibility ended at The Hague, where he was to hand over the
+malgamite workers to the care of Roden and Von Holzen. They were
+rather a depressing set of men, and Holland, as seen from the carriage
+window--a snow-clad plain intersected by frozen ditches and
+canals--was no more enlivening. The temperature was deadly cold; the
+dull houses were rime-covered and forbidding. The malgamite makers had
+been gathered together from all parts of the world in a home specially
+organized for them in London. A second detachment was awaiting their
+orders at Hamburg. But the principal workers were these now placed
+under Cornish's care.
+
+During the days of their arrival, when they had to be met and housed
+and cared for, the visionary part of this great scheme had slowly faded
+before a somewhat grim reality. Joan Ferriby had found the malgamite
+workers less picturesque than she had anticipated.
+
+"If they only washed," she had confided to Major White, "I am sure they
+would be easier to deal with." And after talking French very
+vivaciously and boldly with a man from Lyons, she hurried back to the
+West End, and to the numerous engagements which naturally take up much
+of one's time when Lent is approaching, and dilatory hospitality is
+stirred up by the startling collapse of the Epiphany Sundays.
+
+Here, however, were the malgamite workers and they had to be dealt
+with. It was not quite what many had anticipated, perhaps, and Cornish
+was looking forward with undisguised pleasure to the moment when he
+could rid himself of these persons whom Joan had gaily designated as
+"rather gruesome," and whom he frankly recognized as sordid and
+uninteresting. He did not even look, as Joan had looked, to the wives
+and children who were to follow as likely to prove more picturesque and
+engaging.
+
+The train made its way cautiously over the fog-ridden plain, and
+Cornish shivered as he looked out of the window. "Schiedam," the
+porters called. This, Schiedam? A mere village, and yet the name was so
+familiar. The world seemed suddenly to have grown small and sordid. A
+few other stations with historic names, and then The Hague.
+
+Cornish quitted his carriage, and found himself shaking hands with
+Roden, who was awaiting him on the platform, clad in a heavy fur coat.
+Roden looked clever and capable--cleverer and more capable than Cornish
+had even suspected--and the organization seemed perfect. The reserved
+carriages had been in readiness at the Hook. The officials were
+prepared.
+
+"I have omnibuses and carts for them and their luggage," were the first
+words that Roden spoke.
+
+Cornish instinctively placed himself under Roden's orders. The man had
+risen immensely in his estimation since the arrival in London of the
+first malgamite maker. The grim reality of the one had enhanced the
+importance of the other. Cornish had been engaged in so many charities
+_pour rire_ that the seriousness of this undertaking was apt to
+exaggerate itself in his mind--if, indeed, the seriousness of anything
+dwelt there at all.
+
+
+"I counted them all over at the Hook," he said. "One hundred and
+twenty--pretty average scoundrels."
+
+"Yes; they are not much to look at," answered Roden.
+
+And the two men stood side by side watching the malgamite workers, who
+now quitted the train and stood huddled together in a dull apathy on
+the roomy platform.
+
+"But you will soon get them into shape, no doubt," said Cornish, with
+characteristic optimism. He was essentially of a class that has always
+some one at hand to whom to relegate tasks which it could do more
+effectually and more quickly for itself. The secret of human happiness
+is to be dependent upon as few human beings as possible.
+
+"Oh yes! We shall soon get them into shape--the sea air and all that,
+you know."
+
+Roden looked at his _prot�g�s_ with large, sad eyes, in which there was
+alike no enthusiasm and no spark of human kindness. Cornish wondered
+vaguely what he was thinking about. The thoughts were certainly tinged
+with pessimism, and lacked entirely the blindness of an enthusiasm by
+which men are urged to endeavour great things for the good of the
+masses, and to make, as far as a practical human perception may
+discern, huge and hideous mistakes.
+
+"Von Holzen is down below," said Roden, at length. "As soon as he comes
+up we will draft them off in batches of ten, and pack them into the
+omnibuses. The luggage can follow. Ah! Here comes Von Holzen. You don't
+know him, do you?"
+
+"No; I don't know him."
+
+They both went forward to meet a man of medium height, with square
+shoulders, and a still, clean-shaven face. Otto von Holzen raised his
+hat, and remained bare-headed while he shook hands.
+
+"The introduction is unnecessary," he said. "We have worked together
+for many months--you on the other side of the North Sea, and I on this.
+And now we have, at all events, something to show for our work."
+
+He had a quick, foreign manner, with a kind smile, and certain
+vivacity.
+
+This was a different sort of man to Roden--quicker to feel for others,
+to understand others; capable of greater good, and possibly of greater
+evil. He glanced at Cornish, nodded sympathetically, and then turned to
+look at the malgamite makers. These, standing in a group on the
+platform, holding in their hands their poor belongings, returned the
+gaze with interest. The train which had brought them steamed out of the
+station, leaving the malgamite makers gazing in a dull wonder at the
+three men into whose hands they had committed their lives.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+ON THE DUNES.
+
+"L'indifference est le sommeil du coeur."
+
+
+The village of Scheveningen, as many know, is built on the sand dunes,
+and only sheltered from the ocean by a sea-wall. A new Scheveningen has
+sprung up on this sea-wall--a mere terrace of red brick houses, already
+faded and weather-worn, which stare forlornly at the shallow sea.
+Inland, except where building enterprise has constructed roads and
+built villas are sand dunes. To the south, beyond the lighthouse, are
+sand dunes. To the north, more especially and most emphatically, are
+sand dunes as far as the eye may see. This tract of country is a very
+desert, where thin maritime grasses are shaken by the wind, where
+suggestive spars lie bleaching, where the sand, driven before the
+breeze like snow, travels to and fro through all the ages.
+
+This afternoon, the dunes presented as forlorn an appearance as it is
+possible in one's gloomiest moments to conceive. The fog had, indeed,
+lifted a little, but a fine rain now drove before the wind, freezing as
+it fell, so that the earth was covered by a thin sheet of ice. The
+short January day was drawing to its close.
+
+To the north of the waterworks, three hundred yards away from that
+solitary erection, the curious may find to-day a few low buildings
+clustering round a water-tower. These buildings are of wood, with roofs
+of corrugated iron; and when they were newly constructed, not so many
+years ago, presented a gay enough appearance, with their green
+shutters and ornamental eaves. The whole was enclosed in a fence of
+corrugated iron, and approached by a road not too well constructed on
+its sandy bed.
+
+"We do not want the place to become the object of an excursion for
+tourists to The Hague," said Roden to Cornish, as they approached the
+malgamite works in a closed carriage.
+
+Cornish looked out of the window and made no remark. So far as he could
+see on all sides, there was nothing but sand-hills and grey grass. The
+road was a narrow one, and led only to the little cluster of houses
+within the fence. It was a lonely spot, cut off from all communication
+with the outer world. Men might pass within a hundred yards and never
+know that the malgamite works existed. The carriage drove through the
+high gateway into the enclosure. There were a number of cottages, two
+long, low buildings, and the water-tower.
+
+"You see," said Roden, "we have plenty of room to increase our
+accommodation when there is need of it. But we must go slowly and feel
+our way. It would never do to fail. We have accommodation here for a
+couple of hundred workers and their families; but in time we shall have
+five hundred of them in here--all the malgamite workers in the world."
+
+He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in
+his voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after
+all, be an enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's
+world sincere enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
+
+Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the
+little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
+
+"These two buildings are the factories," he said. "In them three
+hundred men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the
+storage of the raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do
+not anticipate that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We
+shall turn over our money very quickly."
+
+Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details
+receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for
+such pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the
+terms of which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his
+cane, gave a quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around
+him. He had a certain respect for Percy Roden, while that
+philanthropist did not perhaps appear quite at his best in his business
+moments.
+
+"And do you--and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen--live inside
+this--zareba?" he asked.
+
+
+"No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I
+have taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for
+me."
+
+"Ah! I did not know you had a sister," said Cornish, still looking
+about him with intelligent ignorance. "Does she take an interest in the
+malgamite scheme?"
+
+"Only so far as it affects me," replied Roden. "She is a good sister to
+me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We
+will call in on our way back, if you care to."
+
+"I should like nothing better," replied Cornish, conventionally, and
+they continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements
+were as simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen
+certainly possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages
+a cold collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of
+wines, and notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
+
+"For the journalists," explained Roden. "I have a number of them coming
+this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite
+makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited
+a number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay
+their expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it
+immensely. They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you
+understand."
+
+"Flattery and champagne," laughed Cornish--"the two principal
+ingredients of popularity."
+
+"I have here a number of photographs," continued Roden, "taken by a
+good man in the neighbourhood. He has thrown in a view of the sea at
+the back, you see. It is not there; but he has put in the sky and sea
+from another plate, he tells me, to make a good picture of it. We shall
+send them to the principal illustrated papers."
+
+"And I suppose," said Cornish, with his gay laugh, "that some of the
+journalists will throw in background also."
+
+"Of course," answered Roden, gravely. "And the sentimentalists will be
+satisfied. The sentimentalists never stop at providing necessaries;
+they want to pamper. It will please them immensely to think that the
+malgamite makers, who have been collected from the slums of the world,
+have a sea view and every modern luxury."
+
+"We must humour them," said Cornish, practically. "We should not get
+far without them."
+
+At this moment the sound of wheels made them both turn towards the
+entrance. It was an omnibus--the best omnibus with the finest
+horses--which brought the journalists. These gentlemen now descended
+from the vehicle and came towards the cottage, where Cornish and Roden
+awaited them. They were what is euphemistically called a little mixed.
+Some were too well dressed, others too badly. But all carried
+themselves with an air that bespoke a consciousness of greatness not
+unmingled with good-fellowship. The leader, a stout man, shook hands
+affably with Cornish, who assumed his best and most gracious manner.
+
+
+"Aha! Here we are," he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at
+the champagne.
+
+Then somehow Cornish came to the front and Roden retired into the
+background. It was Cornish who opened the champagne and poured it into
+their glasses. It was Cornish who made the best jokes, and laughed the
+loudest at the journalistic quips fired off by his companions. Cornish
+seemed to understand the guests better than did Roden, who was inclined
+to be stiff towards them. Those who are assured of their position are
+not always thinking about it. Men who stand much upon their dignity
+have not, as a rule, much else to stand upon.
+
+"Here's to you, sir," cried the stout newspaper man, with upraised
+glass and a heart full of champagne. "Here's to you--whoever you are.
+And now to business. Perhaps you'll trot us round the works."
+
+This Cornish did with much success. He then stood beside the
+correspondents while the malgamite workers descended from the omnibus
+and took possession of their new quarters. He provided the journalists
+with photographs and a short printed account of the malgamite trade,
+which had been prepared by Von Holzen. It was finally Cornish who
+packed them into the omnibus in high good humour, and sent them back to
+The Hague.
+
+"Do not forget the sentiment," he called out after them. "Remember it
+is a charity."
+
+The malgamite workers were left to the care of Von Holzen, who had made
+all necessary preparations for their reception.
+
+
+
+
+"You are a cleverer man than I thought you," said Roden to Cornish, as
+they walked over the dunes together in the dusk towards the Rodens'
+house. And it was difficult to say whether Roden was pleased or not.
+He did not speak much during the walk, and was evidently wrapped in
+deep thought.
+
+Cornish was light and inconsequent as usual. "We shall soon raise
+more money," he said. "We shall have malgamite balls, and malgamite
+bazaars, malgamite balloon ascents if that is not flying too high."
+
+The Villa des Dunes stands, as its name implies, among the sand hills,
+facing south and west. It is upon an elevation, and therefore enjoys a
+view of the sea, and, inland, of the spires of The Hague. The garden is
+an old one, and there are quiet nooks in it where the trees have grown
+to a quite respectable stature. Holland is so essentially a tidy
+country that nothing old or moss-grown is tolerated. One wonders where
+all the rubbish of the centuries has been hidden; for all the ruins
+have been decently cleared away and cities that teem with historical
+interest seem, with a few exceptions, to have been built last year. The
+garden of the Villa des Dunes was therefore more remarkable for
+cleanliness than luxuriance. The house itself was uninteresting, and
+resembled a thousand others on the coast in that it was more
+comfortable than it looked. A suggestion of warmth and lamp-light
+filtered through the drawn curtains.
+
+Roden led the way into the house, admitting himself with a latch-key.
+"Dorothy," he cried, as soon as the door was closed behind them--the
+two tall men in their heavy coats almost filled the little
+hall--"Dorothy, where are you?"
+
+The atmosphere of the house--that subtle odour which is characteristic
+of all dwellings--was pleasant. One felt that there were flowers in the
+rooms, and that tea was in course of preparation.
+
+The door on the left-hand side of the hall was opened, and a small
+woman appeared there. She was essentially small--a little upright
+figure with bright brown hair, a good complexion, and gay, sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"I have brought Mr. Cornish," explained Roden. "We are frozen, and want
+some tea."
+
+Dorothy Roden came forward and shook hands with Cornish. She looked up
+at him, taking him all in, in one quick intuitive glance, from his
+smooth head to his neat boots.
+
+"It is horribly cold," she said. One cannot always be original and
+sparkling, and it is wiser not to try too persistently. She turned and
+re-entered the drawing-room, with Cornish following her. The room
+itself was prettily furnished in the Dutch fashion, and there were
+flowers. Dorothy Roden's manner was that of a woman; no longer in her
+first girlhood, who had seen en and cities. She was better educated
+than her brother; she was probably cleverer. She had, at all events,
+the subtle air of self-restraint that marks those women whose lives are
+passed in the society of a man mentally inferior to themselves. Of
+course all women are in a sense doomed to this--according to their own
+thinking.
+
+
+
+"Percy said that he would probably bring you in to tea," said Miss
+Roden, "and that probably you would be tired out."
+
+"Thanks; I am not tired. We had a good passage, and everything has run
+as smoothly. Do you take an active interest in us?"
+
+Miss Roden paused in the action of pouring out tea, and looked across
+at her interlocutor.
+
+"Not an active one," she answered, with a momentary gravity; and, after
+a minute, glanced at Cornish's face again.
+
+"It is going to be a big thing," he said enthusiastically. "My cousin
+Joan Ferriby is working hard at it in London. You do not know her, I
+suppose?"
+
+"I was at school with Joan," replied Miss Roden, with her soft laugh.
+
+"And we took a school-girl oath to write to each other every week when
+we parted. We kept it up--for a fortnight."
+
+Cornish's smooth face betrayed no surprise; although he had concluded
+that Miss Roden was years older than Joan.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, with ready tact, "you do not take an interest in
+the same things as Joan. In what may be called new things--not clothes,
+I mean. In factory girls' feather clubs, for instance, or haberdashers'
+assistants, or women's rights, or anything like that."
+
+"No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly
+ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or
+ought to want."
+
+Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went
+and sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked
+worn--as if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon
+him. Cornish, too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking
+down at Miss Roden with a doubtful air.
+
+"I always distrust women who say that," he said. "One naturally
+suspects them of having got what they want by some underhand
+means--and of having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of
+amalgamation; is not that so, Roden?"
+
+He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made
+some necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It
+seemed that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the
+conversation by himself.
+
+"Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?" he asked Dorothy.
+
+"Nothing," she replied. "I have not even the wit to know that I have
+any."
+
+"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "No wonder Joan ceased writing to you.
+You are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted
+your wrongs--_sub rosa_--and leave other women to manage their own
+affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the
+Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot
+help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must
+either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with
+one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery.
+But some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the
+masses. The masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a
+woman. Some day the men must combine against the women, who are already
+united behind a vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?"
+
+"I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance," said Miss
+Roden, taking his cup.
+
+"I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to----"
+He paused and drank the tea slowly. "No one knows that," he added.
+
+"Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for
+ourselves again."
+
+"That is possible," he said gravely, setting down his cup. "And now I
+must find my way back to The Hague. Good night."
+
+"He is clever," said Dorothy, when Roden returned after having shown
+Cornish the way.
+
+"Yes," answered Roden, without enthusiasm.
+
+"You do not seem to be pleased at the thought," she said carelessly.
+
+"Oh--it will be all right! If his cleverness runs in the right
+direction."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+OFFICIAL.
+
+"One may be so much a man of the world as to be nothing in the world."
+
+
+Political Economy will some day have to recognize Philanthropy as a
+possible--nay, a certain stumbling-block in the world's progress
+towards that millennium when Supply and Demand shall sit down together
+in peace. Charity is certainly sowing seed into the ridges of time
+which will bear startling fruit in the future. For Charity does not
+hesitate to close up an industry or interfere with a trade that
+supplies thousands with their daily bread. Thus the Malgamite scheme so
+glibly inaugurated by Lord Ferriby in his drawing-room bore fruit
+within a week in a quarter to which probably few concerned had ever
+thought of casting an eye. The price of a high-class tinted paper fell
+in all the markets of the world. This paper could only be manufactured
+with a large addition of malgamite to its other components. In what may
+be called the prospectus of the Malgamite scheme it was stated that
+this great charity was inaugurated for the purpose of relieving the
+distress of the malgamiters--one of the industrial scandals of the
+day--by enabling these afflicted men to make their deadly product at a
+cheaper rate and without danger to themselves. This prospectus
+naturally came to the hands of those most concerned, namely, the
+manufacturers of coloured papers and the brokers who supply those
+manufacturers with their raw material.
+
+Thus Lord Ferriby, beaming benignantly from a bower of chrysanthemums
+on a certain evening one winter not so many years ago, set rolling a
+small stone upon a steep hill. So, in fact, wags the world; and none of
+us may know when the echo of a careless word will cease vibrating in
+the hearts of some that hear.
+
+The malgamite trade was what is called a _close_ one--that is to say
+that this product passed out into the world through the hands of a few
+brokers and these brokers were powerless, in face of Lord Ferriby's
+announcement, to prevent the price of malgamite from falling. As this
+fell so fell the prices of the many kinds of paper which could not be
+manufactured without it. Thus indirectly, Lord Ferriby, with that
+obtuseness which very often finds itself in company with a highly
+developed philanthropy, touched the daily lives of thousands and
+thousands of people. And he did not know it. And Tony Cornish knew it
+not. And Joan and the subscribers never dreamt or thought of such a
+thing.
+
+The paper market became what is called sensitive--that is to say,
+prices rose and fell suddenly without apparent reason. Some men made
+money and others lost it. Presently, however--that is to say, in the
+month of March--two months after Tony Cornish had safely conveyed his
+malgamite makers to their new home on the sand dunes of
+Scheveningen--the paper markets of the world began to settle down
+again, and steadier prices ruled. This could be traced--as all
+commercial changes may be traced--to the original flow at one of the
+fountain-heads of supply and demand. It arose from the simple fact that
+a broker in London had bought some of the new malgamite--the
+Scheveningen malgamite--and had issued it to his clients, who said that
+it was good. He had, moreover, bought it cheaper. In a couple of days
+all the world--all the world concerned in the matter--knew of it. Such
+is commerce at the end of the century.
+
+And Cornish, casually looking in at the little office of the Malgamite
+Charity, where a German clerk recommended by Herr von Holzen kept the
+books of the scheme, found his table littered with telegrams. Tony
+Cornish had a reputation for being clever. He was, as a matter of fact,
+intelligent. The world nearly always mistakes intelligence for
+cleverness, just as it nearly always mistakes laughter for happiness.
+He was, however, clever enough to have found out during the last two
+months that the Malgamite scheme was a bigger thing than either he or
+his uncle had ever imagined.
+
+Many questions had arisen during those two months of Cornish's honorary
+secretary ship of the charity which he had been unable to answer, and
+which he had been obliged to refer to Roden and Von Holzen. These had
+replied readily, and the matter as solved by them seemed simple enough.
+But each question seemed to have side issues--indeed, the whole scheme
+appeared suddenly to bristle with side issues, and Tony Cornish began
+to find himself getting really interested in something at last.
+
+The telegrams were not alone upon his office table. There were letters
+as well. It was a nice little office, furnished by Joan with a certain
+originality which certainly made it different from any other office in
+Westminster. It had, moreover, the great recommendation of being above
+a Ladies' Tea Association, so that afternoon tea could be easily
+procured. The German clerk quite counted on receiving three
+half-holidays a week and Joan brought her friends to tea, and her
+mother to chaperon. These little tea-parties became quite notorious,
+and there was a question of a cottage piano, which was finally
+abandoned in favour of a banjo. It happened to be a wire-puzzle winter,
+and Cornish had the best collection of rings on impossible wire mazes,
+and glass beads strung upon intertwisted hooks, in Westminster, if not,
+indeed, in the whole of London. Then, of course, there were the
+committee meetings--that is to say, the meeting of the lady committees
+of the bazaar and ball sub-committees. The wire puzzles and the
+association tea were an immense feature of these.
+
+Cornish was quite accustomed to finding a number of letters awaiting
+him, and had been compelled to buy a waste-paper basket of abnormal
+dimensions--so many moribund charities cast envious eyes upon the
+Malgamite scheme, and wondered how it was done, and, on the chance of
+it, offered Cornish honourable honorary posts. But the telegrams had
+been few, and nearly all from Roden. There was a letter from Roden this
+morning.
+
+"DEAR CORNISH" (he wrote),--
+
+"You will probably receive applications from malgamite workers in
+different parts of the world for permission to enter our works. Accept
+them all, and arrange for their enlistment as soon as possible.
+
+"Yours in haste,
+
+"P.R."
+
+Percy Roden was usually in haste, and wrote a bad letter in a beautiful
+handwriting.
+
+Cornish turned to the telegrams. They were one and all applications
+from malgamite makers--from Venice to Valparaiso--to be enrolled in the
+Scheveningen group. He was still reading them when Lord Ferriby came
+into the little office. His lordship was wearing a new fancy waistcoat.
+It was the month of April--the month assuredly of fancy waistcoats
+throughout all nature. Lord Ferriby was, as usual, rather pleased with
+himself. He had walked down Piccadilly with great effect, and a bishop
+had bowed to him, recognizing, in a sense, a lay bishop.
+
+"What have you got there, Tony?" he asked, affably, laying his smart
+walking-stick on an inlaid bureau, which was supposed to be his, and
+was always closed, and had nothing in it.
+
+"Telegrams," answered Cornish, "from malgamite makers, who want to join
+the works at Scheveningen. Seventy-six of them. I don't quite
+understand this business."
+
+"Neither do I," admitted Lord Ferriby, in a voice which clearly
+indicated that if he only took the trouble he could understand
+anything. "But I fancy it is one of the biggest things in charity that
+has ever been started."
+
+In the company of men, and especially of young men, Lord Ferriby
+allowed himself a little license in speech. He at times almost verged
+on the slangy, which is, of course, quite correct and _de haut ton_,
+and he did not want to be taken for an old buffer, as were his
+contemporaries. Therefore he called himself an old buffer whenever he
+could. _Qui s'excuse s'accuse._
+
+"Of course," he added, "we must take the poor fellows."
+
+Without comment, Cornish handed him Roden's letter, and while Lord
+Ferriby read it, employed himself in making out a list of the names and
+addresses of the applicants. Cornish was, in fact, rising to the
+occasion. In other circumstances Anthony Cornish might with favourable
+influence--say that of a Scottish head clerk--have been made into what
+is called a good business man. Without any training whatever, and with
+an education which consisted only of a smattering of the classics and a
+rigid code of honour, he usually perceived what it was wise to do. Some
+people call this genius; others, luck.
+
+"I see," said Lord Ferriby, "that Roden is of the same opinion as
+myself. A shrewd fellow, Roden." And he pulled down his fancy
+waistcoat.
+
+"Then I may write, or telegraph, to these men, and tell them to come?"
+asked Cornish.
+
+"Most certainly, my dear Anthony. We will collect them, or muster them,
+as White calls it, in London, and then send them to Scheveningen, as
+before, when Roden and Herr von Holzen are ready for them. Send a note
+to White, whose department this mustering is. As a soldier he
+understands the handling of a body of men. You and I are more competent
+to deal with a sum of money."
+
+Lord Ferriby glanced towards the door to make sure that it was open, so
+that the German clerk in the outer office should lose nothing that
+could only be for his good--might, in fact, pick up a few crumbs from
+the richly stored table of a great man's mind.
+
+Lord Ferriby leisurely withdrew his gloves and laid them on the inlaid
+bureau. He had the physique of a director of public companies, and the
+grave manner that impresses shareholders. He talked of the weather,
+drew Cornish's attention to a blot of ink on the high-art wallpaper,
+and then put on his gloves again, well pleased with himself and his
+morning's work.
+
+"Everything appears to be in order, my dear Anthony," he said.
+"So there is nothing to keep me here any longer."
+
+"Nothing," replied Cornish; and his lordship departed.
+
+Cornish remained until it was time to go across St. James's Park to his
+club to lunch. He answered a certain number of letters himself, the
+others he handed over to the German clerk--a man with all the virtues,
+smooth, upright hair, and a dreamy eye. The malgamite makers were
+bidden to come as soon as they liked. After luncheon Cornish had to
+hurry back to Great George Street. This was one of his busy days. At
+four o'clock there was to be a meeting of the floor committee of the
+approaching ball, and Cornish remembered that he had been specially
+told to get a new bass string for the banjo. The Hon. Rupert Dalkyn
+had promised to come, but had vowed that he would not touch the banjo
+again unless it had new strings. So Cornish bought the bass string at
+the Army and Navy Stores, and the first preparation for the meeting of
+the floor committee was the tuning of the banjo by the German clerk.
+
+There were, of course, flowers to be bought and arranged _tant bien que
+mal_ in empty ink-stands, a conceit of Joan's, who refused to spend the
+fund money in any ornament less serious, while she quite recognized the
+necessity for flowers on the table of a mixed committee.
+
+The Hon. Rupert was the first to arrive. He was very small and neat and
+rather effeminate. The experienced could tell at a glance that he came
+from a fighting stock. He wore a grave and rather preoccupied air. He
+sat down on the arm of a chair and looked sadly into the fire, while
+his lips moved.
+
+"Got something on your mind?" asked Cornish, who was putting the
+finishing touches to the arrangement of the room.
+
+"Yes, a new song composed for the occasion 'The Maudlin Malgamite';
+like to hear it?"
+
+"Well, I would rather wait. I think I hear a carriage at the door,"
+said Cornish, hastily.
+
+Rupert Dalkyn had to be elected to the floor committee because he was
+Mrs. Courteville's brother, and Mrs. Courteville was the best chaperon
+in London. She was not only a widow, but her husband had been killed in
+rather painful circumstances.
+
+"Poor dear," the people said when she had done something perhaps a
+little unusual--"poor dear; you know her husband was killed."
+
+So the late Courteville, in his lone grave by the banks of the Ogowe
+River, watched over his wife's welfare, and made quite a nice place for
+her in London society.
+
+Rupert himself had been intended for the Church, but had at Cambridge
+developed such an exquisite sense of humour and so killing a power of
+mimicry that no one of the dons was safe, and his friends told him that
+he really mustn't. So he didn't. Since then Rupert had, to tell the
+truth, done nothing. The exquisite sense of humour had also slightly
+evaporated. People said, "Oh yes, very funny," than which nothing is
+ more fatal to humour; and elderly ladies smiled a pinched smile at one
+side of their lips. It is so difficult to see a joke through those
+long-handled eye-glasses.
+
+
+Cornish was quite right when he said that he had heard a carriage, for
+presently the door opened, and Mrs. Courteville came in. She was small
+and slight--"a girlish figure," her maid told her--and well dressed.
+She was just at that age when she did not look it--at an age, moreover,
+when some women seem to combine a maximum of experience with a minimum
+of thought. But who are we to pick holes in our neighbours' garments?
+If any of us is quite sure that he is not doing more harm than good in
+the world, let him by all means throw stones at Mrs. Courteville.
+
+Joan arrived next, accompanied by Lady Ferriby, who knew that if she
+stayed at home she would only have to give tea to a number of people
+towards whom she did not feel kindly enough disposed to reconcile
+herself to the expense. Joan glanced hastily from Mrs. Courteville to
+Tony. She had noticed that Mrs. Courteville always arrived early at the
+floor committee meetings when these were held at the Malgamite office
+or in Cornish's rooms. Joan wondered, while Mrs. Courteville was
+kissing her, whether the widow had come with her brother or before him.
+
+"Has he not made the room look pretty with that mimosa?" asked Mrs.
+Courteville, vivaciously. People did not know how matters stood
+between Joan Ferriby and Tony Cornish, and always wanted to know.
+That is why Mrs. Courteville said "he" only when she drew Joan's
+attention to the flowers.
+
+The meeting may best be described as lively. We belong, however, to an
+eminently practical generation, and some business was really
+transacted. The night for the Malgamite ball was fixed, and a list of
+stewards drawn up; and then the Hon. Rupert played the banjo.
+
+Lady Ferriby had some calls to pay, so Cornish volunteered to walk
+across the park with Joan, who had a healthy love of exercise. They
+talked of various matters, and of course returned again and again to
+the Malgamite affairs.
+
+"By the way," said Joan, at the corner of Cambridge Terrace, "I had a
+letter this morning from Dorothy Roden. I was at school with her, you
+know, and never dreamt that Mr. Roden was her brother. In fact, I had
+nearly forgotten her existence. She is coming across for the ball. She
+says she saw you when you were at The Hague. You never mentioned her,
+Tony."
+
+"Didn't I? She is not interested in the Malgamite scheme, you know. And
+nobody who is not interested in that is worth mentioning."
+
+They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then Cornish asked a
+question.
+
+"What sort of person was she at school?"
+
+"Oh, she was a frivolous sort of girl--never took anything seriously,
+you know. That is why she is not interested in the Malgamite, I
+suppose."
+
+"I suppose so," said Tony Cornish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SEAMY SIDE.
+
+"For this is death, and the sole death,
+When a man's loss comes to him from his gain."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart told Roden that her house was in Park Street in The
+Hague. But she did not mention that it was at the corner of Orange
+Street, which makes all the difference. For Park Street is long, and
+the further end of it--the extremity furthest removed from the Royal
+Palace--is less desirable than the neighbourhood of the Vyverberg. Mrs.
+Vansittart's house was in the most desirable part of a most desirable
+little city. She was surrounded with houses inhabited by people bearing
+names well known in history. These people are, moreover, of a
+fascinating cosmopolitanism. They come from all parts of the world, in
+an ancestral sense. There are, for instance, Dutch people living here
+whose names are Scottish. There are others of French extraction, others
+again whose forefathers came to Holland with the Don Juan of the
+religious wars whose history reads like a romance.
+
+Outwardly Mrs. Vansittart's house was of dark red brick, with stone
+facings, and probably belonged to that period which in England is
+called Tudor. Inwardly the house was as comfortable as thick carpets
+and rich curtains and beautiful carvings could make it. The Dutch are
+pre-eminently the flower-growers of the world, and the observant
+traveller walking along Orange Street may note even in midwinter that
+the flowers in the windows are changed each day. In this, as in other
+_menus plaisirs_, Mrs. Vansittart had assumed the ways of the country
+of her adoption. For Holland suggests to the inquiring mind an elderly
+gentleman, now getting a little stout, who, after a wild youth, is
+beginning to appreciate the blessings of repose and comfort; who,
+having laid by a small sufficiency, sits peaceably by the fire, and
+reflects upon the days that are no more.
+
+It was Mrs. Vansittart's pleasant habit to surround herself with every
+comfort. She was an eminently self-respecting person--of that
+self-respect which denies itself nothing except excess. She liked to be
+well dressed, well housed, and well served. She possessed money, and
+with it she bought these adjuncts, which in a minor degree are within
+the reach of nearly everybody, though few have the wit to value them.
+She was not, however, a vociferously contented woman. Like many
+another, she probably wanted something that money could not buy.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, in fulfilment of her promise to Percy Roden, called on
+Dorothy at the Villa des Dunes, who in due course came to the house at
+the corner of Park Street and Orange Street to return the visit.
+Dorothy had been out when Mrs. Vansittart called, but she thought she
+knew from her brother's description what sort of woman to expect. For
+Dorothy Roden had been educated abroad, and was not without knowledge
+of a certain class of English lady to be met with on the Continent, who
+is always well connected, invariably idle, and usually refers
+gracefully to a great sorrow in the past.
+
+But Dorothy knew, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vansittart that she had
+formed an entirely erroneous conception. This was not the sort of woman
+to seek the admiration of the first-comer, and Percy Roden had allowed
+his sister to surmise that, whether it had been sought or not, Mrs.
+Vansittart had certainly been accorded his highest admiration.
+
+"It is good of you to return my call so soon," she said, in a friendly
+voice. "You have walked, I suppose, all the way from the Villa des
+Dunes. English girls are such great walkers now--a most excellent
+thing. I belong to the semi-generation older than yours, which
+preferred a carriage. I am an atrocious walker. You are not at all like
+your brother." And she threw back her head and looked speculatively at
+her visitor. "Sit down," she said, with a laugh. "You probably came
+here harbouring a prejudice against me. One should never get to know a
+woman through her men-folk. That is a rule almost without exception;
+you may take it from one who is many years older than you. But--well,
+_nous verrons_. Perhaps we are the exception."
+
+"I hope so," answered Dorothy, who was ready enough of speech. "At all
+events, all that Percy told me made me anxious to meet you. It is
+rather lonely, you know, at the Villa des Dunes. You see, Percy is
+engaged all day with his malgamiters. And, of course, we know no one
+here yet."
+
+"There is Herr von Holzen," suggested Mrs. Vansittart, ringing the bell
+for tea.
+
+"Oh yes. The man who is associated with Percy at the works? I do not
+know him. Percy has not brought him to the villa."
+
+"Ah! Is that so? That is nice of your brother. Sometimes men, you know,
+make use of their wives or their sisters to help them in their business
+relationships. I have known a man use his pretty daughter to gain a
+client. Beauty levels all, you see. Not nice, no; I suppose Herr von
+Holzen, is--well--let us call him a foreign savant. Such a nice broad
+term, you know; covers such a plentiful lack of soap." And she laughed
+easily, with eyes that were quite grave and alert.
+
+"My brother does not say much about him," answered Dorothy Roden.
+"Percy never does tell me much of his affairs, and I am not sorry. I am
+sure I should not understand them. Stocks and shares and freights and
+things. I never quite know whether a freight is part of a ship; do
+you?"
+
+"No. There are so many things more useful to know, are there
+not?--things about people and human nature, for instance."
+
+"Yes," said Dorothy, looking at her companion thoughtfully--"yes."
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart returned that thoughtful glance. "And the other
+man," she said suddenly, "Mr.--Cornish--do you know him?"
+
+"He called at the Villa des Dunes. My brother brought him in to tea the
+evening of arrival of the first batch of malgamiters," replied Dorothy.
+
+"Mr. Cornish interests me," said Mrs. Vansittart. "I knew him when he
+was a boy--or little more than a boy. He came to Weimar with a tutor to
+learn German when I happened to be living there. I have heard of him
+from time to time since. One sees his name in the society papers, you
+know. He is one of those persons of whom something is expected by his
+friends--not by himself. The young man who expects something of himself
+is usually disappointed. Have you ever noticed in the biographies of
+great men, Miss Roden that people nearly always began to expect
+something of them when they were quite young? As if they were cast in a
+different mould from the very first. Really great men, I mean not the
+fashionable pianist or novelist of the hour whose portrait is in every
+illustrated journal for perhaps two months, and then he is forgotten."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart spoke quickly in a foreign manner, asking with a
+certain vivacity questions which required no answer. Dorothy Roden was
+not slow of speech, but she touched topics with less airiness. Her mind
+seemed a trifle insular in its tendencies. One topic attracted her, and
+the rest were set aside.
+
+"Why does Mr. Cornish interest you?" she asked.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shrugged her shoulders and leant back in her deep
+chair.
+
+"He strikes me as a person with infinite capacity for holding his
+cards. That is all. But perhaps he has no good cards in his hand?
+Nothing but rubbish--the twos and threes of ordinary drawing-room
+smartness--and never a trump. Who can tell? _Qui vivra verra_,
+Miss. Roden. It may not be in my time that the world shall hear of Tony
+Cornish--the real world, not the journalistic world, I mean. He may
+ripen slowly, and I shall be dead. I am getting elderly. How old do you
+think I am, Miss Roden?"
+
+"Thirty-five," replied Dorothy; and Mrs. Vansittart turned sharply to
+look at her.
+
+"Ah!" she said, slowly and thoughtfully. "Yes, you are quite right.
+That is my age. And I suppose I look it. I suppose others would have
+guessed with equal facility, but not everybody would have had the
+honesty to say what they thought."
+
+Dorothy laughed and changed colour. "I said it without thinking," she
+answered. "I hope you do not mind."
+
+"No, I do not mind," said Mrs. Vansittart, looking out of the window.
+"But we were talking of Mr. Cornish."
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy, buttoning her glove and glancing at the clock.
+"Yes; but I must not talk any longer or I shall be late, and my brother
+expects to find me at home when he returns from the works."
+
+She rose and shook hands, looking Mrs. Vansittart in the eyes. When
+Dorothy had gone, the lady of the house stood for a minute looking at
+the closed door.
+
+"I wonder what she thinks of me?" she said.
+
+And Dorothy Roden, walking down Park Straat, was doing the same. She
+was wondering what she thought of Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+Although it was the month of April, the winter mists still rose at
+evening and swept seawards from the marshes of Leyden. The trees had
+scarcely begun to break into bud, for it had been a cold spring, and
+the ice was floating lazily on the canal as Dorothy walked along its
+bank. The Villa des Dunes was certainly somewhat lonely, standing as it
+did a couple of hundred yards back from a sandy road--one of the many
+leading from The Hague to Scheveningen. Between the villa and the road
+the dunes had scarcely been molested, except indeed, to cut a narrow
+roadway to the house. When Dorothy reached home, she found that her
+brother had not yet returned. She looked at the clock. He was later
+than usual. The malgamite works had during the last few weeks been
+absorbing more and more of his attention. When he returned home, tired,
+in the evening, he was not communicative. As for Otto von Holzen, he
+never showed his face outside the works now, but seemed to live the
+life of a recluse within the iron fence that surrounded the little
+colony.
+
+Percy Roden had not returned to the Villa des Dunes at the usual hour
+because he had other work to do. Von Holzen and he were now standing in
+one of the little huts in silence. The light of the setting sun glowed
+through the window upon their faces, upon the bare walls of the room,
+rendered barer and in no way beautified by a terrible German print
+purporting to represent the features of Prince Bismarck.
+
+Von Holzen stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, and looked
+out of the window across the dreary dunes. Roden stood beside him,
+slouching and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets.
+His lower lip was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn
+and anxious.
+
+On the bed, between the two men, lay a third--an old-looking youth with
+lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and it
+was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere. The man
+was dying. He was a Pole who understood no word of English. Indeed,
+these three men had no language in common in which to make themselves
+understood.
+
+"Can you do nothing at all?" asked Roden, for the second or third time.
+
+"Nothing," answered Von Holzen, without turning round. "He was a doomed
+man when he came here."
+
+The man lay on the bed and stared at Von Holzen's back. Perhaps that
+was the reason why Von Holzen so persistently looked out of the window.
+The work-hours were over, and from some neighbouring cottage the sounds
+of a concertina came on the quiet air. The musician had chosen a
+popular music-hall song, which he played over and over again with a
+maddening pertinacity. Roden bit his lip, and frowned at each
+repetition of the opening bars. Von Holzen, with a still, pale face and
+stern eyes, seemed to hear nothing. He had no nerves. At times he
+twisted his lips, moistening them with his tongue, and suppressed an
+impatient sigh. The man was a long time in dying. They had been waiting
+there two hours. This little incident had to be passed over as quietly
+as possible on account of the feelings of the concertina player and the
+others.
+
+The door stood ajar, and in the adjoining room a professional nurse, in
+cap and apron, sat reading a German newspaper. This also was a bedroom.
+The cottage was, in point of fact, the hospital of the malgamite
+workers. The nurse, whose services had not hitherto been wanted, had
+since the inauguration of the works spent some pleasant weeks at a
+pension at Scheveningen. She read her newspaper very philosophically,
+and waited.
+
+Roden it was who watched the patient. The dying man never heeded him,
+but looked persistently towards Von Holzen. The expression of his eyes
+indicated that if they had had a language in common he would have
+spoken to him. Roden saw the direction of the man's glance, and perhaps
+read its meaning. For Percy Roden was handicapped with that greatest of
+all drags on a successful career--a soft heart. He could speak harshly
+enough of the malgamiters as a class, but he was drawn towards this
+dumb individual, with a strong desire to effect the impossible. Von
+Holzen had not promised that there should be no deaths. He had merely
+undertaken to reduce the dangers of the malgamite industry gradually
+and steadily until they ceased to exist. He had, moreover, the strength
+of mind to give to this incident its proper weight in the balance of
+succeeding events. He was not, in a word, handicapped as was his
+colleague.
+
+
+The sun set beyond the quiet sea and over the sand dunes the shades of
+evening crept towards the west. The outline of Prince Bismarck's iron
+face faded slowly in the gathering darkness, until it was nothing but a
+shadow in a frame on the bare wall. The concertina player had laid
+aside his instrument. A sudden silence fell upon land and sea.
+
+Von Holzen turned sharply on his heel and leant over the bed.
+
+"Come along," he said to Roden, with averted eyes. "It is all over.
+There is nothing more for us to do here."
+
+With a backward glance towards the bed, Roden followed his companion,
+out of the room into the adjoining apartment where the nurse was
+sitting, and where their coats and hats lay on the bed. Von Holzen
+spoke to the woman in German.
+
+"So!" she answered, with a mild interest, and folded her paper.
+
+The two men went out into the keen air together, and did not look
+towards each other or speak. Perhaps they knew that if there is any
+difficulty in speaking of a subject it is better to keep silence. They
+crossed the sandy space between this cottage and the others grouped
+round the factory like tents around their headquarters. One of these
+huts was Von Holzen's--a three-roomed building where he worked and
+slept. Its windows looked out upon the factory, and commanded the only
+entrance to the railed enclosure within which the whole colony was
+confined. It was Von Holzen's habit to shut himself within his cottage
+for days together, living there in solitude like some crustacean within
+its shell. At the door he turned, with his fingers on the handle.
+
+"You must not worry yourself about this," he said to Roden, with
+averted eyes. "It cannot be helped, you know."
+
+"No; I know that."
+
+
+"And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden."
+
+"Of course. Good night, Von Holzen."
+
+And Percy Roden passed through the gateway, walking slowly across the
+dunes towards his own house; while Von Holzen watched him from the
+window of the little three-roomed cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A SHADOW FROM THE PAST.
+
+"Le plus sur moyen d'arriver � son but c'est de ne pas faire de
+rencontres en chemin."
+
+
+"Yes, it was long ago--'lang, lang izt's her'--you remember the song
+Frau Neumayer always sang. So long ago, Mr. Cornish, that----Well, it
+must be Mr. Cornish, and not Tony."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart leant back in her comfortable chair and looked at her
+visitor with observant eyes. Those who see the most are they who never
+appear to be observing. It is fatal to have others say that one is so
+sharp, and people said as much of Mrs. Vansittart, who had quick dark
+eyes and an alert manner.
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, "it is long ago, but not so long as all that."
+
+His smooth fair face was slightly troubled by the knowledge that the
+recollections to which she referred were those of the Weimar days when
+she who was now a widow had been a young married woman. Tony Cornish
+had also been young in those days, and impressionable. It was before
+the world had polished his surface bright and hard. And the impression
+left of the Mrs. Vansittart of Weimar was that she was one of the rare
+women who marry _pour le bon motif_. He had met her by accident in the
+streets of The Hague a few hours ago, and having learnt her address,
+had, in duty bound, called at the house at the corner of Park Straat
+and Oranje Straat at the earliest calling hour.
+
+"I am not ignorant of your history since you were at Weimar," said the
+lady, looking at him with an air of almost maternal scrutiny.
+
+"I have no history," he replied. "I never had a past even, a few years
+ago, when every man who took himself seriously had at least one."
+
+He spoke as he had learnt to speak, with the surface of his
+mind--with the object of passing the time and avoiding topics that
+might possibly be painful. Many who appear to be egotistical must
+assuredly be credited with this good motive. One is, at all events,
+safe in talking of one's self. Sufficient for the social day is the
+effort to avoid glancing at the cupboard where our neighbour keeps his
+skeleton.
+
+A silence followed Cornish's heroic speech, and it was perhaps better
+to face it than stave it off.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Vansittart, at the end of that pause, "I am a widow
+and childless. I see the questions in your face."
+
+Cornish gave a little nod of the head, and looked out of the window.
+Mrs. Vansittart was only a year older than himself, but the difference
+in their life and experience, when they had learnt to know each other
+at Weimar, had in some subtle way augmented the seniority.
+
+"Then you never--" he said, and paused.
+
+"No," she answered lightly. "So I am what the world calls independent,
+you see. No encumbrance of any sort."
+
+Again he nodded without speaking.
+
+"The line between an encumbrance and a purpose is not very clearly
+defined, is it?" she said lightly; and then added a question, "What are
+you doing in The Hague--Malgamite?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, in surprise, "Malgamite."
+
+"Oh, I know all about it," laughed Mrs. Vansittart. "I see Dorothy
+Roden at least once a week."
+
+"But she takes no part in it."
+
+"No; she takes no part in it, _mon ami_, except in so far as it affects
+her brother and compels her to live in a sad little villa on the
+Dunes."
+
+"And you--you are interested?"
+
+"Most assuredly. I have even given my mite. I am interested in"--she
+paused and shrugged her shoulders--"in you, since you ask me, in
+Dorothy, and in Mr. Roden. He gave the flowers at which you are so
+earnestly looking, by the way."
+
+"Ah!" said Cornish, politely.
+
+"Yes," answered Mrs. Vansittart, with a passing smile. "He is kind
+enough to give me flowers from time to time. You never gave me flowers,
+Mr. Cornish, in the olden times."
+
+"Because I could not afford good ones."
+
+"And you would not offer anything more reasonable?"
+
+"Not to you," he answered.
+
+"But of course that was long ago."
+
+"Yes. I am glad to hear that you know Miss Roden. It will make the
+little villa on the Dunes less sad. The atmosphere of malgamite is not
+cheerful. One sees it at its best in a London drawing-room. It is one
+of the many realities which have an evil odour when approached too
+closely."
+
+"And you are coming nearer to it?"
+
+"It is coming nearer to me."
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, examining the rings with which her fingers
+were laden. "I thought there would be developments."
+
+"There are developments. Hence my presence in The Hague. Lord Ferriby
+_et famille_ arrive to-morrow. Also my friend Major White."
+
+"The fighting man?" inquired Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"Yes, the fighting man. We are to have a solemn meeting. It has been
+found necessary to alter our financial basis----"
+
+Mrs. Vansittart held up a warning hand. "Do not talk to me of your
+financial basis. I know nothing of money. It is not from that point of
+view that I contemplate your Malgamite scheme."
+
+"Ah! Then, if one may inquire, from what point of view....?"
+
+"From the human point of view; as does every other woman connected with
+it. We are advancing, I admit, but I think we shall always be willing
+to leave the--financial basis--to your down-trodden sex."
+
+"It is very kind of you to be interested in these poor people," began
+Cornish; but Mrs. Vansittart interrupted him vivaciously.
+
+"Poor people? Gott bewahre!" she cried. "Did you think I meant the
+workers? Oh no! I am not interested in them. I am interested in your
+Rodens and your Ferribys and your Whites, and even in your Tony
+Cornish. I wonder who will quarrel and who will--well, do the contrary,
+and what will come of it all? In my day young people were brought
+together by a common pleasure, but that has gone out of fashion. And
+now it is a common endeavour to achieve the impossible, to check the
+stars in their courses by the holding of mixed meetings, and the
+enunciation of second-hand platitudes respecting the poor and the
+masses--this is what brings the present generation into that
+intercourse which ends in love and marriage and death--the old
+programme. And it is from that point of view alone, _mon ami_, that I
+take a particle of interest in your Malgamite scheme."
+
+All of which Tony Cornish remembered later; for it was untrue. He rose
+to take his leave with polite hopes of seeing her again.
+
+"Oh, do not hurry away," she said. "I am expecting Dorothy Roden, who
+promised to come to tea. She will be disappointed not to see you."
+
+Cornish laughed in his light way. "You are kind in your assumptions,"
+he answered. "Miss Roden is barely aware of my existence, and would not
+know me from Adam."
+
+Nevertheless he stayed, moving about the room for some minutes looking
+at the flowers and the pictures, of which he knew just as much as was
+desirable and fashionable. He knew what flowers were "in," such as
+fuchsias and tulips, and what were "out," such as camellias and double
+hyacinths. About the pictures he knew a little, and asked questions as
+to some upon the walls that belonged to the Dutch school. He was of the
+universe, universal. Then he sat down again unobtrusively, and Mrs.
+Vansittart did not seem to notice that he had done so, though she
+glanced at the clock.
+
+A few minutes later Dorothy came in. She changed colour when Mrs.
+Vansittart half introduced Cornish with the conventional, "I think you
+know each other."
+
+"I knew you were coming to The Hague," she said, shaking hands with
+Cornish. "I had a letter from Joan the other day. They all are coming,
+are they not? I am afraid Joan will be very much disappointed in me.
+She thinks I am wrapped up heart and soul in the malgamiters--and I am
+not, you know."
+
+She turned with a little laugh, and appealed to Mrs. Vansittart, who
+was watching her closely, as if Dorothy were displaying some quality or
+point hitherto unknown to the older woman. The girl's eyes were
+certainly brighter than usual.
+
+"Joan takes some things very seriously," answered Cornish.
+
+"We all do that," said Mrs. Vansittart, without looking up from the
+tea-table at which she was engaged. "Yes; it is a mistake, of course."
+
+"Possibly," assented Mrs. Vansittart. "Do you take sugar, Miss Roden?"
+
+"Yes, please--seriously. Two pieces."
+
+"Are you like Joan?" asked Cornish, as he gave her the cup. "Do you
+take anything else seriously?"
+
+"Oh no," answered Dorothy Roden, with a laugh.
+
+"And your brother?" inquired Mrs. Vansittart. "Is he coming this
+afternoon?"
+
+"He will follow me. He is busy with the new malgamiters who arrived
+this morning. I suppose you brought them, Mr. Cornish?"
+
+"Yes, I brought them. Twenty-four of them--the dregs, so to speak. The
+very last of the malgamiters, collected from all parts of the world. I
+was not proud of them."
+
+He sat down and quickly changed the conversation, showing quite clearly
+that this subject interested him as little as it interested his
+companions. He brought the latest news from London, which the ladies
+were glad enough to hear. For to Dorothy Roden, at least, The Hague was
+a place of exile, where men lived different lives and women thought
+different thoughts. Are there not a hundred little rivulets of news
+which never flow through the journals, but are passed from mouth to
+mouth, and seem shallow enough, but which, uniting at last, form a
+great stream of public opinion, and this, having formed itself
+imperceptibly, is suddenly found in full flow, and is so obvious that
+the newspapers forget to mention it? Thus colonists and other exiles
+returning to England, and priding themselves upon having kept in touch
+with the progress of events and ideas in the old country, find that
+their thoughts have all the while been running in the wrong
+channels--that seemingly great events have been considered very small,
+that small ideas have been lifted high by the babbling crowd which is
+vaguely called society.
+
+From Tony Cornish, Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy learnt that among other
+social playthings charity was for the moment being laid aside. We have
+inherited, it appears, a great box of playthings, and the careful
+ student of history will find that none of the toys are new--that they
+have indeed been played with by our forefathers, who did just as we do.
+They took each toy from the box, and cried aloud that it was new, that
+the world had never seen its like before. Had it not, indeed? Then
+presently the toy--be it charity, or a new religion, or sentiment, or
+greed of gain, or war--is thrown back into the box again, where it lies
+until we of a later day drag it forth with the same cry that it is new.
+We grow wild with excitement over South African mines, and never
+recognize the old South Sea bubble trimmed anew to suit the taste of
+the day. We crow with delight over our East End slums, and never
+recognize the patched-up remnants of the last Crusade that fizzled out
+so ignominiously at Acre five hundred years ago.
+
+So Tony Cornish, who was _dans le movement_ gently intimated to his
+hearers that what may be called a robuster tone ruled the spirit of the
+age. Charity was going down, athletics were coming up. Another
+Olympiad had passed away. Wise indeed was Solon, who allowed four years
+for men to soften and to harden again. During the Olympiads it is to be
+presumed that men busied themselves with the slums that existed in
+those days, hearkened to the decadent poetry or fiction of that time,
+and then, as the robuster period of the games came round, braced
+themselves once more to the consideration of braver things.
+
+It appeared, therefore, that the Malgamite scheme was already a thing
+of the past so far as social London was concerned. A sensational
+'Varsity boat-race had given charity its _coup de grace_, had ushered
+in the spring, when even the poor must shift for themselves.
+
+"And in the mean time," commented Mrs. Vansittart, "here are four
+hundred industrials landed, if one may so put it, at The Hague."
+
+"Yes; but that will be all right," retorted Cornish, with his gay
+laugh. "They only wanted a start. They have got their start. What more
+can they desire? Is not Lord Ferriby himself coming across? He is at
+the moment on board the Flushing boat. And he is making a great
+sacrifice, for he must be aware that he does not look nearly so
+impressive on the Continent as he does, say in Piccadilly, where the
+policemen know him, and even the newspaper boys are dimly aware that
+this is no ordinary man to whom one may offer a halfpenny Radical
+paper----"
+
+Cornish broke off, and looked towards the door, which was at this
+moment thrown open by a servant, who announced--"Herr Roden. Herr von
+Holzen."
+
+The two men came forward together, Roden slouching and
+heavy-shouldered, but well dressed; Von Holzen smaller, compacter, with
+a thoughtful, still face and calculating eyes. Roden introduced his
+companion to the two ladies. It is possible that a certain reluctance
+in his manner indicated the fact that he had brought Von Holzen against
+his own desire. Either Von Holzen had asked to be brought or Mrs.
+Vansittart had intimated to Roden that she would welcome his associate,
+but this was not touched upon in the course of the introduction.
+Cornish looked gravely on. Von Holzen was betrayed into a momentary
+gaucheness, as if he were not quite at home in a drawing-room.
+
+
+
+
+Roden drew forward a chair, and seated himself near to Mrs. Vansittart
+with an air of familiarity which the lady seemed rather to invite than
+to resent. They had, it appeared, many topics in common. Roden had come
+with the purpose of seeing Mrs. Vansittart, and no one else. Her
+manner, also, changed as soon as Roden entered the room, and seemed to
+appeal with a sort of deference to his judgment of all that she said or
+did. It was a subtle change, and perhaps no one noticed it, though
+Dorothy, who was exchanging conventional remarks with Von Holzen,
+glanced across the room once.
+
+"Ah," Von Holzen was saying in his grave way, with his head bent a
+little forward, as if the rounded brow were heavy--"ah, but I am only
+the chemist, Miss Roden. It is your brother who has placed us on our
+wonderful financial basis. He has a head for finance, your brother, and
+is quick in his calculations. He understands money, whereas I am only a
+scientist."
+
+He spoke English correctly but slowly, with the Dutch accent, which is
+slighter and less guttural than the German. Dorothy was interested in
+him, and continued to talk with him, leaving Cornish standing at a
+little distance, teacup in hand. Von Holzen was in strong contrast to
+the two Englishmen. He was graver, more thoughtful, a man of deeper
+purpose and more solid intellect. There was something dimly Napoleonic
+in the direct and calculating glance of his eyes, as if he never looked
+idly at anything or any man. It was he who made a movement after the
+lapse of a few moments only, as if, having recovered his slight
+embarrassment, he did not intend to stay longer than the merest
+etiquette might demand. He crossed the room, and stood before Mrs.
+Vansittart, with his heels clapped well together, making the most
+formal conversation, which was only varied by a stiff bow.
+
+"I have a friendly recollection," he said, preparing to take his leave,
+"of a Charles Vansittart, a student at Leyden, with whom I was brought
+into contact again in later life. He was, I believe, from Amsterdam, of
+an English mother."
+
+"Ah!" replied Mrs. Vansittart. "Mine is a common name."
+
+And they bowed to each other in the foreign way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DEEPER WATER.
+
+"Une bonne intention est une �chelle trop courte."
+
+
+"I have had considerable experience in such matters, and I think I may
+say that the new financial scheme worked out by Mr. Roden and myself is
+a sound one," Lord Ferriby was saying in his best manner.
+
+He was addressing Major White, Tony Cornish, Von Holzen, and Percy
+Roden, convened to a meeting in the private _salon_ occupied by the
+Ferribys at the Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery, at The Hague.
+
+The _salon_ in question was at the front of the house on the first
+floor, and therefore looked out upon the Toornoifeld, where the trees
+were beginning to show a tender green, under the encouragement of a
+ treacherous April sun. Major White, seated bolt upright in his chair,
+looked with a gentle surprise out of the window. He had so small an
+opinion of his understanding that he usually begged explanatory persons
+to excuse him. "No doubt you're quite right, but it's no use trying to
+explain it to _me_, don't you know," he was in the habit of saying, and
+his attitude said no less at the present moment.
+
+
+Von Holzen, with his chin in the palm of his hand, watched Lord
+Ferriby's face with a greater attention than that transparent
+physiognomy required. Roden's attention was fully occupied by the
+papers on the table in front of him. He was seated by Lord Ferriby's
+side, ready to prompt or assist, as behoved a merely mechanical
+subordinate. Lord Ferriby, dimly conscious of this mental attitude, had
+spoken Roden's name with considerable patronage, and with the evident
+desire to give every man his due. Cornish, in his quick and superficial
+way, glanced from one face to the other, taking in _en passant_ any
+object in the room that happened to call for a momentary attention. He
+noted the passive and somewhat bovine surprise on White's face, and
+wondered whether it owed its presence thereto astonishment at finding
+himself taking part in a committee meeting or amazement at the
+suggestion that Lord Ferriby should be capable of evolving any scheme,
+financial or otherwise, out of his own brain. The committee thus
+summoned was a fair sample of its kind. Here were a number of men
+ dividing a sense of responsibility among them so impartially that there
+was not nearly enough of it to go round. In a multitude of councilors
+there may be safety, but it is assuredly the councillors only who are
+safe.
+
+"The reasons," continued Lord Ferriby, "why it is inexpedient to
+continue in our present position as mere trustees of a charitable fund
+are too numerous to go into at the present moment. Suffice it to say
+that there are many such reasons, and that I have satisfied myself of
+their soundness. Our chief desire is to ameliorate the condition of the
+malgamite workers. It must assuredly suggest itself to any one of us
+that the best method of doing this is to make the malgamite workers an
+independent corporation, bound together by the greatest of ties, a
+common interest."
+
+The speaker paused, and turned to Roden with a triumphant smile, as
+much as to say, "There, beat that if you can."
+
+Roden could not beat it, so he nodded thoughtfully, and examined the
+point of his pen.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Lord Ferriby, impressively, "the greatest common
+interest is a common purse."
+
+As the meeting was too small for applause, Lord Ferriby only allowed
+sufficient time for this great truth to be assimilated, and then
+continued--"It is proposed, therefore, that we turn the Malgamite
+Works into a company, the most numerous shareholders to be the
+malgamiters themselves. The most numerous shareholders, mark
+you--not the heaviest shareholders. These shall be ourselves. We
+propose to estimate the capital of the company at ten thousand pounds,
+which, as you know, is, approximately speaking, the amount
+raised by our appeals on behalf of this great charity. We shall divide
+this capital into two thousand five-pound shares, allot one share to
+each malgamite worker--say five hundred shares--and retain the
+rest--say fifteen hundred shares--ourselves. Of those fifteen hundred,
+it is proposed to allot three hundred to each of us. Do I make myself
+clear?"
+
+"Yes," answered Major White, optimistically polishing his eye-glass
+with a pocket-handkerchief. "Any ass could understand that."
+
+"Our friend Mr. Roden," continued his lordship, "who, I mention in
+passing, is one of the finest financiers with whom I have ever had
+ relationship, is of opinion that this company, having its works in
+Holland, should not be registered as a limited company in England. The
+reasons for holding such an opinion are, briefly, connected with the
+interference of the English law in the management of a limited
+liability company formed for the sole purpose of making money.
+We are not disposed to classify ourselves as such a company. We are not
+disposed to pay the English income tax on money which is intended for
+distribution in charity. Each malgamite worker, with his one share, is
+not, precisely speaking, so much a shareholder as a participator in
+profits. We are not in any sense a limited liability company."
+
+That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently
+indicated by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture
+with portentous gravity and wisdom.
+
+"As to the question of profit and loss," continued Lord Ferriby, "I am
+not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware
+that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands.
+It is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any
+way profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name
+only, and receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of
+the Malgamite Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we
+have administered the fund--for the sole benefit of the malgamite
+workers. The profits of these poor men, earned on their own share, may
+reasonably be considered in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis
+upon which I propose that we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's
+careful consideration, and I think we are ready to give our consent to
+any proposal which has received so marked a benefit. There are, of
+course, many details which will require discussion----Eh?"
+
+Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a
+few words.
+
+"Ah--yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as
+much as possible."
+
+This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had
+yawned more than once.
+
+"Now as to the past," continued Lord Ferriby. "The works have been
+going for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly
+satisfactory----Eh?"
+
+"Many deaths?" inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
+
+"Deaths? Ah--among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von Holzen
+can tell you better than I."
+
+And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across
+the table.
+
+"Yes," replied Von Holzen, quietly, "there have, of course, been
+deaths, but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had,
+as Mr. Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they
+arrived at The Hague."
+
+"They certainly looked seedy," admitted Tony.
+
+"We will, I think, turn rather to the--eh--er--living," said Lord
+Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly
+reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of
+White to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was
+that charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical
+facts, if these be discouraging. "I have here the result of the three
+months' work."
+
+He looked at the papers with so condescending an air that it was quite
+evident that, had he been a business man and not a lord, he would have
+understood them at a glance. There was a short silence while he turned
+over the closely written sheets with an air of approving interest.
+
+"Yes," he said, as if during those moments he had run his eye up all
+the column of figures and found them correct, "the result, as I say,
+gentlemen, has been most satisfactory. We have manufactured a malgamite
+which has been well received by the paper-makers. We have, furthermore,
+been able to supply at the current rate without any serious loss. We
+are increasing our plant, and the day is not so far distant when we
+may, at all events, hope to be self-supporting."
+
+Lord Ferriby sat up and pulled down his waistcoat, a sure signal that
+the fountain of his garrulous inspiration was for the moment dried up.
+
+With great presence of mind Tony Cornish interposed a question which
+only Roden could answer, and after the consideration of some
+statistics, the proceedings terminated. It had been apparent all
+through that Percy Roden was the only business man of the party.
+In any question of figures or statistics his colleagues showed plainly
+that they were at sea. Lord Ferriby had in early life been managed by
+a thrifty mother, who had in due course married him to a thrifty wife.
+Tony Cornish's business affairs had been narrowed down to the financial
+fiasco of a tailor's bill far beyond his facilities. Major White had,
+in his subaltern days, been despatched from Gibraltar on a business
+quest into the interior of Spain to buy mules there for his Queen and
+country. He fell out with a dealer at Ronda, whom he knocked down, and
+returned to Gibraltar branded as unbusiness-like and hasty, and there
+his commercial enterprise had terminated. Von Holzen was only a
+scientist, a fact of which he assured his colleagues repeatedly.
+
+If plain speaking be a sign of friendship, then women are assuredly
+capable of higher flights than men. A lifelong friendship between two
+women usually means that they quarrelled at school, and have retained
+in later days the privilege of mutual plain speaking. If Jones, who was
+Tompkins's best man, goes yachting with Tompkins in later days, these
+two sinners are quite capable of enjoying themselves immensely in the
+present without raking about among the ashes of the past to seek the
+reason why Tompkins persisted, in spite of his friends' advice, in
+making an idiot of himself over that Robinson girl--Jones standing by
+all the while with the ring in his waistcoat pocket. Whereas, if the
+friendship existed between the respective ladies of Jones and Tompkins,
+their conversation will usually be found to begin with: "I always told
+you, Maria, when we were girls together," or, "Well, Jane, when we were
+at school you never would listen to me." A man's friendship is
+apparently based upon a knowledge of another's redeeming qualities. A
+woman's dearest friend is she whose faults will bear the closest
+investigation.
+
+It was doubtless owing to these trifling variations in temperament that
+Joan Ferriby learnt more about The Hague and Percy Roden and Otto von
+Holzen, and lastly, though not leastly, Mrs. Vansittart, in ten minutes
+than Tony Cornish could have learnt in a month of patient
+investigation. The first five of these ten precious minutes were spent
+in kissing Dorothy Roden, and admiring her hat, and holding her at
+arm's length, and saying, with conviction, that she was a dear. Then
+Joan asked why Dorothy had ceased writing, and Dorothy proved that it
+was Joan who had been in default, and lo! a bridge was thrown across
+the years, and they were friends once more.
+
+"And you mean to tell me," said Joan, as they walked up the Korte
+Voorhout towards the canal and the Wood, "that you don't take any
+interest in the Malgamite scheme?"
+
+"No," answered Dorothy. "And I am weary of the very word."
+
+"But then you always were rather--well, frivolous, weren't you?"
+
+"I did not take lessons as seriously as you, perhaps, if that is what
+you mean," admitted Dorothy.
+
+And Joan, who had come across to Holland full of zeal in well-doing,
+and as seriously as ever Queen Marguerite sailed to the Holy Land,
+walked on in silence. The trees were just breaking into leaf, and the
+air was laden with a subtle odour of spring. The Korte Voorhout is, as
+many know, a short broad street, spotlessly clean, bordered on either
+side by quaint and comfortable houses. The traffic is usually limited
+to one carriage going to the Wood, and on the pavement a few leisurely
+persons engaged in taking exercise in the sunshine. It was a different
+atmosphere to that from which Joan had come, more restful, purer
+perhaps, and certainly healthier, possibly more thoughtful; and
+charity, above all virtues, to be practiced well must be practiced
+without too much reflection. He who lets wisdom guide his bounty too
+closely will end by giving nothing at all.
+
+"At all events," said Joan, "it is splendid of Mr. Roden to work so
+hard in the cause, and to give himself up to it as he does."
+
+"Ye--es."
+
+Joan turned sharply and looked at her companion. Dorothy Roden's face
+was not, perhaps, easy to read, especially when she turned, as she
+turned now, to meet an inquiring glance with an easy smile.
+
+"I have known so many of Percy's schemes," she explained, "that you
+must not expect me to be enthusiastic about this."
+
+"But this must succeed, whatever may have happened to the others,"
+cried Joan. "It is such a good cause. Surely nothing can be a better
+aim than to help such afflicted people, who cannot help themselves,
+Dorothy! And it is so splendidly organized. Why, Mr. Johnson, the
+labour expert, you know, who wears no collar and a soft hat, said that
+it could not have been better organized if it had been a strike. And a
+Bishop Somebody--a dear old man with legs like a billiard-table--said
+it reminded him of the early Christians' _esprit de corps_, or
+something like that. Doesn't sound like a bishop, though, does it?"
+
+"No, it doesn't," admitted Dorothy, doubtfully.
+
+"So if your brother thinks it will not succeed," said Joan,
+confidently, "he is wrong. Besides"--in a final voice--"he has Tony to
+help him, you know."
+
+"Yes," said Dorothy, looking straight in front of her, "of course he
+has Mr. Cornish."
+
+"And Tony," pursued Joan, eagerly, "always succeeds. There is something
+about him--I don't know what it is."
+
+Dorothy recollected that Mrs. Vansittart had said something like this
+about Tony Cornish. She had said that he had the power of holding his
+cards and only playing them at the right moment. Which is perhaps
+the secret of success in life, namely, to hold one's cards, and, if the
+right moment does not present itself, never to play them at all, but to
+hold them to the end of the game, contenting one's self with the
+knowledge that one has had, after all, the makings of a fine game that
+might have been worth the playing.
+
+"There are people, you know," Joan broke in earnestly, "who think that
+if they can secure Tony for a picnic the weather will be fine."
+
+"And does he know it?" asked Dorothy, rather shortly.
+
+"Tony?" laughed Joan. "Of course not. He never thinks about anything
+like that."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN THE OUDE WEG.
+
+"Le sage entend � demi mot."
+
+
+The porter of the hotel on the Toornoifeld was enjoying his early
+cigarette in the doorway, when he was impelled by a natural politeness
+to stand aside for one of the visitors in the hotel.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "You promenade yourself thus early?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, cheerily, "I promenade myself thus early."
+
+"You have had your coffee?" asked the porter. "It is not good to go
+near the canals when one is empty."
+
+Cornish lingered a few minutes, and made the man's mind easy on this
+point. There are many who obtain a vast deal of information without
+ever asking a question, just as there are some--and they are mostly
+women--who ask many questions and are told many lies. Tony Cornish had
+a cheery way with him which made other men talk. He was also as quick
+as a woman. He went about the world picking up information.
+
+The city clocks were striking seven as he walked across the
+Toornoifeld, where the morning mist still lingered among the trees. The
+great square was almost deserted. Holland, unlike France, is a lie-abed
+country, and at an hour when a French town would be astir and its
+streets already thronged with people hurrying to buy or sell at the
+greatest possible advantage, a Dutch city is still asleep. Park Straat
+was almost deserted as Cornish walked briskly down it towards the
+Willem's Park and Scheveningen. A few street cleaners were leisurely
+working, a few milkmen were hurrying from door to door, but the houses
+were barred and silent.
+
+Cornish walked on the right-hand side of the road, which made it all
+the easier for Mrs. Vansittart to perceive him from her bedroom window
+as he passed Oranje Straat.
+
+"Ah!" said that lady, and rang the bell for her maid, to whom she
+explained that she had a sudden desire to take a promenade this fine
+morning.
+
+So Tony Cornish walked down the Oude Weg under the trees of that great
+thoroughfare, with Mrs. Vansittart following him leisurely by one of
+the side paths, which, being elevated above the road enabled her to
+look down upon the Englishman and keep him in sight. When he came
+within view of the broad road that cuts the Scheveningen wood in two
+and leads from the East Dunes to the West--from the Malgamite Works, in
+a word, to the cemetery--he sat down on a bench hidden by the trees.
+And Mrs. Vansittart, a hundred yards behind him, took possession of a
+seat as effectually concealed.
+
+They remained thus for some time, the object of a passing curiosity to
+the fish-merchants journeying from Scheveningen to The Hague. Then Tony
+Cornish seemed to perceive something on the road towards the sea which
+interested him, and Mrs. Vansittart, rising from her seat, walked down
+to the main pathway, which commanded an uninterrupted view. That which
+had attracted Cornish's attention was a funeral, cheap, sordid, and
+obscure, which moved slowly across the Oude Weg by the road, crossing
+it at right angles. It was a peculiar funeral, inasmuch as it consisted
+of three hearses and one mourning carriage. The dead were, therefore,
+almost as numerous as the living, an unusual feature in civil burials.
+From the window of the rusty mourning coach there looked a couple of
+debased countenances, flushed with drink and that special form of
+excitement which is especially associated with a mourning coach hired
+on credit and a funeral beyond one's means. Behind these two faces
+loomed others. There seemed to be six men within the carriage.
+
+The procession was not inspiriting, and Cornish's face was momentarily
+grave as he watched it. When it had passed, he rose and walked slowly
+back towards The Hague. Before he had gone far, he met Mrs. Vansittart
+face to face, who rose from a seat as he approached.
+
+"Well, _mon ami_," she asked, with a short laugh, "have you had a
+pleasant walk?"
+
+"It has had a pleasant end, at all events," he replied, meeting her
+glance with an imperturbable smile.
+
+She jerked her head upwards with a little foreign gesture of
+indifference.
+
+"It is to be presumed," she said, as they walked on side by side, "that
+you have been exploring and investigating our--byways. Remember, my
+good Tony, that I live in The Hague, and may therefore be possessed of
+information that might be useful to you. It will probably be at your
+disposal when you need it."
+
+She looked at him with daring black eyes, and laughed. A strong man
+usually takes a sort of pride in his power. This woman enjoyed the same
+sort of exultation in her own cleverness. She was not wise enough to
+hide it, which is indeed a grim, negative pleasure usually enjoyed by
+elderly gentlemen only. Social progress has, moreover, made it almost a
+crime to hide one's light under a bushel. Are we not told, in so many
+words, by the interviewer and the personal paragraphist, that it is
+every man's duty to set his light upon a candlestick, so that his
+neighbour may at least try to blow it out?
+
+Cornish had learnt to know Mrs. Vansittart at a period in her life
+when, as a young married woman, she regarded all her juniors with a
+matronly goodwill, none the less active that it was so exceedingly new.
+She had in those days given much good advice, which Cornish had
+respectfully heard. Fate had brought them together at the rare moment
+and in almost the sole circumstances that allow of a friendship being
+formed between a man and a woman.
+
+They walked slowly side by side now under the trees of the Oude Weg,
+inhaling the fresh morning air, which was scented by a hundred breaths
+of spring, and felt clean to face and lips. Mrs. Vansittart had no
+intention of resigning her position of mentor and friend. It was,
+moreover, one of those positions which will not bear being defined in
+so many words. Between men and women it often happens that to point out
+the existence of certain feelings is to destroy them. To say, "Be my
+friend," as often as not makes friendship impossible. Mrs. Vansittart
+was too clever a woman to run such a risk in dealing with a man in whom
+she had detected a reserve of which the rest of the world had taken no
+account. It is unwise to enter into war or friendship without seeing to
+the reserves.
+
+"Do you remember," asked Mrs. Vansittart, suddenly, "how wise we were
+when we were young? What knowledge of the world, what experience of
+life one has when all life is before one!"
+
+"Yes," admitted Cornish, guardedly.
+
+"But if I preached a great deal, I at all events did you no harm," said
+Mrs. Vansittart, with a laugh.
+
+"No."
+
+"And as to experience, well, one buys that later."
+
+"Yes; and the wise re-sell--at a profit," laughed Cornish. "It is not a
+commodity that any one cares to keep. If we cannot sell it, we offer it
+for nothing, to the young."
+
+"Who accept it, at an even lower valuation; and you and I, Mr. Tony
+Cornish, are cynics who talk cheap epigrams to hide our thoughts."
+
+They walked on for a few yards in silence. Then Tony turned in his
+quick way and looked at her. He had thin, mobile lips, which expressed
+friendship and curiosity at this moment.
+
+"What are _you_ thinking?" he asked.
+
+She turned and looked at him with grave, searching eyes, and when these
+met his it became apparent that their friendship had re-established
+itself.
+
+"Of your affairs," she answered, "and funerals."
+
+"Both lugubrious," suggested Cornish. "But I am obliged to you for so
+far honouring me."
+
+He broke off, and again walked on in silence. She glanced at him half
+angrily, and gave a quick shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"Then you will not speak," she said, opening her parasol with a snap.
+"So be it. The time has perhaps not come yet. But if I am in the humour
+when that time does come, you will find that you have no ally so strong
+as I. Ah, you may stick your chin out and look as innocent as you like!
+You are not easy in your mind, my good friend, about this precious
+Malgamite scheme. But I ask no confidences, and, _bon Dieu_! I give
+none."
+
+She broke off with a little laugh, and looked at him beneath the shade
+of her parasol. She had a hundred foreign ways of putting a whole
+wealth of meaning into a single gesture, into a movement of a parasol
+or a fan, such as women acquire, and use upon poor defenceless men, who
+must needs face the world with stolid faces and slow, dumb hands.
+
+Cornish answered the laugh readily enough. "Ah!" he said, "then I am
+accused of uneasiness of mind of preoccupation, in fact. I plead
+guilty. I made a mistake. I got up too early. It was a fine morning,
+and I was tempted to take a walk before breakfast, which we have at
+half-past nine, in a fine old British way. We have toast and a fried
+sole. Great is the English milord!"
+
+They were in Park Straat now, in sight of Mrs. Vansittart's house. And
+that lady knew that her companion was talking in order to say nothing.
+
+"We leave this morning," continued Cornish, in the same vein. "And we
+rather flatter ourselves that we have upheld the dignity of our nation
+in these benighted foreign parts."
+
+"Ah, that poor Lord Ferriby! It is so easy to laugh at him. You think
+him a fool, although--or because--he is your uncle. So do I, perhaps.
+But I always have a little distrust for the foolishness of a person
+who has once been a knave. You know your uncle's reputation--the past
+one, I mean, not the whitewash. Do not forget it." They had reached the
+corner of Oranje Straat, and Mrs. Vansittart paused on her own
+doorstep. "So you leave this morning," she said. "Remember that I am in
+The Hague, and--well, we were once friends. If I can help you, make use
+of me. You have been wonderfully discreet, my friend. And I have not.
+But discretion is not required of a woman. If there is anything to tell
+you, you shall hear from me."
+
+She held out her hand, and bade him good-bye with a semi-malicious
+laugh. Then she stood in the porch, and watched him walk quickly away.
+
+"So it is Dorothy Roden," she said to herself, with a wise nod. "A
+queer case. One of those at first sight, one may suppose."
+
+The Rodens, of whom she thought at the moment, were not only thinking,
+but speaking of her. They had finished breakfast, and Dorothy was
+standing at the window looking out over the Dunes towards the sea.
+Her brother was still seated at the table, and had lighted a cigarette.
+Like many another who offers an exaggerated respect to women as a
+whole, he was rather inclined to Bohemianism at home, and denied to
+his immediate feminine relations the privileges accorded to their sex
+in general. He was older than Dorothy, who had always been dependent
+upon him to a certain extent. She had a little money of her own, and
+quite recognized the fact that, should her brother marry, she would
+have to work for her living. In the mean time, however, it suited them
+both to live together, and Dorothy had for her brother that affection
+of which only women are capable. It amounts to an affectionate
+tolerance more than to a tolerant affection. For it perceives its
+object's little failings with a calm and judicial eye. It weighs the
+man in the balance, and finds him wanting. This, moreover, is the lot
+of a large proportion of women. This takes the place of that higher
+feeling which is probably the finest emotion of which the human heart
+is capable. And yet there are men who grudge these sufferers their
+petty triumphs, their poor little emancipation, their paltry
+wrangler-ships, their very bicycles.
+
+"You don't like this place--I know that," Percy Roden was saying, in
+continuation of a desultory conversation. He looked up from the letters
+before him with a smile which was kind enough and a little patronizing.
+Patronage is perhaps the armour of the outwitted.
+
+"Not very much," answered Dorothy, with a laugh. "But I dare say it
+will be better in the summer."
+
+"I mean this villa," pursued Roden, flicking the ash from his cigarette
+and leaning back in his chair. He had grand, rather tired gestures,
+which possibly impressed some people. Grandeur, however, like
+sentiment, is not indigenous to the hearth. Our domestic admirers are
+not always watching us.
+
+Dorothy was looking out of the window. "It is not a bad little place,"
+she said practically, "when one has grown accustomed to its sandiness."
+
+"It will not be for long," said Percy Roden.
+
+And his sister turned and looked at him with a sudden gravity.
+
+"Ah!" she said.
+
+"No; I have been thinking that it will be better for us to move into
+The Hague--Park Straat or Oranje Straat."
+
+Dorothy turned and faced him now. There was a faint, far-off
+resemblance between these two, but Dorothy had the better
+face--shrewder, more thoughtful, cleverer. Her eyes, instead of being
+large and dark and rather dreamy, were grey and speculative. Her
+features were clear-cut and well-cut--a face suggestive of feeling and
+of self-suppression, which, when they go together, go to the making of
+a satisfactory human being. This was a woman who, to put it quite
+plainly, would scarcely have been held in honour by our grandmothers,
+but who promised well enough for her possible granddaughters; who, when
+the fads are lived down and the emancipation is over and the shrieking
+is done, will make a very excellent grandmother to a race of women who
+shall be equal to men and respected of men, and, best of all, beloved
+of men. Wise mothers say that their daughters must sooner or later pass
+through an awkward age. Woman is passing through an awkward age now,
+and Dorothy Roden might be classed among those who are doing it
+gracefully.
+
+She looked at her brother with those wise grey eyes, and did not speak
+at once.
+
+"Oranje Straat and Park Straat," she said lightly, "cost money."
+
+"Oh, that is all right!" answered her brother, carelessly, as one who
+in his time has handled great sums.
+
+"Then we are prosperous?" inquired Dorothy, mindful of other great
+ schemes which had not always done their duty by their originator.
+
+"Oh yes! We shall make a good thing out of this Malgamite. The labourer
+is worthy of his hire, you know. There is no reason why we should not
+take a better house than this. Mrs. Vansittart knows of one in Park
+Straat which would suit us. Do you like her--Mrs. Vansittart, I mean?"
+
+His tone was slightly patronizing again. The Malgamite was a success,
+it appeared, and assuredly success is the most difficult emergency that
+a man has to face in life.
+
+"Very much," answered Dorothy, quietly. She looked hard at her brother;
+for Dorothy had long ago gauged him, and had recently gauged Mrs.
+Vansittart with a facility which is quite incomprehensible to men and
+easy enough to women. She knew that her brother was not the sort of man
+to arouse the faintest spark of love in the heart of such a woman as
+her of whom they spoke. And yet Percy's tone implied as clearly as if
+the words had been spoken that he had merely to offer to Mrs.
+Vansittart his hand and heart in order to make her the happiest of
+women. Either Dorothy or her brother was mistaken in Mrs. Vansittart.
+Between a man and a woman it is usually the man who is mistaken in an
+estimate of another woman. Dorothy was wondering, not whether Mrs.
+Vansittart admired her brother, but why that lady was taking the
+trouble to convey to him that such was the case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+SUBURBAN
+
+"Le bonheur c'est �tre n� joyeux."
+
+
+There are in the suburbs of London certain strata of men which lie in
+circles of diminishing density around the great city, like _debris_
+around a volcano. London indeed erupts every evening between the hours
+of five and six, and throws out showers of tired men, who lie where
+they fall--or rather where their season ticket drops them--until
+morning, when they arise and crowd back again to the seething crater.
+The deposits of small clerks and tradespeople fall near at hand in a
+dense shower, bounded on the north by Finchley, on the south by
+Streatham. An outer circle of head clerks, Government servants, junior
+partners, covers the land in a stratum reaching as far south as
+Surbiton, as far north as the Alexandra Palace. And beyond these limits
+are cast the brighter lights of commerce, law, and finance, who fall, a
+thin golden shower, in the favoured neighbourhoods of the far suburbs,
+where, from eventide till morning, they play at being country
+gentlemen, talking stock and stable, with minds attuned to share and
+produce.
+
+Mr. Joseph Wade, banker, was one of those who are thrown far afield by
+the facilities of a fine suburban train service. He wore a frock-coat,
+a very shiny hat, and he read the _Times_ in the train. He lived in a
+staring red house, solid brick without and solid comfort within, in the
+favoured pine country of Weybridge. He was one of those pillars of the
+British Constitution who are laughed at behind their backs and
+eminently respected to their faces. His gardeners trembled before him,
+his coachman, as stout and respectable as himself, knew him to be a
+just and a good master, who grudged no man his perquisites, and behaved
+with a fine gentlemanly tact at those trying moments when the departing
+visitor is desirous of tipping and the coachman knows that it is
+blessed to receive.
+
+Mr. Wade rather scorned the amateur country-gentleman hobby which so
+many of his travelling companions affected. It led them to don rough
+tweed suits on Sunday, and walk about their paddocks and gardens as if
+these formed a great estate.
+
+"I am a banker," he said, with that sound common sense which led him to
+avoid those cheap affectations of superiority that belong to the outer
+strata of the daily volcanic deposit--"I am a banker, and I am content
+to be a banker in the evening and on Sundays, as well as during
+bank-hours. What should I know about horses or Alderneys or Dorking
+fowls? None of 'em yield a dividend."
+
+Mr. Wade, in fact, looked upon "The Brambles" as a place of rest,
+arriving there at half-past six, in time to dress for a very good
+dinner. After dinner he read in a small way by no means to be despised.
+He had a taste for biography, and cherished in his stout heart a fine
+old respect for Thackeray and Dickens and Walter Scott. Of the modern
+fictionists he knew nothing.
+
+"Seems to me they are splitting straws, my dear," he once said to an
+earnest young person who thought that literature meant contemporary
+fiction, whereas we all know that the two are in no way connected.
+
+Joseph Wade was a widower, having some years before buried a wife as
+stout and sensible as himself. He never spoke of her except to his
+daughter Marguerite, now leaving school, and usually confined his
+remarks to a consideration of what Marguerite's mother would have liked
+in the circumstances under discussion at the moment.
+
+Marguerite had been educated at Cheltenham, and "finished" at Dresden,
+without any limit as to extras. She had come home from Dresden a few
+months before the Malgamite scheme was set on foot, to find herself
+regarded by her father in the light of a rather delicate financial
+crisis. The affection which had always existed between father and
+daughter soon developed into something stronger--something volatile and
+half mocking on her part, indulgent and half mystified on his.
+
+"She is rather a handful," wrote Mr. Wade to Tony Cornish, "and too
+inconsequent to let my mind be easy about her future. I wish you would
+run down and dine and sleep at 'The Brambles' some evening soon. Monday
+is Marguerite's eighteenth birthday. Will you come on that evening?"
+
+"He is not thirty-three yet," reflected Mr. Wade, as he folded the
+letter and slipped it into an envelope, "and she is the sort of girl
+who must be able to give a man her full respect before she can give
+him--er--anything else."
+
+From which it may be perceived that the astute banker was preparing to
+face the delicate financial crisis.
+
+Cornish received the invitation the day after returning from Holland.
+Mr. Wade had been his father's friend and trustee, and was, he
+understood, distantly related to the mother whom Tony had never known.
+Such invitations were not infrequent, and it was the recipient's custom
+to set aside others in order to reply with an acceptance. A friendship
+had sprung up between two men who were not only divided by a gulf of
+years, but had hardly a thought in common.
+
+On arriving at Weybridge station, Cornish found Marguerite awaiting his
+arrival in a very high dog-cart drawn by an exceedingly shiny cob,
+which animal she proceeded to handle with vast spirit and a blithe
+ignorance. She looked trim and fresh, with bright brown hair under a
+smart sailor hat, and a complexion almost dazzling in its youthfulness
+and brilliancy. She nodded gaily at Cornish.
+
+"Hop up," she said encouragingly, "and then hang on like grim death.
+There are going to be--whoa, my pet!--er--ructions. All right, William.
+Let go."
+
+William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob
+squeaked, stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then
+dashed across the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to
+observe a bank of stones at one side of the road.
+
+"Do you mind this sort of thing?" inquired Marguerite, as they bumped
+heavily over the obstruction.
+
+"Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it." Marguerite
+arranged the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle
+across her companion's vision.
+
+"I'm learning to drive, you know," she said, leaning confidently down
+from her high seat. "And papa thinks that because this young gentleman
+is rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady!
+Keep off the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to--Well, I'm"--she
+hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to
+the road again--"blowed," she added, religiously completing her
+unfinished sentence.
+
+They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more
+steadily.
+
+"I am very glad you have come, you know," Marguerite took the
+opportunity of assuring the visitor. "It is jolly slow, I can tell you,
+at times; and then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to
+manage. It took me a week to get this pony out of him. His great idea
+is for somebody to marry me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that
+has to be placed or sunk or something, somewhere. There was a young
+Scotchman here the week before last. I have forgotten his name already.
+John--something--Fairly. Yes, that is it--John Fairly, of
+Auchen-something. It is better to be John Fairly, of Auchen-something,
+than a belted earl, it appears."
+
+"Did John tell you so himself?" inquired Tony.
+
+"Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on
+my guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice
+and sheer off."
+
+"I will," said Tony.
+
+"And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure
+that he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not
+speak to him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a
+Scotch accent--just a suspeecion of an accent, you know--nothing to get
+hold of, but just enough to let him know that his Auchen-something
+would not go down with me."
+
+She spoke with a sort of inconsequent earnestness, a relic of the
+school-days she had so lately left behind. She did not seem to have had
+time to decide yet whether life was a rattling farce or a matter of
+deadly earnest. And who shall blame her, remembering that older heads
+than hers are no clearer on that point?
+
+On approaching the red villa by its short entrance drive of yellow
+gravel, they perceived Mr. Wade slowly walking in his garden. The
+garden of "The Brambles" was exactly the sort of garden one would
+expect to find attached to a house of that name. It was chiefly
+conspicuous for its lack of brambles, or indeed of any vegetable of
+such disorderly habit. Yellow gravel walks intersected smooth lawns.
+April having drawn almost to its close, there were thin red lines of
+tulips standing at attention all along the flowery borders. Not a stalk
+was out of place. One suspected that the flowers had been drilled by a
+martinet of a gardener. The sight of an honest weed would have been a
+relief to the eye. The curse of too much gardener and too little nature
+lay over the land.
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Wade, holding out a large white hand. "You perceive me
+inspecting the garden, and if you glance in the direction of
+McPherson's cottage you will perceive McPherson watching me. I pay him
+a hundred and twenty and he knows that it is too much."
+
+"By the way, papa," put in Marguerite, gravely, "will you tell
+McPherson that he will receive a month's notice if he counts the
+peaches this summer, as he did last year?"
+
+Mr. Wade laughed, and promised her a freer hand in this matter. They
+walked in the trim garden until it was time to dress for dinner, and
+Cornish saw enough to convince him that Mr. Wade was fully occupied
+between banking hours in his capacity as Marguerite's father.
+
+That young lady came down as the bell rang, in a white dress as fresh
+and girlish as herself, and during the meal, which was long and
+somewhat solemn, entertained the guest with considerable liveliness. It
+was only after she had left them to their wine, over which the banker
+loved to linger in the old-fashioned way that Mr. Wade put on his grave
+financial air. He fingered his glass thoughtfully, as if choosing, not
+a subject of conversation, but a suitable way of approaching a
+premeditated question.
+
+"You do not recollect your mother?" he said suddenly.
+
+"No; she died when I was two years old."
+
+Mr. Wade nodded, and slowly sipped his port. "Queer thing is," he said,
+after a pause and looking towards the door, "that that child is
+startlingly like what your mother used to be at the age of eighteen,
+when I first knew her. Perhaps it is only my imagination--not that I
+have much of that. Perhaps all girls are alike at that age--a sort of
+freshness and an optimism that positively take one's breath away. At
+any rate, she reminds me of your mother." He broke off, and looked at
+Cornish with his slow and rather ponderous smile. His attitude towards
+the world was indeed one of conscious ponderosity. He did not attempt
+to understand the lighter side of life, but took it seriously as a
+work-a-day matter. "I was once in love with your mother," he stated
+squarely. "But circumstances were against us. You see, your father was
+a lord's younger brother, and that made a great difference in Clapham
+in those days. I felt it a good deal at the time, but I of course got
+over it years and years ago. No sentiment about me, Tony. Sentiment and
+seventeen stone won't balance, you know." The great man slowly drew the
+decanter towards him. "She got a better husband in your father--a
+clever, bright chap--and I was best man, I recollect. It was about that
+time--about your age I was--that I took seriously to my work. Before, I
+had been a little wild. And that interest has lasted me right up to the
+present time. Take my word for it, Tony, the greatest interest in life
+would be money-making--if one only knew what to do with the money
+afterwards." The banker had been eating a biscuit, and he now swept the
+crumbs together with his little finger from all sides in a lessening
+circle until they formed a heap upon the white tablecloth. "It
+accumulates," he said slowly, "accumulates, accumulates. And, after
+all, one can only eat and drink the best that are to be obtained, and
+the best costs so little--a mere drop in the ocean." He handed Tony
+the decanter as he spoke. "Then I married Marguerite's mother, some
+years afterwards, when I was a middle-aged man. She was the only
+daughter of--the bank, you know."
+
+And that seemed to be all that there was to be said about Marguerite's
+mother.
+
+Tony Cornish nodded in his quick, sympathetic way. Mr. Wade had told
+him none of this before, but it was to be presumed that he had heard at
+least part of it from other sources. His manner now indicated that he
+was interested, but he did not ask his companion to say one word more
+than he felt disposed to utter. It is probable that he knew these to be
+no idle after-dinner words, spoken without premeditation, out of a full
+heart; for Mr. Wade was not, as he had boasted, a person of sentiment,
+but a plain, straightforward business man, who, if he had no meaning to
+convey, said nothing. And in this respect it is a pity that more are
+not like him.
+
+"We have always been pretty good friends, you and I," continued the
+banker, "though I know I am not exactly your sort. I am distinctly
+City; you are as distinctly West End. But during your minority, and
+when we settled up accounts on your coming of age, and since then, we
+have always hit it off pretty well."
+
+"Yes," said Cornish, moving his feet impatiently under the table.
+
+There was no mistaking the aim of all this, and Mr. Wade was too
+British in his habits to beat about the bush much longer.
+
+"I do not mind telling you that I have got you down in my will," said
+the banker.
+
+Cornish bit his lip and frowned at his wine-glass. And it is possible
+that the man of no sentiment understood his silence.
+
+"I have frequently disbelieved what I have heard of you," went on the
+elder man. "You have, doubtless, enemies--as all men have--and you have
+been a trifle reckless, perhaps, of what the world might say. If you
+will allow me to say so, I think none the worse of you for that."
+
+Mr. Wade pushed the decanter across the table, and when Cornish had
+filled his glass, drew it back towards himself. It is wonderful what
+resource there is in half a glass of wine, if merely to examine it when
+it is hard to look elsewhere.
+
+"You remember, six months ago, I spoke to you of a personal matter,"
+said the banker. "I asked you if you had thoughts of marrying, and
+suggested something in the nature of a partnership if that would
+facilitate your plans in any way."
+
+"That is not the sort of offer one is likely to forget," answered
+Cornish.
+
+"I asked you if--well, if it was Joan Ferriby."
+
+
+"Yes. And I answered that it was not Joan Ferriby. That was mere
+gossip, of which we are both aware, and for which neither of us cares
+a pin."
+
+"Then it comes to this," said Mr. Wade, drawing lines on the tablecloth
+with his dessert knife as if it were a balance-sheet, and he was
+casting the final totals there. "You are a man of the world; you are
+clever; you are like your father before you, in that you have something
+that women care about. Heaven only knows what it is, for I don't!" He
+paused, and looked at his companion as if seeking that intangible
+something. Then he jerked his head towards the drawing-room, where
+Marguerite could be dimly heard playing an air from the latest comic
+opera with a fine contempt for accidentals. "That child," he said,
+"knows no more about life than a sparrow. A man like myself--seventeen
+stone--may have to balance his books at any moment. You have a clear
+field; for you may take my word for it that you will be the first in
+it. My own experience of life has been mostly financial, but I am
+pretty certain that the first man a woman cares for is the man she
+cares for all along, though she may never see him again. I don't hold
+it out as an inducement, but there is no reason why you should not know
+that she will have a hundred and fifty thousand pounds--not when I am
+dead, but on the day she marries." Mr. Wade paused, and took a sip of
+his most excellent port. "Do not hurry," he said. "Take your time.
+Think about it carefully--unless you have already thought about it, and
+can say yes or no now."
+
+"I can do that."
+
+Mr. Wade bent forward heavily, with one arm on the table.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Which is it?"
+
+"It is no," answered Cornish, simply. The banker passed his
+table-napkin across his lips, paused for a moment, and then rose with,
+as was his hospitable custom, his hand upon the sherry decanter. "Then
+let us go into the drawing-room," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE MAKING OF A MAN.
+
+"Heureux celui qui n'est forc�e de sacrifier personne � son devoir."
+
+
+"You know," said Marguerite the next morning, as she and Cornish rode
+quietly along the sandy roads, beneath the shade of the pines--"you
+know, papa is such a jolly, simple old dear--he doesn't understand
+women in the least."
+
+"And do you call yourself a woman nowadays?" inquired Cornish.
+
+"You bet. Bet those grey hairs of yours if you like.
+I see them! All down one side."
+
+"They are all down both sides and on the top as well--my good--woman.
+How does your father fail to understand you?"
+
+"Well, to begin with, he thinks it necessary to have Miss Williams, to
+housekeep and chaperon, and to do oddments generally--as if I couldn't
+run the show myself. You haven't seen Miss Williams--oh, crikey!
+She has gone to Cheltenham for a holiday, for which you may thank your
+eternal stars. She is just the sort of person who _would_ go to
+Cheltenham. Then papa is desperately keen about my marrying. He keeps
+trotting likely _partis_ down here to dine and sleep--that's why you
+are here, I haven't a shadow of a doubt. None of the _partis_ have
+passed muster yet. Poor old thing, he thinks I do not see through his
+little schemes."
+
+Cornish laughed, and glanced at Marguerite under the shade of his straw
+hat, wondering, as men have probably wondered since the ages began, how
+it is that women seem to begin life with as great a knowledge of the
+world as we manage to acquire towards the end of our experience.
+Marguerite made her statements with a certain careless _aplomb_, and
+these were usually within measurable distance of the fact, whereas a
+youth her age and ten years older, if he be of a didactic turn, will
+hold forth upon life and human nature with an ignorance of both which
+is positively appalling.
+
+"Now, I don't want to marry," said Marguerite, suddenly returning to
+her younger and more earnest manner. "What is the good of marrying?"
+
+"What, indeed," echoed Cornish.
+
+"Well, then, if papa tackles you--about me, I mean--when he has done
+the _Times_--he won't say anything before, the _Times_ being the first
+object in papa's existence, and yours very truly the second--just you
+choke him off--won't you?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Promise?"
+
+"Promise faithfully."
+
+"That's all right. Now tell me--is my hat on one side?"
+
+
+Cornish assured her that her hat was straight, and then they talked of
+other things, until they came to a ditch suitable for some jumping
+lessons, which he had promised to give her.
+
+She was bewilderingly changeable, at one moment childlike, and in the
+next very wise--now a heedless girl, and a moment later a keen woman of
+the world--appearing to know more of that abode of evil than she well
+could. Her colour came and went--her very eyes seemed to change.
+Cornish thought of this open field which Marguerite's father had
+offered, and perhaps he thought of the hundred and fifty thousand
+pounds that lay beneath so bright a surface.
+
+On returning to "The Brambles," they found Mr. Wade reading the _Times_
+in the glass-covered veranda of that eligible suburban mansion. It
+being a Saturday, the great banker was taking a holiday, and Cornish
+had arranged not to return to town until midday.
+
+"Come here," shouted Mr. Wade, "and have a cigar while you read the
+paper."
+
+"And remember," added Marguerite, slim and girlish in her riding-habit;
+"choke him off!"
+
+She stood on the door-step, looking over her shoulder, and nodded at
+Cornish, her fresh lips tilted at the corner by a smile full of gaiety
+and mysticism.
+
+"Read that," said Mr. Wade, gravely.
+
+But Mr. Wade was always grave--was clad in gravity and a frock-coat all
+his waking moments--and Cornish took up the newspaper carelessly. He
+stretched out his legs and lighted a cigar. Then he leisurely turned to
+the column indicated by his companion. It was headed, "Crisis in the
+Paper Trade: the Malgamite Corner."
+
+And Tony Cornish did not raise his eyes from the printed sheet for a
+full ten minutes. When at length he looked up, he found Mr. Wade
+watching him, placid and patient.
+
+"Can't make head or tail of it," he said, with a laugh.
+
+"I will make both head and tail of it for you," said Mr. Wade, who in
+his own world had a certain reputation for plain speaking.
+
+It was even said that this stout banker could tell a man to his face
+that he was a scoundrel with a cooler nerve than any in Lombard Street.
+
+"What has occurred," he said, slowly folding the advertisement sheet of
+the _Times_, "is only what has been foreseen for a long time. The world
+has been degenerating into a maudlin state of sentiment for some years.
+The East End began it; a thousand sentimental charities have fostered
+the movement. Now, I am a plain man--a City man, Tony, to the tips of
+my toes." And he stuck out a large square-toed foot and looked
+contemplatively at it. "Half of your precious charities--the societies
+that you and Joan Ferriby, and, if you will allow me to say so, that
+ass Ferriby, are mixed up in--are not fraudulent, but they are pretty
+near it. Some people who have no right to it are putting other people's
+money into their pockets. It is the money of fools--a fool and his
+money are soon parted, you know--but that does not make matters any
+better. The fools do not always part with their money for the right
+reason; but that also is of small importance. It is not our business if
+some of them do it because they like to see their names printed under
+the names of the royal and the great--if others do it for the mere
+satisfaction of being life--governors of this and that institution--if
+others, again, head the county lists because they represent a part of
+that county in Parliament--if the large majority give of their surplus
+to charities because they are dimly aware that they are no better than
+they should be, and wish to take shares in a concern that will pay a
+dividend in the hereafter. They know that they cannot take their money
+out of this world with them, so they think they had better invest some
+of it in what they vaguely understand to be a great limited company,
+with the bishops on the board and--I say it with all reverence--the
+Almighty in the chair. I would not say this to the first-comer because
+it would not be well received, and it is not fashionable to treat
+Charity from a common-sense point of view. It is fashionable to send a
+cheque to this and that charity--feeling that it is charity, and
+therefore will be all right, and that the cheque will be duly placed on
+the credit side of the drawer's account in the heavenly books, however
+it may be foolishly spent or fraudulently appropriated by the payee on
+earth. Half a dozen of the fashionable charities are rotten, but we
+have not had a thorough-going swindle up to this time. We have been
+waiting for it ... in Lombard Street. It is there...."
+
+He paused, and tapped the printed column of the _Times_ with a fat and
+inexorable forefinger. He was, it must be remembered, a mere banker--a
+person in the City, where honesty is esteemed above the finer qualities
+of charity and beneficence, where soul and sentiment are so little
+known that he who of his charity giveth away another's money is held
+accountable for his manner of spending it.
+
+"It is there, ... and you have the honour of being mixed up in it,"
+said Mr. Wade.
+
+Cornish took up the paper, and looked at the printed words with a vague
+surprise.
+
+"There is no knowing," went on the banker, "how the world will take it.
+It is one of our greatest financial difficulties that there is never
+any knowing how the world will take anything. Of course, we in the City
+are plain-going men, who have no handles to our names and no time for
+the fashionable fads. We are only respectable, and we cannot afford to
+be mixed up in such a scheme as your malgamite business." Mr. Wade
+glanced at Cornish and paused a moment. He was a stolid Englishman, who
+had received punishment in his time, and could hit hard when he deemed
+that hard hitting was merciful. "It has only been a question of time.
+The credulity of the public is such that, sooner or later, a bogus
+charity must assuredly have followed in the wake of the thousand bogus
+companies that exist to-day. I only wonder that it has not come sooner.
+You and Ferriby and, of course, the women have been swindled, my dear
+Tony--that is the head and the tail of it."
+
+Cornish laughed gaily. "I dare say we have," he admitted. "But I will
+be hanged if I see what it all means, now."
+
+"It may mean ruin to those who have anything to lose," explained Mr.
+Wade, calmly. "The whole thing has been cleverly planned--one of the
+cleverest things of recent years, and the man who thought it out had
+the makings of a great financier in him. What he wanted to do was to
+get the malgamite industry into his own hands. If he had formed a
+company and gone about it in a straightforward manner, the paper-makers
+of the whole world would have risen like one man and smashed him.
+Instead of that, he moved with the times, and ran the thing as a
+charity--a fashionable amusement, in fact. The malgamite industry is
+neither better nor worse than the other dangerous trades, and no man
+need go into it unless he likes. But the man who started this
+thing--whoever he may be--supplied that picturesqueness without which
+the public cannot be moved--and lo! We have an army of martyrs."
+
+Mr. Wade paused and jerked the ash from his cigar. He glanced at
+Cornish.
+
+"No one suspected that there was anything wrong. It was plausibly put
+forth, and Ferriby ... did his best for it. Then the money began to
+come in, and once money begins to come in for a popular charity the
+difficulty is to stop it. I suppose it is still coming in?"
+
+"Yes," said Cornish. "It is still coming in, and nobody is trying to
+stop it."
+
+Mr. Wade laughed in his throat, as fat men do. "And," he cried, sitting
+upright and banging his heavy fist down on the arm of his chair--"and
+there are millions in your malgamite works at the Hague--millions. If
+it were only honest it would be the finest monopoly the world has ever
+seen--for two years, but no longer. At the end of that period the
+paper-makers will have had time to combine and make their own
+stuff--then they'll smash you. But during those two years all the
+makers in the world will have to buy your malgamite at the price you
+chose to put upon it. They have their forward contracts to
+fulfil--government contracts, Indian contracts, newspaper contracts.
+Thousands and thousands of tons of paper will have to be manufactured
+at a loss every week during the next two years, or they'll have to shut
+up their mills. Now do you see where you are?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, "I see where I am, now."
+
+His face was drawn and his eyes hard, like those of a man facing ruin.
+And that which was written on his face was an old story, so old that
+some may not think it worth the telling; for he had found out (as all
+who are fortunate will, sooner or later, discover) that success or
+failure, riches or poverty, greatness or obscurity, are but small
+things in a man's life. Mr. Wade looked at his companion with a sort of
+wonder in his shrewd old face. He had seen ruined men before now--he
+had seen criminals convicted of their wrong-doing--he had seen old and
+young in adversity, and, what is more dangerous still, in
+prosperity--but he had never seen a young face grow old in the
+twinkling of an eye. The banker was only thinking of this matter as a
+financial crisis, in which his great skill made him take a master's
+delight. There must inevitably come a great crash, and Mr. Wade's
+interest was aroused. Cornish was realizing that the crash would of a
+certainty fall between himself and Dorothy.
+
+"This thing," continued the banker, judicially, "has not evolved
+itself. It is not the result of a singular chain of circumstances. It
+is the deliberate and careful work of one man's brain. This sort of
+speculative gambling comes to us from America. It was in America that
+the first cotton corner was conceived. That is what the paper means
+when it plainly calls it the malgamite corner. Now, what I want to know
+is this--who has worked this thing?"
+
+"Percy Roden," answered Cornish, thoughtfully. "It is Roden's corner."
+
+"Then Roden's a clever fellow," said the great financier. "The sort of
+man who will die a millionaire or a felon--there is no medium for that
+sort. He has conducted the thing with consummate skill--has not made a
+mistake yet. For I have watched him. He began well, by saying just
+enough and not too much. He went abroad, but not too far abroad. He
+avoided a suspicious remoteness. Then he bided his time with a fine
+patience, and at the right moment converted it quietly into a
+company--with a capital subscribed by the charitable--a splendid piece
+of audacity. I saw the announcement in the newspaper, neatly worded,
+and issued at the precise moment when the public interest was beginning
+to wane, and before the thing was forgotten. People read it, and having
+found a new plaything--bicycles, I suppose--did not care two pins what
+became of the malgamite scheme, and yet they were not left in a
+position to be able to say that they had never heard that the thing had
+been turned into a company." The banker rubbed his large soft hands
+together with a grim appreciation of this misapplied skill, which so
+few could recognize at its full value.
+
+"But," he continued, in his deliberate, practical way, as if in the
+course of his experience he had never yet met a difficulty which could
+not be overcome, "it is more our concern to think about the future. The
+difficulty you are in would be bad enough in itself--it is made a
+hundred times worse by the fact that you have a man like Roden, with
+all the trumps in his hand, waiting for you to throw the first card. Of
+course, I know no details yet, but I soon shall. What seems complicated
+to you may appear simple enough to me. I am going to stand by
+you--understand that, Tony. Through thick and thin. But I am going to
+stand behind you. I can hit harder from there. And this is just one of
+those affairs with which my name must not be associated.
+So far as I can judge at present, there seems to be only one course
+open to you, and that is to abandon the whole affair as quietly and
+expeditiously as possible, to drop malgamite and the hope of benefiting
+the malgamite workers once and for all."
+
+Tony was looking at his watch. It was, it appeared, time for him to go
+if he wanted to catch his train.
+
+"No," he said, rising; "I will be d----d if I do that."
+
+Mr. Wade looked at him curiously, as one may look at a sleeper who for
+no apparent reason suddenly wakes and stretches himself.
+
+"Ah!" he said slowly, and that was all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+UNSOUND.
+
+"Be wiser than other people if you can; but do not tell them so."
+
+
+If Major White was not a man of quick comprehension, he was, at all
+events, honest in his density. He never said that he understood when he
+did not do so. When he received a telegram in barracks at Dover to come
+up to London the next day and meet Cornish at his club at one o'clock,
+the major merely said that he was in a state of condemnation, and
+fixing his glass very carefully into his more surprised eye, studied
+the thin pink paper as if it were a unique and interesting proof of the
+advance of the human race. In truth, Major White never sent telegrams,
+and rarely received them. He blew out his cheeks and said a second time
+that he was damned. Then he threw the telegram into a waste-paper
+basket, which was rarely put to so legitimate a use; for the major
+never wrote letters if he could help it, and received so few that they
+hardly kept him supplied in pipe-lights.
+
+He apparently had no intention of replying to Cornish's telegram,
+arguing very philosophically in his mind that he would go if he could,
+and if he could not, it would not matter very much. A method of
+contemplating life, as a picture with a perspective to it, which may be
+highly recommended to fussy people who herald their paltry little
+comings and goings by a number of unnecessary communications.
+
+Without, therefore, attempting a surmise as to the meaning of this
+summons, White took a morning train to London, and solemnly reported
+himself to the hall porter of a club in St. James's Street as the
+well-dressed throng was leisurely returning from church.
+
+"Mr. Cornish told me to come and have lunch with him," he said, in his
+usual bald style, leaving explanations and superfluous questions to
+such as had time for luxuries of that description.
+
+He was taken charge of by a button-boy, whose head reached the major's
+lowest waistcoat button, was deprived of his hat and stick, and
+practically commanded to wash his hands, to all of which he submitted
+under stolid and silent protest.
+
+Then he was led upstairs, refusing absolutely to hurry, although urged
+most strongly thereto by the boy's example and manner of pausing a few
+steps higher up and looking back.
+
+"Yes," said the major, when he had heard Cornish's story across the
+table, and during the consumption of a perfectly astonishing
+luncheon--"yes; half the trouble in this world comes from the
+incapacity of the ordinary human being to mind his own business." He
+operated on a creaming Camembert cheese with much thoughtfulness, and
+then spoke again. "I should like you to tell me," he said, "what a
+couple of idiots like us have to do with these confounded malgamiters.
+We do not know anything about industry or workmen--or work, so far as
+that goes"--he paused and looked severely across the table--"especially
+you," he added.
+
+Which was strictly true; for Tony Cornish was and always had been a
+graceful idler. He was one of those unfortunate men who possess
+influential relatives, than which there are few heavier handicaps in
+that game of life, where if there be any real scoring to be done, it
+must be compassed off one's own bat. To follow out the same inexpensive
+simile, influential relatives may get a man into a crack club, but they
+cannot elect him to the first eleven. So Tony Cornish, who had never
+done anything, but had waited vaguely for something to turn up that
+might be worth his while to seize, had no answer ready, and only
+laughed gaily in his friend's face.
+
+"The first thing we must do," he said, very wisely leaving the past to
+take care of itself, "is to get old Ferriby out of it."
+
+"'Cos he is a lord?"
+
+"Partly."
+
+"'Cos he is an ass?" suggested White, as a plausible alternative.
+
+"Partly; but chiefly because he is not the sort of man we want if there
+is going to be a fight."
+
+A momentary light gleamed in the major's eye, but it immediately gave
+place to a placid interest in the Camembert.
+
+"If there is going to be a fight," he said, "I'm on."
+
+In which trivial remark the major explained his whole life and mental
+attitude. And if the world only listened, instead of thinking what
+effect it is creating and what it is going to say next, it would catch
+men thus giving themselves away in their daily talk from morning till
+night. For Major White had always been "on" when there was fighting. By
+dint of exchanging and volunteering and asking, and generally bothering
+people in a thick-skinned, dull way, he always managed to get to the
+front, where his competitors--the handful of modern knights-errant who
+mean to make a career in the army, and inevitably succeed--were not
+afraid of him, and laughingly liked him. And the barrack-room
+balladists had discovered that White rhymes with Fight. And lo! Another
+man had made a name for himself in a world that is already too full of
+names, so that in the paths of Fame the great must necessarily fall
+against each other.
+
+After luncheon, in the smaller smoking-room, where they were alone,
+Cornish explained the situation at greater length to Major White, who
+did not even pretend to understand it.
+
+"All I can make of it is that that loose-shouldered chap Roden is a
+scoundrel," he said bluntly, from behind a great cigar, "and wants
+thumping. Now, if there's anything in that line--"
+
+"No; but you must not tell him so," interrupted Cornish. "I wish to
+goodness I could make you understand that cunning can only be met by
+cunning, not by thumps, in these degenerate days. Old Wade has taken us
+by the hand, as I tell you. They come to town, by the way, to-morrow,
+and will be in Eaton Square for the rest of the season. He says that it
+is his business to meet the low cunning of the small solicitors and the
+noble army of company promoters, and it seems that he knows exactly
+what to do. At any rate, it is not expedient to thump Roden."
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders with much silent wisdom. He
+believed, it appeared, in thumps in face of any evidence in favour of
+milder methods.
+
+"Deuced sorry for that girl," he said.
+
+Cornish was lighting a cigarette. "What girl?" he asked quietly.
+
+"Miss Roden, chap's sister. She knows her brother is a dark horse, but
+she wouldn't admit it, not if you were to kill her for it. Women"--the
+major paused in his great wisdom--"women are a rum lot."
+
+Which, assuredly, no one is prepared to deny.
+
+Cornish glanced at his companion through the cigarette smoke, and said
+nothing.
+
+"However," continued the major, "I am at your service. Let us have the
+orders."
+
+"To-morrow," answered Cornish, "is Monday, and therefore the Ferribys
+will be at home. You and I are to go to Cambridge Terrace about four
+o'clock to see my uncle. We will scare him out of the Malgamite
+business. Then we will go upstairs and settle matters with Joan. Wade
+and Marguerite will drop in about half-past four. Joan and Marguerite
+see a good deal of each other, you know. If we have any difficulty with
+my uncle, Wade will give him the _coup de gr�ce_, you understand. His
+word will have more weight than ours We shall then settle on a plan of
+campaign, and clear out of my aunt's drawing-room before the crowd
+comes."
+
+"And you will do the talking," stipulated Major White.
+
+"Oh yes; I will do the talking. And now I must be off. I have a lot of
+calls to pay, and it is getting late. You will find me here to-morrow
+afternoon at a quarter to four."
+
+Whereupon Major White took his departure, to appear again the next day
+in good time, placid and debonair--as he had appeared when called upon
+in various parts of the world, where things were stirring.
+
+They took a hansom, for the afternoon was showery, and drove through
+the crowded streets. Even Cambridge Terrace, usually a quiet
+thoroughfare, was astir with traffic, for it was the height of the
+season and a levee day. As the cab swung round into Cambridge Terrace,
+White suddenly pushed his stick up through the trap-door in the roof of
+the vehicle.
+
+"Ninety-nine," he shouted to the driver in his great voice. "Not nine."
+
+Then he threw himself back against the dingy blue cushions.
+
+Cornish turned and looked at him in surprise. "Gone off your head?" he
+inquired. "It is nine--you know that well enough."
+
+"Yes," answered White, "I know that, my good soul; but you could not
+see the door as I could when we came round the corner. Roden and Von
+Holzen are on the steps, coming out."
+
+"Roden and Von Holzen in England?"
+
+
+"Not only in England," said White, placidly, "but in Cambridge Terrace.
+And "--he paused, seeking a suitable remark among his small selection
+of conversational remnants--"and the fat is in the fire."
+
+The cab had now stopped at the door of number ninety-nine. And if Roden
+or Von Holzen, walking leisurely down Cambridge Terrace, had turned
+during the next few moments, they would have seen a stationary hansom
+cab, with a large round face--mildly surprised, like a pink harvest
+moon--rising cautiously over the roof of it, watching them.
+
+When the coast was clear, Cornish and White walked back to number nine.
+Lord Ferriby was at home, and they were ushered into his study, an
+apartment which, like many other things appertaining to his lordship,
+was calculated to convey an erroneous impression. There were books upon
+the tables--the lives of great and good men. Pamphlets relating to
+charitable matters, missionary matters, and a thousand schemes for the
+amelioration of the human lot here and hereafter, lay about in
+profusion. This was obviously the den of a great philanthropist.
+
+His lordship presently appeared, carrying a number of voting papers,
+which he threw carelessly on the table. He was, it seemed, a subscriber
+to many institutions for the blind, the maimed, and the halt.
+
+"Ah!" he said, "I generally get through my work in the morning, but I
+find myself behindhand to-day. It is wonderful," he added, directing
+his conversation and his benevolent gaze towards White, "how busy an
+idle man may be."
+
+
+
+"M--m--yes!" answered the major, with his stolid stare.
+
+Cornish broke what threatened to be an awkward silence by referring at
+once to the subject in hand.
+
+"It seems," he began, "that this Malgamite scheme is not what we took
+it to be."
+
+Lord Ferriby looked surprised and slightly scandalized. Could it be
+possible for a fashionable charity to be anything but what it appeared
+to be? In his eyes, wandering from one face to the other, there lurked
+the question as to whether they had seen Roden and Von Holzen quit his
+door a minute earlier. But no reference was made to those two
+gentlemen, and Lord Ferriby, who, as a chairman of many boards, was a
+master of the art of conciliation and the decent closing of both eyes
+to unsightly facts, received Cornish's suggestion with a polite and
+avuncular pooh-pooh.
+
+"We must not," he said soothingly, "allow our judgment to be hastily
+affected by the ill-considered statements of the--er--newspapers. Such
+statements, my dear Anthony--and you, Major White--are, I may tell you,
+only what we, as the pioneers of a great movement, must be prepared to
+expect. I saw the article in the _Times_ to which you refer--indeed, I
+read it most carefully, as, in my capacity of chairman of
+this--eh--char--that is to say, company, I was called upon to do. And I
+formed the opinion that the mind of the writer was--eh--warped." Lord
+Ferriby smiled sadly, and gave a final wave of the hand, as if to
+indicate that the whole matter lay in a nutshell, and that nutshell
+under his lordship's heel. "Warped or not," answered Cornish, "the man
+says that we have formed ourselves into a company, which company is
+bound to make huge profits, and those profits are naturally assumed to
+find their way into our pockets."
+
+"My dear Anthony," replied the chairman, with a laugh which was almost
+a cackle, "the labourer is worthy of his hire."
+
+Which seems likely to become the _dernier cri_ of the overpaid
+throughout all the ages.
+
+"Even if we contradict the statement," pursued Cornish, with a sudden
+coldness in his manner, "the contradiction will probably fail to reach
+many of the readers of this article, and as matters at present stand,
+I do not see that we are in a position to contradict."
+
+"My dear Anthony," answered Lord Ferriby, turning over his papers with
+a preoccupied air, as if the question under discussion only called for
+a small share of his attention--"my dear Anthony, the money was
+subscribed for the amelioration of the lot of the malgamite workers. We
+have not only ameliorated their lot, but we have elevated them morally
+and physically. We have far exceeded our promises, and the subscribers,
+ who, after all, take a small interest in the matter, have every reason
+to be satisfied that their money has been applied to the purpose for
+which they intended it. They were kind enough to intrust us with the
+financial arrangements. The concern is a private one, and it is the
+business of no one--not even of the _Times_--to inquire into the method
+which we think well to adopt for the administration of the Malgamite
+Fund. If the subscribers had no confidence in us, they surely would not
+have given the management unreservedly into our hands." Lord Ferriby
+spread out the limbs in question with an easy laugh. Has not a greater
+than any of us said that a man "may smile, and smile, and be a
+villain"? A silence followed, which was almost, but not quite, broken
+by the major, who took his glass from his eye, examined it very
+carefully, as if wondering how it had been made, and, replacing it with
+a deep sigh, sat staring at the opposite wall.
+
+"Then you are not disposed to withdraw your name from the concern?"
+asked Cornish.
+
+"Most certainly not, my dear Anthony. What have the malgamiters done
+that I should, so to speak, abandon them at the first difficulty which
+has presented itself?"
+
+"And what about the profits?" inquired Cornish, bluntly.
+
+"Mr. Roden is our paid secretary. He understands the financial
+situation, which is rather a complicated one. We may, I think, leave
+such details to him. And if I may suggest it (I may perhaps rightly lay
+claim to a somewhat larger experience in charitable finances than
+either of you), I should recommend a strict reticence on this matter.
+We are not called upon to answer idle questions, I think. And
+if--well--if the labourer is found worthy of his hire ... buy yourself
+a new hat, my dear Anthony. Buy yourself a new hat."
+
+Cornish rose, and looked at his watch. "I wonder if Joan will give us a
+cup of tea," he said. "We might, at all events, go up and try."
+
+"Certainly--certainly. And I will follow when I have finished my work.
+And do not give the matter another thought--either of you--eh!"
+
+"He's been got at," said Major White to his companion as they walked
+upstairs together, as if Lord Ferriby were a jockey or some common
+person of that sort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+"Il est rare que la t�te des rois soit faite � la mesure de leur
+couronne."
+
+
+"What I want is something to eat," Miss Marguerite Wade confided in an
+undertone to Tony Cornish, a few minutes later in Lady Ferriby's
+drawing-room. She said this with a little glance of amusement, as
+Cornish stood before her with two plates of biscuits, which certainly
+did not promise much sustenance.
+
+"Then," answered Cornish, "you have come to the wrong house."
+
+Marguerite kept him waiting while she arranged biscuits in her saucer.
+He set the plates aside, and returned to her in answer to her tacit
+order, conveyed by laying one hand on a vacant chair by her side.
+Marguerite was in the midst of that brief period of a woman's life
+wherein she dares to state quite clearly what she wants.
+
+"Why don't you marry Joan?" she asked, eating a biscuit with a fine
+young optimism, which almost implied that things sometimes taste as
+nice as they look.
+
+"Why don't you marry Major White?" retorted Tony; and Marguerite turned
+and looked at him gravely.
+
+"For a man," she said, "that wasn't so dusty. So few men have any eyes
+in their head, you know." And she thoughtfully finished the biscuits.
+"I think I'll go back to the bread-and-butter," she said. "It's the
+last time Lady Ferriby will ask me to stay to tea, so I may as well be
+hanged for--three pence as three farthings. And I think I will be more
+careful with you in the future. For a man, you are rather sharp." And
+she looked at him doubtfully.
+
+"When you attain my age," replied Tony, "you will have arrived at the
+conclusion that the whole world is sharper than one took it to be. It
+does not do to think that the world is blind. It is better not to care
+whether it sees or not."
+
+"Women cannot afford to do that," returned Marguerite, with the
+accumulated wisdom of nearly a score of years. "Oh, hang!" she added, a
+moment later, under her breath, as she perceived Joan and Major White
+coming towards them.
+
+"I have a letter for you," said Joan, "enclosed in one I received this
+morning from Mrs. Vansittart at The Hague. She is not coming to the
+Harberdashers' Assistants' Ball, and this is, I suppose, in answer to
+the card you sent her. She explains that she did not know your
+address." And Joan looked at him with a doubting glance for a moment.
+
+Cornish took the letter, but did not ask permission to open it. He held
+it in his hand, and asked Joan a question. "Did you see Saturday's
+Times?"
+
+"Yes, of course I did," she answered earnestly; "and of course, if it
+is true you will all wash your hands of the whole affair, I suppose. I
+was talking to Mr. Wade about it. He, however, placed both sides of the
+question before me in about ten words, and left me to take my
+choice--which I am incompetent to do."
+
+"Papa doesn't understand women," put in Marguerite.
+
+"Understands money, though," retorted Major White, looking at her in
+somewhat severe astonishment, as if he had hitherto been unaware that
+she could speak.
+
+Marguerite took the rebuff with demurely closed lips, a probable
+indication that the only retort she could think of was hardly fit for
+enunciation.
+
+Then Cornish drifted out of the conversation, and presently moved away
+to the window, where he took the opportunity of opening Mrs.
+Vansittart's letter. Mr. Wade, near at hand, was explaining
+good-naturedly to Lady Ferriby that, with the best will in the world,
+five per cent, and perfect safety are not to be obtained nowadays.
+
+"MON AMI" (wrote Mrs. Vansittart in French), "I take a daily promenade
+after coffee in the Oude Weg. I sit on the bench where you sat, and
+more often than not I see the sight that you saw. I am not a
+sentimental woman, but, after all, one has a heart, and this is a
+pitiful affair. Also, I have obtained from a reliable source the
+information that the new system of manufacture is more deadly than the
+old, which I have long suspected, and which, I believe, has passed
+through your mind as well. You and I went into this thing without _le
+bon motif_; but Providence is dealing out fresh hands, and you, at all
+events, hold cards that call for careful and bold playing. My friend,
+throw your Haberdashers over the wall and act without delay."
+
+
+"E. V."
+
+She enclosed a formal refusal of the invitation to the Haberdashers'
+Assistants' Ball.
+
+Major White was not a talkative man, and towards Joan in particular his
+attitude was one of silent wonder. In preference to talking to her, he
+preferred to stand a little way off and look at her. And if, at these
+moments, the keen observer could detect any glimmer of expression on
+his face, that glimmer seemed to express abject abasement before a
+creation that could produce anything so puzzling, so interesting, so
+absolutely beautiful--as Joan.
+
+Cornish, seeing White engaged in his favourite pastime, took him by the
+arm and led him to the window.
+
+"Read that," he said, "and then burn it."
+
+"Of course," Joan was saying to Marguerite, as he joined them, "there
+are, as your father says, two sides to the question. If papa and Tony
+and Major White withdraw their names and abandon the poor malgamiters
+now, there will be no help for the miserable wretches. They will all
+drift back to the cheaper and more poisonous way of making malgamite.
+And such a thing would be a blot upon our civilization--wouldn't it,
+Tony?"
+
+Marguerite nodded an airy acquiescence. She was watching Major
+White--that great strategist--tear up Mrs. Vansittart's letter and
+throw it into the fire, with a deliberate non-concealment which was
+perhaps superior to any subterfuge. The major joined the group.
+
+
+"That is the view that I take of it," answered Tony.
+
+"And what do you say?" asked Joan, turning upon the major.
+
+"I? Oh, nothing!" replied that soldier, with perfect truthfulness.
+
+"Then what are you going to do?" asked Joan, who was practical, and,
+like many practical people, rather given to hasty action.
+
+"We are going to stick to the malgamiters," replied Tony, quietly.
+
+"Through thick and thin?" inquired Marguerite, buttoning her glove.
+
+"Yes--through thick and thin."
+
+Both girls looked at Major White, who stolidly returned their gaze, and
+appeared as usual to have no remark to offer. He was saved, indeed,
+from all effort in that direction by the advent of Lord Ferriby, who
+entered the room with more than his usual importance. He carried an
+open letter in his hand, and seemed by his manner to demand the instant
+attention of the whole party. There are some men and a few women who
+live for the multitude, and are not content with the attention of one
+or two persons only. And surely these have their reward, for the
+attention of the multitude, however pleasant it may be while it lasts,
+is singularly short-lived, and there is nothing more pitiful to watch
+than the effort to catch it when it has wandered.
+
+"Eh--er," began his lordship, and everybody paused to listen. "I have
+here a letter from our clerk at the Malgamite office in Great
+George Street. It appears that there are a number of persons
+there--paper-makers, I understand--who insist upon seeing us, and
+refuse to leave the premises until they have done so."
+
+Lord Ferriby's manner indicated quite clearly his pity for these
+persons who had proved themselves capable of such a shocking breach of
+good manners.
+
+"One hardly knows what to do," he said, not meaning, of course, that
+his words should be taken _au pied de la lettre_. His hearers, he
+obviously felt assured, knew him better than to imagine that he was
+really at a loss. "It is difficult to deal with--er--persons of this
+description. What do you propose that we should do?" he inquired,
+turning, as if by instinct, to Cornish.
+
+"Go and see them," was the reply.
+
+"But, my dear Anthony, such a crisis should be dealt with by Mr. Roden,
+whom one may regard as our--er--financial adviser."
+
+"But as Roden is not here, we must do without his assistance. Perhaps
+Mr. Wade would consent to act as our financial adviser on this
+occasion," suggested Cornish.
+
+"I'll go with you," replied the banker, "and hear what they have to
+say, if you like. But of course I can take no part in anything in the
+nature of a controversy, and my name must not be mentioned."
+
+"Incognito," suggested Lord Ferriby, with a forced laugh.
+
+"Yes--incognito," returned the banker, gravely.
+
+The major attracted general attention to himself by murmuring something
+inaudible, which he was urged to repeat.
+
+"Doocid decent of Mr. Wade," he said, a second time.
+
+And that seemed to settle the matter, for they all moved towards the
+door.
+
+"Leave the carriage for me," cried Marguerite over the banisters, as
+her father descended the stairs. "Seems to me," she added to Joan in an
+undertone, "that the Malgamite scheme is up a gum-tree."
+
+At the little office of the Malgamite Fund the directors of that
+charity found four gentlemen seated upon the chairs usually grouped
+round the table where the ball committee or the bazaar sub-committees
+held their sittings. One, who appeared to be what Lord Ferriby
+afterwards described, more in sorrow than in anger, as the ringleader,
+was a red-haired, brown-bearded Scotchman, with square shoulders and
+his head set thereon in a manner indicative of advanced radical
+opinions. The second in authority was a mild-mannered man with a pale
+face and a drooping sparse moustache. He had a gentle eye, and lips for
+ever parting in a mildly argumentative manner. The other two
+paper-makers appeared to be foreigners. "Ah'm thinking----" began the
+mild man in a long drawl; but he was promptly overpowered by his
+fellow-countryman, who nodded curtly to Mr. Wade, and said--"Lord
+Ferriby?"
+
+"No," answered the banker, calmly.
+
+"That is my name," said the chairman of the Malgamite Fund, with his
+finger in his watch-chain.
+
+The russet gentleman looked at him with a fierce blue eye.
+
+"Then, sir," he said, "we'll come to business. For it's on business
+that we've come. My friend Mr. MacHewlett, is, like myself, in charge
+of one of the biggest mills in the country; here's Mossier Delmont of
+the great mill at Clermont-Ferrand, and Mr. Meyer from Germany. My own
+name's a plain one--like myself--but an honest one; it's John Thompson."
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed, and Major White looked at John Thompson with a
+placid interest, as if he felt glad of this opportunity of meeting one
+of the Thompson family.
+
+"And we've come to ask you to be so good as to explain your position as
+regards malgamite. What are ye, anyway?"
+
+"My dear sir," began Lord Ferriby, with one hand upraised in mild
+expostulation, "let us be a little more conciliatory in our manner. We
+are, I am sure (I speak for myself and my fellow-directors, whom you
+see before you), most desirous of avoiding any unpleasantness, and we
+are ready to give you all the information in our power, when"--he
+paused, and waved a graceful hand--"when you have proved your right to
+demand such information."
+
+"Our right is that of representatives of a great trade. We four men,
+that have been deputed to see you on the matter, have at our backs no
+less than eight thousand employees--honest, hard-workin' men, whose
+bread you are taking out of their mouths. We are not afraid of the
+ordinary vicissitudes of commerce. If ye had quietly worked this
+monopoly in fair competition, we should have known how to meet ye. But
+ye come before the world as philanthropists, and ye work a great
+monopoly under the guise of doin' a good work. It was a dirty thing to
+do."
+
+Lord Ferriby shrugged his shoulders. "My dear sir," he said, "you fail
+to grasp the situation. We have given our time and attention to the
+grievances of these poor men, whose lot it has been our earnest
+endeavour to ameliorate. You are speaking, my dear sir, to men who
+represent, not eight thousand employes, but who represent something
+greater than they, namely, charity."
+
+"Ah'm thinking!" began Mr. MacHewlett, plaintively, and the very
+richness of his accents secured a breathless attention. "Damn charity,"
+he concluded, abruptly.
+
+And Major White looked upon him in solid approval, as upon a
+plain-spoken man after his own heart.
+
+"And we," said Mr. Thompson, "represent commerce, which was in the
+world before charity, and will be there after it, if charity is going
+to be handled by such as you."
+
+There was, it appeared, no possibility of pacifying these irate
+paper-makers, whose plainness of speech was positively painful to ears
+so polite as those of Lord Ferriby. A Scotchman, hard hit in his
+tenderest spot, namely, the pocket, is not a person to mince words, and
+Lord Ferriby was for the moment silenced by the stormy attack of Mr.
+Thompson, and the sly, plaintive hits of his companion. But the
+chairman of the Malgamite Fund would not give way, and only repeated
+his assurances of a desire to conciliate, which desire took the form
+only of words, and must, therefore, have been doubly annoying to angry
+men. To him who wants war there is nothing more insulting than feeble
+offers of peace. Major White expressed his readiness to fight Messrs.
+Thompson and MacHewlett at one and the same time on the landing, but
+this suggestion was not well received.
+
+Upon two of the listeners no word was lost, and Mr. Wade and Cornish
+knew that the paper-makers had right upon their side.
+
+Quite suddenly Mr. Thompson's manner changed, and he glanced towards
+the door to see that it was closed.
+
+"Then it's a matter of paying," he said to his companions. Turning
+towards Lord Ferriby, he spoke in a voice that sounded more
+contemptuous than angry. "We're plain business men," he said. "What's
+your price--you and these other gentlemen?"
+
+"I have no price," answered Cornish, meeting the angry blue eyes and
+speaking for the first time.
+
+"And mine is too high--for plain business men," added Major White, with
+a slow smile.
+
+"Seeing that you're a lord," said Thompson, addressing the chairman
+again, "I suppose it's a matter of thousands. Name your figure, and be
+done with it."
+
+Lord Ferriby took the insult in quite a different spirit to that
+displayed by his two co-directors. He was pale with anger, and
+spluttered rather incoherently. Then he took up his hat and stick and
+walked with much dignity to the door.
+
+He was followed down the stairs by the paper-makers, Mr. Thompson
+making use of language that was decidedly bespattered with "winged
+words," while Mr. MacHewlett detailed his own thoughts in a plaintive
+monotone. Lord Ferriby got rather hastily into a hansom and drove away.
+
+"There is nothing for it," said Mr. Wade to Cornish in the gay little
+office above the Ladies' Tea Association--"there is nothing for it
+but to run Roden's Corner yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+DANGER.
+
+"The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self."
+
+
+Percy Roden was possessed of that love of horses which, like sentiment,
+crops up in strange places. He had never been able to indulge this
+taste beyond the doubtful capacities of the livery-stable. He found,
+however, that at the Hague he could hire a good saddle-horse, which
+discovery was made with suspicious haste after learning the fact that
+Mrs. Vansittart occasionally indulged in the exercise that his soul
+loved.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart said that she rode because one has to take exercise,
+and riding is the laziest method of fulfilling one's obligations in
+this respect.
+
+"I don't like horsy women," she said; "and I cannot understand how my
+sex has been foolish enough to believe that any woman looks her best,
+or, indeed, anything but her worst, in the saddle."
+
+There is a period in the lives of most men when they are desirous of
+extending their knowledge of the surrounding country on horseback, on a
+bicycle, on foot, or even on their hands and knees, if such journeys
+might be accomplished in the company of a certain person. Percy Roden
+was at this period, and he soon discovered that there are tulip farms
+in the neighbourhood of The Hague. A tulip farm may serve its purpose
+as well as ever did a ruin or a waterfall in more picturesque countries
+than Holland; for, indeed, during the last weeks in April and the early
+half of May, these fields of waving yellow, pink, and red are worth
+traveling many miles to see. As for Mrs. Vansittart, it may be said of
+her, as of the rest of her sex under similar circumstances, that it
+suited her purpose to say that she would like nothing better than to
+visit the tulip farms.
+
+Roden's suggestion included breakfast at the Villa des Dunes, whither
+Mrs. Vansittart drove in her habit, while her saddle-horse was to
+follow later. Dorothy welcomed her readily enough, with, however, a
+reserve at the back of her grey eyes. A woman is, it appears, ready to
+forgive much if love may be held out as an excuse, but Dorothy did not
+believe that Mrs. Vansittart had any love for Percy; indeed, she
+shrewdly suspected that all that part of this woman's life belonged to
+the past, and would remain there until the end of her existence. There
+are few things more astonishing to the close observer of human nature
+than the accuracy and rapidity with which one woman will sum up
+another.
+
+"You are not in your habit," said Mrs. Vansittart, seating herself at
+the breakfast-table. "You are not to be of the party?"
+
+"No," answered Dorothy. "I have never had the opportunity or the
+inclination to ride."
+
+"Ah, I know," laughed the elder woman. "Horses are old-fashioned, and
+only dowagers drive in a barouche to-day. I suppose you ride a bicycle,
+or would do so in any country but Holland, where the roads make that
+craze a madness. I must be content with my old-fashioned horse. If, in
+moving with the times, one's movements are apt to be awkward, it is
+better to be left behind, is it not, Mr. Roden?"
+
+Roden's glance expressed what he did not care to say in the presence of
+a third person. When a woman, whose every movement is graceful, speaks
+of awkwardness, she assuredly knows her ground.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, moreover, showed clearly enough that she was on the
+safe side of forty by quite a number of years when it came to settling
+herself in the saddle and sitting her fresh young horse.
+
+"Which way?" she inquired when they reached the canal.
+
+"Not that way, at all events," answered Roden, for his companion had
+turned her horse's head toward the malgamite works.
+
+He spoke with a laugh that was not pleasant to the ears, and a shadow
+passed through Mrs. Vansittart's dark eyes. She glanced across the
+yellow sand hills, where the works were effectually concealed by the
+rise and fall of the wind-swept land, from whence came no sign of human
+life, and only at times, when the north wind blew, a faint and not
+unpleasant odour like the smell of sealing-wax. For all that the world
+knew of the malgamite workers, they might have been a colony of lepers.
+"You speak," said Mrs. Vansittart, "as if you were a failure instead of
+a brilliant success. I think"--she paused for a moment, as if the
+thought were a real one and not a mere conversational convenience, as
+are the thoughts of most people--"that the cream of social life
+consists of the cheery failures."
+
+"I have no faith in my own luck," answered Percy Roden, gloomily, whose
+world was a narrow one, consisting as it did of himself and his
+bank-book. Moreover, most men draw aside readily enough the curtain
+that should hide the world in which they live, whereas women take their
+stand before their curtain and talk, and talk--of other things.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had never for a moment been mistaken in her estimate of
+her companion, of--as he considered himself--her lover. She had
+absolutely nothing in common with him. She was a physically lazy, but a
+mentally active woman, whose thoughts ran to abstract matters so
+persistently that they brought her to the verge of abstraction itself.
+
+Percy Roden, on the other hand, would, with better health, have been an
+athlete. In his youth he had overtaxed his strength on the football
+field. When he took up a newspaper now he read the money column first
+and the sporting items next.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart glanced at neither of these, and as often as not
+contented herself with the advertisements of new books, passing idly
+over the news of the world with a heedless eye. She, at all events,
+avoided the mistake, common to men and women of a journalistic
+generation, of allowing themselves to be vastly perturbed over events
+in far countries, which can in no way affect their lives.
+
+Roden, on the other hand, took a certain broad interest in the progress
+of the world, but only watched the daily procession of events with the
+discriminating eye of a business man. He kept his eye, in a word, on
+the main chance, as on a small golden thread woven in the grey tissue
+of the world's history.
+
+It was easy enough to make him talk of himself and of the Malgamite
+scheme.
+
+"And you must admit that you are a success, you know," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "I see your quiet grey carts, full of little square boxes,
+passing up Park Straat to the railway station in a procession every
+day."
+
+"Yes," admitted Roden. "We are doing a large business."
+
+He was willing to allow Mrs. Vansittart to suppose that he was a rich
+man, for he was shrewd enough to know that the affections, like all
+else in this world, are purchasable.
+
+"And there is no reason," suggested Mrs. Vansittart, "why you should
+not go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
+malgamite is an absolute secret."
+
+"Absolute."
+
+"And the process is preserved in your memory only?" asked the lady,
+with a little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity
+of wiser men than Percy Roden.
+
+"Not in my memory," he answered. "It is very long and technical, and I
+have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
+better one than mine."
+
+"And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered,
+or something dramatic of that sort--what would happen?"
+
+"Ah," answered Roden, "we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew,
+in our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys
+of the safe."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed. "It sounds like a romance," she said. She
+pulled up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. "Look at
+that line of sea," she said, "on the horizon. What a wonderful blue."
+
+"It is always dark like that with an east wind," replied Roden,
+practically. "We like to see it dark."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
+half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
+
+"Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,"
+he explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
+
+"You think of everything," she said, without enthusiasm.
+
+"No; I only think of you," he answered, with a little laugh, which
+indeed was his method of making love.
+
+For fear of Mrs. Vansittart laughing at him, he laughed at love--a very
+common form of cowardice. She smiled and said nothing, thus tacitly
+allowing him, as she had allowed him before, to assume that she was not
+displeased. She knew that in love he was the incarnation of caution,
+and would only venture so far as she encouraged him to come. She had
+him, in a word, thoroughly in hand.
+
+They rode on, talking of other things; and Roden, having sped his
+shaft, seemed relieved in mind, and had plenty to say--about himself. A
+man's interests are himself, and malgamite naturally formed a large
+part of Roden's conversation. Mrs. Vansittart encouraged him with a
+singular persistency to talk of this interesting product.
+
+"It is wonderful," she said--"quite wonderful."
+
+"Well, hardly that," he answered slowly, as if there were something
+more to be said, which he did not say.
+
+"And I do not give so much credit to Herr von Holzen as you suppose,"
+added Mrs. Vansittart, carelessly. "Some day you will have to fulfil
+your promise of taking me over the works."
+
+Roden did not answer. He was perhaps wondering when he had made the
+promise to which his companion referred.
+
+"Shall we go home that way?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, whose experience of
+the world had taught her that deliberate and steady daring in social
+matters usually, succeeds. "We might have a splendid gallop along the
+sands at low tide, and then ride up quietly through the dunes. I take a
+certain interest in--well--in your affairs, and you have never even
+allowed me to look at the outside of the malgamite works."
+
+"Should like to know the extent of your interest," muttered Roden, with
+his awkward laugh.
+
+"I dare say you would," replied Mrs. Vansittart, coolly. "But that is
+not the question. Here we are at the cross-roads. Shall we go home by
+the sands and the dunes?"
+
+"If you like," answered Roden, not too graciously.
+
+According to his lights, he was honestly in love with Mrs. Vansittart,
+but Percy Roden's lights were not brilliant, and his love was not a
+very high form of that little-known passion. It lacked, for instance,
+unselfishness, and love that lacks unselfishness is, at its best, a
+sorry business. He was afraid of ridicule. His vanity would not allow
+him to risk a rebuff. His was that faintness of heart which is all too
+common, and owes its ignoble existence to a sullen vanity. He wanted to
+be sure that Mrs. Vansittart loved him before he betrayed more than a
+half-contemptuous admiration for her. Who knows that he was not dimly
+aware of his own inferiority, and thus feared to venture?
+
+The tide was low, as Mrs. Vansittart had foreseen, and they galloped
+along the hard, flat sands towards Scheveningen, where a few clumsy
+fishing-boats lay stranded. Far out at sea, others plied their trade,
+tacking to and fro over the banks, where the fish congregate.
+The sky was clear, and the deep-coloured sea flashed here and there
+beneath the sun. Objects near and far stood out in the clear air with a
+startling distinctness. It was a fresh May morning, when it is good to
+be alive, and better to be young.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rode a few yards ahead of her companion, with a set
+face and deep calculating eyes. When they came within sight of the tall
+chimney of the pumping-station, it was she who led the way across the
+dunes. "Now," she suddenly inquired, pulling up, and turning in her
+saddle, "where are your works? It seems that one can never discover
+them."
+
+
+Roden passed her and took the lead. "I will take you there, since you
+are so anxious to go--if you will tell me why you wish to see the
+works," he said.
+
+"I should like to know," she answered, with averted eyes and a slow
+deliberation, "where and how you spend so much of your time."
+
+"I believe you are jealous of the malgamite works," he said, with his
+curt laugh.
+
+"Perhaps I am," she admitted, without meeting his glance; and Roden
+rode ahead, with a gleam of satisfaction in his heavy eyes.
+
+So Mrs. Vansittart found herself within the gates of the malgamite
+works, riding quietly on the silent sand, at the heels of Roden's
+horse.
+
+The workmen's dinner-bell had rung as they approached, and now the
+factories were deserted, while within the cottages the midday meal
+occupied the full attention of the voluntary exiles. For the directors
+had found it necessary, in the interests of all concerned, to bind the
+workers by solemn contract never to leave the precincts of the works
+without permission.
+
+Roden did not speak, but led the way across an open space now filled
+with carts, which were to be loaded during the day in readiness for an
+early despatch on the following morning. Mrs. Vansittart followed
+without asking questions. She was prepared to content herself with a
+very cursory visit.
+
+They had not progressed thirty yards from the entrance gate, which
+Roden had opened with a key attached to his watch-chain, when the door
+of one of the cottages moved, and Von Holzen appeared. He was hatless,
+and came out into the sunshine rather hurriedly.
+
+"Ah, madame," he said, "you honour us beyond our merits." And he stood,
+smiling gravely, in front of Mrs. Vansittart's horse.
+
+She surreptitiously touched the animal with her heel, but Von Holzen
+checked its movement by laying his hand on the bridle.
+
+"Alas!" he said, "it happens to be our mixing day, and the factories
+are hermetically closed while the process goes forward. Any other day,
+madame, that your fancy brings you over the dunes, I should be
+delighted--but not to-day. I tell you frankly there is danger. You
+surely would not run into it." He looked up at her with his searching
+gaze.
+
+"Ah! you think it is easy to frighten me, Herr von Holzen," she cried,
+with a little laugh.
+
+"No; but I would not for the world that you should unwittingly run any
+risks in this place."
+
+As he spoke, he led the horse quietly to the gate, and Mrs. Vansittart,
+seeing her helplessness, submitted with a good grace.
+
+Roden made no comment, and followed, not ill pleased, perhaps, at this
+simple solution of his difficulty.
+
+Von Holzen did not refer to the incident until late in the evening,
+when Roden was leaving the works.
+
+"This is too serious a time," he said, "to let women, or vanity,
+interfere in our plans. You know that the deaths are on the increase.
+Anything in the nature of an inquiry at this time would mean ruin,
+and--perhaps worse. Be careful of that woman. I sometimes think that
+she is fooling you.--But I think," he added to himself, when the gate
+was closed behind Roden, "that I can fool her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+"A tous maux, il y a deux rem�des--le temps et le silence."
+
+
+"They call me Uncle Ben--comprenny?" one man explained very slowly to
+another for the sixth time across a small iron table set out upon the
+pavement.
+
+They were seated in front of the humble Caf� de l'Europe, which lies
+concealed in an alley that runs between the Keize Straat and the
+lighthouse of Scheveningen. It was quite dark and a lonely reveler at
+the next table seemed to be asleep. The economical proprietor of the
+Caf� de l'Europe had conceived the idea of constructing a long-shaped
+lantern, not unlike the arm of a railway signal, which should at once
+bear the insignia of his house and afford light to his out-door custom.
+But the idea, like many of the higher flights of the human imagination,
+had only left the public in the dark.
+
+"Yes," continued the unchallenged speaker, in a voice which may be
+heard issuing from the door of any tavern in England on almost any
+evening of the week--the typical voice of the tavern-talker--"yes,
+they've always called me Uncle Ben. Seems as if they're sort o' fond of
+me. Me has seen many hundreds of 'em come and go. But nothing like
+this. Lord save us!"
+
+His hand fell heavily on the iron table, and he looked round him in
+semi-intoxicated stupefaction. He was in a confidential humour, and
+when a man is in this humour, drunk or sober, he is in a parlous state.
+It was certainly rather unfortunate that Uncle Ben should have in this
+expansive moment no more sympathetic companion than an ancient,
+intoxicated Frenchman, who spoke no word of English.
+
+"What I want to know, Frenchy," continued the Englishman, in a thick,
+aggrieved voice, "is how long you've been at this trade, and how much
+you know about it--you and the other Frenchy. But there's none of us
+speaks the other's lingo. It is a regular Tower of Babble we are!" And
+Uncle Ben added to his mental confusion a further alcoholic fog.
+"That's why I showed yer the way out of the works over the iron fence
+by the empty casks, and brought yer by the beach to this 'ere house of
+entertainment, and stood yer a bottle of brandy between two of
+us--which is handsome, not bein' my own money, seeing as how the others
+deputed me to do it--me knowing a bit of French, comprenny?" Benjamin,
+like most of his countrymen, considering that if one speaks English in
+a loud, clear voice, and adds "comprenny" rather severely, as
+indicating the intention of standing no nonsense, the previous remarks
+will translate themselves miraculously in the hearer's mind. "You
+comprenny--eh? Yes. Oui." "Oui," replied the Frenchman, holding out his
+glass; and Uncle Ben's was that pride which goes with a gift of
+tongues.
+
+He struck a match to light his pipe--one of the wooden, sulphur-headed
+matches supplied by the _caf�_--and the guest at the next table turned
+in his chair. The match flared up and showed two faces, which he
+studied keenly. Both faces were alike unwashed and deeply furrowed.
+White, straggling beards and whiskers accentuated the redness of the
+eyelids, the dull yellow of the skin. They were hopeless and debased
+faces, with that disquieting resemblance which is perceptible in the
+faces of men of dissimilar features and no kinship, who have for a
+number of years followed a common calling, or suffered a common pain.
+
+These two men were both half blind; they had equally unsteady hands.
+The clothing of both alike, and even their breath, was scented by a not
+unpleasant odour of sealing-wax.
+
+It was quite obvious that not only were they at present half
+intoxicated, but in their soberest moments they could hardly be of a
+high intelligence.
+
+The reveller at the next table, who happened to be Tony Cornish, now
+drew his chair nearer.
+
+"Englishman?" he inquired.
+
+"That's me," answered Uncle Ben, with commendable pride, "from the top
+of my head to me boots. Not that I've anything to say against
+foreigners."
+
+"Nor I; but it's pleasant to meet a countryman in a foreign land."
+Cornish deliberately brought his chair forward. "Your bottle is empty,"
+he added; "I'll order another. Friend's a Frenchman, eh?"
+
+"That he is--and doesn't understand his own language either," answered
+Uncle Ben, in a voice indicating that that lack of comprehension rather
+intensified his friend's Frenchness than otherwise.
+
+The proprietor of the Caf� de l'Europe now came out in answer to
+Cornish's rap on the iron table, and presently brought a small bottle
+of brandy.
+
+"Yes," said Cornish, pouring out the spirit, which his companions drank
+in its undiluted state from small tumblers--"yes, I'm glad to meet an
+Englishman. I suppose you are in the works--the Malgamite?"
+
+"I am. And what do you know about malgamite, mister?"
+
+"Well, not much, I am glad to say."
+
+"There is precious few that knows anything," said the man, darkly, and
+his eye for a moment sobered into cunning.
+
+"I have heard that it is a very dangerous trade, and if you want to get
+out of it I'm connected with an association in London to provide
+situations for elderly men who are no longer up to their work," said
+Cornish, carelessly.
+
+"Thank ye, mister; not for me. I'm making my five-pound note a week, I
+am, and each cove that dies off makes the survivors one richer, so to
+speak--survival of the fittest, they call it. So we don't talk much, and
+just pockets the pay."
+
+"Ah, that is the arrangement, is it?" said Cornish, indifferently.
+"Yes. We've got a clever financier, as they call it, I can tell yer.
+We're a good-goin' concern, we are. Some of us are goin' pretty quick,
+too."
+
+"Are there many deaths, then?"
+
+"Ah! there you're asking a question," returned the man, who came of a
+class which has no false shame in refusing a reply.
+
+Cornish looked at the man beneath the dim light of the unsuccessful
+lamp--a piteous specimen of humanity, depraved, besotted, without
+outward sign of a redeeming virtue, although a certain courage must
+have been there--this and such as this stood between him and
+Dorothy Roden. Uncle Ben had known starvation at one time, for
+starvation writes certain lines which even turtle soup may never wipe
+out--lines which any may read and none may forget. Tony Cornish had
+seen them before--on the face of an old dandy coming down the steps of
+a St. James's Street club. The malgamiter had likewise known drink long
+and intimately, and it is no exaggeration to say that he had stood
+cheek by jowl with death nearly all his life.
+
+Such a man was plainly not to be drawn away from five pounds a week.
+
+Cornish turned to the Frenchman--a little, cunning, bullet-headed
+Lyonnais, who would not speak of his craft at all, though he expressed
+every desire to be agreeable to monsieur.
+
+"When one is _en f�te_," he cried, "it is good to drink one's glass or
+two and think no more of work."
+
+"I knew one or two of your men once," said Cornish, returning to the
+genial Uncle Ben. "William Martins, I remember, was a decent fellow,
+and had seen a bit of the world. I will come to the works and look him
+up some day."
+
+"You can look him up, mister, but you won't find him."
+
+"Ah, has he gone home?"
+
+"He's gone to his long home, that's where he's gone."
+
+"And his brother, Tom Martins, both London men, like myself?" inquired
+Cornish, without asking that question which Uncle Ben considered such
+exceedingly bad form.
+
+"Tom's dead, too."
+
+"And there were two Americans, I recollect--I came across from Harwich
+in the same boat with them--Hewlish they were called."
+
+"Hewlishes has stepped round the corner, too," admitted Uncle Ben. "Oh
+yes; there's been changes in the works, there's no doubt. And there's
+only one sort o' change in the malgamite trade. Come on, Frenchy,
+time's up."
+
+The men stood up and bade Cornish good night, each after his own
+manner, and went away steadily enough. It was only their heads that
+were intoxicated, and perhaps the brandy of the Caf� de l'Europe had
+nothing to do with this.
+
+Cornish followed them, and, in the Keize Straat, he called a cab,
+telling the man to drive to the house at the corner of Oranje Straat
+and Park Straat, occupied by Mrs. Vansittart. That lady, the servant
+said, in reply to his careful inquiry, was at home and alone, and,
+moreover, did not expect visitors. The man was not at all sure that
+madame would receive.
+
+"I will try," said Cornish, writing two words in German on the corner
+of his visiting-card. "You see," he continued, noticing a well-trained
+glance, "that I am not dressed, so if other visitors arrive, I would
+rather not be discovered in madame's salon, you understand?"
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shook hands with Cornish in silence, her quick eyes
+noted the change in him which the shrewd butler had noticed in the
+entrance-hall. The Cornish of a year earlier would have gone back to
+the hotel to dress.
+
+"I was just going out to the Witte society concert," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "I thought the open air and the wood would be pleasant this
+evening. Shall we go or shall we remain?" She stood with her hand on
+the bell looking at him.
+
+"Let us remain here," he answered.
+
+She rang the bell and countermanded the carriage. Then she sat slowly
+down, moving as under a sort of oppression, as if she foresaw what the
+next few minutes contained, and felt herself on the threshold of one of
+the surprises that Fate springs upon us at odd times, tearing aside the
+veils behind which human hearts have slept through many years. For
+indifference is not the death, but only the sleep of the heart.
+
+"You have just arrived?"
+
+"No; I have been here a week."
+
+"At The Hague?"
+
+"No," answered Cornish, with a grave smile; "at a little inn in
+Scheveningen, where no questions are asked."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart nodded her head slowly. "Then, _mon ami_," she said,
+"the time has come for plain speaking?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"It is always the woman who wants to get to the plain speaking," she
+said, with a smile, "and who speaks the plainest when one gets there.
+You men are afraid of so many words; you think them, but you dare not
+make use of them. And how are women to know that you are thinking
+them?" She spoke with a sort of tolerant bitterness, as if all these
+questions no longer interested her personally. She sat forward, with
+one hand on the arm of her chair. "Come," she said, with a little laugh
+that shook and trembled on the brink of a whole sea of unshed tears, "I
+will speak the first word. When my husband died, my heart broke--and
+it was Otto von Holzen who killed him." Her eyes flashed suddenly, and
+she threw herself back in the chair. Her hands were trembling.
+
+Cornish made a quick gesture of the hand--a trick he had learnt
+somewhere on the Continent, more eloquent than a hundred words--which
+told of his sympathy and his comprehension of all that she had left
+unsaid. For truly she had told him her whole history in a dozen words.
+
+"I have followed him and watched him ever since," she went on at
+length, in a quiet voice; "but a woman is so helpless. I suppose if any
+of us were watched and followed as he has been our lives would appear a
+strange mixture of a little good and much bad, mixed with a mass of
+neutral idleness. But surely his life is worse than the rest--not that
+it matters. Whatever his life had been, if he had been a living saint,
+Tony, he would have had to pay--for what he has done to me."
+
+She looked steadily into the keen face that was watching hers. She was
+not in the least melodramatic, and what was stranger, perhaps, she was
+not ashamed. According to her lights, she was a good woman, who went to
+church regularly, and did a little conventional good with her
+superfluous wealth. She obeyed the unwritten laws of society, and
+busied herself little in her neighbours' affairs. She was kind to her
+servants, and did not hate her neighbours more than is necessary in a
+crowded world. She led a blameless, unoccupied, and apparently
+purposeless life. And now she quietly told Tony Cornish that her life
+was not purposeless, but had for its aim the desire of an eye for an
+eye and a life for a life.
+
+"You remember my husband," continued Mrs. Vansittart, after a pause.
+"He was always absorbed in his researches. He made a great discovery,
+and confided in Otto von Holzen, who thought that he could make a
+fortune out of it. But Von Holzen cheated and was caught. There was a
+great trial, and Von Holzen succeeded in incriminating my husband, who
+was innocent, instead of himself. The company, of course, failed, which
+meant ruin and dishonour. In a fit of despair my husband shot himself.
+And afterwards it transpired that by shooting himself at that time he
+saved my money. One cannot take proceedings against a dead man, it
+appears. So I was left a rich woman, after all, and my husband had
+frustrated Otto von Holzen. The world did not believe that my husband
+had done it on purpose; but I knew better. It is one of those beliefs
+that one keeps to one's self, and is indifferent whether the world
+believes or not. So there remain but two things for me to do--the one
+is to enjoy the money, and to let my husband see that I spend it as he
+would have wished me to spend it--upon myself; the other is to make
+Otto von Holzen pay--when the time comes. Who knows? the Malgamite is
+perhaps the time; you are perhaps the man." She gave her disquieting
+little laugh again, and sat looking at him.
+
+"I understand," he said at length. "Before, I was puzzled. There seemed
+no reason why you should take any interest in the scheme."
+
+"My interest in the Malgamite scheme narrows down to an interest in one
+person," answered Mrs. Vansittart, "which is what really happens to all
+human interests, my friend."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+A COMPLICATION.
+
+"La plus grande punition inflig�e � l'homme, c'est faire souffrir ce
+qu'il aime, en voulant frapper ce qu'il hait."
+
+
+Cornish had, as he told Mrs. Vansittart, been living a week at
+Scheveningen in one of the quiet little inns in the fishing-town, where
+a couple of apples are displayed before lace curtains in the window of
+the restaurant as a modest promise of entertainment within. Knowing no
+Dutch, he was saved the necessity of satisfying the curiosity of a
+garrulous landlady, who, after many futile questions which he
+understood perfectly, came to the conclusion that Cornish was in
+hiding, and might at any moment fall into the hands of the police.
+
+There are, it appears, few human actions that attract more curiosity
+for a short time than the act of colonization. But no change is in the
+long run so apathetically accepted as the presence of a colony of
+aliens. Cornish soon learnt that the malgamite works were already
+accepted at Scheveningen as a fact of small local importance. One or
+two fish-sellers took their wares there instead of going direct to The
+Hague. A few of the malgamite workers were seen at times, when they
+could get leave, on the Digue, or outside the smaller _caf�s_.
+Inoffensive, stricken men these appeared to be, and the big-limbed,
+hardy fishermen looked on them with mingled contempt and pity. No one
+knew what the works were, and no one cared. Some thought that fireworks
+were manufactured within the high fence; others imagined it to be a
+gunpowder factory. All were content with the knowledge that the
+establishment belonged to an English company employing no outside
+labour.
+
+Cornish spent his days unobtrusively walking on the dunes or writing
+letters in his modest rooms. His evenings he usually passed at the Caf�
+de l'Europe, where an occasional truant malgamite worker would indulge
+in a mild carouse. From these grim revelers Cornish elicited a good
+deal of information. He was not actually, as his landlady suspected, in
+hiding, but desired to withhold as long as possible from Von Holzen and
+Roden the fact that he was in Holland. None of the malgamite workers
+recognized him; indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across
+to The Hague, and he did not care to ask too many questions. At length,
+as we have seen, he arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes
+had been too deeply laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a
+preliminary to further action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+The following morning he happened to take his walk within sight of the
+Villa des Dunes, although far enough away to avoid risk of recognition,
+and saw Percy Roden leave the house shortly after nine to proceed
+towards the works. Then Tony Cornish lighted a cigarette, and sat down
+to wait. He knew that Dorothy usually walked to The Hague before the
+heat of the day to do her shopping there and household business. He had
+not long to wait. Dorothy quitted the little house half an hour after
+her brother. But she did not go towards The Hague, turning to the right
+instead, across the open dunes towards the sea. It was a cool morning
+after many hot days, and a fresh, invigorating breeze swept over the
+sand hills from the sea. It was to be presumed that Dorothy, having
+leisure, was going to the edge of the sea for a breath of the brisk air
+there.
+
+Cornish rose and followed her. He was essentially a practical
+man--among the leaders of a practical generation. The day, moreover,
+was conducive to practical thoughts and not to dreams, for it was grey
+and yet of a light air which came bowling in from a grey sea whose
+shores have assuredly been trodden by the most energetic of the races
+of the world. For all around the North Sea and on its bosom have risen
+races of men to conquer the universe again and again.
+
+Cornish had come with the intention of seeing Dorothy and speaking with
+her. He had quite clearly in his mind what he intended to say to her.
+It is not claimed for Tony Cornish that he had a great mind, and that
+this was now made up. But his thoughts, like all else about him, were
+neat and compact, wherein he had the advantage of cleverer men, who
+blundered along under the burden of vast ideas, which they could not
+put into portable shape, and over which they constantly stumbled.
+
+He followed Dorothy, who walked briskly over the sand hills, upright,
+trim, and strong. She carried a stick, which she planted firmly enough
+in the sand as she walked. As he approached, he could see her lifting
+her head to look for the sea; for the highest hills are on the shore
+here, and stand in the form of a great barrier between the waves and
+the low-lying plains. She swung along at the pace which Mrs. Vansittart
+had envied her, without exertion, with that ease which only comes from
+perfect proportions and strength.
+
+Cornish was quite close to her before she heard his step, and turned
+sharply. She recognized him at once, and he saw the colour slowly rise
+to her face. She gave no cry of surprise, however, was in no foolish
+feminine flutter, but came towards him quietly.
+
+"I did not know you were in Holland," she said.
+
+He shook hands without answering. All that he had prepared in his mind
+had suddenly vanished, leaving not a blank, but a hundred other things
+which he had not intended to say, and which now, at the sight of her
+face, seemed inevitable.
+
+"Yes," he said, looking into her steady grey eyes, "I am in
+Holland--because I cannot stay away--because I cannot live without you.
+I have pretended to myself and to everybody else that I come to The
+Hague because of the Malgamite; but it is not that. It is because you
+are here. Wherever you are I must be; wherever you go I must follow
+you. The world is not big enough for you to get away from me. It is so
+big that I feel I must always be near you--for fear something should
+happen to you--to watch over you and take care of you. You know what my
+life has been...."
+
+She turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the
+head. For a woman may read a man's life in his face--in the twinkling
+of an eye--as in an open book.
+
+"All the world knows that...." he continued, with a sceptical laugh.
+"Is it not written ... in the society papers? But it has always been
+aboveboard--and harmless enough...."
+
+Dorothy smiled as she looked out across the grey sea. He was, it
+appeared, telling her nothing that she did not know. For she was wise
+and shrewd--of that pure leaven of womankind which leaveneth all the
+rest. And she knew that a man must not be judged by his life--not even
+by outward appearance, upon which the world pins so much faith--but by
+that occasional glimpse of the soul of him, which may live on, pure
+through all impurity, or may be foul beneath the whitest covering.
+
+"Of course," he continued, "I have wasted my time horribly--I have
+never done any good in the world. But--great is the extenuating
+circumstance! I never knew what life was until I saw it ... in your
+eyes."
+
+Still she stood with her back half turned towards him, looking out
+across the sea. The sun had mastered the clouds and all the surface of
+the water glittered. A few boats on the horizon seemed to dream and
+sleep there. Beneath the dunes, the sand stretched away north and south
+in an unbroken plain. The wind whispered through the waving grass, and,
+far across the sands, the sea sang its eternal song. Dorothy and
+Cornish seemed to be alone in this world of sea and sand. So far as the
+eye could see, there were no signs of human life but the boats dreaming
+on the horizon.
+
+"Are you quite sure?" said Dorothy, without turning her head.
+
+"Of what...?"
+
+"Of what you say."
+
+"Yes; I am quite sure."
+
+"Because," she said, with a little laugh that suddenly opened the gates
+of Paradise and bade one more poor human-being enter in--"because it is
+a serious matter ... for me."
+
+Then, because he was a practical man and knew that happiness, like all
+else in this life, must be dealt with practically if aught is to be
+made of it, he told her why he had come. For happiness must not be
+rushed at and seized with wild eyes and grasping hands, but must be
+quickly taken when the chance offers, and delicately handled so that it
+be not ruined by over haste or too much confidence. It is a gift that
+is rarely offered, and it is only fair to say that the majority of men
+and women are quite unfit to have it. Even a little prosperity (which
+is usually mistaken for happiness) often proves too much for the mental
+equilibrium, and one trembles to think what the recipient would do with
+real happiness.
+
+"I did not come here intending to tell you that," said Cornish, after a
+pause.
+
+
+They were seated now on the dry and driven sand, among the inequalities
+of the tufted grass.
+
+Dorothy glanced at him gravely, for his voice had been grave.
+
+"I think I knew," she answered, with a sort of quiet exultation.
+Happiness is the quietest of human states.
+
+Cornish turned to look at her, and after a moment she met his eyes--for
+an instant only.
+
+"I came to tell you a very different story," he said, "and one which at
+the moment seems to present insuperable difficulties. I can only show
+you that I care for you by bringing trouble into your life--which is not
+even original."
+
+He broke off with a little, puzzled laugh. For he did not know how best
+to tell her that her brother was a scoundrel. He sat making idle holes
+in the sand with his stick.
+
+"I am in a difficulty," he said at length--"so great a difficulty that
+there seems to be only one way out of it. You must forget what I have
+told you to-day, for I never meant to tell you until afterwards, if
+ever. Forget it for some months until the malgamite works have ceased
+to exist, and then, if I have the good fortune to be given an
+opportunity, I will"--he paused--"I will mention myself again," he
+concluded steadily.
+
+Dorothy's lips quivered, but she said nothing. It seemed that she was
+content to accept his judgment without comment as superior to her own.
+For the wisest woman is she who suspects that men are wiser.
+
+
+"It is quite clear," said Cornish, "that the Malgamite scheme is a
+fraud. It is worse than that; it is a murderous fraud. For Von Holzen's
+new system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system
+revived, which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not
+this identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the
+stuff for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English,
+it is murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I must stop it whatever it may cost me."
+
+"Yes," she answered again.
+
+"I am going to the works to-night to have it out with Von Holzen and
+your brother. It is impossible to say how matters really stand--how
+much your brother knows, I mean--for Von Holzen is clever. He is a
+cold, calculating man, who rules all who come near him. Your brother
+has only to do with the money part of it. They are making a great
+fortune. I am told that financially it is splendidly managed. I am a
+duffer at such things, but I understand better now how it has all been
+done, and I see how clever it is. They produce the stuff for almost
+nothing, they sell it at a great price, and they have a monopoly. And
+the world thinks it is a charity. It is not; it is murder."
+
+He spoke quietly, tapping the ground with his stick, and emphasizing
+his words with a deeper thrust into the sand. The habit of touching
+life lightly had become second nature with him, and even now he did not
+seem quite serious. He was, at all events, free from that deadly
+earnestness which blinds the eye to all save one side of a question.
+The very soil that he tapped could have risen up to speak in favour of
+such as he; for William the Silent, it is said, loved a jest, and never
+seemed to be quite serious during the long years of the greatest
+struggle the modern world has seen.
+
+"It seems probable," went on Cornish, "that your brother has been
+gradually drawn into it; that he did not know when he first joined Von
+Holzen what the thing really was--the system of manufacture, I mean. As
+for the financial side of it, I am afraid he must have known of that
+all along; but the older one gets the less desirous one is of judging
+one's neighbour. In financial matters so much seems to depend, in the
+formation of a judgment, whether one is a loser or a gainer by the
+transaction. There is a great fortune in malgamite, and a fortune is a
+temptation to be avoided. Others besides your brother have been
+tempted. I should probably have succumbed myself if it had not
+been--for you."
+
+
+She smiled again in a sort of derision; as if she could have told him
+more about himself than he could tell her. He saw the smile, and it
+brought a flash of light to his eyes. Deeper than fear of damnation,
+higher than the creeds, stronger than any motive in a man's life, is
+the absolute confidence placed in him by a woman.
+
+"I went into the thing thoughtlessly," he continued, "because it was
+the fashion at the time to be concerned in some large charity. And I am
+not sorry. It was the luckiest move I ever made. And now the thing will
+have to be gone through with, and there will be trouble."
+
+But he laughed as he spoke; for there was no trouble in their hearts,
+neither could anything appall them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+DANGER.
+
+"Beware equally of a sudden friend and a slow enemy."
+
+
+Roden and Von Holzen were at work in the little office of the malgamite
+works. The sun had just set, and the soft pearly twilight was creeping
+over the sand hills. The day's work was over, and the factories were
+all locked up for the night. In the stillness that seems to settle over
+earth and sea at sunset, the sound of the little waves could be
+heard--a distant, constant babbling from the west. The workers had gone
+to their huts. They were not a noisy body of men. It was their custom
+to creep quietly home when their work was done, and to sit in their
+doorways if the evening was warm, or with closed doors if the north
+wind was astir, and silently, steadily assuage their deadly thirst.
+Those who sought to harvest their days, who fondly imagined they were
+going to make a fight for it, drank milk according to advice handed
+down to them from their sickly forefathers. The others, more reckless,
+or wiser, perhaps, in their brief generation, took stronger drink to
+make glad their hearts and for their many infirmities.
+
+They had merely to ask, and that which they asked for was given to them
+without comment.
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Ben to the new-comers, "you has a slap-up time--while
+it lasts."
+
+For Uncle Ben was a strong man, and waxed garrulous in his cups. He had
+made malgamite all his life and nothing would kill him, not even drink.
+Von Holzen watched Uncle Ben, and did not like him. It was Uncle Ben
+who played the concertina at the door of his hut in the evening. He
+sprang from the class whose soul takes delight in the music of a
+concertina, and rises on bank holidays to that height of gaiety which
+can only be expressed by an interchange of hats. He came from the slums
+of London, where they breed a race of men, small, ill-formed,
+disease-stricken, hard to kill.
+
+The north wind was blowing this evening, and the huts were all closed.
+The sound of Uncle Ben's concertina could be dimly heard in what
+purported to be a popular air--a sort of nightmare of a tune such as a
+barrel-organist must suffer after bad beer. Otherwise, there was
+nothing stirring within the enclosure. There was, indeed, a hush over
+the whole place, such as Nature sometimes lays over certain spots like
+a quiet veil, as one might lay a cloth over the result of an accident,
+and say, "There is something wrong here; go away."
+
+Cornish, having tried the main entrance gate, found it locked, and no
+bell with which to summon those within. He went round to the northern
+end of the enclosure, where the sand had drifted against the high
+corrugated iron fencing, and where there were empty barrels on the
+inner side, as Uncle Ben had told him.
+
+"After all, I am a managing director of this concern," said Cornish to
+himself, with a grim laugh, as he clambered over the fence.
+
+He walked down the row of huts very slowly. Some of them were empty.
+The door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him
+stop and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy
+sheet.
+
+"Um--m," muttered Cornish, and walked on.
+
+There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then
+Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to
+"Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay." He bit his lips, restraining a sudden desire to
+laugh without any mirth in his heart, and went towards Von Holzen's
+office, where a light gleamed through the ill-closed curtains. For
+these men were working night and day now--making their fortunes. He
+caught, as he passed the window, a glimpse of Roden bending over a
+great ledger which lay open before him on the table, while Von Holzen,
+at another desk, was writing letters in his neat German hand.
+
+Then Cornish went to the door, opened it, and passing in, closed it
+behind him.
+
+"Good evening," he said, with just a slight exaggeration of his usual
+suave politeness.
+
+"Halloa!" exclaimed Roden, with a startled look, and instinctively
+closing his ledger.
+
+He looked hastily towards Von Holzen, who turned, pen in hand. Von
+Holzen bowed rather coldly.
+
+"Good evening," he answered, without looking at Roden. Indeed, he
+crossed the room, and placed himself in front of his companion.
+
+"Just come across?" inquired Roden, putting together his papers with
+his usual leisureliness.
+
+"No; I have been here some time."
+
+Cornish turned and met Von Holzen's eyes with a ready audacity. He was
+not afraid of this silent scientist, and had been trained in a social
+world where nerve and daring are highly cultivated. Von Holzen looked
+at him with a measuring eye, and remembered some warning words spoken
+by Roden months before. This was a cleverer man than they had thought
+him. This was the one mistake they had made in their careful scheme.
+
+"I have been looking into things," said Cornish, in a final voice. He
+took off his hat and laid it aside.
+
+Von Holzen went slowly back to his desk, which was a high one. He stood
+there close by Roden, leaning his elbow on the letters that he had been
+writing. The two men were thus together facing Cornish, who stood at
+the other side of the table.
+
+"I have been looking into things," he repeated, "and--the game is up."
+
+Roden, whose face was quite colourless, shrugged his shoulders with a
+sneering smile. Von Holzen slowly moistened his lips, and Cornish,
+meeting his glance, felt his heart leap upward to his throat. His
+way had been the way of peace. He had never seen that look in a man's
+eyes before, but there was no mistaking it. There are two things that
+none can mistake--an earthquake, and murder shining in a man's eyes.
+But there was good blood in Cornish's veins, and good blood never
+fails. His muscles tightened, and he smiled in Von Holzen's face.
+
+"When you were over in London a fortnight ago," he said, "you saw my
+uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be
+squared. As to the financial part of this business"--he paused, and
+glanced at the ledgers--"that seems to be of secondary importance at
+the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance."
+
+Roden's tired eyes flickered at the way in which the word was spoken.
+
+"I propose to deal with the more vital questions," Cornish continued,
+looking straight at Von Holzen. "I want details of the new process--the
+prescription, in fact."
+
+"Then you want much," answered Von Holzen, with his slight accent.
+
+"Oh, I want more than that," was the retort; "I want a list of your
+deaths--not necessarily for publication. If the public were to hear of
+it, they would pull the place down about your ears, and probably hang
+you on your own water-tower."
+
+Von Holzen laughed. "Ah, my fine gentleman, if there is any hanging up
+to be done, you are in it, too," he said. Then he broke into a
+good-humoured laugh, and waved the question aside with his hand. "But
+why should we quarrel? It is mere foolishness. We are not schoolboys,
+but men of the world, who are reasonable, I hope. I cannot give you the
+prescription because it is a trade secret. You would not understand it
+without expert assistance, and the expert would turn his knowledge to
+account. We chemists, you see, do not trust each other. No; but I can
+make malgamite here before your eyes--to show you that it is
+harmless--what?" He spoke easily, with a certain fascination of manner,
+as a man to whom speech was easy enough--who was perhaps silent with a
+set purpose--because silence is safe. "But it is a long process," he
+added, holding up one finger, "I warn you. It will take me two hours.
+And you, who have perhaps not dined, and this Roden, who is tired
+out--"
+
+"Roden can go home--if he is tired," said Cornish.
+
+"Well," answered Von Holzen, with outspread hands, "it is as you like.
+Will you have it now and here?"
+
+"Yes--now and here."
+
+Roden was slowly folding away his papers and closing his books. He
+glanced curiously at Von Holzen, as if he were displaying a hitherto
+unknown side to his character. Von Holzen, too, was collecting the
+papers scattered on his desk, with a patient air and a half-suppressed
+sigh of weariness, as if he were entering upon a work of
+supererogation.
+
+"As to the deaths," he said, "I can demonstrate that as we go along.
+You will see where the dangers lie, and how criminally neglectful these
+people are. It is a curious thing, that carelessness of life. I am told
+the Russian soldiers have it."
+
+It seemed that in his way Herr von Holzen was a philosopher, having in
+his mind a store of odd human items. He certainly had the power of
+arousing curiosity and making his hearers wish him to continue
+speaking, which is rare. Most men are uninteresting because they talk
+too much.
+
+"Then I think I will go," said Roden, rising. He looked from one to the
+other, and received no answer. "Good night," he added, and walked to
+the door with dragging feet.
+
+"Good night," said Cornish. And he was left alone for the first time in
+his life with Von Holzen, who was clearing the table and making his
+preparations with a silent deftness of touch acquired by the handling
+of delicate instruments, the mixing of dangerous drugs.
+
+"Then our good friend Lord Ferriby does not know that you are here?" he
+inquired, without much interest, as if acknowledging the necessity of
+conversation of some sort.
+
+"No," answered Cornish.
+
+"When I have shown you this experiment," pursued Von Holzen, setting
+the lamp on a side-table, "we must have a little talk about his
+lordship. With all modesty, you and I have the clearest heads of all
+concerned in this invention." He looked at Cornish with his sudden,
+pleasant smile. "You will excuse me," he said, "if while I am doing
+this I do not talk much. It is a difficult thing to keep in one's head,
+and all the attention is required in order to avoid a mistake or a
+mishap."
+
+He had already assumed an air of unconscious command, which was
+probably habitual with him, as if there were no question between them
+as to who was the stronger man. Cornish sat, pleasantly silent and
+acquiescent, but he felt in no way dominated. It is one thing to assume
+authority, and another to possess it.
+
+"I have a little laboratory in the factory where I usually work, but
+not at night. We do not allow lights in there. Excuse me, I will fetch
+my crucible and lamp."
+
+And he went out, leaving Cornish alone. There was only one door to the
+room, leading straight out into the open. The office, it appeared, was
+built in the form of an annex to one of the storehouses, which stood
+detached from all other buildings.
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen returned, laden with bottles and jars. One
+large wicker-covered bottle with a screw top he set carefully on the
+table.
+
+"I had to find them in the dark," he explained absent-mindedly, as if
+his thoughts were all absorbed by the work in hand. "And one must be
+careful not to jar or break any of these. Please do not touch them in
+my absence." As he spoke, he again examined the stoppers to see that
+all was secure. "I come again," he said, making sure that the large
+basket-covered bottle was safe. Then he walked quickly out of the room
+and closed the door behind him.
+
+Almost immediately Cornish was conscious of a bitter taste in his
+mouth, though he could smell nothing. The lamp suddenly burnt blue and
+instantly went out.
+
+Cornish stood up, groping in the dark, his head swimming, a deadly
+numbness dragging at his limbs. He had no pain, only a strange
+sensation of being drawn upwards. Then his head bumped against the
+door, and the remaining glimmer of consciousness shaped itself into the
+knowledge that this was death. He seemed to swing backwards and
+forwards between life and death--between sleep and consciousness. Then
+he felt a cooler air on his lips. He had fallen against the door, which
+did not fit against the threshold, and a draught of fresh air whistled
+through upon his face. "Carbonic acid gas," he muttered, with shaking
+lips. "Carbonic acid gas." He repeated the words over and over again,
+as a man in delirium repeats that which has fixed itself in his
+wandering brain. Then, with a great effort, he brought himself to
+understand the meaning of the words that one portion of his brain kept
+repeating to the other portion which could not comprehend them. He
+tried to recollect all that he knew of carbonic acid gas, which was, in
+fact, not much. He vaguely remembered that it is not an active gas that
+mingles with the air and spreads, but rather it lurks in corners--an
+invisible form of death--and will so lurk for years unless disturbed
+by a current of air.
+
+ Cornish knew that in falling he had fallen out of the radius of the
+escaping gas, which probably filled the upper part of the room. If he
+raised himself, he would raise himself into the gas, which was slowly
+descending upon him, and that would mean instant death. He had already
+inhaled enough--perhaps too much. He lay quite still, breathing the
+draught between the door and the threshold, and raising his left hand,
+felt for the handle of the door. He found it and turned it. The door
+was locked. He lay still, and his brain began to wander, but with an
+effort he kept a hold upon his thoughts. He was a strong man, who had
+never had a bad illness--a cool head and an intrepid heart.
+Stretching out his legs, he found some object close to him. It was Von
+Holzen's desk, which stood on four strong legs against the wall.
+Cornish, who was quick and observant, remembered now how the room was
+shaped and furnished. He gathered himself together, drew in his legs,
+and doubled himself, with his feet against the desk, his shoulder
+against the door. He was long and lithe, of a steely strength which he
+had never tried. He now slowly straightened himself, and tore the
+screws out of the solid wood of the door, which remained hanging by the
+upper hinge. His head and shoulders were now out in the open air.
+He lay for a moment or two to regain his breath, and recover from the
+deadly nausea that follows gas poisoning. Then he rose to his feet, and
+stood swaying like a drunken man. Von Holzen's cottage was a few yards
+away. A light was burning there, and gleamed through the cracks of the
+curtains.
+
+Cornish went towards the cottage, then paused. "No," he muttered,
+holding his head with both hands. "It will keep." And he staggered away
+in the darkness towards the corner where the empty barrels stood
+against the fence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+FROM THE PAST.
+
+"One and one with a shadowy third."
+
+
+"You have the air, _mon ami_, of a malgamiter," said Mrs. Vansittart,
+looking into Cornish's face--"lurking here in your little inn in a back
+street! Why do you not go to one of the larger hotels in Scheveningen,
+since you have abandoned The Hague?"
+
+"Because the larger hotels are not open yet," replied Cornish, bringing
+forward a chair.
+
+"That is true, now that I think of it. But I did not ask the question
+wanting an answer. You, who have been in the world, should know women
+better than to think that. I asked in idleness--a woman's trick.
+Yes; you have been or you are ill. There is a white look in your face."
+
+She sat looking at him. She had walked all the way from Park Straat in
+the shade of the trees--quite a pedestrian feat for one who confessed to
+belonging to a carriage generation. She had boldly entered the
+restaurant of the little hotel, and had told the waiter to take her to
+Mr. Cornish's apartment.
+
+"It hardly matters what a very young waiter, at the beginning of his
+career, may think of us. But downstairs they are rather scandalized, I
+warn you," she said.
+
+"Oh, I ceased explaining many years ago," replied Cornish, "even in
+English. More suspicion is aroused by explanation than by silence. For
+this wise world will not believe that one is telling the truth."
+
+"When one is not," suggested Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"When one is not," admitted Cornish, in rather a tired voice, which, to
+so keen an ear as that of his hearer, was as good as asking her why she
+had come.
+
+She laughed. "Yes," she said, "you are not inclined to sit and talk
+nonsense at this time in the morning. No more am I. I did not walk from
+Park Straat and take your defences by storm, and subject myself to the
+insult of a raised eyebrow on the countenance of a foolish young
+waiter, to talk nonsense even with you, who are cleverer with your
+non-committing platitudes than any man I know." She laughed rather
+harshly, as many do when they find themselves suddenly within hail, as
+it were, of that weakness which is called feeling. "No, I came here
+on--let us say--business. I hold a good card, and I am going to play
+it. I want you to hold your hand in the mean time; give me to-day, you
+understand. I have taken great care to strengthen my hand. This is no
+sudden impulse, but a set purpose to which I have led up for some
+weeks. It is not scrupulous; it is not even honest. It is, in a word,
+essentially feminine, and not an affair to which you as a man could
+lend a moment's approval. Therefore, I tell you nothing. I merely ask
+you to leave me an open field to-day. Our end is the same, though our
+methods and our purpose differ as much as--well, as much as our minds.
+You want to break this Malgamite corner. I want to break Otto von
+Holzen. You understand?"
+
+Cornish had known her long enough to permit himself to nod and say
+nothing.
+
+"If I succeed, _tant mieux_. If I fail, it is no concern of yours, and
+it will in no way affect you or your plans. Ah, you disapprove, I see.
+What a complicated world this would be if we could all wear masks! Your
+face used to be a safer one than it is now. Can it be that you are
+becoming serious--_un jeune homme s�rieux?_ Heaven save you from that!"
+
+"No; I have a headache; that is all," laughed
+Cornish.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was slowly unbuttoning and rebuttoning her glove, deep
+in thought. For some women can think deeply and talk superficially at
+the same moment.
+
+"Do you know," she said, with a sudden change of voice and manner, "I
+have a conviction that you know something to-day of which you were
+ignorant yesterday? All knowledge, I suppose, leaves its mark.
+Something about Otto von Holzen, I suspect. Ah, Tony, if you know
+something, tell it to me. If you hold a strong card, let me play it.
+You do not know how I have longed and waited--what a miserable little
+hand I hold against this strong man."
+
+She was serious enough now. Her voice had a ring of hopelessness in it,
+as if she knew that limit against which a woman is fated to throw
+herself when she tries to injure a man who has no love for her. If the
+love be there, then is she strong, indeed; but without it, what can she
+do? It is the little more that is so much, and the little less that is
+such worlds away.
+
+Cornish did not deny the knowledge which she ascribed to him, but
+merely shook his head, and Mrs. Vansittart suddenly changed her manner
+again. She was quick and clever enough to know that whatever account
+stood open between Cornish and Von Holzen the reckoning must be between
+them alone, without the help of any woman.
+
+"Then you will remain indoors," she said, rising, "and recover from
+your ... strange headache--and not go near the malgamite works, nor see
+Percy Roden or Otto von Holzen--and let me have my little try--that is
+all I ask."
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, reluctantly; "but I think you would be wiser
+to leave Von Holzen to me."
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, with one of her quick glances. "You think
+that."
+
+She paused on the threshold, then shrugged her shoulders and passed
+out. She hurried home, and there wrote a note to Percy Roden.
+
+"DEAR MR. RODEN,
+
+"It seems a long time since I saw you last, though perhaps it only
+seems so to _me_. I shall be at home at five o'clock this evening, if
+you care to take pity on a lonely countrywoman. If I should be out
+riding when you come, please await my return.
+
+"Yours very truly,
+
+"EDITH VANSITTART."
+
+She closed the letter with a little cruel smile, and despatched it by
+the hand of a servant. Quite early in the afternoon she put on her
+habit, but did not go straight downstairs, although her horse was at
+the door. She went to the library instead--a small, large-windowed room,
+looking on to Oranje Straat. From a drawer in her writing-table she
+took a key, and examined it closely before slipping it into her pocket.
+It was a new key with the file-marks still upon it.
+
+"A clumsy expedient," she said. "But the end is so desirable that the
+means must not be too scrupulously considered."
+
+She rode down Kazerne Straat and through the wood by the Leyden Road.
+By turning to the left, she soon made her way to the East Dunes, and
+thus describing a circle, rode slowly back towards Scheveningen. She
+knew her way, it appeared, to the malgamite works. Leaving her horse in
+the care of the groom, she walked to the gate of the works, which was
+opened to her by the doorkeeper, after some hesitation. The man was a
+German, and therefore, perhaps, more amenable to Mrs. Vansittart's
+imperious arguments.
+
+"I must see Herr von Holzen without delay," she said. "Show me his
+office."
+
+
+
+The man pointed out the building. "But the Herr Professor is in the
+factory," he said. "It is mixing-day to-day. I will, however, fetch
+him."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked slowly towards the office where Roden had told
+her that the safe stood wherein the prescription and other papers were
+secured. She knew it was mixing-day and that Von Holzen would be in the
+factory. She had sent Roden on a fool's errand to Park Straat to await
+her return there. Was she going to succeed? Would she be left alone for
+a few moments in that little office with the safe? She fingered the key
+in her pocket--a duplicate obtained at some risk, with infinite
+difficulty, by the simple stratagem of borrowing Roden's keys to open
+an old and disused desk one evening in Park Straat. She had conceived
+the plan herself, had carried it out herself, as all must who wish to
+succeed in a human design. She was quite aware that the plan was crude
+and almost childish, but the gain was great, and it is often the
+simplest means that succeed. The secret of the manufacture of
+malgamite--written in black and white--might prove to be Von Holzen's
+death-warrant. Mrs. Vansittart had to fight in her own way or not fight
+at all. She could not understand the slower, surer methods of Mr. Wade
+and Cornish, who appeared to be waiting and wasting time.
+
+The German doorkeeper accompanied her to the office, and opened the
+door after knocking and receiving no answer.
+
+"Will the high-born take a seat?" he said; "I shall not be long."
+
+"There is no need to hurry," said Mrs. Vansittart to herself.
+
+And before the door was quite closed she was on her feet again. The
+office was bare and orderly. Even the waste-paper baskets were empty.
+The books were locked away and the desks were clear. But the small
+green safe stood in the corner. Mrs. Vansittart went towards it, key in
+hand. The key was the right one. It had only been selected by guesswork
+among a number on Roden's bunch. It slipped into the lock and turned
+smoothly, but the door would not move. She tugged and wrenched at the
+handle, then turned it accidentally, and the heavy door swung open.
+There were two drawers at the bottom of the safe which were not locked,
+and contained neatly folded papers. Her fingers were among these in a
+moment. The papers were folded and tied together. Many of the bundles
+were labelled. A long narrow envelope lay at the bottom of the drawer.
+She seized it quickly and turned it over. It bore no address nor any
+superscription. "Ah!" she said breathlessly, and slipped her finger
+within the flap of the envelope. Then she hesitated for a moment, and
+turned on her heel. Von Holzen was standing in the doorway looking at
+her.
+
+They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's
+lips were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet
+eyes were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark
+pupil. Then he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong
+woman, taller than he, or else she would have fallen. Instead, she
+stood her ground, and he, failing to get a grasp at her wrist, stumbled
+sideways against the table. In a moment she had run round it, and again
+they stared at each other, without a word, across the table where Percy
+Roden kept the books of the malgamite works.
+
+A slow smile came to Von Holzen's face, which was colourless always,
+and now a sort of grey. He turned on his heel, walked to the door, and,
+locking it, slipped the key into his pocket. Then he returned to Mrs.
+Vansittart. Neither spoke. No explanation was at that moment necessary.
+He lifted the table bodily, and set it aside against the wall. Then he
+went slowly towards her, holding out his hand for the unaddressed
+envelope, which she held behind her back. He stood for a moment holding
+out his hand while his strong will went out to meet hers. Then he
+sprang at her again and seized her two wrists. The strength of his arms
+was enormous, for he was a deep-chested man, and had been a gymnast.
+The struggle was a short one, and Mrs. Vansittart dropped the envelope
+helplessly from her paralyzed fingers. He picked it up.
+
+"You are the wife of Karl Vansittart," he said in German.
+
+"I am his widow," she replied; and her breath caught, for she was still
+shaken by the physical and moral realization of her absolute
+helplessness in his hands, and she saw in a flash of thought the
+question in his mind as to whether he could afford to let her leave the
+room alive.
+
+"Give me the key with which you opened the safe," he said coldly.
+
+She had replaced the key in her pocket, and now sought it with a
+shaking hand. She gave it to him without a word. Morally she would not
+acknowledge herself beaten, and the bitterness of that moment was the
+self-contempt with which she realized a physical cowardice which she
+had hitherto deemed quite impossible. For the flesh is always surprised
+by its own weakness.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the key critically, turning it over in order to
+examine the workmanship. It was clumsily enough made, and he doubtless
+guessed how she had obtained it. Then he glanced at her as she stood
+breathless with a colourless face and compressed lips.
+
+"I hope I did not hurt you," he said quietly, thereby putting in a dim
+and far-off claim to greatness, for it is hard not to triumph in
+absolute victory.
+
+She shook her head with a twisted smile, and looked down at her hands,
+which were still helpless. There were bands of bright red round the
+white wrists. Her gloves lay on the table. She went towards them and
+numbly took them up. He was impassive still, and his face, which had
+flushed a few moments earlier, slowly regained its usual calm pallor.
+It was this very calmness, perhaps, that suddenly incensed Mrs.
+Vansittart. Or it may have been that she had regained her courage.
+
+"Yes," she cried, with a sort of break in her voice that made it
+strident--"yes. I am Karl Vansittart's wife, and I--cared for him. Do
+you know what that means? But you can't. All that side of life is a
+closed book to such as you. It means that if you had been a hundred
+times in the right and he always in the wrong, I should still have
+believed in him and distrusted you--should still have cared for him and
+hated you. But he was not guilty. He was in the right and you were
+wrong--a thief and a murderer, no doubt. And to screen your paltry
+name, you sacrificed Karl and the happiness of two people who had just
+begun to be happy. It means that I shall not rest until I have made you
+pay for what you have done. I have never lost sight of you--and never
+shall--"
+
+She paused, and looked at his impassive face with a strange, dull
+curiosity as she spoke of the future, as if wondering whether she had a
+future or had reached the end of her life--here, at this moment, in the
+little plank-walled office of the malgamite works. But her courage rose
+steadily. It is only afar off that Death is terrible. When we actually
+stand in his presence, we usually hold up our heads and face him
+quietly enough.
+
+"You may have other enemies," she continued. "I know you have--men,
+too--but none of them will last so long as I shall, none of them is to
+be feared as I am--"
+
+She stopped again in a fury, for he was obviously waiting for her to
+pause for mere want of breath, as if her words could be of no weight.
+
+"If you fear anything on earth," she said, acknowledging is one merit
+despite herself.
+
+"I fear you so little," he answered, going to the door and unlocking
+it, "that you may go."
+
+Her whip lay on the table. He picked it up and handed it to her,
+gravely, without a bow, without a shade of triumph or the smallest
+suspicion of sarcasm. There was perhaps the nucleus of a great man in
+Otto von Holzen, after all, for there was no smallness in his mind. He
+opened the door, and stood aside for her to pass out.
+
+"It is not because you do not fear me--that you let me go," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "But--because you are afraid of Tony Cornish."
+
+And she went out, wondering whether the shot had told or missed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+A COMBINED FORCE.
+
+"Hear, but be faithful to your interest still.
+ Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked to the gate of the malgamite works, thinking
+that Von Holzen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate,
+which the porter threw open on seeing her approach, she turned and
+found that she was alone. Von Holzen was walking quietly back towards
+the factory. He was so busy making his fortune that he could not give
+Mrs. Vansittart more than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went
+towards her horse. Neglect is no balm to the wounds of the defeated.
+
+She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five
+o'clock, and Percy Roden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat.
+It is a woman's business to know what is expected of her. Mrs.
+Vansittart recalled in a very matter-of-fact way the wording of her
+letter to Roden. She brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure
+that her hair was tidy. Then she fell into deep thought, and set her
+mind in a like order for the work that lay before her. A man's deepest
+schemes in love are child's play beside the woman's schemes that meet
+or frustrate his own. Mrs. Vansittart rode rapidly home to Park Straat.
+
+Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the
+drawing-room. She walked slowly upstairs. Some victories are only to be
+won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Vansittart's mind was warped,
+or she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her
+revenge. She was sacrificing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred.
+
+"Ah!" she said to Roden, whose manner betrayed the recollection of her
+invitation to him, "so I have kept you waiting--a minute, perhaps, for
+each day that you have stayed away from Park Straat."
+
+Roden laughed, with a shade of embarrassment, which she was quick to
+detect.
+
+"Is it your sister," she asked, "who has induced you to stay away?"
+
+"Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you," he answered.
+
+"Then it is Herr von Holzen," said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her
+gloves and turning towards the tea-table. She spoke quietly and rather
+indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social
+grade. "I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know
+something of your--what is he?--your foreman. He has probably warned
+you against me. My husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I
+believe, robbed by him. We never knew the man socially, and
+I have always suspected that he bore us some ill feeling on that
+account. You remember--in this room, when you brought him to call soon
+after your works were built--that he referred to having met my husband.
+Doubtless with a view to finding out how much I knew, or if I was in
+reality the wife of Charles Vansittart. But I did not choose to
+enlighten him."
+
+She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were unsteady still,
+and she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discoloration of
+her wrist. She turned rather suddenly, and saw on Roden's face the
+confession that it had been due to Von Holzen's influence that he had
+absented himself from her drawing-room.
+
+"However," she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if
+dismissing a subject of small importance--"however, I suppose Herr von
+Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons
+in that trying condition."
+
+She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit.
+Roden's slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one
+may be sure.
+
+"Tell me your news," she said. "You look tired and ill. It is hard work
+making one's fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before
+you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth
+while to have worked so hard."
+
+"Perhaps what I want is not to be bought," he said, with his eyes on
+the carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game.
+
+"Ah!" she exclaimed. "Then it must be either worthless or priceless."
+
+He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to
+detect the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of
+the tired eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a financier, and
+women have no use for such cleverness, only for the results of it.
+Roden was conscious of making no progress with Mrs. Vansittart, who
+handled him as a cat handles a disabled mouse while watching another
+hole.
+
+"You have been busier than ever, I suppose," she said, "since you have
+had no time to remember your friends."
+
+"Yes," answered Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most
+absorbing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is
+capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Vansittart.
+"Yes, we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day
+now. And we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect
+it. Von Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says
+anything. He may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Vansittart, but he is a
+wonderful man."
+
+"Ah," said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferently; and something in her manner
+made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for
+associating himself with a person who, as she had subtly and
+flatteringly hinted more than once, was far beneath him from a social
+point of view. This desire rendered him less guarded than it was
+perhaps wise to be under the circumstances.
+
+"Yes, he is a very clever man--a genius, I think. He rises to each
+difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of
+his foresight. He has done more than you think in the malgamite works.
+His share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only
+the financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and
+about--money--how it should be handled--that is all."
+
+"You are too modest, I think," said Mrs. Vansittart, gravely. "You
+forget that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in
+London."
+
+"Yes--while Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult
+task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It
+would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders,
+like other people." And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his
+moustache, smiled a somewhat fatuous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a
+woman will love a man the more for being a good man of business.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Vansittart, softly.
+
+"But I should like Von Holzen to have his due," said Roden, rather
+grandly. "He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes that except
+perhaps Cornish."
+
+"Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then?"
+
+"Cornish does his best to upset Von Holzen's plans at every turn. He
+does not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into
+business he invariably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he
+calls scruples. It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to
+it." Roden spoke rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and
+disliked Mrs. Vansittart's attitude towards Cornish. "But he is no
+match for Von Holzen," he continued, "as he will find to his cost. Von
+Holzen is not the sort of man to stand any kind of interference."
+
+
+
+"Ah?" said Mrs. Vansittart again, in the slightly questioning and
+indifferent manner with which she received all defence of Otto von
+Holzen, and which had the effect of urging Roden to further
+explanation.
+
+"He is not a man I should care to cross myself," he said, determined to
+secure Mrs. Vansittart's full attention. "He has the whole of the
+malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty powerful, I can tell
+you. They are a desperate set of fellows; men engaged in a dangerous
+industry do not wear kid gloves."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea-table; for Roden
+rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he
+perhaps suspected.
+
+"Ah," she said, rather more indifferently than before, "I think you
+exaggerate Herr von Holzen's importance in the world."
+
+"I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is
+not careful," retorted Roden, half sullenly.
+
+There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced
+sharply at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid
+of Von Holzen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared.
+There are periods in every man's history when human affairs suddenly
+appear to become unmanageable and the course of events gets beyond any
+sort of control--when the hand at the helm falters, and even the
+managing female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have
+reached such a crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart; charm she never so
+wisely, could not brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in
+no mood for love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humour,
+as a woman can, when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many
+things, both glancing at the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were
+not the first man and woman to go hunting Cupid with the best will in
+the world--only to draw a blank.
+
+At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements.
+Physically and morally he seemed to want tightening up.
+
+"I must go back to the works," he said. "We work late to-night."
+
+"Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been," replied Mrs.
+Vansittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold, with a
+gravity and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, "I do not
+want you to discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand!"
+
+She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he
+went downstairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him
+she rang sharply.
+
+"The brougham," she said to the servant, "at once."
+
+Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa
+des Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely
+obscuring the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight. Indeed,
+nature itself appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the
+town behind and emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the
+countless sparrows in the lime-trees were preparing for the night. The
+trees themselves were shedding an evening odour, while, from canal and
+dyke and ditch, there arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass
+which hangs over the whole of Holland all night.
+
+"The place smells of calamity," said Mrs. Vansittart to herself, as she
+quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the
+Villa des Dunes.
+
+Dorothy was in the garden, and, seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs.
+Vansittart had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she
+usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves.
+
+"Come," she said rapidly, taking Dorothy's hand, and holding it--"come
+to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we
+dined alone together. I do not want to go indoors. I am nervous,
+I suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in
+the dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants,
+so I came to you."
+
+"I think there is going to be a thunderstorm," said Dorothy.
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sudden laugh. "I knew you would say
+that. Because you are modern and practical--or, at all events, you show
+a practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that
+much for the modern girl, at all events--she keeps her head. As to her
+heart--well, perhaps she has not got one."
+
+"Perhaps not," admitted Dorothy.
+
+They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a
+weeping-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs.
+Vansittart glanced at her companion, and gave a little, low, wise
+laugh.
+
+
+"I did well to come to you," she said, "for you have not many words.
+You have a sense of humour--that saving sense which so few people
+possess--and I suspect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic,
+which is still there, but in a modified degree. One is always more
+nervous for one's friends than for one's self. Is it not so? It is for
+Tony Cornish that I fear."
+
+Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short
+silence.
+
+"I do not know why he stays in Holland, and I wish he would go home,"
+continued Mrs. Vansittart. "It is unreasoning, I know, and foolish, but
+I am convinced that he is running into danger." She stopped suddenly,
+and laid her hand upon Dorothy's; for she had caught many foreign ways
+and gestures. "Listen," she said, in a lower tone. "It is useless for
+you and me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime,
+and Tony Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected
+that. I know Otto von Holzen. He killed my husband. He is a most
+dangerous man. He is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from
+here, and he does not understand the sort of person he is dealing with.
+One does not frighten persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man
+or woman. I have made Tony promise not to leave his room to-day. For
+to-morrow I cannot answer. You understand?"
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy, with a sudden light in her eyes, "I
+understand."
+
+"Your brother must take care of himself. I care nothing for Lord
+Ferriby, or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish,
+for whom I have an affection, for he was part of my past life--when I
+was happy. As for the malgamiters, they and their works may--go hang!"
+And Mrs. Vansittart snapped her fingers. "Do you know Major White?" she
+asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; I have seen him once."
+
+"So have I--only once. But for a woman once is often enough--is it not
+so?--to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here."
+
+"He is coming," answered Dorothy. "I think he is coming to-morrow. When
+I saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe
+he wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking
+him to come."
+
+"Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent
+for reinforcements. When does Major White arrive--in the morning?"
+
+"No; not till the evening."
+
+"Then he comes by Flushing," said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. "You
+are thinking of something. What is it?"
+
+"I was wondering how I could see some of the malgamite workers
+to-morrow. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may
+be expected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple
+to make use of them."
+
+ "Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, "you have guessed that, too. I have more
+than guessed it--I know it. You must see these men to-morrow."
+
+"I will," answered Dorothy, simply.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. "Yes," she said, "I came to
+the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other,
+perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good night and come to lunch with
+me to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+GRATITUDE.
+
+"On se gu�rit de la bienfaisance par la connaissance de ceux qu'on
+oblige."
+
+
+"Can you tell me if there is a moon to-night?" Mrs. Vansittart asked a
+porter in the railway station at The Hague.
+
+The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was
+a serious one.
+
+"I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady," he answered, with his
+hand at the peak of his cap.
+
+It was past nine o'clock, and Mrs. Vansittart had been waiting nearly
+half an hour for the Flushing train. Her carriage was walking slowly up
+and down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station.
+She had taken a ticket in order to gain access to the platform, and was
+almost alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled backwards and
+forwards between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the
+great arch of the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month
+of June still lingered, but the twilight was at hand. The Flushing
+train was late to-night of all nights; and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her
+foot with impatience. What was worse was Dorothy Roden's lateness.
+Dorothy and Mrs. Vansittart, like two generals on the eve of a battle,
+had been exchanging hurried notes all day; and Dorothy had promised to
+meet Mrs. Vansittart at the station on the arrival of the train.
+
+"The moon is rising now, my lady--a half-moon," said the porter
+approaching with that leisureliness which characterizes railway porters
+between trains.
+
+"Why does your stupid train not come?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, with
+unreasoning anger.
+
+"It has been signalled, my lady; a few minutes now."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief, and turned on her heel.
+She had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw
+Dorothy coming up the slope to the platform. At last matters were
+taking a turn for the better--except, indeed, Dorothy's face, which was
+set and white.
+
+"I have found out something," she said at once, and speaking quickly
+but steadily. "It is for to-night, between half-past nine and ten."
+
+She had her watch in her hand, and compared it quickly with the station
+clock as she spoke.
+
+"I have secured Uncle Ben," she said--all the ridicule of the name
+seemed to have vanished long ago. "He is drunk, and therefore cunning.
+It is only when he is sober that he is stupid. I have him in a cab
+downstairs, and have told your man to watch him. I have been to Mr.
+Cornish's rooms again, and he has not come in. He has not been in since
+morning, and they do not know where he is. No one knows where he is."
+
+Dorothy's lip quivered for a moment, and she held it with her teeth.
+Mrs. Vansittart touched her arm lightly with her gloved fingers--a
+strange, quick, woman's gesture.
+
+"I went upstairs to his rooms," continued Dorothy. "It is no good
+thinking of etiquette now or pretending----"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never
+finished.
+
+"I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket.
+One in an uneducated hand--perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von
+Holzen's writing."
+
+"Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing--addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at
+Scheveningen?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then Otto von Holzen knows where Tony is staying, at all events. We
+have learnt something. You have kept the envelopes?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+They both turned at the rumble of the train outside the station. The
+great engine came clanking in over the points, its lamp glaring like
+the eye of some monster.
+
+"Provided Major White is in the train," muttered Mrs. Vansittart,
+tapping on the pavement with her foot. "If he is not in the train,
+Dorothy?"
+
+"Then we must go alone."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down.
+
+
+"You are a brave woman," she said thoughtfully.
+
+But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small
+things as well as in great. They saw him pushing his way patiently
+through the crowd of hotel porters and others who had advice or their
+services to offer him. Then he saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and
+recognized them.
+
+"Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it
+straight to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere."
+
+Still Major White was only in his normal condition of mild and patient
+surprise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart once, and Dorothy as often.
+He did exactly as he was told without asking one of those hundred
+questions which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more
+women under such circumstances, and followed the ladies out of the
+crowd.
+
+"We must talk here," said Mrs. Vansittart. "One cannot do so in a
+carriage in the streets of The Hague."
+
+Major White bowed gravely, and looked from one to the other. He was
+rather travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat.
+
+"Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to
+the malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question,
+however," said Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be
+impatient with this placid man. "He has earned the enmity of Otto von
+Holzen--a man who will stop at nothing--and the malgamiters are being
+raised against him by Von Holzen. Our information is very vague, but we
+are almost certain that an attempt is to be made on Tony's life
+to-night between half-past nine and ten. You understand?" Mrs.
+Vansittart almost stamped her foot.
+
+"Oh yes," answered White, looking at the station clock. "Twenty
+minutes' time."
+
+"We have the information from one of the malgamiters themselves, who
+knows the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage
+outside the station."
+
+"How tipsy?" asked Major White; and both his hearers shrugged their
+shoulders.
+
+"How can we tell you that?" snapped Mrs. Vansittart; and Major White
+dropped his glass from his eye.
+
+"Where is your brother?" he said, turning to Dorothy. He was evidently
+rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick-spoken person not likely
+to have patience with a slow man.
+
+"He has gone to Utrecht," answered Dorothy. "And Mr. von Holzen is not
+at the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a
+lucky chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here."
+
+White looked at Dorothy thoughtfully, and something in his gaze made
+her change colour.
+
+"Let me see this man," he said, moving towards the exit.
+
+"He is in that carriage," said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet
+corner of the station yard. "You must be quick. We have only a quarter
+of an hour now. He is an Englishman."
+
+White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, and
+closed the door after him. In a few moments he emerged again.
+
+"Tell the man to drive to a chemist's," he said to Mrs. Vansittart.
+"The fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will
+get more. Follow in your carriage--you and Miss Roden."
+
+It was Major White's turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart
+meekly obeyed, though White's movements were so leisurely as to madden
+her.
+
+At the chemist's shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared
+to have some language in common with the druggist, for he presently
+returned to the carriage, carrying a tumbler. After a moment he went to
+the window of Mrs. Vansittart's neat brougham.
+
+"I must bring him in here," he said. "You have a pair of horses which
+look as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station
+on the Dunes, wherever that may be."
+
+Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben, whom he brought by one arm, in a
+dislocated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the major's
+long stride.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart's coachman must have received very decided orders, for
+he skirted the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from the
+streets into the quiet of the Wood, which was dark and deserted. Here,
+in a sandy and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The
+carriage swayed and bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time
+to time Major White shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his
+strenuous treatment.
+
+At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the
+little bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
+pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
+dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
+hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye,
+and looked round him with a measuring glance.
+
+"This place will be as light as day," he said, "when the moon rises
+from behind those trees."
+
+He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low
+voice. The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not
+stand without assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of
+heroic measures. He appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben
+pointed from time to time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When
+his mind, muddled with malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the
+occasion, Major White shook him like a sack. After a few minutes'
+conversation, Ben broke down completely, and sat against a sand-bank to
+weep. Major White left him there, and went towards the ladies.
+
+"Will you tell your man," he said to Mrs. Vansittart, "to drive back to
+the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?" He
+paused, looking dubiously from one to the other. "And you and Miss
+Roden had better go back with him and stay in the carriage."
+
+"No," said Dorothy, quietly.
+
+"Oh no!" added Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration
+for the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension.
+
+"It seems," he said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy
+stones, "that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly
+ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to
+work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the
+works at ten o'clock, when Roden is at Utrecht, and Von Holzen is out.
+There is no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to
+lie in ambush in a hollow of the Dunes, and knock him on the head about
+half a mile from here north-east." And Major White paused in this great
+conversational effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his
+watch-chain.
+
+The two women waited patiently.
+
+"Fine place, these Dunes," said the major, after a pause. "Could
+conceal three thousand men between here and Scheveningen."
+
+"But it is not a question of hiding soldiers," said Mrs. Vansittart,
+sharply, with a movement of the head indicative of supreme contempt.
+
+"No," admitted White. "Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing
+here where everybody can see us. I'll fetch our friend. Think he'll
+sleep if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse."
+
+"But haven't you any plans?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, in despair. "What
+are you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony
+Cornish? Surely you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis."
+
+"Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know," answered White, soothingly,
+as he moved away towards Uncle Ben. "But I think I know how this
+business ought to be managed. Come along--hide ourselves."
+
+He led the way across the dunes, dragging Uncle Ben by one arm, and
+keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent
+sand.
+
+Once Major White paused and looked back. "Don't talk," he said, holding
+up a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning, which he must
+have learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a
+bogey in the chimney.
+
+Once or twice he consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his
+compass. There was a certain skill in his attitude and demeanour, as if
+he knew exactly what he was about. Mrs. Vansittart had a hundred
+questions to ask him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly
+over the distant trees and flooded all the sand-hills with light. Major
+White halted his little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben
+in whispers. Then bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in
+their hiding-place, and went away by himself. He climbed almost to the
+summit of a neighbouring mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face
+uplifted, as if smelling something. Like many short-sighted persons, he
+had a keen scent. In a few minutes he came back again.
+
+"I have found them," he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy.
+"Smelt 'em--like sealing-wax. Eleven of them--waiting there for
+Cornish." And he smiled with a sort of boyish glee.
+
+"What are you going to do?" whispered Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+
+"Thump them," he answered, and presently went back to his post of
+observation.
+
+Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side
+waiting in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from
+the sea. Dorothy shivered. They could hear certain notes of certain
+instruments in the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles
+away. It was strange to be within sound of such evidences of
+civilization, and yet in such a lonely spot--strange to reflect that
+eleven men were waiting within a few yards of them to murder one. And
+yet they could safely have carried out their intention, and have
+scraped a hole in the sand to hide his body, in the certainty that it
+would never be found; for these dunes are a miniature desert of Sahara,
+where nothing bids men leave the beaten paths, where certain hollows
+have probably never been trodden by the foot of man, and where the
+ever-drifting sand slowly accumulates--a very abomination of
+desolation.
+
+At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow
+of the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy
+ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White.
+
+Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the
+malgamiters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden
+from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them.
+
+Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittart's arm, and pointed silently in the
+direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the
+silvery sand-hills. It was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for
+him.
+
+Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere
+habit acquired among his men, he moistened the tips of his fingers at
+his lips.
+
+The malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a
+position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which
+Cornish must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a
+mound, and evidently reporting progress to his companions below. When
+Cornish was within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up
+the bank, and lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his
+comrades. He followed this vigorous attack by charging down into the
+confused mass. In a few moments the malgamiters streamed away across
+the sand-hills like a pack of hounds, though pursued and not pursuing.
+They left some of their number on the sand behind them, for White was a
+hard hitter.
+
+"Give it to them, Tony!" White cried, with a ring of exultation in his
+voice. "Knock 'em down as they come!"
+
+For there was only one path, and the malgamiters had to run the
+gauntlet of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough
+as they passed, selecting the big ones, and letting the others go free.
+He knew them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention
+readily enough.
+
+It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it,
+breathless and eager.
+
+"Oh, I wish I were a man!" exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched
+fists.
+
+They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path.
+White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round
+his arm with his other hand and his teeth.
+
+"It is nothing," he said. "One of the devils had a knife. Must get my
+sleeve mended to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+A REINFORCEMENT.
+
+"Prends moy telle que je suy."
+
+
+When Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning,
+he found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun
+and the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the verandah
+made him look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by
+sunshine and trees, was Marguerite Wade, in a white dress, with demure
+lips, and the complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of
+youth--of that spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the
+strings of older hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which
+is really and honestly worth the living.
+
+Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major White's left
+eyebrow quivered for a moment in indication of his usual mild surprise
+at life and its changing surface.
+
+"Feeling pretty--bobbish?" inquired Marguerite, earnestly.
+
+White's eyebrow went right up and his glass fell.
+
+"Fairly bobbish, thank you," he answered, looking at her with
+stupendous gravity.
+
+"You look all right, you know."
+
+"You should never judge by appearances," said White, with a fatherly
+severity.
+
+Marguerite pursed up her lips, and looked his stalwart frame up and
+down in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential
+manner, like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all
+the truth and more than the truth.
+
+"You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I
+knew you were in the hotel; saw your boots outside your door last
+night; knew they must be yours. You went to bed very early."
+
+"I have two pairs of boots," replied the major, darkly.
+
+"Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote
+for him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came.
+I told you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and
+that seems to be precisely where you are."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And so I have come over, and papa and I are going to put things
+straight."
+
+"I shouldn't if I were you."
+
+"Shouldn't what?" inquired Marguerite.
+
+"Shouldn't put other people's affairs straight. It does not pay,
+especially if other people happen to be up a gum-tree--make yourself
+all sticky, you know."
+
+Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. "Ah!" she said. "That's what--is
+it?"
+
+"That's what," admitted Major White.
+
+"That is the difference, I suppose, between a man and a woman," said
+Marguerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid
+for two. "A man looks on at things going--well, to the dogs--and smokes
+and thinks it isn't his business. A woman thinks the whole world is her
+business."
+
+"So it is, in a sense--it is her doing, at all events."
+
+Marguerite had turned to beckon to the waiter, and she paused to look
+back over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes.
+
+"Ah!" she said mystically.
+
+Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him "Kellner," and
+speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his
+native tongue.
+
+"I have told him," she explained to White, "to bring your little
+coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to
+this table."
+
+"So I understood."
+
+"Ah! Then you know German?" inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful
+glance.
+
+"I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German."
+
+Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver
+basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so
+different and taste so much alike.
+
+"Seems to me," she said confidentially, "that you know more than you
+appear to know."
+
+"Not such a fool as I look, in fact."
+
+"That is about the size of it," admitted Marguerite, gravely. "Tony
+always says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he
+is right."
+
+And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across
+the little table.
+
+"Tony often is right," said Major White.
+
+There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small
+coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt.
+The privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a
+certain pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.
+
+"Why is Tony so fond of The Hague? Who is Mrs. Vansittart?" she asked,
+without looking up.
+
+Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few minutes
+before answering.
+
+"Two questions don't make an answer."
+
+"Not these two questions?" asked Marguerite, with a sudden laugh.
+
+"No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, and what they usually call
+'charming,' I believe. She is clever, yes, very clever, and she was, I
+suppose, fond of Vansittart; and that is the whole story, I take it."
+
+"Not exactly a cheery story."
+
+"No true stories are," returned the major, gravely.
+
+But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdom--that huge wisdom of life
+as seen from the threshold--she did not believe Mrs. Vansittart's
+story.
+
+"Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the
+end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps
+Mrs. Vansittart--"
+
+
+"Won't do that," said the major, staring in a stupid way out of the
+window with vacant, short-sighted eyes. "Not even if Tony suggested
+it--which he won't do."
+
+"You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittart--that
+is what _you_ mean," said Marguerite, condescendingly. "Then why does
+he stay in The Hague?"
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence,
+broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for
+more bread and more butter. She looked at her companion once or twice,
+and it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must
+be as dense as he looked. It is a mistake that many of her sex have
+made regarding men.
+
+"Do you know Miss Roden?" she asked suddenly.
+"I have heard a good deal about her from Joan."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is she pretty?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very pretty?" persisted Marguerite.
+
+"Yes," replied the major.
+
+And they continued their breakfast in silence.
+
+Marguerite appeared to have something to think about. Major White was
+in the habit of stating that he never thought, and certainly
+appearances bore him out.
+
+"Your father is late," he said at length.
+
+"Yes," answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. "Because he was afraid to
+ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that
+Continental chambermaids always burst into your room if you ring the
+bell, whether the door is locked or not. He is nothing if not
+respectable, poor old dear--would give points to any bishop in the
+land."
+
+As she spoke her father came into the room, looking, as his daughter
+had stated eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major
+White, and seemed pleased to see him. The major was, in truth, a man
+after his own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade
+belonged to a solid generation that liked the andante of life to be
+played in good heavy chords, and looked with suspicious eyes upon
+brilliancy of execution or lightness of touch.
+
+"I have had a note from Cornish," he said, "who suggests a meeting at
+this hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side
+has, it appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to The Hague."
+There had in Mr. Wade's life usually been that "other side," which he
+had treated with a good, honest respect so long as they proved
+themselves worthy of it; but which he crushed the moment they forgot
+themselves. For there was in this British banker a vast spirit of
+honest, open antagonism by which he and his likes have built up a
+scattered empire on this planet. "At three o'clock," he concluded,
+lifting the cover of a silver dish which Marguerite had sent back to
+the kitchen awaiting her father's arrival. "And what will you do, my
+dear?" he said, turning to her.
+
+"I?" replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. "I shall take a
+carriage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes to see Dorothy Roden. I
+have a note for her from Joan."
+
+And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way
+diminished by the knowledge that the "other side" were about to take
+action.
+
+At three o'clock the carriage was awaiting Marguerite at the door of
+the hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking
+questions and absolutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen
+by the side of the "Queen's Canal." When at length she turned to get
+in, Tony Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for
+The Hague is the shadiest city in the world, with forest trees growing
+amid its great houses.
+
+"Ah!" said Marguerite, holding out her hand. "You see, I have come
+across to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have
+rather a spree."
+
+"The spree," replied Cornish, with his light laugh, "has already
+begun."
+
+Marguerite drove away towards The Hague Wood, and disappeared among the
+transparent green shadows of that wonderful forest. The man had been
+instructed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden
+Road, making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest
+outskirts of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of
+a man sitting upon a bench at the roadside reading a sheet of paper.
+
+"That," she said to herself, "is the Herr Professor--but I cannot
+remember his name."
+
+Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed, a woman usually
+stops an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed
+to let such bygones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive
+back again. The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed.
+He had the air of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the
+solitude of his position and the poetic surroundings which he had
+selected. A German, be it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of
+the beauties of nature, and would rather drink his beer before a fine
+outlook than in a comfortable chair indoors. When Marguerite returned,
+this man looked up again with the absorbed air of one repeating
+something in his mind. When he perceived that she was undoubtedly
+coming towards himself, he stood up and took off his hat. He was a
+small, square-built man, with upright hair turning to grey, and a
+quiet, thoughtful, clean-shaven face. His attitude, and indeed his
+person, dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the
+great Napoleon. His measuring glance--as if the eyes were weighing the
+face it looked upon--distinctly suggested his great prototype.
+
+"You do not remember me, Herr Professor," said Marguerite, holding out
+her hand with a frank laugh. "You have forgotten Dresden and the
+chemistry classes at Fr�ulein Weber's?"
+
+"No, Fr�ulein; I remember those classes," the professor answered, with
+a grave bow.
+
+"And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the
+something of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein
+Herr."
+
+"You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fr�ulein. Yes, I
+remember now--Fr�ulein Wade."
+
+"Yes, I am Marguerite Wade," she answered, looking at him with a little
+frown, "but I can't remember your name. You were always Herr Professor.
+And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry
+classes, you know; that was part of the--er--trick. We called water H2
+or something like that. We called you J.H.U, Herr Professor."
+
+"What does that mean, Fr�ulein?"
+
+"Jolly hard up," returned Marguerite, with a laugh which suddenly gave
+place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confidential gravity. "You
+were poor then, mein Herr."
+
+"I have always been poor, Fr�ulein, until now."
+
+But Marguerite's mind had already flown to other things. She was
+looking at him again with a frown of concentration.
+
+"I am beginning to remember your name," she said.
+
+"Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite
+forgotten both your face and your name, Herr ... Herr ... von Holz"--she
+broke off, and stepped back from him--"von Holzen," she said slowly. "Then
+you are the malgamite man?"
+
+"Yes, Fr�ulein," he answered, with his grave smile; "I am the malgamite
+man."
+
+Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of
+the Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that
+came near him, against whom her own father and Tony Cornish and
+Major White and Mrs. Vansittart had been able to do nothing--who in
+face of all opposition continued calmly to make malgamite, and sell it
+daily to the world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of
+men's lives.
+
+"And you, Fr�ulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade, the banker?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again,
+standing before her master.
+
+"And why are you in The Hague?"
+
+"Oh," replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her
+life, "to enlarge our minds, mein Herr." She was looking at the paper
+he held in his hand, and he saw the direction of her glance. In
+response, he laughed quietly, and held it out towards her.
+
+"Yes," he said, "you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the
+prescription for the manufacture of malgamite."
+
+She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual
+audacity, she opened it and began to read.
+
+"Ah," she said, "it is in Hebrew."
+
+Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which
+she gave to him. She was not afraid of the man--but she was very near
+to fear.
+
+"And I am sitting here, quietly under the trees, Fr�ulein," he said,
+"learning it by heart."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT.
+
+"Un homme s�rieux est celui qui se croit regard�."
+
+
+When Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden's earnest desire that he
+should go to The Hague, he was conscious of conferring a distinct
+favour upon the Low Countries.
+
+"It is not a place one would choose to go to at this time of year," he
+said to a friend at the club. "In the winter, it is different; for the
+season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals."
+
+One of the numerous advantages attached to an hereditary title is the
+certainty that a hearer of some sort or another will always be
+forthcoming. A commoner finds himself snubbed or quietly abandoned so
+soon as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and platitudes is
+sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready
+and willing to be bored by a lord. A high-class club is, moreover, a
+very mushroom-bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have traveled
+quite a distance down the road of life, without finding out that it is
+bordered on either side by a series of small events not worth
+commenting upon, meet to discuss trivialities.
+
+"Truth is," said his lordship to one of these persons, "this Malgamite
+scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and
+carries with it certain responsibilities--yes, certain responsibilities."
+
+And he assumed a grave air of importance almost amounting to worry. For
+Lord Ferriby did not know that a worried look is an almost certain
+indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the
+greatest responsibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the
+burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world.
+
+It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at
+all uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one
+of the advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and
+willing to serve his party without too minute a scruple. For if the
+king can do no wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity
+from criticism, and those who have allowance made to them must
+inevitably learn to make allowance for themselves. Lord Ferriby was, in
+a word, too self-satisfied to harbour any doubts respecting his own
+conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of course, indolence in disguise.
+
+It was easy enough for Lord Ferriby to persuade himself that Cornish
+was wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most
+gentlemanly manner possible, paid a cheque, not to Lord Ferriby direct,
+but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus
+upon the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There
+are many people in the world who will accept money so long as their
+delicate susceptibilities are not offended by an actual sight of the
+cheque.
+
+"Anthony Cornish," said Lord Ferriby, pulling down his waistcoat, "like
+many men who have had neither training nor experience, does not quite
+understand the ethics of commerce."
+
+His lordship, like others, seemed to understand these to mean that a
+man may take anything that his neighbour is fool enough to part with.
+
+Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because, in the great
+march of social progress, she had passed on from charity to sanitation,
+and was convinced that the mortality among the malgamiters, which had
+been more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was entirely due
+to the negligence of the victims in not using an old disinfectant
+served up in artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash
+under another name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform
+greater sanitary wonders, because the world places faith in a new name,
+and faith is still the greatest healer of human ills.
+
+Joan, therefore, proposed to carry to The Hague the glad tidings of the
+sanitary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering
+world under the name of "Nuxine," in small bottles, at the price of one
+shilling and a penny halfpenny. The penny halfpenny, no doubt,
+represented the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon
+securing the stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the
+manufacturer's pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joan's world
+to smell of "Nuxine," which could also be had in the sweetest little
+blue tabloids, to place in the wardrobe and among one's clean clothes.
+Joan had given Major White a box of these tabloids, which gift had been
+accepted with becoming gravity. Indeed, the major seemed never to tire
+of hearing Joan's exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as
+she urged him to use "Nuxine" in its various forms, and it was only
+when he heard that cigar-holders made of "Nuxine" absorbed all the
+deleterious properties of tobacco that his stout heart failed him.
+
+"Yes," he pleaded, "but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue
+cigar-holder, you know."
+
+And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none
+other than "Nuxine" dentifrice.
+
+Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to The Hague, his lordship in
+the full conviction (enjoyed by so many useless persons) that his
+presence was in itself of beneficial effect upon the course of events,
+and Joan with her "Nuxine" and, in a minor degree now, her
+"Malgamiters" and her "Haberdashers' Assistants." Lady Ferriby
+preferred to remain at Cambridge Terrace, chiefly because it was
+cheaper, and also because the cook required a holiday, and, with a
+kitchen-maid only, she could indulge in her greatest pleasure--a
+useless economy. The cook refused to starve her fellow-servants, while
+the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written character in the future, did as
+her ladyship bade her--hashing and mincing in a manner quite
+irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer money.
+
+Major White met the travellers at The Hague station, and Joan, who had
+had some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was
+conscious for the first time of a sense of orderliness and rest in the
+presence of the stout soldier, who seemed to walk heavily over
+difficulties when they arose.
+
+"Eh--er," began his lordship, as they walked down the platform, "have
+you seen anything of Roden?"
+
+For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred a man to b keenly observant, and
+had as yet failed to detect Von Holzen behind and overshadowing his
+partner in the Malgamite scheme.
+
+"No--cannot say I have," replied the major.
+
+He had never discussed the malgamite affairs with Lord Ferriby.
+Discussion was, indeed, a pastime in which the major never indulged.
+His position in the matter was clearly enough defined, but he had no
+intention of explaining why it was that he ranged himself stolidly on
+Cornish's side in the differences that had arisen.
+
+Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a smouldering antagonism, but knew
+the major sufficiently well not to fear an outbreak of hostilities. Men
+who will face opposition may be divided into two classes--the one
+taking its stand upon a conscious rectitude, the other half-hiding with
+the cheap and transparent cunning of the ostrich. Many men, also, are
+in the fortunate condition of believing themselves to be invariably
+right unless they are told quite plainly that they are wrong. And there
+was nobody to tell Lord Ferriby this. Cornish, with a sort of respect
+for the head of the family--a regard for the office irrespective of its
+holder--was so far from wishing to convince his uncle of error that he
+voluntarily relinquished certain strong points in his position rather
+than strike a blow that would inevitably reach Lord Ferriby, though
+directed towards Roden or Von Holzen.
+
+Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were
+in The Hague.
+
+"A worthy man--a very worthy man," he said abstractedly; for he looked
+upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain
+minds by uncompromising honesty.
+
+The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared
+for them. There were flowers in Joan's room, which her maid said she
+had rearranged, so awkwardly had they been placed in the vase. The
+Wades, it appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not
+returning to lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that
+meal at Mrs. Vansittart's.
+
+"I think," said Lord Ferriby, "that I shall go down to the works."
+
+"Yes, do," answered White, with an expressionless countenance.
+
+"Perhaps you will accompany me?" suggested Joan's father.
+
+"No--think not. Can't hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like to
+see the Palace in the Wood."
+
+Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the malgamite works, and
+murmured the word "Nuxine," without, however, much enthusiasm; but
+White happened to remember that it was mixing-day. So Lord Ferriby went
+off alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the
+first; for White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did
+Cornish.
+
+The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no
+doubt, satisfactory enough, for the manufacture of malgamite had been
+proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Holzen had, as he told
+Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-master.
+He was not going to be poor again. The grey carts had been passing up
+and down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or
+other of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house,
+a gleam of anger to Mrs. Vansittart's eyes.
+
+"The scoundrels!" she muttered. "The scoundrels! Why does not Tony
+act?"
+
+But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's
+determination not to be frustrated, could not act--for Dorothy's sake.
+
+A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party
+assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and
+Mr. Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in
+this city of large and spotless windows. Dorothy and Cornish were
+talking together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was
+supposed to be looking at a book of photographs.
+
+"There goes a consignment of men's lives," said Mrs. Vansittart to her
+companion.
+
+"A human life, madam," answered the banker, "like all else on earth,
+varies much in value." For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of
+Englishmen which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak
+its good actions by the assumption of an unworthy motive. And who shall
+say that this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us
+has not a few friends and relations who can only have been created as a
+solemn warning?
+
+As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined
+them, slipping her hand within her father's arm with that air of
+protection which she usually assumed towards him. She was gay and
+lively, as she ever was, and Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her more than
+once with a sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always
+understand Marguerite or her English, which was essentially modern.
+
+They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly
+drew them back.
+
+"What is it?" asked Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"It is Lord Ferriby," replied Marguerite.
+
+And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great
+man drive past in his hired carriage. "He has recently bought Park
+Straat," commented Marguerite.
+
+And his lordship's condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that
+the street, if not the whole city, belonged to him.
+
+Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb in the direction in which Lord
+Ferriby was driving.
+
+"Where is he going?" he asked bluntly.
+
+"To the malgamite works," replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance.
+And Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first.
+
+"I asked Major White," she said, "to lunch with us to-day, but he was
+pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see
+them installed at their hotel."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Wade.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy,
+allowed some moments to elapse before she again spoke.
+
+"Major White," she then observed, "does not accompany Lord Ferriby to
+the malgamite works."
+
+"Major White," replied Marguerite, demurely, "has other fish to fry."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+CLEARING THE AIR
+
+"It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be entirely good."
+
+
+Percy Roden, who had been to Utrecht and Antwerp, arrived home on the
+evening of the day that saw Lord Ferriby's advent to The Hague. Though
+the day had been fine enough, the weather broke up at sunset, and great
+clouds chased the sun towards the west. Then the rain came suddenly and
+swept across the plains in a slanting fury. A cold wind from the
+south-east followed hard upon the heavy clouds, and night came in a
+chaos of squall and beating rain. Roden was drenched in his passage
+from the carriage to the Villa des Dunes, which, being a summer
+residence, had not been provided with a carriage-drive across the dunes
+from the road. He looked at his sister with tired eyes when she met him
+in the entrance-hall. He was worn and thinner than she had seen him in
+the days of his adversity, for Percy Roden, like his partner, had made
+several false starts upon the road to fortune before he got well away.
+Like many--like, indeed, nearly all--who have to try again, he had
+lightened himself of a scruple or so each time he turned back.
+Prosperity, however, seems to kill as many as adversity. Abundant
+wealth is a vexation of spirit to-day as surely as it was in the time
+of that wise man who, having tried it, said that a stranger eateth it,
+and it is vanity.
+
+"Beastly night," said Roden, and that was all. He had been to Antwerp
+on banking business, and had that sleepless look which brings a glitter
+to the eyes. This was a man handling great sums of money. "Von Holzen
+been here to-day?" he asked, when he had changed his clothes, and they
+were seated at the dinner-table.
+
+"No," answered Dorothy, with her eyes on his plate.
+
+He was eating little, and drank only mineral water from a stone bottle.
+He was like an athlete in training, though the strain he sought to meet
+was mental and not physical. He shivered more than once, and glanced
+sharply at the door when the maid happened to leave it open.
+
+When Dorothy went to the drawing-room she lighted the fire, which was
+ready laid, and of wood. Although it was nearly midsummer, the air was
+chilly, and the rain beat against the thin walls of the house.
+
+"I think it probable," Roden had said, before she left the dining-room,
+"that Von Holzen will come in this evening."
+
+She sat down before the fire, which burnt briskly, and looked into it
+with thoughtful, clever grey eyes. Percy thought it probable that Von
+Holzen would come to the Villa des Dunes this evening. Would he come?
+For Percy knew nothing of the organized attempt on Cornish's life which
+she herself had frustrated. He seemed to know nothing of the grim and
+silent antagonism that existed between the two men, shutting his eyes
+to their movements, which were like the movements of chess-players that
+the onlooker sees but does not understand. Dorothy knew that Von Holzen
+was infinitely cleverer than her brother. She knew, indeed, that he was
+cleverer than most men. With the quickness of her sex, she had long ago
+divined the source and basis of his strength. He was indifferent to
+women--who formed no part of his life, who entered in no way into his
+plans or ambitions. Being a woman, she should, theoretically, have
+disliked and despised him for this. As a matter of fact, the
+characteristic commanded her respect.
+
+She knew that her brother was not in Von Holzen's confidence. It was
+probable that no man on earth had ever come within measurable distance
+of that. He would, in all likelihood, hear nothing of the attempt to
+kill Cornish, and Cornish himself would be the last to mention it. For
+she knew that her lover was a match for Von Holzen, and more than a
+match. She had never doubted that. It was a part of her creed. A woman
+never really loves a man until she has made him the object of a creed.
+And it is only the man himself who can--and in the long run usually
+does--make it impossible for her to adhere to her belief.
+
+She was still sitting and thinking over the fire when her brother came
+into the room.
+
+"Ah!" he said at the sight of the fire, and came forward, holding out
+his hands to the blaze. He looked down at his sister with glittering
+and unsteady eyes. He was in a dangerous humour--a humour for
+explanations and admissions--to which weak natures sometimes give way.
+And, looking at the matter practically and calmly, explanations and
+admissions are better left--to the hereafter. But Von Holzen saved him
+by ringing the front-door bell at that moment.
+
+The professor came into the room a minute later. He stood in the
+doorway, and bowed in the stiff German way to Dorothy. With Roden he
+exchanged a curt nod. His hair was glued to his temples by the rain,
+which gleamed on his face.
+
+"It is an abominable night," he said, coming forward. "Ach, Fr�ulein,
+please do not leave us--and the fire," he added; for Dorothy had risen.
+"I merely came to make sure that he had arrived safely home." He took
+the chair offered to him by Roden, and sat on it without bringing it
+forward. He had but little of that self-assurance which is so highly
+cultivated to-day as to be almost offensive. "There are, of course,
+matters of business," he said, "which can wait till to-morrow.
+To-night you are tired." He looked at Roden as a doctor may look at a
+patient. "Is it not so, Fr�ulein?" he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Except one or two--which we may discuss now."
+
+Dorothy turned and glanced at him. He was looking at her, and their
+eyes met for a moment. He seemed to see something in her face that made
+him thoughtful, for he remained silent for some time, while he wiped
+the rain from his face with his pocket-handkerchief. It was a pale,
+determined face, which could hardly fail to impress those with whom he
+came in contact as the face of a strong man.
+
+"Lord Ferriby has been at the works to-day," he said; and then, with a
+gesture of the hands and a shrug, he described Lord Ferriby as a
+nonentity. "He went through the works, and looked over your books. I
+wrote out a sort of certificate of his satisfaction with both, and--he
+signed it."
+
+Roden was leaning forward over the fire with a cigarette between his
+lips. He nodded shortly. "Good," he said.
+
+"Yesterday," continued Von Holzen, "I met an old acquaintance--a Miss
+Wade--one of the young ladies of a Pensionnat at Dresden, in which I
+taught at one time. She is a daughter of the banker Wade, and told me,
+reluctantly, that she is at The Hague with her father--a friend of
+Cornish's. This morning I took a walk on the sands at Scheveningen;
+there was a large fat man, among others, bathing at the Northern
+bathing-station. It was Major White. It is a regular gathering of the
+clans. I saw a German paper-maker--a big man in the trade--on the
+Kursaal terrace this morning. It may be a mere chance, and it may not."
+
+As he spoke he had withdrawn from his pocket a folded paper, which he
+was fingering thoughtfully. Dorothy, who knew that she had by her looks
+unwittingly warned him, made no motion to go now. He would say nothing
+that he did not deliberately intend for her ears as much as for her
+brother's. Von Holzen opened the paper slowly, and looked at it as if
+every line of it was familiar. It was a sheet of ordinary foolscap
+covered with minute figures and writing.
+
+"It is the Vorschrift, the--how do you say?--prescription for the
+malgamite, and there are several in The Hague at this moment who want
+it, and some who would not be too scrupulous in their methods of
+procuring it. It is for this that they are gathering--here in The
+Hague."
+
+Roden turned in his leisurely way, and looked over his shoulder towards
+the paper. Von Holzen glanced at Dorothy. He had no desire to keep her
+in suspense, but he wished to know how much she knew. She looked into
+the fire, treating his conversation as directed towards her brother
+only.
+
+"I tried for ten years in vain to get this," continued Von Holzen, "and
+at last a dying man dictated it to me. For years it lived in the brain
+of one man only--and he a maker of it himself. He might have died at
+any moment with that secret in his head. And I,"--he folded the paper
+slowly and shrugged his shoulders--"I watched him. And the last
+intelligible word he spoke on earth was the last word of this
+prescription. The man can have been no fool; for he was a man of little
+education. I never respected him so much as I do now when I have learnt
+it myself." He rose and walked to the fire. "You permit me, Fr�ulein,"
+he said, putting the logs together with his foot.
+
+They burnt up brightly, and he threw the paper upon them. In a moment
+it was reduced to ashes. He turned slowly upon his heel, and looked at
+his companions with the grave smile of one who had never known much
+mirth.
+
+"There," he said, touching his forehead, with one finger; "it is in
+the brain of one man--once more." He returned to the chair he had just
+vacated. "And whosoever wishes to stop the manufacture of malgamite
+will need to stop that brain," he said, with a soft laugh. "Of course
+there is a risk attached to burning that paper," he continued, after a
+pause. "My brain may go--a little clot of blood no bigger than a pin's
+head, and the greatest brain on earth is so much pulp! It may be worth
+some one's while to kill me. It is so often worth some one's while to
+kill somebody else, even at a considerable risk--but the courage is
+nearly always lacking. However, we must run these risks."
+
+He rose from his chair with a low and rather pleasant laugh, glancing
+at the clock as he did so. It was evidently his intention to take his
+leave. Dorothy rose also, and they stood for a moment facing each
+other. He was a few inches above her stature, and he looked down at her
+with his slow, thoughtful eyes. He seemed always to be making a
+diagnosis of the souls of men.
+
+"I know, Fr�ulein," he said, "That you are one of those who dislike me,
+and seek to do me harm. I am sorry. It is long since I discarded a
+youthful belief that it was possible to get on in life without arousing
+ill feeling. Believe me, it is impossible even to hold one's own in
+this world without making enemies. There are two sides to every
+question, Fr�ulein--remember that."
+
+He brought his heels together, bowed stiffly, from the waist, in his
+formal manner, and left the room. Percy Roden followed him, leaving the
+door open. Dorothy heard the rustle of his dripping waterproof as he
+put it on, the click of the door, the sound of his firm retreating
+tread on the gravel. Then her brother came back into the room. His
+rather weak face was flushed. His eyes were unsteady. Dorothy saw this
+in a glance, and her own face hardened unresponsively. The situation
+was clearly enough defined in her own mind. Von Holzen had destroyed
+the prescription before her on purpose. It was only a move in that game
+of life which is always extending to a new deal, and of which women as
+onlookers necessarily see the most. Von Holzen wished Cornish, and
+others concerned, to know that he had destroyed the prescription. It
+was a concession in disguise--a retrograde movement--perhaps _pour
+mieux sauter_.
+
+Percy Roden was one of those men who have a grudge against the world.
+The most hopeless ill-doer is he who excuses himself angrily. There are
+some who seem unconscious of their own failings, and for these there is
+hope. They may some day find out that it is better to be at peace with
+the world even at the cost of a little self-denial. But Percy Roden
+admitted that he was wrong, and always had that sort of excuse which
+seeks to lay the blame upon a whole class--upon other business men, upon
+those in authority, upon women.
+
+"It is excused in others, why not in me?"--the last cry of the
+ne'er-do-well.
+
+He glanced angrily at Dorothy now. But he was always half afraid of
+her.
+
+"I wish we had never come to this place," he said.
+
+"Then let us go away from it," answered Dorothy, "before it is too
+late."
+
+Roden looked at her in surprise. Did she expect him to go away now from
+Mrs. Vansittart? He knew, of course, that Dorothy and the world always
+expected too much from him.
+
+"Before it is too late. What do you mean?" he asked, still thinking of
+Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"Before the Malgamite scheme is exposed," replied Dorothy, bluntly.
+And, to her surprise, he laughed.
+
+"I thought you meant something else," he said. "The Malgamite scheme
+can look after itself. Von Holzen is the cleverest man I know, and he
+knows what he is doing. I thought you meant Mrs. Vansittart--were
+thinking of her."
+
+"No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Vansittart."
+
+"Not worth thinking about," suggested Roden, adhering to his method of
+laughing for fear of being laughed at, which is common enough in very
+young men; but Roden should have outgrown it by this time.
+
+"Not seriously."
+
+"What do you mean, Dorothy?"
+
+"That I hope you do not think seriously of asking Mrs. Vansittart to
+marry you."
+
+Roden gave his rather unpleasant laugh again. "It happens that I do,"
+he replied. "And it happens that I know that Mrs. Vansittart never
+stays in The Hague in summer when all the houses are empty and
+everybody is away, and the place is given up to tourists, and becomes a
+mere annex to Scheveningen. This year she has stayed--why, I should
+like to know."
+
+And he stroked his moustache as he looked into the fire. He had been
+indulging in the vain pleasure of putting two and two together. A young
+man's vanity--or indeed any man's vanity--is not to be trusted to work
+out that simple addition correctly. Percy Roden was still in a
+dangerously exalted frame of mind. There is no intoxication so
+dangerous as that of success, and none that leaves so bitter a taste
+behind it.
+
+"Of course," he said, "no girl ever thinks that her brother can succeed
+in such a case. I suppose you dislike Mrs. Vansittart?"
+
+"No; I like her, and I understand her, perhaps better than you do. I
+should like nothing better than that she should marry you, but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"Well, ask her," replied Dorothy--a woman's answer.
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then let us go away from here."
+
+Roden turned on her angrily. "Why do you keep on repeating that?" he
+cried. "Why do you want to go away from here?"
+
+"Because," replied Dorothy, as angry as himself, "you know as well as I
+do that the Malgamite scheme is not what it pretends to be. I suppose
+you are making a fortune and are dazzled, or else you are being
+deceived by Herr von Holzen, or else----"
+
+"Or else----" echoed Roden, with a pale face. "Yes--go on." But she bit
+her lip and was silent. "It is an open secret," she went on after a
+pause. "Everybody knows that it is a disgrace or worse--perhaps a
+crime. If you have made a fortune, be content with what you have made,
+and clear yourself of the whole affair."
+
+"Not I."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because I am going to make more. And I am going to marry Mrs.
+Vansittart. It is only a question of money. It always is with women.
+And not one in a hundred cares how the money is made."
+
+Which, of course, is not true; for no woman likes to see her husband's
+name on a biscuit or a jam-pot.
+
+"Of course," went on Percy, in his anger. "I know which side you take,
+since you are talking of open secrets. At any rate, Von Holzen knows
+yours--if it is a secret--for he has hinted at it more than once.
+You think that it is I who have been deceived or who deceive myself.
+You are just as likely to be wrong. You place your whole faith in
+Cornish. You think that Cornish cannot do wrong."
+
+Dorothy turned and looked at him. Her eyes were steady, but the color
+left her face, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say.
+
+"Yes," she said. "I do."
+
+"And without a moment's hesitation," went on Roden, hurriedly, "you
+would sacrifice everything for the sake of a man you had never seen six
+months ago?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Even your own brother?"
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE ULTIMATUM.
+
+"Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est celui qui
+sait attendre."
+
+
+"If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear," said
+Marguerite Wade, sententiously, "that is exactly where your toes turn
+in."
+
+She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly
+veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready
+to throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the
+quiet old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees,
+within the peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major
+White was sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light
+tweed suit and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago,
+but no man surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which
+distinguishes men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from
+time to time glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at
+Joan.
+
+"Major White," said Marguerite.
+"Yes."
+
+"Greengage, please."
+
+The greengages were on a table at the major's elbow, having been placed
+there at Marguerite's command by the waiter who attended them at
+breakfast. White made ready to pass the dish.
+
+"Fingers," said Marguerite. "Heave one over."
+
+White selected one with an air of solemn resignation. Marguerite caught
+the greengage as neatly as it was thrown.
+
+"What do you think of Herr von Holzen?" she asked.
+
+"To think," replied the Major, "certain requisites are necessary."
+
+"Um--m."
+
+"I do not know Herr von Holzen, and I have nothing to think with," he
+explained gravely.
+
+"Well, you soon will know him, and I dare say if you tried you would
+find that you are not so stupid as you pretend to be. You are going
+down to the works this morning with Papa and Tony Cornish. I know that,
+because papa told me."
+
+The Major looked at her with his air of philosophic surprise. She held
+up her hand for a catch, and with resignation he threw her another
+greengage.
+
+"Tony is going to call for you in a carriage at ten o'clock, and you
+three old gentlemen are going to drive in an open barouche with cigars,
+like a bean feast, to the malgamite works."
+
+"The description is fairly accurate," admitted Major White, without
+looking up from his paper.
+
+"And I imagine you are going to raise--Hail Columbia!"
+
+He looked at her severely through his glass, and said nothing. She
+nodded in a friendly and encouraging manner, as if to intimate that he
+had her entire approval.
+
+"Take my word for it," she continued, turning to Joan, "Herr von Holzen
+is a shady customer. I know a shady customer when I see him. I never
+thought much of the malgamite business, you know, but unfortunately
+nobody asked my opinion on the matter. I wonder----" She paused,
+looking thoughtfully at Major White, who presently met her glance with
+a stolid stare. "Of course!" she said, in a final voice. "I forgot.
+You never think. You can't. Oh no!"
+
+"It is so easy to misjudge people," pleaded Joan, earnestly.
+
+"It is much easier to see right through them, straight off, in the
+twinkling of a bedpost," asserted Marguerite. "You will see, Herr von
+Holzen is wrong and Tony is right. And Tony will smash him up.
+You will see. Tony"--she paused, and looked up at the roof where the
+doves were cooing--"Tony knows his way about."
+
+Major White rose and laid aside his paper. Mr. Wade was coming down the
+iron steps that led from the verandah to the garden. The banker was
+cutting a cigar, and wore a placid, comfortable look, as if he had
+breakfasted well. Even as regards kidneys and bacon in a foreign hotel,
+where there is a will there is a way, and Marguerite possessed tongues.
+"I'll turn this place inside out," she had said, "to get the old thing
+what he wants." Then she attacked the waiter in fluent German.
+
+Marguerite noted his approach with a protecting eye. "It's all solid
+common sense," she said in an undertone to Joan, referring, it would
+appear, to his bulk.
+
+In only one respect was she misinformed as to the arrangements for the
+morning. Tony Cornish was not coming to the hotel to fetch Mr. Wade and
+White, but was to meet them in the shadiest of all thoroughfares and
+green canals, the Koninginne Gracht, where at midday the shadows cast
+by the great trees are so deep that daylight scarcely penetrates, and
+the boats creep to and fro like shadows. This amendment had been made
+in view of the fact that Lord Ferriby was in the hotel, and was,
+indeed, at this moment partaking of a solemn breakfast in his private
+sitting-room overlooking the Toornoifeld.
+
+His lordship did not, therefore, see these two solid pillars of the
+British constitution walk across the corner of the Korte Voorhout,
+cigar in lip, in a placid silence begotten, perhaps, of the knowledge
+that, should an emergency arise, they were of a material that would
+arise to meet it.
+
+Cornish was awaiting them by the bank of the canal. He was watching a
+boat slowly work its way past him. It was one of the large boats built
+for traffic on the greater canals and the open waters of the Scheldt
+estuary. It was laden from end to end with little square boxes bearing
+only a number and a port mark in black stencil. A pleasant odor of
+sealing-wax dominated the weedy smell of the canal.
+
+"Wherever you turn you meet the stuff," was Cornish's greeting to the
+two Englishmen.
+
+Major White, with his delicate sense of smell, sniffed the breeze. Mr.
+Wade looked at the canal-boat with a nod. Commercial enterprise, and,
+above all, commercial success, commanded his honest respect.
+
+They entered the carriage awaiting them beneath the trees. Cornish was,
+as usual, quick and eager, a different type from his companions, who
+were not brilliant as he was, nor polished.
+
+They found the gates of the malgamite works shut, but the door-keeper,
+knowing Cornish to be a person of authority, threw them open and
+directed the driver to wait outside till the gentlemen should return.
+The works were quiet and every door was closed.
+
+"Is it mixing-day?" asked Cornish.
+
+"Every day is mixing-day now, mein Herr, and there are some who work
+all night as well. If the gentlemen will wait a moment, I will seek
+Herr Roden."
+
+And he left them standing beneath the brilliant sun in the open space
+between the gate and the cottage where Von Holzen lived. In a few
+moments he returned, accompanied by Percy Roden, who emerged from the
+office in his shirt-sleeves, pen in hand. He shook hands with Cornish
+and White, glanced at Mr. Wade, and half bowed. He did not seem glad to
+see them.
+
+"We want to look at your books," said Cornish. "I suppose you will make
+no objection?" Roden bit his moustache and looked at the point of his
+pen.
+
+"You and Major White?" he suggested.
+
+"And this gentleman, who comes as our financial advisor."
+
+Roden raised his eyebrows rather insolently. "Ah--may I ask who this
+gentleman is?" he said.
+
+"My name is Wade," answered the banker, characteristically for himself.
+
+Roden's face changed, and he glanced at the great financier with a keen
+interest.
+
+"I have no objection," he said after a moment's hesitation. "If Von
+Holzen will agree. I will go and ask him."
+
+And they were left alone in the sunshine once more. Mr. Wade watched
+Roden as he walked towards the factory.
+
+"Not the sort of man I expected," he commented. "But he has the right
+shaped head for figures. He is shrewd enough to know that he cannot
+refuse, so gives in with a good grace."
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen approached them, emerging from the factory
+alone. He bowed politely, but did not offer to shake hands. He had not
+seen Cornish since the evening when he had offered to make malgamite
+before him, and the experiment had taken such a deadly turn. He looked
+at him now and found his glance returned by an illegible smile. The
+question flashed through his mind and showed itself on his face as to
+why Roden had made such a mistake as to introduce a man like this into
+the Malgamite scheme. Von Holzen invited the gentlemen into the office.
+"It is small, but it will accommodate us," he said, with a smile.
+
+He drew forward chairs, and offered one to Cornish in particular, with
+a grim deference. He seemed to have divined that their last meeting in
+this same office had been, by tacit understanding, kept a secret.
+There is for some men a certain satisfaction in antagonism, and a stern
+regard for a strong foe--which reached its culmination, perhaps, in
+that Saxon knight who desired to be buried in the same chapel as his
+lifelong foe--between him, indeed, and the door--so that at the
+resurrection day they should not miss each other.
+
+Von Holzen seemed to have somewhat of this feeling for Cornish. He
+offered him the best seat at the table. Roden was taking his books from
+a safe--huge ledgers bound in green pigskin, slim cash-books,
+cloth-bound journals. He named them as he laid them on the table before
+Mr. Wade. Major White looked at the great tomes with solemn and silent
+awe. Mr. Wade was already fingering his gold pencil-case. He eyed the
+closed books with an anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his face--as a
+commander may eye the arrayed squadrons of the foe.
+
+"It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in
+confidence?" said Von Holzen. "For your own satisfaction, and not in
+any sense for publication. It is a trade secret."
+
+"Of course," answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
+"We trust to the honor of these gentlemen."
+
+Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes.
+"Yes," he said.
+
+Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the
+iron mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the
+table--especially at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face
+wore a careless smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness
+of the books testified to the fact that he always worked in
+shirt-sleeves. It was a trick of the trade, which exonerated him from
+the necessity of apologizing.
+
+Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with
+his fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed
+to recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet
+of neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
+unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
+
+"Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March," he said.
+
+Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were
+like copper-plate--an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
+final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid
+it aside. Then, he turned to the slim cash-books, which he glanced at
+casually. The journals he set aside without opening. He handled the
+books with a sort of skill showing that he knew how to lift them with
+the least exertion, how to open them and close them and turn their
+stiff pages. The enormous mass of figures did not seem to appal him;
+the maze was straight enough beneath such skillful eyes. Finally, he
+turned to a small locked ledger, of which the key was attached to
+Roden's watch-chain, who came forward and unlocked the book. Mr. Wade
+turned to the index at the beginning of the volume, found a certain
+account, and opened the book there. At the sight of the figures he
+raised his eyebrow and glanced up at Roden.
+
+"Whew!" he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He had arrived at his
+destination--had torn the heart out of these great books. All in the
+room were watching his placid, shrewd old face. He studied the books
+for some time and then took a sheet of blank paper from a number of
+such attached by a string to a corner of the table. He reflected for
+some minutes, pushing the movable part of his gold pencil in and out
+pensively as he did so. Then he wrote a number of figures on the sheet
+of paper and handed it to Cornish. He closed the locked ledger with a
+snap. The audit of the malgamite books was over.
+
+"It is a wonderful piece of single-handed bookkeeping," he said to
+Roden.
+
+Cornish was studying the paper set before him by the banker. The
+proceedings seemed to have been prearranged, for no word was exchanged.
+There was no consultation on either side. Finally, Cornish folded the
+paper and tore it into a hundred pieces in scrupulous adherence to Von
+Holzen's conditions. Mr. Wade was sitting back in his chair
+thoughtfully amusing himself with his gold pencil-case. Cornish looked
+at him for a moment, and then spoke, addressing Von Holzen.
+
+"We came here to make a final proposal to you," he said; "to place
+before you, in fact, our ultimatum. We do not pretend to conceal from
+you the fact that we are anxious to avoid all publicity, all scandal.
+But if you drive us to it, we shall unhesitatingly face both in order
+to close these works. We do not want the Malgamite scheme to be dragged
+as a charity in the mud, because it will inevitably drag other
+charities with it. There are certain names connected with the scheme
+which we should prefer; moreover, to keep from the clutches of the
+cheaper democratic newspapers. We know the weakness of our position.
+
+"And we know the strength of ours," put in Von Holzen, quietly.
+
+"Yes. We recognize that also. You have hitherto slipped in between
+international laws, and between the laws of men. Legally, we should
+have difficulty in getting at you, but it can be done. Financially----"
+He paused, and looked at Mr. Wade.
+
+"Financially," said the banker, without lifting his eyes from his
+pencil case, "we shall in the long run inevitably smash you--though the
+books are all right."
+
+Roden smiled, with his long white fingers at his moustache.
+
+"From the figures supplied to me by Mr. Wade," continued Cornish, "I
+see that there is an enormous profit lying idle--so large a profit that
+even between ourselves it is better not mentioned. There are, or there
+were yesterday, two hundred and ninety-two malgamite makers in active
+work."
+
+Von Holzen made an involuntary movement, and Cornish looked at him over
+the pile of books. "Oh!" he said, "I know that. And I know the number
+of deaths. Perhaps you have not kept count, but I have. From the
+figures supplied by Mr. Wade, I see, therefore, that we have sufficient
+to pension off these two hundred and ninety-two men and their
+families--giving each man one hundred and twenty pounds a year. We can
+also make provision for the widows and orphans out of the sum I propose
+to withdraw from the profits. There will then be left a sum
+representing two large fortunes--of say between three and four thousand
+a year each. Will you and Mr. Roden accept this sum, dividing it as you
+think fit, and hand over the works to me? We ask, you to take it--no
+questions asked, and go."
+
+"And Lord Ferriby?" suggested Von Holzen.
+
+Major White made a sudden movement, but Cornish laid his hand quickly
+upon the soldier's arm.
+
+"I will manage Lord Ferriby. What is your answer?"
+
+"No," replied Von Holzen, instantly, as if he had long known what the
+ultimatum would be.
+
+Cornish turned interrogatively to Roden. His eyes urged Roden to
+accept.
+
+"No," was the reply.
+
+Mr. Wade took out his large gold watch and looked at it.
+
+"Then there is no need," he said composedly, "to detain these gentlemen
+any longer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+COMMERCE.
+
+"The world will not believe a man repents.
+And this wise world of ours is mainly right."
+
+
+"Then you are of opinion, my dear White, that one cannot well refuse to
+meet these--er--persons?"
+
+"Not," replied Major White to Lord Ferriby, whose hand rested on his
+stout arm as they walked with dignity in the shade of the trees that
+border the Vyver--that quaint old fish-pond of The Hague--"not without
+running the risk of being called a d----d swindler."
+
+For the major was a lamentably plain-spoken man, who said but little,
+and said that little strong. Lord Ferriby's affectionate grasp of the
+soldier's arm relaxed imperceptibly. One must, he reflected, be
+prepared to meet unpleasantness in the good cause of charity--but there
+are words hardly applicable to the peerage, and Major White had made
+use of one of these.
+
+"Public opinion," observed the major, after some minutes of deep
+thought, "is a difficult thing to deal with--'cos you cannot thump the
+public."
+
+"It is notably hard," said his lordship, firing off one of his pet
+platform platitudes, "to induce the public to form a correct estimate,
+or what one takes to be a correct estimate."
+
+"Especially of one's self," added the major, looking across the water
+towards the Binnenhof in his vacant way.
+
+Then they turned and walked back again beneath the heavy shade of the
+trees. The conversation, and indeed this dignified promenade on the
+Vyverberg, had been brought about by a letter which his lordship had
+received that same morning inviting him to attend a meeting of
+paper-makers and others interested in the malgamite trade to consider
+the position of the malgamite charity, and the advisability of taking
+legal proceedings to close the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. The
+meeting was to be held at the H�tel des Indes, at three in the
+afternoon, and the conveners hinted pretty plainly that the proceedings
+would be of a decisive nature. The letter left Lord Ferriby with a
+vague feeling of discomfort. His position was somewhat isolated. A
+coldness had for some time been in existence between himself and his
+nephew, Tony Cornish. Of Mr. Wade, Lord Ferriby was slightly
+distrustful.
+
+"These commercial men," he often said, "are apt to hold such narrow
+views."
+
+And, indeed, to steer a straight course through life, one must not look
+to one side or the other.
+
+There remained Major White, of whom Lord Ferriby had thought more
+highly since Fortune had called this plain soldier to take a seat among
+the gods of the British public. For no man is proof against the
+satisfaction of being able to call a celebrated person by his Christian
+name. The major had long admired Joan, in his stupid way from, as one
+might say, the other side of the room. But neither Lord nor Lady
+Ferriby had encouraged this silent suit. Joan was theoretically one of
+those of whom it is said that "she might marry anybody," and who, as
+the keen observer may see for himself, often finishes by failing to
+marry at all. She was pretty and popular, and had, moreover, the
+_entr�e_ to the best houses. White had been useful to Lord Ferriby ever
+since the inauguration of the Malgamite scheme. He was not
+uncomfortably clever, like Tony Cornish. He was an excellent buffer at
+jarring periods. Since the arrival of Joan and her father at The Hague,
+the major had been almost a necessity in their daily life, and now,
+quite suddenly, Lord Ferriby found that this was the only person to
+whom he could turn for advice or support.
+
+"One cannot suppose," he said, in the full conviction that words will
+meet any emergency--"One cannot suppose that Von Holzen will act in
+direct opposition to the voice of the majority."
+
+"Von Holzen," replied the major, "plays a doocid good game."
+
+After luncheon they walked across the Toornoifeld to the H�tel des
+Indes, and there, in a small _salon_, found a number of gentlemen
+seated round a table. Mr. Wade was conspicuous by his absence. They
+had, indeed, left him in the hotel garden, sitting at the consumption
+of an excellent cigar.
+
+"Join the jocund dance?" the major had inquired, with a jerk of the
+head towards the H�tel des Indes. But Mr. Wade was going for a drive
+with Marguerite.
+
+Tony Cornish was, however, seated at the table, and the major
+recognized two paper-makers whom he had seen before. One was an
+aggressive, red-headed man, of square shoulders and a dogged
+appearance, who had "radical" written all over him. The other was a
+mild-mannered person, with a thin, ash-colored moustache.
+The major nodded affably. He distinctly remembered offering to fight
+these two gentlemen either together or one after the other on the
+landing of the little malgamite office in Westminster. And there was a
+faint twinkle behind the major's eyeglass as he saluted them.
+
+"Good morning, Thompson," he said. "How do, MacHewlett?" For he never
+forgot a face or a name.
+
+"A'hm thinking----" Mr. MacHewlett was observing, but his thoughts died
+a natural death at the sight of a real lord, and he rose and bowed. Mr.
+Thompson remained seated and made that posture as aggressive and
+obvious as possible. The remainder of the company were of varied
+nationality and appearance, while one, a Frenchman of keen dark eyes
+and a trim beard--seemed by tacit understanding to be the acknowledged
+leader. Even the pushing Mr. Thompson silently deferred to him by a
+gesture that served at once to introduce Lord Ferriby and invite the
+Frenchman to up and smite him.
+
+Lord Ferriby took the seat that had been left vacant for him at the
+head of the table. He looked around upon faces not too friendly.
+"We were saying, my lord," said the Frenchman, in perfect English and
+with that graceful tact which belongs to France alone, "that we have
+all been the victims of an unfortunate chain of misunderstandings.
+Had the organizers of this great charity consulted a few paper-makers
+before inaugurating the works at Scheveningen, much unpleasantness
+ might have been averted, many lives might, alas, have been spared.
+But--well--such mundane persons as ourselves were probably unknown to
+you and unthought-of; the milk is spilt, is it not so? Let us rather
+think of the future."
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed graciously, and Mr. Thompson moved impatiently on
+his chair. The suave method had no attractions for him.
+
+"A'hm thinking," began Mr. MacHewlett, in his most plaintive voice, and
+commanded so sudden and universal an attention as to be obviously
+disconcerted, "his lordship'll need plainer speech than that," he
+muttered hastily, and subsided, with an uneasy glance in the direction
+of that man of action, Major White.
+
+"One misunderstanding has, however, been happily dispelled," said the
+Frenchman, "by our friend--if monsieur will permit the word--our friend,
+Mr. Cornish. From this gentleman we have learned that the executive of
+the Malgamite Charity are not by any means in harmony with the
+executive of the malgamite works at Scheveningen; that, indeed, the
+charity repudiates the action of its servants in manufacturing
+malgamite by a dangerous process tacitly and humanely set aside by
+makers up to this time; that the administrators of the fund are no
+party to the 'corner' which has been established in the product; do not
+desire to secure a monopoly, and disapprove of the sale of malgamite at
+a price which has already closed one or two of the smaller mills, and
+is paralyzing the paper trade of the world."
+
+The speaker finished with a bow towards Cornish, and resumed his seat.
+All were watching Lord Ferriby's face, except Major White, who examined
+a quill pen with short-sighted absorption. Lord Ferriby looked across
+the table at Cornish.
+
+"Lord Ferriby," said Cornish, without rising from his seat, and meeting
+his uncle's glance steadily, "will now no doubt confirm all that
+Monsieur Creil has said."
+
+Lord Ferriby had, in truth, come to the meeting with no such intention.
+He had, with all his vast experience, no knowledge of a purely
+commercial assembly such as this. His public had hitherto been a
+drawing-room public. He was accustomed to a flower-decked platform,
+from which to deliver his flowing periods to the emotional of both
+sexes. There were no flowers in this room at the H�tel des Indes, and
+the men before him were not of the emotional school. They were, on the
+contrary, plain, hard-headed men of business, who had come from
+different parts of the world at Cornish's bidding to meet a crisis in a
+plain, hard-headed way. They had only thoughts of their balance-sheets,
+and not of the fact that they held in the hollow of their hands the
+lives of hundreds, nay, of thousands, of men, women, and children.
+Monsieur Creil alone, the keen-eyed Frenchman, had absolute control of
+over three thousand employees--married men with children--but he did not
+think of mentioning the fact. And it is a weight to carry about with
+one--to go to sleep with and to awake with in the morning--the charge
+of, say, nine thousand human lives.
+
+For a few moments Lord Ferriby was silent. Cornish watched him across
+the table. He knew that his uncle was no fool, although his wisdom
+amounted to little more than the wisdom of the worldly. Would Lord
+Ferriby recognize the situation in time? There was a wavering look in
+the great man's eye that made his nephew suddenly anxious. Then Lord
+Ferriby rose slowly, to make the shortest speech that he had ever made
+in his life.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, "I beg to confirm what has just been said."
+
+As he sat down again, Cornish gave a sharp sigh of relief. In a moment
+Mr. Thompson was on his feet, his red face alight with democratic anger.
+
+
+"This won't do," he cried. "Let's have done with palavering and talk.
+Let's get to plain speaking."
+
+And it was not Lord Ferriby, but Tony Cornish, who rose to meet the
+attack.
+
+"If you will sit down," he said, "and keep your temper, you shall have
+plain speaking, and we can get to business. But if you do neither, I
+shall turn you out of the room."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes," answered Tony. And something which Mr. Thompson did not
+understand made him resume his seat in silence. The Frenchman smiled,
+and took up his speech where he had left it.
+
+"Mr. Cornish," he said, "speaks with authority. We are, gentlemen, in
+the hands of Mr. Cornish, and in good hands. He has this matter at the
+tips of his fingers. He has devoted himself to it for many months past,
+at considerable risk, as I suspect, to his own safety. We and the
+thousands of employees whom we represent cannot do better than entrust
+the situation to him, and give him a free hand. For once, capital and
+labour have a common interest----"
+
+He was again interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who spoke more quietly now.
+
+"It seems to me," he said, "that we may well consider the past for a
+few minutes before passing on to the future. There's more than a
+million pounds profit, at the lowest reckoning, on the last few months'
+manufacture. Question is, where is that profit? Is this a charity, or
+is it not? Mr. Cornish is all very well in his way. But we're not
+fools. We're men of business, and as such can only presume that Mr.
+Cornish, like the rest of 'em, has had his share. Question is, where
+are the profits?"
+
+Major White rose slowly. He was seated beside Mr. Thompson, and,
+standing up, towered above him. He looked down at the irate red face
+with a calm and wondering eye.
+
+"Question is," he said gravely, "where the deuce you will be in a few
+minutes if you don't shut up."
+
+Whereupon Mr. Thompson once more resumed his seat. He had the
+satisfaction, however, of perceiving that his shaft had reached its
+mark; for Lord Ferriby looked disconcerted and angry. The chairman of
+many charities looked, moreover, a little puzzled, as if the situation
+was beyond his comprehension. The Frenchman's pleasant voice again
+broke in, soothingly and yet authoritatively.
+
+"Mr. Cornish and a certain number of us have, for some time, been in
+correspondence," he said. "It is unnecessary for me to suggest to my
+present hearers that in dealing with a large industry--in handling, as
+it were, the lives of a number of persons--it is impossible to proceed
+too cautiously. One must look as far ahead as human foresight may
+perceive--one must give grave and serious thought to every possible
+outcome of action or inaction. Gentlemen, we have done our best. We
+are now in a position to say to the administrators of the Malgamite
+Fund, close your works and we will do the rest. And this means that we
+shall provide for the survivors of this great commercial catastrophe,
+that we shall care for the widows and children of the victims, that we
+shall supply ourselves with malgamite of our own manufacture, produced
+only by a process which is known to be harmless, that we shall make it
+impossible that such a monopoly may again be declared. We have, so far
+as lies in our power, provided for every emergency. We have approached
+the two men who, from their retreat on the dunes of Scheveningen, have
+swayed one of the large industries of the world. We have offered them a
+fortune. We have tried threats and money, but we have failed to close
+them but one alternative, and that is--war. We are prepared in every way.
+We can to-morrow take over the manufacture of malgamite for the whole
+world--but we must have the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. We must
+have the absolute control of the Malgamite Fund and of the works. We
+propose, gentlemen, to seize this control, and invest the supreme
+command in the one man who is capable of exercising it--Mr.
+Anthony Cornish."
+
+The Frenchman sat down, looked across the table, and shrugged his
+shoulders impatiently; for the irrepressible Thompson was already on
+his feet. It must be remembered that Mr. Thompson worked on commission,
+and had been hard hit.
+
+"Then," he cried, pointing a shaking forefinger into Lord Ferriby's
+face, "that man has no business to be sitting there. We're honest
+here--if we're nothing else. We all know your history, my fine
+gentleman; we know that you cannot wipe out the past, so you're trying
+to whitewash it over with good works. That's an old trick, and it won't
+go down here. Do you think we don't see through you and your palavering
+speeches? Why have you refused to take action against Roden and Von
+Holzen? Because they've paid you. Look at him, gentlemen! He has taken
+money from those men at Scheveningen--blood money. He has had his
+share. I propose that Lord Ferriby explains his position."
+
+Mr. Thompson banged his fist on the table, and at the same moment sat
+down with extreme precipitation, urged thereto by Major White's hand on
+his collar.
+
+"This is not a vestry meeting," said the major, sternly.
+
+Lord Ferriby had risen to his feet. "My position, gentlemen," he began,
+and then faltered, with his hand at his watch-chain. "My position----"
+He stopped with a gulp. His face was the colour of ashes. He turned in
+a dazed way towards his nephew; for at the beginning and the end of
+life blood is thicker than water. "Anthony," said his lordship, and sat
+down heavily.
+
+All rose to their feet in confusion. Major White seemed somehow to be
+quicker than the rest, and caught Lord Ferriby in his arms--but Lord
+Ferriby was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+WITH CARE.
+
+"Some man holdeth his tongue, because he hath not to answer: and
+some keepeth silence, knowing his time."
+
+
+Those who live for themselves alone must at least have the consolatory
+thought that when they die the world will soon console itself. For it
+has been decreed that he who takes no heed of others shall himself be
+taken no heed of. We soon learn to do without those who are indifferent
+to us and useless to us. Lord Ferriby had so long and so carefully
+studied the _culte_ of self that even those nearest to him had ceased
+to give him any thought, knowing that in his own he was in excellent
+hands--that he would always ask for what he wanted. It was Lord
+Ferriby's business to make the discovery (which all selfish people must
+sooner or later achieve) that the best things in this world are
+precisely those which may not be given on demand, and for which,
+indeed, one may in nowise ask.
+
+When Major White and Cornish were left alone in the private _salon_ of
+the H�tel des Indes--when the doctor had come and gone, when the blinds
+had been decently lowered, and the great man silently laid upon the
+sofa--they looked at each other without speaking. The grimmest silence
+is surely that which arises from the thought that of the dead one may
+only say what is good.
+
+"Would you like me," said Cornish, "to go across and tell Joan?"
+
+And Major White, whose god was discipline, replied, "She's your cousin.
+It is for you to say."
+
+"I shall be glad if you will go," said Cornish, "and leave me to make
+the other arrangements. Take her home tomorrow, or tonight if she wants
+to, and leave us--me--to follow."
+
+So Major White quitted the H�tel des Indes, and walked slowly down the
+length of the Toornoifeld, leaving Cornish alone with Lord Ferriby,
+whose death made his nephew suddenly a richer man.
+
+The Wades had gone out for a drive in the wood. Major White knew that
+he would find Joan alone at the hotel. Bad news has a strange trick of
+clearing the way before it. The major went to the _salon_ on the ground
+floor overlooking the corner of the Vyverberg. Joan was writing a
+letter at the window.
+
+"Ah!" she said, turning, pen in hand, "you are soon back. Have you
+quarrelled?"
+
+White went stolidly across the room towards her. There was a chair by
+the writing-table, and here he sat down. Joan was looking uneasily into
+his face. Perhaps she saw more in that immovable countenance than the
+world was pleased to perceive.
+
+"Your father was taken suddenly ill," he said, "during the meeting."
+Joan half rose from her chair, but the major laid his protecting hand
+over hers. It was a large, quiet hand--like himself, somewhat suggestive
+of a buffer. And it may, after all, be no mean _r�le_ to act as a
+buffer between one woman and the world all one's life.
+
+"You can do nothing," said White. "Tony is with him."
+
+Joan looked into his face in speechless inquiry.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "your father is dead."
+
+Then he sat there in a silence which may have been intensely stupid or
+very wise. For silence is usually cleverer than speech, and always more
+interesting. Joan was dry-eyed. Well may the children of the selfish
+arise and bless their parents for (albeit unwittingly) alleviating one
+of the necessary sorrows of life.
+
+After a silence, Major White told Joan how the calamity had occurred,
+in a curt military way, as of one who had rubbed shoulders with death
+before, who had gone out, moreover, to meet him with a quiet mind, and
+had told others of the dealings of the destroyer. For Major White was
+deemed a lucky man by his comrades, who had a habit of giving him
+messages for their friends before they went into the field. Perhaps,
+moreover, the major was of the opinion of those ancient writers who
+seemed to deem it more important to consider how a man lives than how
+he dies.
+
+"It was some heart trouble," he concluded, "brought on by worry or
+sudden excitement."
+
+"The Malgamite," answered Joan. "It has always been a source of
+uneasiness to him. He never quite understood it."
+
+"No," answered the major, very deliberately, "he never quite understood
+it." And he looked out of the window with a thoughtful noncommitting
+face.
+
+"Neither do I--understand it," said Joan, doubtfully.
+
+And the major looked suddenly dense. He had, as usual, no explanation
+to offer.
+
+"Was father deceived by some one?" Joan asked, after a pause. "One
+hears such strange rumours about the Malgamite Fund. I suppose father
+was deceived?"
+
+She spoke of the dead man with that hushed voice which death, with a
+singular impartiality to race or creed, seems to demand of the
+survivors wheresoever he passes.
+
+White met her earnest gaze with a grave nod. "Yes," he answered. "He
+was deceived."
+
+"He said before he went out that he did not want to go to the meeting
+at all," went on Joan, in a tone of tender reminiscence, "but that he
+had always made a point of sacrificing his inclination to his sense of
+duty. Poor father!"
+
+"Yes," said the major, looking out of the window. And he bore Joan's
+steady, searching glance like a man.
+
+"Tell me," she said suddenly. "Were you and Tony deceived also?"
+
+Major White reflected for a moment. It is unwise to tell even the
+smallest lie in haste.
+
+"No," he answered at length. "Not so entirely as your father."
+
+He uncrossed his legs, and made a feeble attempt to divert her
+thoughts.
+
+But Joan was on the trail as it were of a half-formed idea in her own
+mind, and she would not have been a woman if she had relinquished the
+quest so easily.
+
+"But you were deceived at first?" she inquired, rather anxiously. "I
+know Tony was. I am sure of it. Perhaps he found out later; but you--"
+
+She drew her hand from under his rather hastily, having just found out
+that it was in that equivocal position.
+
+"You were never deceived," she said, with a suspicion of resentment.
+
+"Well--perhaps not," admitted the major, reluctantly. And he looked
+regretfully at the hand she had withdrawn. "Don't know much about
+charities," he continued, after a pause. "Don't quite look at them in
+the right light, perhaps. Seems to me that you ought to be more
+business-like in charities than in anything else; and we're not
+business men--not even you."
+
+He looked at her very solemnly and wisely, as if the thoughts in his
+mind would be of immense value if he could only express them; but he
+was without facilities in that direction. If one cannot be wise, the
+next best thing is to have a wise look. He rose, for he had caught
+sight of Tony Cornish crossing the Toornoifeld in the shade of the
+trees. Perhaps the major had forgotten for the moment that a great man
+was dead; that there were letters to be written and telegrams to be
+despatched; that the world must know of it, and the insatiable maw of
+the public be closed by a few scraps of news. For the public mind must
+have its daily food, and the wise are they who tell it only that which
+it is expedient for it to know.
+
+Lord Ferriby's life was, moreover, one that needed careful obituary
+treatment. Everybody's life may for domestic purposes be described as a
+hash; but Lord Ferriby's was a hash which in the hands of a cheap
+democratic press might easily be served up so daintily as to be very
+savoury in the nostrils of the world. Some of its component parts were
+indeed exceedingly ancient, and, so to speak, gamey, while the
+Malgamite scheme alone might easily be magnified into a very passable
+scandal.
+
+Tony came into the room, keen and capable. He did not show much
+feeling. Perhaps Joan and he understood each other without any such
+display. For they had known each other many years, and had understood
+other and more subtle matters without verbal explanation. For the world
+had been pleased to say that Joan and Tony must in the end inevitably
+marry. And they had never explained, never contradicted, and never
+married.
+
+While the three were still talking, a carriage rattled up to the door
+of the hotel, and then another. There began, in a word, that hushed
+confusion--that running to and fro as of ants upon a disturbed
+ant-hill--which follows hard upon the footsteps of the grim messenger,
+who himself is content to come so quietly and unobtrusively. Roden
+arrived to make inquiries, and Mrs. Vansittart, and a messenger from
+more than one embassy. Then the Wades came, brought hurriedly back by a
+messenger sent after them by Tony Cornish.
+
+Marguerite, with characteristic energy, came into the room first, slim
+and bright-eyed. She looked from one face to the other, and then
+crossed the room and stood beside Joan without speaking. She was
+smiling--a little hard smile with close-set lips, showing the world a
+face that meant to take life open-eyed, as it is, and make the best of
+it.
+
+Before long the two girls quitted the room, leaving the three men to
+their hushed discussion. Tony had already provided himself with pen and
+paper. In twelve hours that which the world must know about Lord
+Ferriby should be in print. There was just time to cable it to the
+_Times_ and the news agencies. And in these hurried days it is the
+first word which, after all, goes farthest and carries most weight. A
+contradiction is at all times a poor expedient.
+
+"I have silenced the paper-makers," said Cornish, sitting down to
+write. "Even that ass Thompson, by striking while the iron was hot."
+
+"And Roden won't open his lips," added Mr. Wade, who, as he drove up,
+had seen that brilliant financier uneasily strolling under the trees of
+the Toornoifeld, looking towards the hotel, for Lord Ferriby's death
+was a link in the crooked malgamite chain which even Von Holzen had
+failed to foresee.
+
+Indeed, Lord Ferriby must have been gratified could he have seen the
+posthumous pother that he made by dying at this juncture. For in life
+he had only been important in his own eyes, and the world had taken
+little heed of him. This same keen-sighted world would not regret him
+much now and would assuredly mete out to that miserly old screw, his
+widow, only as much sympathy as the occasion deserved. Lady Ferriby
+would, the world suspected, sell off his lordship's fancy waistcoats,
+and proceed to save money to her heart's content. Even the thought of
+his club subscriptions, now necessarily to be discontinued, must have
+assuaged a large part of the widow's grief. Such, at least, was the
+opinion of the clubs themselves, when the news was posted up among the
+weather reports and the latest tapes from the House that same evening.
+
+While Lord Ferriby's friends were comfortably endowing him with a few
+compensating virtues over their tea and hot buttered toast in Pall Mall
+and St. James's Street, Mr. Wade, Tony, and White dined together at the
+Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery at The Hague. The hour was an early
+one, and had never been countenanced by Lord Ferriby, but the three men
+in whose hands he had literally left his good name did not attach
+supreme importance to this matter. Indeed, the banker thought kindly of
+six-thirty as an hour at which in earlier days he had been endowed with
+a better appetite than he ever possessed now at eight o'clock or later.
+While they were at table a telegram was handed to Cornish. It was from
+Lord Ferriby's solicitor in London, and contained the advice that Tony
+Cornish had been appointed sole executor of his lordship's will.
+
+"Thank God!" said Tony, with a little laugh, as he read the message and
+handed it across to Mr. Wade, who looked at it gravely without comment.
+"And now," said Cornish, "not even Joan need know."
+
+For Cornish, having perceived Percy Roden under the trees of the
+Toornoifeld, had gone out there to speak to him, and in answer to a
+plain question had received a plain answer as to the price that Lord
+Ferriby had been paid for the use of his name in the Malgamite
+Fund transactions.
+
+Joan had elected to remain in her own rooms, with Marguerite to keep
+her company, until the evening, when, under White's escort, she was to
+set out for England. The major had in a minimum of words expressed
+himself ready to do anything at any time, provided that the service did
+not require an abnormal conversational effort.
+
+"I shall be home twenty-four hours after you," said Cornish, as he bade
+Joan good-bye at the station. "And you need believe no rumours and fear
+no gossip. If people ask impertinent questions, refer them to White."
+
+"And I'll thump them," added the major, who indeed looked capable of
+rendering that practical service.
+
+They were favoured by a full moon and a perfect night for their passage
+from the Hook of Holland to Harwich. Joan expressed a desire to remain
+on deck, at all events, until the lights of the Maas had been left
+behind. Major White procured two deck chairs, and found a corner of the
+upper deck which was free alike from too much wind and too many people.
+There they sat in the shadow of a boat, and Joan seemed fully occupied
+with her own thoughts, for she did not speak while the steamer ploughed
+steadily onwards through the smooth water.
+
+"I wonder if it is my duty to continue to take an active part in the
+Malgamite Fund," she said at length.
+
+And the major, who had been permitted to smoke, looked attentively at
+the lighted end of his cigar, and said nothing.
+
+"I am afraid it must be," continued Joan, whose earnest endeavours to
+find out what was her duty, and do it, occupied the larger part of her
+time and attention.
+
+"Why?" asked Major White.
+
+"Because I don't want to."
+
+The major thought about the matter for a long time--almost half through
+a cigar. It was wonderful how so much thought could result in so few
+words, especially in these days, which are essentially days of many
+words and few thoughts. During this period of meditation, Joan sat
+looking out to sea, and the moon shining down upon her face showed it
+to be puckered with anxiety. Like many of her contemporaries, she was
+troubled by an intense desire to do her duty, coupled with an
+unfortunate lack of duties to perform.
+
+"I wish you would tell me what you think," she said.
+
+"Seems to me," said White, "that your duty is clear enough."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Yes. Drop the Malgamiters and the Haberdashers and all that,
+and--marry me."
+
+But Joan only shook her head sadly. "That cannot be my duty," she said.
+
+"Why? 'Cos it isn't unpleasant enough?"
+
+"No," answered Joan, after a pause, in the deepest
+earnestness--"no--that's just it."
+
+Out of which ambiguous observation the major seemed to gather some
+meaning, for he looked up at the moon with one of his most vacant
+smiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+A LESSON.
+
+"Whom the gods mean to destroy, they blind."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had passed the age of blind love. She had not the
+incentive of a healthy competition. She had not that more dangerous
+incentive of middle-aged vanity, which draws the finger of derision so
+often in the direction of widows. And yet she took a certain pleasure
+in playing a half-careless and wholly cynical Juliet to Percy Roden's
+_gauche_ Romeo. She had no intention of marrying him, and yet she
+continued to encourage him even now that open war was declared between
+Cornish and the malgamite makers. Cornish had indeed thanked Mrs.
+Vansittart for her assistance in the past in such a manner as to convey
+to her that she could hardly be of use to him in the future. He had
+magnified her good offices, and had warned her to beware of arousing
+Von Holzen's anger. Indeed, her use of Percy Roden was at an end, and
+yet she would not let him go. Cornish was puzzled, and so was
+Dorothy. Percy Roden was gratified, and read the riddle by the light of
+his own vanity. Mrs. Vansittart was not, perhaps, the first woman to
+puzzle her neighbours by refusing to relinquish that which she did not
+want. She was not the first, perhaps, to nurse a subtle desire to play
+some part in the world rather than be left idle in the wings. So she
+played the part that came first and easiest to her hand--a woman's
+natural part, of stirring up strife between men.
+
+She was, therefore, gratified when Von Holzen made his way slowly towards
+her through the crowd on the Kursaal terrace one afternoon on the
+occasion of a Thursday concert. She was sitting alone in a far
+corner of the terrace, protected by a glass screen from the wind which
+ever blows at Scheveningen. She never mingled with the summer visitors
+at this popular Dutch resort--indeed, knew none of them. Von Holzen
+seemed to be similarly situated; but Mrs. Vansittart knew that he did
+not seek her out on that account. He was not a man to do anything--much
+less be sociable--out of idleness. He only dealt with his fellow-beings
+when he had a use for them.
+
+She returned his grave bow with an almost imperceptible movement of the
+head, and for a moment they looked hard at each other.
+
+"Madame still lingers at The Hague," he said.
+
+"As you see."
+
+"And is the game worth the candle?"
+
+He laid his hand tentatively on a chair, and looked towards her with an
+interrogative glance. He would not, it appeared, sit down without her
+permission. And, womanlike, she gave it, with a shrug of one shoulder.
+A woman rarely refuses a challenge. "And is the game worth the candle?"
+he repeated.
+
+"One can only tell when it is played out," was the reply; and Herr von
+Holzen glanced quickly at the lady who made it.
+
+He turned away and listened to the music. An occasional concert was the
+one diversion he allowed himself at this time from his most absorbing
+occupation of making a fortune. He had probably a real love of music,
+which is not by any means given to the good only, or the virtuous.
+Indeed, it is the art most commonly allied to vice.
+
+"By the way," said Von Holzen, after a pause, "that paper which it
+pleased madame's fantasy to possess at one time--is destroyed. Its
+teaching exists only in my unworthy brain."
+
+He turned and looked at her with his slow smile, his measuring eyes.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes; so madame need give the question no more thought, and may turn
+her full attention to her new--fancy."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was studying her programme, and did not look up or
+display the slightest interest in what he was saying.
+
+"Every event seems but to serve to strengthen our position," went on
+Von Holzen, still half listening to the music. "Even the untimely death
+of Lord Ferriby--which might at first have appeared a _contretemps_.
+Cornish takes home the coffin by tonight's mail, I understand. Men may
+come, madame, and men may go--but we go on for ever. We are still
+prosperous--despite our friends. And Cornish is nonplussed. He does not
+know what to do next, and fate seems to be against him. He has no luck.
+We are manufacturing--day and night."
+
+"You are interested in Mr. Cornish," observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly;
+and she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes.
+
+After all, the man had a passion over which his control was
+insecure--the last, the longest of the passions--hatred. He shrugged
+his shoulders.
+
+"He has forced himself upon our notice--unnecessarily as the result has
+proved--only to find out that there is no stopping us."
+
+He could scarcely control his voice as he spoke of Cornish, and looked
+away as if fearing to show the expression of his eyes.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart watched him with a cool little smile. Von Holzen had
+not come here to talk of Cornish. He had come on purpose to say
+something which he had not succeeded in saying yet, and she was not
+ignorant of this. She was going to make it as difficult as possible for
+him, so that when he at last said what he had come to say, she should
+know it, and perhaps divine his motives.
+
+"Even now," he continued, "we have succeeded beyond our expectations.
+We are rich men, so that madame--need delay no longer." He turned and
+looked her straight in the eyes.
+
+"I?" she inquired, with raised eyebrows. "Need delay no longer--in
+what?"
+
+"In consummating the happiness of my partner, Percy Roden," he was
+clever enough to say without being impertinent. "He--and his banking
+account--are really worth the attention of any lady."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed, and, before answering, acknowledged stiffly
+the stiff salutation of a passer.
+
+"Then it is suggested that I am waiting for Mr. Roden to be rich enough
+in order to marry him?"
+
+"It is the talk of gossips and servants."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart looked at him with an amused smile. Did he really know
+so little of the world as to take his information from gossips and
+servants?
+
+"Ah," she said, and that was all. She rose and made a little signal
+with her parasol to her coachman, who was waiting in the shadow of the
+Kursaal. As she drove home, she wondered why Von Holzen was afraid that
+she should marry Percy Roden, who, as it happened, was coming to tea in
+Park Straat that evening. Mrs. Vansittart had not exactly invited
+him--not, at all events, that he was aware of. He was under the
+impression that he had himself proposed the visit.
+
+She remembered that he was coming, but gave no further thought to him.
+All her mind was, indeed, absorbed with thoughts of Von Holzen, whom
+she hated with the dull and deadly hatred of the helpless. The sight of
+him, the sound of his voice, stirred something within her that vibrated
+for hours, so that she could think of nothing else--could not even give
+her attention to the little incidents of daily life. She pretended to
+herself that she sought retribution--that she wished on principle to
+check a scoundrel in his successful career. The heart, however, knows
+no principles; for these are created by and belong to the mind. Which
+explains why many women seem to have no principles and many virtuous
+persons no heart.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart went home to make a careful toilet pending the arrival
+of Percy Roden. She came down to the drawing-room, and stood idly at
+the window.
+
+"The talk of gossips and servants," she repeated bitterly to herself.
+One of Von Holzen's shafts had, at all events, gone home. And Percy
+Roden came into the room a few minutes afterwards. His manner had more
+assurance than when he had first made Mrs. Vansittart's acquaintance.
+He had, perhaps, a trifle less respect for the room and its occupant.
+Mrs. Vansittart had allowed him to come nearer to her; and
+when a woman allows a man of whom she has a low opinion to come near to
+her, she trifles with her own self-respect, and does harm which,
+perhaps, may never be repaired.
+
+"I was too busy to go to the concert this afternoon," he said, sitting
+down in his loose-limbed way.
+
+His assumption that his absence had been noticed rather nettled his
+hearer.
+
+"Ah! Were you not there?" she inquired.
+
+He turned and looked at her with his curt laugh. "If I had been there
+you would have known it," he said.
+
+It was just one of those remarks--delivered in the half-mocking voice
+assumed in self-protection--which Mrs. Vansittart had hitherto allowed
+to pass unchallenged. And now, quite suddenly, she resented the manner
+and the speech.
+
+"Indeed," she said, with a subtle inflection of tone which should have
+warned him.
+
+But he was engaged in drawing down his cuffs. Many young men would know
+more of the world if they had no cuffs or collars to distract them.
+
+"Yes," answered Roden; "if I had gone to the concert it would not have
+been for the music."
+
+Percy Roden's method of making love was essentially modern. He threw to
+Mrs. Vansittart certain scraps of patronage and admiration, which she
+could pick up seriously and keep if she cared to. But he was not going
+to risk a wound to his vanity by taking the initiative too earnestly.
+Mrs. Vansittart, who was busy at the tea-table, set down a cup which
+she had in her hand and crossed the room towards him.
+
+"What do you mean, Mr. Roden?" she asked slowly.
+
+He looked up with wavering eyes, and visibly lost colour under her
+gaze.
+
+"What do I mean?"
+
+"Yes. What do you mean when you say that, if you had gone to the
+concert, it would not have been for the music; that if you had been
+there, I should have known of your presence, and a hundred
+other--impertinences?"
+
+At first Roden thought that the way was being made easy for him as it
+is in books, as, indeed, it sometimes is in life, when it happens to be
+a way that is not worth the treading; but the last word stung him like
+a lash--as it was meant to sting. It was, perhaps, that one word that
+made him rise from his chair.
+
+"If you meant to object to anything that I may say, you should have
+done so long ago," he said. "Who was the first to speak at the hotel
+when I came to The Hague? Which of us was it that kept the friendship
+up and cultivated it? I am not blind. I could hardly be anything else,
+if I had failed to see what you have meant all along."
+
+"What have I meant all along?" she asked, with a strange little smile.
+
+"Why, you have meant me to say such things as I have said, and perhaps
+more."
+
+"More--what can you mean?"
+
+She looked at him still with a smile, which he did not understand. And,
+like many men, he allowed his vanity to explain things which his
+comprehension failed to elucidate.
+
+"Well," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "will you marry me?
+There!"
+
+"No, Mr. Roden, I will not," she answered promptly; and then suddenly
+her eyes flashed, at some recollection, perhaps--at some thought
+connected with her happy past contrasted with this sordid, ignoble
+present.
+
+"You!" she cried. "Marry you!"
+
+"Why," he asked, with a bitter little laugh, "what is there wrong with
+me?"
+
+"I do not know what there is wrong with you. And I am not interested to
+inquire. But, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing right."
+
+A woman's answer after all, and one of those reasons which are no
+reasons, and yet rule the world.
+
+Roden looked at her, completely puzzled. In a flash of thought he
+recalled Dorothy's warning, and her incomprehensible foresight.
+
+"Then," he said, lapsing in his self-forgetfulness into the terse
+language of his everyday life and thought, "what on earth have you been
+driving at all along?"
+
+"I have been driving at Herr von Holzen and the Malgamite scheme. I
+have been helping Tony Cornish," she answered.
+
+So Percy Roden quitted the house at the corner of Park Straat a wiser
+man, and perhaps he left a wiser woman in it.
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Vansittart to Marguerite Wade, long afterwards,
+when a sort of friendship had sprung up and ripened between them--"my
+dear, never let a man ask you to marry him unless you mean to say yes.
+It will do neither of you any good."
+
+And Marguerite, who never allowed another the last word, gave a shrewd
+little nod before she answered--"I always say no--before they ask me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL.
+
+ "There's not a crime--But takes its proper change still out in crime
+If once rung on the counter of this world."
+
+
+Cornish went back to The Hague immediately after Lord Ferriby's funeral
+because it has been decreed that for all men, this large world shall
+sooner or later narrow down to one city, perhaps, or one village, or a
+single house. For a man's life is always centred round a memory or a
+hope, and neither of those requires much space wherein to live. Tony
+Cornish's world had narrowed to the Villa des Dunes on the sandhills of
+Scheveningen, and his mind's eye was always turned in that direction.
+His one thought at this time was to protect Dorothy--to keep, if
+possible, the name she bore from harm and ill-fame. Each day that
+passed meant death to the malgamite workers. He could not delay. He
+dared not hurry. He wrote again to Percy Roden from London, amid the
+hurried preparations for the funeral, and begged him to sever his
+connection with Von Holzen.
+
+
+"You will not have time," he wrote, "to answer this before I leave for
+The Hague. I shall stay on the Toornoifeld as usual, and hope to arrive
+about nine o'clock to-morrow evening. I shall leave the hotel about a
+quarter-past nine and walk down the right-hand bank of the Koninginne
+Gracht, and should like to meet you by the canal, where we can have a
+talk. I have many reasons to submit to your consideration why it will
+be expedient for you to come over to my side in this difference now,
+which I cannot well set down on paper. And remember that between men of
+the world, such as I suppose we may take ourselves to be, there is no
+question of one of us judging the other. Let me beg of you to consider
+your position in regard to the Malgamite scheme--and meet me to-morrow
+night between the Malie Veld and the Achter Weg about half-past nine. I
+cannot see you at the works, and it would be better for you not to come
+to my hotel."
+
+The letter was addressed to the Villa des Dunes, where Roden received
+it the next morning. Dorothy saw it, and guessed from whom it was,
+though she hardly knew her lover's writing. He had adhered firmly to
+his resolution to keep himself in the background until he had finished
+the work he had undertaken. He had not written to her; had scarcely
+seen her. Roden read the letter, and put it in his pocket without a
+word. It had touched his vanity. He had had few dealings with men of
+the standing and position of Cornish, and here was this peer's nephew
+and peer's grandson appealing to him as to a friend, classing him
+together with himself as a man of the world. No man has so little
+discretion as a vain man. It is almost impossible for him to keep
+silence when speech will make for his glorification. Roden arrived at
+the works well pleased with himself, and found Von Holzen in their
+little office, put out, ill at ease, domineering. It was unfortunate,
+if you will. Percy Roden was always ready to perceive his own
+ill-fortune, and looked back later to this as one of his most untoward
+hours. Life, however, should surely consist of seizing the fortunate
+and fighting through the ill moments--else why should men have heart
+and nerve?
+
+In such humours as they found themselves it did not take long for these
+two men to discover a question upon which to differ. It was a mere
+matter of detail connected with the money at that time passing through
+their hands.
+
+"Of course," said Roden, in the course of a useless and trivial
+dispute--"of course you think you know best, but you know nothing of
+finance--remember that. Everybody knows that it is I who have run that
+part of the business. Ask old Wade, or White--or Cornish."
+
+The argument had, in truth, been rather one-sided. For Roden had done
+all the talking, while Von Holzen looked at him with a quiet eye and a
+silent contempt that made him talk all the more. Von Holzen did not
+answer now, though his eye lighted at the mention of Cornish's name. He
+merely looked at Roden with a smile, which conveyed as clearly as words
+Von Holzen's suggestion that none of the three men named would be
+prepared to give Roden a very good character. "I had a letter, by the
+way, from Cornish this morning," said Roden, lapsing into his grander
+manner, which Von Holzen knew how to turn to account.
+
+"Ah--bah!" he exclaimed sceptically. And that lurking vanity of the
+inferior to lessen his own inferiority did the rest.
+
+"If you don't believe me, there you are," said Roden, throwing the
+letter upon the table--not ill-pleased, in the heat of the moment, to
+show that he was a more important person than his companion seemed to
+think.
+
+Von Holzen read the letter slowly and thoughtfully. The fact that it
+was evidently intended for Roden's private eye did not seem to affect
+one or the other of these two men, who had travelled, with difficulty,
+along the road to fortune, only reaching their bourn at last with a
+light stock of scruples and a shattered code of honour. Then he folded
+it, and handed it back. He was not likely to forget a word of it.
+
+"I suppose you will go," he said. "It will be interesting to hear what
+he has to say. That letter is a confession of weakness."
+
+In making which statement Von Holzen showed his own weak point. For,
+like many clever men, he utterly failed to give to women their
+place--the leading place--in the world's history, as in the little
+histories of our daily lives. He never detected Dorothy between every
+line of Cornish's letter, and thought that it had only been dictated by
+inability to meet the present situation.
+
+"I cannot very well refuse to go since the fellow asks me," said Roden,
+grandly. He might as well have displayed his grandeur to a statue. If
+love is blind, self-love is surely half-witted as well, for it never
+sees nor understands that the world is fooling it. Roden failed to heed
+the significant fact that Von Holzen did not even ask him what line of
+conduct he intended to follow with regard to Cornish, nor seek in his
+autocratic way to instruct him on that point; but turned instead to
+other matters and did not again refer to Cornish or the letter he had
+written.
+
+So the day wore on while Cornish impatiently walked the deck of the
+steamer, ploughing its way across the North Sea, through showers and
+thunderstorms and those grey squalls that flit to and fro on the German
+Ocean. And some tons of malgamite were made, while a manufacturer or
+two of the grim product laid aside his tools forever, while the money
+flowed in, and Otto von Holzen thought out his deep silent plans over
+his vats and tanks and crucibles. And all the while those who write in
+the book of fate had penned the last decree.
+
+Cornish arrived punctually at The Hague. He drove to the hotel, where
+he was known, where, indeed, he had never relinquished his room. There
+was no letter for him--no message from Percy Roden. But Von Holzen had
+unobtrusively noted his arrival at the station from the crowded retreat
+of the second-class waiting-room.
+
+The day had been a very hot one, and from canal and dyke arose that
+sedgy odour which comes with the cool of night in all Holland. It is
+hardly disagreeable, and conveys no sense of unhealthiness.
+
+It seems merely to be the breath of still waters, and, in hot weather,
+suggests very pleasantly the relief of northern night. The Hague has
+two dominant smells. In winter, when the canals are frozen, the reek of
+burning-peat is on the air and in the summer the odour of slow waters.
+Cornish knew them both. He knew everything about this old-world city,
+where the turning-point of his life had been fixed. It was deserted
+now. The great houses, the theatre--the show-places--were closed. The
+Toornoifeld was empty.
+
+The hotel porter, aroused by the advent of the traveller from an
+after-dinner nap in his little glass box, spread out his hands with a
+gesture of surprise.
+
+"The season is over," he said. "We are empty. Why you come to The Hague
+now?"
+
+Even the sentries at the end of the Korte Voorhout wore a holiday air
+of laxness, and swung their rifles idly. Cornish noticed that only half
+of the lamps were lighted.
+
+The banks of the Queen's Canal are heavily shaded by trees, which,
+indeed, throw out their branches to meet above the weed-sown water.
+There is a broad thoroughfare on either side of the canal, though
+little traffic passes that way. These are two of the many streets of
+The Hague which seem to speak of a bygone day, when Holland played a
+greater part in the world's history than she does at present, for the
+houses are bigger than the occupants must need, and the streets are too
+wide for the traffic passing through them. In the middle the canal--a
+gloomy corridor beneath the trees--creeps noiselessly towards the sea.
+Cornish was before the appointed hour, and walked leisurely by the
+pathway between the trees and the canal. Soon the houses were left
+behind, and he passed the great open space called the Malie Veld. He
+had met no one since leaving the guard-house. It was a dark night, with
+no moon, but the stars were peeping through the riven clouds.
+
+"Unless he stands under a lamp, I shall not see him," he said to
+himself, and lighted a cigar to indicate his whereabouts to Roden,
+should he elect to keep the appointment. When he had gone a few paces
+farther he saw someone coming towards him. There was a lamp halfway
+between them, and, as he approached the light, Cornish recognized
+Roden. There was no mistaking the long loose stride.
+
+"I wonder," said Cornish, "if this is going to the end?"
+
+And he went forward to meet the financier.
+
+"I was afraid you would not come," he said, in a voice that was
+friendly enough, for he was a man of the world, and in that which is
+called Society (with a capital letter) had rubbed elbows all his life
+with many who had no better reputation than Percy Roden, and some who
+deserved a worse.
+
+"Oh, I don't mind coming," answered Roden, "because I did not want to
+keep you waiting here in the dark. But it is no good, I tell you that
+at the outset."
+
+"And nothing I can say will alter your decision?"
+
+"Nothing. A man does not get two such chances as this in his lifetime. I
+am not going to throw this one away for the sake of a sentiment."
+
+"Sentiment hardly describes the case," said Cornish, thoughtfully. "Do
+you mean to tell me that you do not care about all these deaths--about
+these poor devils of malgamiters?" And he looked hard at his companion
+beneath the lamp.
+
+"Not a d--n," answered Roden. "I have been poor--you haven't. Why, man!
+I have starved inside a good coat. You don't know what that means."
+
+Cornish looked at him, and said nothing. There was no mistaking the
+man's sincerity--nor the manner in which his voice suddenly broke when
+he spoke of hunger.
+
+"Then there are only two things left for me to do," said Cornish, after
+a moment's reflection. "Ask your sister to marry me first, and smash
+you up afterwards."
+
+Roden, who was smoking, threw his cigarette away. "You mean to do both
+these things?"
+
+"Both."
+
+Roden looked at him. He opened his lips to speak, but suddenly leapt
+back.
+
+"Look out!" he cried, and had barely time to point over Cornish's
+shoulder.
+
+Cornish swung round on his heel. He belonged to a school and generation
+which, with all its faults, has, at all events, the redeeming quality
+of courage. He had long learnt to say the right thing, which
+effectually teaches men to do the right thing also. He saw some one
+running towards him, noiselessly, in rubber shoes. He had no time to
+think, and scarce a moment in which to act, for the man was but two
+steps away with an upraised arm, and in the lamplight there flashed the
+gleam of steel.
+
+Cornish concentrated his attention on the upraised arm, seizing it with
+both hands, and actually swinging his assailant off his legs. He knew
+in an instant who it was, without needing to recognize the smell of
+malgamite. This was Otto von Holzen, who had not hesitated to state his
+opinion--that it is often worth a man's while to kill another.
+
+While his feet were still off the ground, Cornish let him go, and he
+staggered away into the darkness of the trees. Cornish, who was lithe
+and quick, rather than of great physical force, recovered his balance
+in a moment, and turned to face the trees. He knew that Von Holzen
+would come back. He distinctly hoped that he would. For man is
+essentially the first of the "game" animals and beneath fine clothes
+there nearly always beats a heart ready, quite suddenly, to snatch the
+fearful joy of battle.
+
+Von Holzen did not disappoint him, but came flying on silent feet, like
+some beast of prey, from the darkness. Cornish had played half-back for
+his school not so many years before. He collared Von Holzen low, and
+let him go, with a cruel skill, heavily on his head and shoulder. Not a
+word had been spoken, and, in the stillness of the summer night, each
+could hear the other breathing.
+
+Roden stood quite still. He could scarcely distinguish the antagonists.
+His own breath came whistling through his teeth. His white face was
+ghastly and twitching. His sleepy eyes were awake now, and staring.
+
+Each charge had left Cornish nearer to the canal. He was standing now
+quite at the edge. He could smell, but he could not see the water, and
+dared not turn his head to look. There is no railing here as there is
+nearer the town.
+
+In a moment, Von Holzen was on his feet again. In the dark, mere inches
+are much equalized between men--but Von Holzen had a knife. Cornish, who
+held nothing in his hands, knew that he was at a fatal disadvantage.
+
+Again, Von Holzen ran at him with his arm outstretched for a swinging
+stab. Cornish, in a flash of thought, recognized that he could not meet
+this. He stepped neatly aside. Von Holzen attempted to stop stumbled,
+half recovered himself, and fell headlong into the canal.
+
+In a moment Cornish and Roden were at the edge, peering into the
+darkness. Cornish gave a breathless laugh.
+
+"We shall have to fish him out," he said.
+
+And he knelt down, ready to give a hand to Von Holzen. But the water,
+smooth again now, was not stirred by so much as a ripple.
+
+"Suppose he can swim?" muttered Roden, uneasily.
+
+And they waited in a breathless silence. There was something horrifying
+in the single splash, and then the stillness.
+
+"Gad!" whispered Cornish. "Where is he?"
+
+Roden struck a match, and held it inside his hat so as to form a sort
+of lantern, though the air was still enough. Cornish did the same, and
+they held the lights out over the water, throwing the feeble rays right
+across the canal.
+
+"He cannot have swum away," he said. "Von Holzen," he cried out
+cautiously, after another pause--"Von Holzen--where are you?"
+
+But there was no answer.
+
+The surface of the canal was quite still and glassy in those parts that
+were not covered by the close-lying duck-weed. The water crept
+stealthily, slimily, towards the sea.
+
+The two men held their breath and waited. Cornish was kneeling at the
+edge of the water, peering over.
+
+"Where is he?" he repeated. "Gad! Roden, where is he?"
+
+And Roden, in a hoarse voice, answered at length "He is in the mud at
+the bottom--head downwards."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+AT THE CORNER.
+
+"L'homme s'agite et Dieu le m�ne."
+
+
+The two men on the edge of the canal waited and listened again. It
+seemed still possible that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness--had
+perhaps landed safely and unperceived on the other side.
+
+"This," said Cornish, at length, "is a police affair. Will you wait here
+while I go and fetch them?"
+
+But Roden made no answer, and in the sudden silence Cornish heard the
+eerie sound of chattering teeth. Percy Roden had morally collapsed.
+His mind had long been t a great tension, and this shock had unstrung
+him. Cornish seized him by the arm, and held him while he hook like a
+leaf and swayed heavily.
+
+"Come, man," said Cornish, kindly--"come, pull yourself together."
+
+He held him steadily and patiently until the shaking eased.
+
+"I'll go," said Roden, at length. "I couldn't stay ere alone."
+
+And he staggered away towards The Hague. It seemed hours before he came
+back. A carriage rattled past Cornish while he waited there, and two
+foot-passengers paused for a moment to look at him with some suspicion.
+
+At last Roden returned, accompanied by a police official--a phlegmatic
+Dutchman, who listened to the story in silence. He shook his head at
+Cornish's suggestion, made in halting Dutch mingled with German, that
+Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness.
+
+"No," said the officer, "I know these canals--and this above all others.
+They will find him, planted in the mud at the bottom, head downward
+like a tulip. The head goes in and the hands are powerless, for they
+only grasp soft mud like a fresh junket." He drew his short sword from
+its sheath, and scratched a deep mark in the gravel. Then he turned to
+the nearest tree, and made a notch on the bark with the blade. "There
+is nothing to be done tonight," he said philosophically. "There are men
+engaged in dredging the canal. I will set them to work at dawn before
+the world is astir. In the mean time"--he paused to return his sword to
+its scabbard--"in the meantime I must have the names and residence of
+these gentlemen. It is not for me to believe or disbelieve their
+story."
+
+"Can you go home alone? Are you all right now?" Cornish asked Roden, as
+he walked away with him towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+"Yes, I can go home alone," he answered, and walked on by himself,
+unsteadily.
+
+Cornish watched him, and, before he had gone twenty yards, Roden
+stopped. "Cornish!" he shouted.
+
+"Yes."
+
+And they walked towards each other.
+
+"I did not know that Von Holzen was there. You will believe that?"
+
+"Yes; I will believe that," answered Cornish.
+
+And they parted a second time. Cornish walked slowly back to the hotel.
+He limped a little, for Von Holzen had in the struggle kicked him on
+the ankle. He suddenly felt very tired, but was not shaken. On the
+contrary, he felt relieved, as if that which he had been attempting so
+long had been suddenly taken from his hands and consummated by a higher
+power, with whom all responsibility rested. He went to bed with a
+mechanical deliberation, and slept instantly. The daylight was
+streaming into the window when he awoke. No one sleeps very heavily at
+The Hague--no one knows why--and Cornish awoke with all his senses
+about him at the opening of his bedroom door. Roden had come in and was
+standing by the bedside. His eyes had a sleepless look. He looked,
+indeed, as if he had been up all night, and had just had a bath.
+
+"I say," he said, in his hollow voice--"I say, get up. They have found
+him--and we are wanted. We have to go and identify him--and all that."
+
+While Cornish was dressing, Roden sat heavily down on a chair near the
+window.
+
+"Hope you'll stick by me," he said, and, pausing, stretched out his
+hand to the washing-stand to pour himself out a glass of water--"I hope
+you'll stick by me. I'm so confoundedly shaky. Don't know what it
+is--look at my hand." He held out his hand, which shook like a
+drunkard's.
+
+"That is only nerves," said Cornish, who was ever optimistic and
+cheerful. He was too wise to weigh carefully his reasons for looking at
+the best side of events. "That is nothing. You have not slept, I
+expect."
+
+"No; I've been thinking. I say, Cornish--you must stick by me--I have
+been thinking. What am I to do with the malgamiters? I cannot manage
+the devils as Von Holzen did. I'm--I'm a bit afraid of them, Cornish."
+
+"Oh, that will be all right. Why, we have Wade, and can send for White
+if we want him. Do not worry yourself about that. What you want is
+breakfast. Have you had any?"
+
+"No. I left the house before Dorothy was awake or the servants were
+down. She knows nothing. Dorothy and I have not hit it off lately."
+
+Cornish made no answer. He was ringing the bell, and ordered coffee
+when the waiter came.
+
+"Haven't met any incident in life yet," he said cheerfully, "that
+seemed to justify missing out meals."
+
+The incident that awaited them was not, however, a pleasant one, though
+the magistrate in attendance afforded a courteous assistance in the
+observance of necessary formalities. Both men made a deposition before
+him.
+
+"I know something," he said to Cornish, "of this malgamite business. We
+have had our eye upon Von Holzen for some time--if only on account of
+the death-rate of the city."
+
+They breathed more freely when they were out in the street. Cornish
+made some unimportant remark, which the other did not answer. So they
+walked on in silence. Presently, Cornish glanced at his companion, and
+was startled at the sight of his face, which was grey, and glazed all
+over with perspiration, as an actor's face may sometimes be at the end
+of a great act. Then he remembered that Roden had not spoken for a long
+time.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Didn't you see?" gasped Roden.
+
+"See what?"
+
+"The things they had laid on the table beside him. The things they
+found in his hands and his pockets."
+
+"The knife, you mean," said Cornish, whose nerves were worthy of the
+blood that flowed in his veins, "and some letters?"
+
+"Yes; the knife was mine. Everybody knows it. It is an old dagger that
+has always lain on a table in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes."
+
+"I have never been in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes, except
+once by lamplight," said Cornish, indifferently.
+
+Roden turned and looked at him with eyes still dull with fear.
+
+"And among the letters was the one you wrote to me making the
+appointment. He must have stolen it from the pocket of my office coat,
+which I never wear while I am working." Cornish was nodding his head
+slowly. "I see," he said, at length--"I see. It was a pretty _coup_. To
+kill me, and fix the crime on you--and hang you?"
+
+"Yes," said Roden, with a sudden laugh, which neither forgot to his
+dying day.
+
+They walked on in silence. For there are times in nearly every man's
+life when events seem suddenly to outpace thought, and we can only act
+as seems best at the moment; times when the babbler is still and the
+busybody at rest; times when the cleverest of us must recognize that
+the long and short of it all is that man agitates himself and God leads
+him. At the corner of the Vyverberg they parted--Cornish to return to
+his hotel, Roden to go back to the works. His carriage was awaiting him
+in a shady corner of the Binnenhof. For Roden had his carriage now,
+and, like many possessing suddenly such a vehicle, spent much time and
+thought in getting his money's worth out of it.
+
+"If you want me, send for me, or come to the hotel," were Cornish's
+last words, as he shut the successful financier into his brougham.
+
+At the hotel, Cornish found Mr. Wade and Marguerite lingering over a
+late breakfast.
+
+"You look," said Marguerite, "as if you had been up to something." She
+glanced at him shrewdly. "Have you smashed Roden's Corner?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, turning to Mr. Wade; "and if you will come out
+into the garden, I will tell you how it has been done. Monsieur Creil
+said that the paper-makers could begin supplying themselves with
+malgamite at a day's notice. We must give them that notice this
+morning."
+
+Mr. Wade, who was never hurried and never late, paused at the open
+window to light his cigar before following Marguerite.
+
+"Ah," he said placidly, "then fortune must have favored you, or
+something has happened to Von Holzen."
+
+Cornish knew that it was useless to attempt to conceal anything
+whatsoever from the discerning Marguerite, so--in the quiet garden of
+the hotel, where the doves murmur sleepily on the tiles, and the breeze
+only stirs the flowers and shrubs sufficiently to disseminate their
+scents--he told father and daughter the end of Roden's Corner.
+
+They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and
+telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events,
+when Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
+
+She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden
+arrival.
+
+"Is Percy here?" she asked Cornish. "Have you seen him this morning?"
+
+"He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the
+Vyverberg. He was going down to the works."
+
+"Then he never got there," said Dorothy. "I have had nearly all the
+malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if
+Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a
+report that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?" "Yes. Von Holzen is
+dead."
+
+"And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out
+the profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury.
+They would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but----"
+
+"But they were afraid of you, my dear," said Mr. Wade, filling in the
+blank that Dorothy left.
+
+"Yes," she admitted.
+
+"Well played," muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
+
+Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. "I will go down to
+the works," he said.
+
+"But you cannot go there alone," put in Dorothy, quickly.
+
+"He will not need to do that," said Mr. Wade, throwing the end of his
+cigar into the bushes, and rising heavily from his chair.
+
+Marguerite looked at her father with a little upward jerk of the head
+and a light in her eyes. It was quite evident that she approved of the
+old gentleman.
+
+"He's a game old thing," she said, aside to Dorothy, while her father
+collected his papers.
+
+"Your brother has probably been warned in time, and will not go near
+the works," said Cornish to Dorothy. "He was more than prepared for
+such an emergency; for he told me himself that he was half afraid of
+the men. He is almost sure to come to me here--in fact, he promised to
+do so if he wanted help."
+
+Dorothy looked at him, and said nothing. The world would be a simpler
+dwelling-place if those who, for one reason or another, cannot say
+exactly what they mean would but keep silence.
+
+Cornish told her, hurriedly, what had happened twelve hours ago on the
+bank of the Queen's Canal; and the thought of the misspent, crooked
+life that had ended in the black waters of that sluggish tideway made
+them all silent for a while. For death is in itself dignified, and
+demands respect for all with whom he has dealings. Many attain the
+distinction of vice in life, while more only reach the mere mediocrity
+of foolishness; but in death all are equally dignified. We may, indeed,
+assume that we shall, by dying, at last command the respect of even our
+nearest relations and dearest friend--for a week or two, until they
+forget us.
+
+"He was a clever man," commented Mr. Wade, shutting up his gold pencil
+case and putting it in the pocket of his comfortable waistcoat. "But
+clever men are rarely happy----"
+
+"And clever women--never," added Marguerite--that shrewd seeker after
+the last word.
+
+While they were still speaking, Percy Roden came hurriedly down the
+steps. He was pale and tired, but his eye had a light of resolution in
+it. He held his head up, and looked at Cornish with a steady glance.
+It seemed that the vague danger which he had anticipated so nervously
+had come at last, and that he stood like a man in the presence of it.
+
+"It is all up," he said. "They have found the books; they have
+understood them; and they are wrecking the place."
+
+"They are quite welcome to do that," said Cornish. Mr. Wade, who was
+always business-like, had reopened his writing-case when he saw Roden,
+and now came forward to hand him a written paper.
+
+"That is a copy," he said, "of the telegram we have sent to Creil. He
+can come here and select what men he wants--the steady ones and the
+skilled workmen. With each man we will hand him a cheque in trust. The
+others can take their money--and go."
+
+"And drink themselves to death as expeditiously as they think fit,"
+added Cornish, the philanthropist--the fashionable drawing-room
+champion of the masses.
+
+"I got back here through the Wood," said Percy Roden, who was still
+breathless, as if he had been hurrying. "One of them, a Swede, came to
+warn me. They are looking for me in the town--a hundred and twenty of
+them, and not one who cares that"--he paused, and gave a snap of the
+fingers--"for his life or the law. Both railway stations are watched,
+and all the steam-boat stations on the canals; they will kill me if
+they catch me."
+
+His eyes wavered, for there is nothing more terrifying than the avowed
+hostility of a mass of men, and no law grimmer than lynch-law. Yet he
+held up his head with a sort of pride in his danger--some touch of that
+subtle sense of personal distinction which seems to reach the heart of
+the victim of an accident, or of a prisoner in the dock.
+
+"If I had not met that Swede I should have gone on to the works, and
+they would have pulled me to pieces there," continued Roden. "I do not
+know how I am to get away from The Hague, or where I shall be safe in
+the whole world; but the money is at Hamburg and Antwerp. The money is
+safe enough."
+
+He gave a laugh and threw back his head. His hearers looked at him, and
+Mr. Wade alone understood his thoughts. For the banker had dealt with
+money-makers all his life and knew that to many men, money is a god,
+and the mere possession of it dearer to them than life itself.
+
+"If you stay here, in my room upstairs," said Cornish, "I will go down
+to the works now. And this evening I will try and get you away from The
+Hague--and from Europe."
+
+"And I will go to the Villa des Dunes again," added Dorothy, "and pack
+your things."
+
+Marguerite had risen also, and was moving towards the steps.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked her father.
+
+"To the Villa des Dunes," she replied; and, turning to Dorothy, added,
+"I shall take some clothes and stay with you there until things
+straighten themselves out a bit."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I cannot let you go there alone."
+
+"Why not?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"Because--I am not that sort," said Marguerite; and, turning, she
+ascended the iron steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+ROUND THE CORNER.
+
+"Les heureux ne rient pas; ils sourient."
+
+
+Soon after Mr. Wade and Cornish had quitted their carriage, on that
+which is known as the New Scheveningen Road, and were walking across
+the dunes to the malgamite works, they met a policeman running towards
+them.
+
+"It is," he answered breathlessly, to their inquiries--"it is the
+English Chemical Works on the dunes, which have caught fire. I am
+hurrying to the Artillery Station to telegraph for the fire-engines;
+but it will be useless. It will all be over in half an hour--by this
+wind and after so much dry weather; see the black smoke, excellencies."
+
+And the man pointed towards a column of smoke, blown out over the
+sand-hills by the strong wind, characteristic of these flat coasts.
+Then, with a hurried salutation, he ran on.
+
+Cornish and Mr. Wade proceeded more leisurely on their way; for the
+banker was not of a build to hurry even to a fire. Before they had gone
+far they perceived another man coming across the Dunes towards The
+Hague. As he approached, Cornish recognized the man known as Uncle Ben.
+He was shambling along on unsteady legs, and carried his earthly
+belongings in a canvas sack of doubtful cleanliness. The recognition
+was apparently mutual; for Uncle Ben deviated from his path to come and
+speak to them.
+
+"It's me, mister," he said to Cornish, not disrespectfully. "And I
+don't mind tellin' yer that I'm makin' myself scarce. That place is
+gettin' a bit too hot for me. They're just pullin' it down and makin' a
+bonfire of it. And if you or Mr. Roden goes there, they'll just take
+and chuck yer on top of it--and that's God's truth. They're a rough lot
+some of them, and they don't distinguish 'tween you and Mr. Roden like
+as I do. Soddim and Gomorrer, I say. Soddim and Gomorrer! There won't
+be nothin' left of yer in half an hour." And he turned and shook a
+dirty fist towards the rising smoke, which was all that remained of the
+malgamite works. He hurried on a few paces, then stopped and laid down
+his bag. He ran back, calling out "Mister!" as he neared Cornish and
+Mr. Wade. "I don't mind tellin' yer," he said to Cornish, with a
+ludicrous precautionary look round the deserted dunes to make sure that
+he would not be overheard; for he was sober, and consequently
+stupid--"I don't mind tellin' yer--seein' as I'm makin' myself scarce,
+and for the sake o' Miss Roden, who has always been a good friend to
+me--as there's a hundred and twenty of 'em looking for Mr. Roden at this
+minute, meanin' to twist his neck; and what's worse, there's
+others--men of dedication like myself--who has gone to the
+murder, or something. And they'll get it too, with the story they've got
+to tell, and them poor devils planted thick as taters in the cheap corner
+of the cemetery. I've warned yer, mister." Uncle Ben expectorated with
+much emphasis, looked towards the malgamite works with a dubious shake
+of the head, and went on his way, muttering, "Soddim and Gomorrer."
+
+His hearers walked on over the sand-hills towards the smoke, of which
+the pungent odour, still faintly suggestive of sealing-wax, reached
+their nostrils. At the top of a high dune, surmounted with considerable
+difficulty, Mr. Wade stopped. Cornish stood beside him, and from that
+point of vantage they saw the last of the malgamite works. Amid the
+flames and smoke the forms of men flitted hither and thither, adding
+fuel to the fire.
+
+"They are, at all events, doing the business thoroughly," said the
+banker. "And there is nothing to be gained by our disturbing them at
+it--and a good deal to be lost--namely, our lives. They are not burning
+the cottages, I see; only the factory. There is nothing heroic about
+me, Tony. Let us go back."
+
+But Mr. Wade returned to The Hague alone; for Cornish had matters of
+importance requiring his attention. It was now doubly necessary to get
+Roden safely away from Holland, and with the necessity increased the
+difficulty. For Holland is a small country, well watched, highly
+civilized. Cornish knew that it would be next to impossible for Roden
+to leave the country by rail or road. There remained, therefore, the
+sea. Cornish had, during his sojourn at the humble Swan at
+Scheveningen, made certain friends there. And it was to the old village
+under the dunes, little known to visitors, and a place apart from the
+fashionable bathing resort, that he went in his difficulty. He spent
+nearly the whole day in these narrow streets; indeed, he lunched at the
+Swan in company of a seafaring gentleman clad in soft blue flannel, and
+addicted to the mediaeval coiffure still affected in certain parts of
+Zeeland.
+
+From this quiet retreat Cornish also wrote a note to Dorothy at the
+Villa des Dunes, informing her of Roden's new danger, and warning her
+not to attempt to communicate with her brother, or even send him his
+baggage. In the afternoon Cornish made a few purchases, which he duly
+packed in a sailor's kit-bag, and at nightfall Roden arrived on foot.
+
+The weather was squally, as it often is in August on these coasts;
+indeed, the summer seemed to have come to an end before its time.
+
+"It is raining like the deuce," said Roden, "and I am wet through,
+though I came under the trees of the Oude Weg."
+
+He spoke with his usual suggestion of a grievance, which made Cornish
+answer him rather curtly--"We shall be wetter before we get on board."
+
+It was raining when they quitted the modest Swan, and hurried through
+the sparsely lighted, winding streets. Cornish had borrowed two
+oil-skin coats and caps, which at once disguised them and protected
+them from the rain. Any passer-by would have taken them for a couple of
+fishermen going about their business. But there were few in the
+streets.
+
+"Why are you doing all this for me?" asked Roden, suddenly.
+"To avoid a scandal," replied Cornish, truthfully enough; for he had
+been brought up in a world where the longevity of scandal is fully
+understood.
+
+The wide stretch of sand was entirely deserted when they emerged from
+the narrow streets and gained the summit of the sea-wall. A
+thunderstorm was growling in the distance, and every moment a flash of
+thin summer lightning shimmered on the horizon. The wind was strong, as
+it nearly always is here, and shallow white surf stretched seaward
+across the flats. The sea roared continuously without that rise and
+fall of the breakers which marks a deeper coast, and from the face of
+the water there arose a filmy mist--part foam, part phosphorescence.
+
+As Roden and Cornish passed the little lighthouse, two policemen
+emerged from the shadow of the wall, and watched them, half
+suspiciously. "Good evening," said one of them.
+
+"Good evening," answered Cornish, mimicking the sing-song accent of the
+Scheveningen streets.
+
+They walked on in silence.
+"Whew!" ejaculated Roden, when the danger seemed to be past, and they
+could breathe again.
+
+They went down a flight of steps to the beach, and stumbled across the
+soft sand towards the sea. One or two boats were lying out in the
+surf--heavy Dutch fishing-boats, known technically as "pinks,"
+flat-bottomed, round-prowed, keel less, heavy and ungainly vessels, but
+strong as wood and iron and workmanship could make them. Some seemed to
+be afloat, others bumped heavily and continuously; while a few lay
+stolidly on the ground with the waves breaking right over them as over
+rocks.
+
+The noise of the sea was so great that Cornish touched his companion's
+arm, and pointed, without speaking, to one of the vessels where a light
+twinkled feebly through the spray breaking over her. It seemed to be
+the only vessel preparing to go to sea on the high tide, and, in truth,
+the weather looked anything but encouraging.
+
+"How are we going to get on board?" shouted Roden, amid the roar of the
+waves.
+
+"Walk," answered Cornish, and he led the way into the sea.
+
+Hampered as they were by their heavy oil skins, their progress was
+slow, although the water barely reached their knees. The _Three
+Brothers_ was bumping when they reached her and clambered on board over
+the bluff sides, sticky with salt water and tar.
+
+"She'll be afloat in ten minutes," said a man in oil-skins, who helped
+them over the low bulwarks. He spoke good English, and seemed to have
+learned some of the taciturnity of the seafaring portion of that nation
+with their language; for he went aft to the tiller without more words
+and took his station there.
+
+Roden seated himself on the rail and looked back towards Scheveningen.
+Cornish stood beside him in silence. The spray broke over them
+continuously, and the boat rolled and bumped in such a manner that it
+was impossible to stand or even sit without holding on to the clumsy
+rigging.
+
+The lights of Scheveningen were stretched out in a line before them;
+the lighthouse winked a glaring eye that seemed to stare over their
+heads far out to sea. The summer lightning showed the sands to be bare
+and deserted. There were no unusual lights on the sea wall. The Kurhaus
+and the hotels were illuminated and gay. The shore took no heed of the
+sea tonight.
+
+"We've succeeded," said Roden, curtly, and quite suddenly he rolled
+over in a faint at Cornish's feet.
+
+The next morning, Dorothy received a letter at the Villa des Dunes,
+posted the evening before by Cornish at Scheveningen.
+
+"We hope to get away tonight," he wrote, "in the 'pink,' the _Three
+Brothers_. Our intention is to knock about the North Sea until we find
+a suitable vessel--either a sailing ship trading between Norway and
+Spain on its way south, or a steamer going direct from Hamburg to South
+America. When I have seen your brother safely on board one of these
+vessels, I shall return in the _Three Brothers_ to Scheveningen. She is
+a small boat, and has a large white patch of new canvas at the top of
+her mainsail. So if you see her coming in, or waiting for the tide, you
+may conclude that your brother is in safety."
+
+Later in the day, Mr. Wade called, having driven from The Hague very
+comfortably in an open carriage.
+
+"The house," he said placidly, "is still watched, but I have no doubt
+that Tony has outwitted them all. Creil arrived last night, and seems a
+capable man. He tells me that half of the malgamiters are in jail at
+The Hague for intoxication and uproariousness last night. He is
+selecting those he wants, and the rest he will send to their homes. So
+we are balancing our affairs very comfortably; and if there is anything
+I can do for you, Miss Roden, I am at your command."
+
+"Oh, Dorothy is all right," said Marguerite, rather hurriedly; and when
+her father took his leave, she slipped her hand within his solid arm,
+and walked with him across the sand towards the carriage. "Haven't you
+seen," she asked--"you old stupid!--that Dorothy is all right? Tony is
+in love with her."
+
+"No," replied the banker, rather humbly--"no, my dear. I am afraid I
+had not noticed it."
+
+Marguerite pressed his arm, not unkindly. "You can't help it," she
+explained. "You are only a man, you know."
+
+The following days were quiet enough at the Villa des Dunes, and it is
+in quiet days that a friendship ripens best. The two girls left there
+scarcely expected to hear of Cornish's return for some days; but they
+fell into the habit of walking towards the sea whenever they went
+out-of-doors, and spent many afternoon hours on the dunes. During these
+hours Dorothy had many confidential and lively conversations with her
+new-found friend. Indeed, confidence and gaiety were so bewilderingly
+mingled that Dorothy did not always understand her companion.
+
+One afternoon, three days after the departure of Percy Roden, when Von
+Holzen was buried, and the authorities had expressed themselves content
+with the verdict that he had come accidentally by his death, Marguerite
+took occasion to congratulate herself, and all concerned, in the fact
+that what she vaguely called "things" were beginning to straighten
+themselves out.
+
+"We are round the corner," she said decisively. "And now papa and I
+shall go home again, and Miss Williams will come back. Miss
+Williams--oh, lord! She is one of those women who have a stick inside
+them instead of a heart. And papa will trot out his young men--likely
+young men from the city. Papa married the bank, you know. And he wants
+ me to marry another bank and live gorgeously ever afterwards. Poor old
+dear!"
+
+"I think he would rather you were happy than gorgeous," said Dorothy,
+with a laugh, who had seen some of the honest banker's perplexity with
+regard to this most delicate financial affair.
+
+"Perhaps he would. At all events, he does his best--his very best. He
+has tried at least fifty of these gentle swains since I came back from
+Dresden--red hair and a temper, black hair and an excellent opinion of
+one's self, fair hair and stupidity. But they wouldn't do--they
+wouldn't do, Dorothy!"
+
+Marguerite paused, and made a series of holes in the sand with her
+walking-stick.
+
+"There was only one," she said quietly, at length. "I suppose there is
+always--only one--eh, Dorothy?"
+
+"I suppose so," answered Dorothy, looking straight in front of her.
+
+Marguerite was silent for a while, looking out to sea with a queer
+little twist of the lips that made her look older--almost a woman. One
+could imagine what she would be like when she was middle-aged, or quite
+old, perhaps.
+
+"He would have done," she said. "Quite easily. He was a million times
+cleverer than the rest--a million times--well, he was quite different,
+I don't know how. But he was paternal. He thought he was much too old,
+so he didn't try----"
+
+She broke off with a light laugh, and her confidential manner was gone
+in a flash. She stuck her stick firmly into the ground, and threw
+herself back on the soft sand.
+
+"So," she cried gaily. _"Vogue la gal�re_. It's all for the best. That
+is the right thing to say when it cannot be helped, and it obviously
+isn't for the best. But everybody says it, and it is always wise to
+pass in with the crowd, and be conventional--if you swing for it."
+
+She broke off suddenly, looking at her companion's face. A few boats
+had been leisurely making for the shore all the afternoon before a
+light wind, and Dorothy had been watching them. They were coming closer
+now.
+
+"Dorothy, do you see the _Three Brothers_?"
+
+"That is the _Three Brothers_," answered Dorothy, pointing with her
+walking-stick.
+
+For a time they were silent, until, indeed, the boat with the patched
+sail had taken the ground gently, a few yards from the shore. A number
+of men landed from her, some of them carrying baskets of fish. One,
+walking apart, made for the dunes, in the direction of the New
+Scheveningen Road.
+
+"And that is Tony," said Marguerite. "I should know his walk--if I saw
+him coming out of the Ark, which, by the way, must have been rather
+like the _Three Brothers_ to look at. He has taken your brother safely
+away, and now he is coming--to take you."
+
+"He may remember that I am Percy's sister," suggested Dorothy.
+
+"It doesn't matter whose sister you are," was the decisive reply.
+"Nothing matters"--Marguerite rose slowly, and shook the sand from her
+dress--"nothing matters, except one thing, and that appears to be a
+matter of absolute chance."
+
+She climbed slowly to the summit of the dune under which they had been
+sitting, and there, pausing, she looked back. She nodded gaily down at
+Dorothy. Then suddenly, she held out her hands before her, and Cornish,
+looking up, saw her slim young form poised against the sky in a mock
+attitude of benediction.
+
+"Bless you, my dears," she cried, and with a short laugh turned and
+walked towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9324-8.txt or 9324-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/9/3/2/9324/
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/9324-8.zip b/9324-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45e4a57
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-8.zip
diff --git a/9324-h.zip b/9324-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c063fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-h.zip
diff --git a/9324-h/9324-h.htm b/9324-h/9324-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..875ac4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324-h/9324-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,12171 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <title>
+      Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+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: Roden's Corner
+
+Author: Henry Seton Merriman
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9324]
+This file was first posted on September 22, 2003
+Last Updated: March 12, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+
+
+
+Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      RODEN'S CORNER
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      By Henry Seton Merriman
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      1913
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                       &ldquo;'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
+                       Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
+                         Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
+                       And one by one back in the Closet lays&rdquo;
+      </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. WORK OR PLAY? </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. BEGINNING AT HOME. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. A NEW DISCIPLE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. OUT OF EGYPT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. ON THE DUNES. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. OFFICIAL. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. DEEPER WATER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. IN THE OUDE WEG. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. SUBURBAN </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. UNSOUND. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. PLAIN SPEAKING. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. DANGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. A COMPLICATION. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. DANGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. FROM THE PAST. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. A COMBINED FORCE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. GRATITUDE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. CLEARING THE AIR </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. COMMERCE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. WITH CARE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. A LESSON. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. AT THE CORNER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Professor von Holzen,&rdquo; said a stout woman who still keeps the
+      egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague; she is
+      a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob Straat and its
+      neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live&mdash;&ldquo;it is the
+      Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or twice a week. He is a
+      good man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His coat is of a good cloth,&rdquo; answered her customer, a young man with a
+      melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things of
+      this world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
+      Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within the
+      doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages. During the
+      daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough, see furtive
+      faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women, who never seem
+      to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those unwashed curtains, with
+      carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere which may be faintly
+      imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop below. The pavement of St.
+      Jacob Straat is also pressed into the service of that commerce in old
+      metal and damaged domestic utensils which seems to enable thousands of the
+      accursed people to live and thrive according to their lights. It will be
+      observed that the vendors, with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred
+      of experience, only expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads,
+      stoves, and other heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of
+      foot. Within the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand
+      miscellaneous effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this
+      street. Even the children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep
+      expressionless eyes and drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the
+      gravity of life, and rarely indulge in games.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed
+      quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire to
+      attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered man
+      with a bad mouth&mdash;a greedy mouth, one would think&mdash;and mild
+      eyes. The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black
+      overcoat closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of
+      slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke
+      learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use being
+      learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took care to
+      dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards the world
+      seemed to say, &ldquo;Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,&rdquo; which is,
+      after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It is, at all
+      events, better than the common attitude of the many, that says, &ldquo;Let us
+      exchange confidences,&rdquo; leading to the barter of two valueless commodities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat&mdash;one of
+      the oldest houses in this old street&mdash;and slowly lighted a cigar.
+      There is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of
+      stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen, having
+      pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and grimy
+      staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the town there
+      is always a human spider lurking in the background, who steals out upon
+      any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This spider presently appeared&mdash;a wizened woman with a face like that
+      of a witch. Von Holzen pointed upward to the room above them. She shook
+      her head regretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still alive,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; he said, extending his fingers. &ldquo;Some milk. How much has he had?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two jugs,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;and three jugs of water. One would say he has a
+      fire inside him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So he has,&rdquo; said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went upstairs.
+      He ascended slowly, puffing out the smoke of his cigar before him with a
+      certain skill, so that his progress was a form of fumigation. The fear of
+      infection is the only fear to which men will own, and it is hard to
+      understand why this form of cowardice should be less despicable than
+      others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation combines courage with so
+      deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes think the former adjunct
+      lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek told that in his student
+      days this man had, after due deliberation, considered it necessary to
+      fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face, might wonder what mark the
+      other student bore as a memento of that encounter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
+      and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place was
+      not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered with
+      many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was, indeed,
+      used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the shop only
+      offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have been a very
+      Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all parts of the world
+      rose up and wrangled in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon a sham Empire table, <i>très antique</i>, near the window, stood
+      three water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
+      stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held it
+      out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have sent for milk,&rdquo; said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful not
+      to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was situated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are kind,&rdquo; said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether its
+      tone was sarcastic or grateful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged his
+      shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth usually
+      indicates a soft heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is because you have something to gain,&rdquo; said the hollow voice from the
+      bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have something to gain, but I can do without it,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen,
+      turning to the door and taking a jug of milk from the hand of a child
+      waiting there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the change,&rdquo; he said sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The child laughed cunningly, and held out two small copper coins of the
+      value of half a cent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a moment
+      later held it out empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have as much as you like,&rdquo; said Von Holzen, kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will it keep me alive?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing can do that, my friend,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen. He looked down at
+      the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be the face
+      of a very aged man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A thickness of
+      speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed gleefully. &ldquo;All the same, I have lived longer than any of
+      them,&rdquo; he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an
+      advantage which others never covet!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, gravely. &ldquo;How old are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly thirty-five,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of
+      the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a fine
+      one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high forehead
+      looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing nearly an inch
+      upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver in life, without curl or
+      ripple. The chin was long and pointed. A face, this, that any would turn
+      to look at again. One would think that such a man would get on in the
+      world. But none may judge of another in this respect. It is a strange fact
+      that intimacy with any who has made for himself a great name leads to the
+      inevitable conclusion that he is unworthy of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonderful!&rdquo; murmured Von Holzen&mdash;&ldquo;wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!&rdquo;
+       And it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that
+      came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it from
+      boyhood,&rdquo; said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado. &ldquo;I did not wait
+      until I was driven to it, like most.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you were skilful, as I have been told.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not all skill&mdash;not all skill,&rdquo; piped the metallic voice,
+      indistinctly. &ldquo;There was knowledge also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin overcoat,
+      shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an oft-trodden path to an
+      ancient point of divergence. Presently Von Holzen turned and went towards
+      the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay stretched out across the table, and
+      Holzen's finger softly found the pulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are weaker,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is only right that I should tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something seemed
+      to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive steps
+      moved away down the dark staircase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go,&rdquo; he said authoritatively, &ldquo;for the doctor, at once.&rdquo; Then he came
+      back towards the bed. &ldquo;Will you take my price?&rdquo; he said to its occupant.
+      &ldquo;I offer it to you for the last time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A thousand gulden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too little money,&rdquo; replied the dying man. &ldquo;Make it twelve hundred.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence seemed
+      to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room. The angel
+      of death, not for the first time, found himself in company with the greed
+      of men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do that,&rdquo; said Von Holzen at length, &ldquo;as you are dying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you the money with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps, that
+      he was sorry that he had not asked more. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil in
+      readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored memory,
+      the dying man dictated a prescription in a mixture of dog-Latin and Dutch,
+      which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The money, in
+      dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The prescription
+      was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and the particulars
+      as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid ingredients filled
+      up another two pages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; said the dying man at length, &ldquo;I have treated you fairly. I have
+      told you all I know. Give me the money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow
+      fingers, which closed over them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said the recipient, &ldquo;I have had more than that in my hand. I was
+      rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing. I
+      will treat you fairly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden. You
+      have made no mistake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore no
+      sign of exultation. His somewhat phlegmatic calm successfully concealed
+      the fact that he had at last obtained information which he had long
+      sought. A cart rattled past over the cobble-stones, making speech
+      inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von Holzen
+      went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching out for it,
+      the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were tightly held by
+      three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at the counterpane.
+      Von Holzen bent over the bed and examined the face. The sick man's eyes
+      were closed. Suddenly he spoke in a mumbling voice&mdash;&ldquo;And now that you
+      have what you want, you will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, &ldquo;I will not do that. I will
+      stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at all
+      events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death
+      cannot be worse, at all events.&rdquo; And the man laughed contentedly enough,
+      as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of them at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting in
+      the air laden with the clean scent of burning peat, which makes the
+      atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a city
+      with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German scientist
+      stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange silence. It
+      was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it was what is known
+      as an antiquity; and although some of these relics of the past had been
+      carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem Straat, others were really
+      of ancient date. The very glass from which the dying man drank his milk
+      dated from the glorious days of Holland when William the Silent pitted his
+      Northern stubbornness and deep diplomacy against the fire and fanaticism
+      of Alva. Many objects in the room had a story, had been in the daily use
+      of hands long since vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human
+      lives lived out and now forgotten. The air itself smelt of age and
+      mouldering memories.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking down.
+      Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow that lay
+      over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was breathing very
+      slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then returned to the
+      dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly his breath caught.
+      There were long pauses during which he seemed to cease to breathe. Then at
+      length followed a pause which merged itself gently into eternity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly
+      unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled notes.
+      Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and restored
+      them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour earlier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor
+      arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid, Herr Doctor,&rdquo; he said, in German, &ldquo;You are too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. WORK OR PLAY?
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+       &ldquo;Get work, get work;
+   Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Two men were driving in a hansom cab westward through Cockspur Street.
+      One, a large individual of a bovine placidity, wore the Queen's uniform,
+      and carried himself with a solid dignity faintly suggestive of a
+      lighthouse. The other, a narrower man, with a keen, fair face and eyes
+      that had an habitual smile, wore another uniform&mdash;that of society. He
+      was well dressed, and, what is rarer carried his fine clothes with such
+      assurance that their fineness seemed not only natural but indispensable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sic transit the glory of this world,&rdquo; he was saying. At this moment three
+      men on the pavement&mdash;the usual men on the pavement at such times&mdash;turned
+      and looked into the cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ere's White!&rdquo; cried one of them. &ldquo;White&mdash;dash his eyes! Brayvo!
+      brayvo, White!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And all three raised a shout which seemed to be taken up vaguely in
+      various parts of Trafalgar Square, and finally died away in the distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is it,&rdquo; said the young man in the frock-coat; &ldquo;that is the glory of
+      this world. Listen to it passing away. There is a policeman touching his
+      helmet. Ah, what a thing it is to be Major White&mdash;to-day! To morrow&mdash;<i>bonjour
+      la gloire</i>!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White, who had dropped his single eye-glass a minute earlier, sat
+      squarely looking out upon the world with a mild surprise. The eye from
+      which the glass had fallen was even more surprised than the other. But
+      this, it seemed, was a man upon whom the passing world made, as a rule,
+      but a passing impression. His attitude towards it was one of dense
+      tolerance. He was, in fact, one of those men who usually allow their
+      neighbours to live in a fool's-paradise, based upon the assumption of a
+      blindness or a stupidity or an indifference, which may or may not be
+      justified by subsequent events.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was, as Tony Cornish, his companion, had hinted, <i>the</i> White of
+      the moment. Just as the reader may be the Jones or the Tomkins of the
+      moment if his soul thirst for glory. Crime and novel-writing are the two
+      broad roads to notoriety, but Major White had practiced neither felony nor
+      fiction. He had merely attended to his own and his country's business in a
+      solid, common-sense way in one of those obscure and tight places into
+      which the British officer frequently finds himself forced by the
+      unwieldiness of the empire or the indiscretion of an effervescent press.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That he had extricated himself and his command from the tight place, with
+      much glory to themselves and an increased burden to the cares of the
+      Colonial Office, was a fact which a grateful country was at this moment
+      doing its best to recognize. That the authorities and those who knew him
+      could not explain how he had done it any more than he himself could, was
+      another fact which troubled him as little. Major White was wise in that he
+      did not attempt to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sort of thing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;generally comes right in the end.&rdquo; And the
+      affair may thus be consigned to that pigeon-hole of the past in which are
+      filed for future reference cases where brilliant men have failed and
+      unlikely ones have covered themselves with sudden and transient glory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been a review of the troops that had taken part in a short and
+      satisfactory expedition of which, by what is usually called a lucky
+      chance, White found himself the hero. He was not of the material of which
+      heroes are made; but that did not matter. The world will take a man and
+      make a hero of him without pausing to inquire of what stuff he may be.
+      Nay, more, it will take a man's name and glorify it without so much as
+      inquiring to what manner of person the name belongs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish, who went everywhere and saw everything, was of course
+      present at the review, and knew all the best people there. He passed from
+      carriage to carriage in his smart way, saying the right thing to the right
+      people in the right words, failing to see the wrong people quite in the
+      best manner, and conscious of the fact that none could surpass him. Then
+      suddenly, roused to a higher manhood by the tramp of steady feet, by the
+      sight of his lifelong friend White riding at the head of his tanned
+      warriors, this social success forgot himself. He waved his silk hat and
+      shouted himself hoarse, as did the honest plumber at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's better work than yours nor mine, mister,&rdquo; said the plumber, when
+      the troops were gone; and Tony admitted, with his ready smile, that it was
+      so. A few minutes later Tony found Major White solemnly staring at a small
+      crowd, which as solemnly stared back at him, on the pavement in front of
+      the Horse Guards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, I have a cab waiting for me,&rdquo; he had said; and White followed him
+      with a mildly bewildered patience, pushing his way gently through the
+      crowd as through a herd of oxen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made no comment, and if he heard sundry whispers of &ldquo;That's 'im,&rdquo; he
+      was not unduly elated. In the cab he sat bolt upright, looking as if his
+      tunic was too tight, as in all probability it was. The day was hot, and
+      after a few jerks he extracted a pocket-handkerchief from his sleeve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I was going to Cambridge Terrace. Joan sent me a card this morning
+      saying that she wanted to see me,&rdquo; explained Tony Cornish. He was a young
+      man who seemed always busy. His long thin legs moved quickly, he spoke
+      quickly, and had a rapid glance. There was a suggestion of superficial
+      haste about him. For an idle man, he had remarkably little time on his
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White took up his eye-glass, examined it with short-sighted earnestness,
+      and screwed it solemnly into his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cambridge Terrace?&rdquo; he said, and stared in front of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Have you seen the Ferribys since your glorious return to these&mdash;er&mdash;shores?&rdquo;
+       As he spoke, Cornish gave only half of his attention. He knew so many
+      people that Piccadilly was a work of considerable effort, and it is
+      difficult to bow gracefully from a hansom cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't say I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then come in and see them now. We shall find only Joan at home, and she
+      will not mind your fine feathers or the dust and circumstance of war upon
+      your boots. Lady Ferriby will be sneaking about in the direction of
+      Edgware Road&mdash;fish is nearly two pence a pound cheaper there, I
+      understand. My respected uncle is sure to be sunning his waistcoat in
+      Piccadilly. Yes, there he is. Isn't he splendid? How do, uncle?&rdquo; and
+      Cornish waved a grey Suède glove with a gay nod.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are the Ferribys?&rdquo; inquired Major White, who belonged to the curt
+      school.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they seem to be well. Uncle is full of that charity which at all
+      events has its headquarters in the home counties. Aunt&mdash;well, aunt is
+      saving money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Miss Ferriby?&rdquo; inquired White, looking straight in front of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish glanced quickly at his companion. &ldquo;Oh, Joan?&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She is
+      all right. Full of energy, you know&mdash;all the fads in their courses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You get 'em too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes; I get them too. Buttonholes come and buttonholes go. Have you
+      noticed it? They get large. Neapolitan violets all over your left shoulder
+      one day, and no flowers at all the week after.&rdquo; Cornish spoke with a
+      gravity befitting the subject. He was, it seemed a student of human nature
+      in his way. &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he added, laying an impressive forefinger on
+      White's gold-laced cuff, &ldquo;it would never do if the world remained
+      stationary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said the major, darkly. &ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were talking to pass the time. Joan Ferriby had come between them, as
+      a woman is bound to come between two men sooner or later. Neither knew
+      what the other thought of Joan Ferriby, or if he thought of her at all.
+      Women, it is to be believed, have a pleasant way of mentioning the name of
+      a man with such significance that one of their party changes colour. When
+      next she meets that man she does it again, and perhaps he sees it, and
+      perhaps his vanity, always on the alert, magnifies that unfortunate blush.
+      And they are married, and live unhappily ever afterwards. And&mdash;let us
+      hope there is a hell for gossips. But men are different in their
+      procedure. They are awkward and <i>gauche</i>. They talk of newspaper
+      matters, and on the whole there is less harm done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hansom cab containing these two men pulled up jerkily at the door of
+      No. 9, Cambridge Terrace. Tony Cornish hurried to the door, and rang the
+      bell as if he knew it well. Major White followed him stiffly. They were
+      ushered into a library on the ground floor, and were there received by a
+      young lady, who, pen in hand, sat at a large table littered with newspaper
+      wrappers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am addressing the Haberdashers' Assistants,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but I am very
+      glad to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Joan Ferriby was one of those happy persons who never know a doubt.
+      One must, it seems, be young to enjoy this nineteenth-century immunity.
+      One must be pretty&mdash;it is, at all events, better to be pretty&mdash;and
+      one must dress well. A little knowledge of the world, a decisive way of
+      stating what pass at the moment for facts, a quick manner of speaking&mdash;and
+      the rest comes <i>tout seul</i>. This cocksureness is in the atmosphere of
+      the day, just as fainting and curls and an appealing helplessness were in
+      the atmosphere of an earlier Victorian period.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Ferriby stood, pen in hand, and laughed at the confusion on the table
+      in front of her. She was eminently practical, and quite without that
+      self-consciousness which in a bygone day took the irritating form of
+      coyness. Major White, with whom she shook hands <i>en camarade</i>, gazed
+      at her solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are the Haberdashers' Assistants?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Ferriby sat down with a grave face. &ldquo;Oh, it is a splendid charity,&rdquo;
+       she answered. &ldquo;Tony will tell you all about it. It is an association of
+      which the object is to induce people to give up riding on Saturday
+      afternoons, and to lend their bicycles to haberdashers' assistants who
+      cannot afford to buy them for themselves. Papa is patron.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked quickly from one to the other. He had always felt that
+      Major White was not quite of the world in which Joan and he moved. The
+      major came into it at times, looked around him, and then moved away again
+      into another world, less energetic, less advanced, less rapid in its
+      changes. Cornish had never sought to interest his friend in sundry good
+      works in which Joan, for instance, was interested, and which formed a
+      delightful topic for conversation at teatime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so splendid,&rdquo; said Joan, gathering up her papers, &ldquo;to feel that one
+      is really doing something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she looked up into White's face with an air of grave enthusiasm which
+      made him drop his eye-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; he answered, rather vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had already seated himself at the table, and was folding the
+      addressed newspaper wrappers over circulars printed on thick note-paper.
+      This seemed a busy world into which White had stepped. He looked rather
+      longingly at the newspaper wrappers and the circulars, and then lapsed
+      into the contemplation of Joan's neat fingers as she too fell to the work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We saw all about you,&rdquo; said the girl, in her bright, decisive way, &ldquo;in
+      the newspapers. Papa read it aloud. He is always reading things aloud now,
+      out of the <i>Times</i>. He thinks it is good practice for the platform, I
+      am sure. We were all&rdquo;&mdash;she paused and banged her energetic fist down
+      upon a pile of folded circulars which seemed to require further pressure&mdash;&ldquo;very
+      proud, you know, to know you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord!&rdquo; ejaculated White, fervently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; asked Miss Ferriby, looking up. She had expressive eyes,
+      and they now flashed almost angrily. &ldquo;All English people&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       she began, and broke off suddenly, throwing aside the papers and rising
+      quickly to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on White's tunic. &ldquo;Is that a
+      medal?&rdquo; she asked, hurrying towards him. &ldquo;Oh, how splendid! Look, Tony,
+      look! A medal! Is it&rdquo;&mdash;she paused, looking at it closely&mdash;&ldquo;is it&mdash;the
+      Victoria Cross?&rdquo; she asked, and stood looking from one man to the other,
+      her eyes glistening with something more than excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;yes,&rdquo; admitted White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish had risen to his feet also. He held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. Tony and Joan returned to their circulars in an odd
+      silence. The Haberdashers' Assistants seemed suddenly to have diminished
+      in importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By-the-by,&rdquo; said Joan Ferriby at length, &ldquo;papa wants to see you, Tony. He
+      has a new scheme. Something very large and very important. The only
+      question is whether it is not too large. It is not only in England, but in
+      other countries. A great international affair. Some distressed
+      manufacturers or something. I really do not quite know. That Mr. Roden&mdash;you
+      remember?&mdash;has been to see him about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish nodded in his quick way. &ldquo;I remember Roden,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;The man
+      you met at Hombourg. Tall dark man with a tired manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;He has been to see papa several times. Papa is just
+      as busy as ever with his charities,&rdquo; she continued, addressing White. &ldquo;And
+      I believe he wants you to help him in this one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; said White, nervously. &ldquo;Oh, I'm no good. I should not know a
+      haberdasher's assistant if I saw him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but this is not the Haberdashers' Assistants,&rdquo; laughed Joan. &ldquo;It is
+      something much more important than that. The Haberdashers' Assistants are
+      only&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pour passer le temps,&rdquo; suggested Cornish, gaily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, of course not. But papa is really rather anxious about this. He says
+      it is much the most important thing he has ever had to do with&mdash;and
+      that is saying a good deal, you know. I wish I could remember the name of
+      it, and of those poor unfortunate people who make it&mdash;whatever it is.
+      It is some stuff, you know, and sounds sticky. Papa has so many charities,
+      and such long names to them. Aunt Susan says it is because he was so wild
+      in his youth&mdash;but one cannot believe that. Would you think that papa
+      had been wild in his youth&mdash;to look at him now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord, no!&rdquo; ejaculated White, with pious solidity, throwing back his
+      shoulders with an air that seemed to suggest a readiness to fight any man
+      who should hint at such a thing, and he waved the mere thought aside with
+      a ponderous gesture of the hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan had, however, already turned to another matter. She was consulting a
+      diary bound in dark blue morocco.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see, now,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Papa told me to make an appointment with
+      you. When can you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish produced a minute engagement-book, and these two busy people put
+      their heads together in the search for a disengaged moment. Not only in
+      mind, but in face and manner, they slightly resembled each other, and
+      might, by the keen-sighted, have been set down at once as cousins. Both
+      were fair and slightly made, both were quick and clever. Both faced the
+      world with an air of energetic intelligence that bespoke their intention
+      of making a mark upon it. Both were liable to be checked in a moment of
+      earnest endeavour by a sudden perception of the humorous, which liability
+      rendered them somewhat superficial, and apt of it lightly from one thought
+      to another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could remember the name of papa's new scheme,&rdquo; said Joan, as she
+      bade them good-bye. When they were in the cab she ran to the door. &ldquo;I
+      remember,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I remember now. It is malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. BEGINNING AT HOME.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but it does
+     not relieve all the misery it creates.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Charity, as all the world knows, should begin at an &ldquo;at home.&rdquo; Lord
+      Ferriby knew as well as any that there are men, and perhaps even women,
+      who will give largely in order that their names may appear largely and
+      handsomely in the select subscription lists. He also knew that an
+      invitation card in the present is as sure a bait as the promise of bliss
+      hereafter. So Lady Ferriby announced by card (in an open envelope with a
+      halfpenny stamp) that she should be &ldquo;at home&rdquo; to certain persons on a
+      certain evening. And the good and the great flocked to Cambridge Terrace.
+      The good and great are, one finds, a little mixed, from a social point of
+      view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were present at Lady Ferriby's, for instance, a number of ministers,
+      some cabinet, others dissenting. Here, a man leaning against the wall wore
+      a blue ribbon across his shirt front. There, another, looking bigger and
+      more self-confident, had no shirt front at all. His was the cheap
+      distinction of unsuitable clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! Miss Ferriby, glad to see you,&rdquo; he said as he entered, holding out a
+      hand which had the usual outward signs of industrial honesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan shook the hand frankly, and its possessor passed on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that the gas-man?&rdquo; inquired Major White, gravely. He had been standing
+      beside her ever since his arrival, seeking, it seemed, the protection of
+      one who understood these social functions. It is to be presumed that the
+      major was less bewildered than he looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; And Joan said something hurriedly in White's large ear. &ldquo;Everybody
+      has him,&rdquo; she concluded; and the explanation brought certain calm into the
+      mildly surprised eye behind the eye-glass. White recognized the phrase and
+      its conclusive contemporary weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a flat-backed man!&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a ring of relief. &ldquo;Been
+      drilled, this man. Gad! He's proud!&rdquo; added the major, as the new-comer
+      passed Joan with rather a cold bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's the detective,&rdquo; explained Joan. &ldquo;So many people, you know; and
+      so mixed. Everybody has them. Here's Tony&mdash;at last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish was indeed making his way through the crowd towards them. He
+      shook hands with a bishop as he elbowed a path across the room, and did it
+      with the pious face of a self-respecting curate. The next minute he was
+      prodding a sporting baronet in the ribs at the precise moment when that
+      nobleman reached the point of his little story and on the precise rib
+      where he expected to be prodded. It is always wise to do the expected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the sight of Tony Cornish, Joan's face became grave, and she turned
+      towards him with her little frown of preoccupation, such as one might
+      expect to find upon the face of a woman concerned in the great movements
+      of the day. But before Tony reached her the expression changed to a very
+      feminine and even old-fashioned one of annoyance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, here comes mother!&rdquo; she said, looking beyond Cornish, who was indeed
+      being pursued by a wizened little old lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby, it seemed, was not enjoying herself. She glanced
+      suspiciously from one face to another, as if she was seeking a friend
+      without any great hope of finding one. Perhaps, like many another, she
+      looked upon the world from that point Of view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish hurried up and shook hands. &ldquo;Plenty of people,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; answered Joan, earnestly. &ldquo;It only shows that there is, after
+      all, a great deal of good in human nature, that in such a movement as this
+      rich and poor, great and small, are all equal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish nodded in his quick sympathetic way, accepting as we all accept
+      the social statements of the day, which are oft repeated and never
+      weighed. Then he turned to White and tapped that soldier's arm
+      emphatically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Way to get on nowadays,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is to be prominent in some great
+      movement for benefiting mankind.&rdquo; Joan heard the words, and, turning,
+      looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan,&rdquo; he said, with a gravity
+      which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off instantly, as if
+      swept away by the ready smile which came again. A close observer might
+      have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary never
+      changed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment&mdash;a silent, querulous-looking
+      woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
+      wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which commands
+      respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady Ferriby, and
+      had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when she approached.
+      And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance, her bent and
+      shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with a romantic past.
+      It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion of Lady Ferriby's
+      world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and recognized the
+      melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic attachment in the
+      days of one's youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony,&rdquo; said her ladyship, &ldquo;they have eaten all the sandwiches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony
+      Cornish's arm with her fan that suggested in a far-off, cold way that this
+      social butterfly had reached one of the still strings of her heart. Who
+      knows? There may have been, in those dim days when Lady Ferriby had played
+      her part in the romantic story which all hinted at and none knew, another
+      such as Tony Cornish&mdash;gay and debonair, careless, reckless, and yet
+      endowed with the power of making some poor woman happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear aunt,&rdquo; replied Cornish, with a levity with which none other ever
+      dared to treat her, &ldquo;the benevolent are always greedy. And each additional
+      virtue&mdash;temperance, loving-kindness, humility&mdash;only serves to
+      dull the sense of humour and add to the appetite. Give them biscuits,
+      aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And offering her his arm, he good-naturedly led her to the
+      refreshment-room to investigate the matter. As she passed through the
+      crowded rooms, she glanced from face to face with her quick, seeking look.
+      She cordially disliked all these people. And their principal crime was
+      that they ate and drank. For Lady Ferriby was a miser.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+At the upper end of the room a low platform served as a safe retreat
+for sleepy chaperons on such occasions as the annual Ferriby ball.
+ To-night there were no chaperons. Is not charity the safest as well as
+the most lenient of these? And does her wing not cover a multitude of
+indiscretions?
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Upon this platform there now appeared, amid palms and chrysanthemums, a
+      long, rotund man like a bolster. He held a paper in his hand and wore a
+      platform smile. His attitude was that of one who hesitated to demand
+      silence from so well-bred a throng. His high, narrow forehead shone in the
+      light of the candelabra. This was Lord Ferriby&mdash;a man whose best
+      friend did his best for him in describing him as well-meaning. He gave a
+      cough which had sufficient significance in it to command a momentary
+      quiet. During the silence, a well-dressed parson stood on tiptoe and
+      whispered something in Lord Ferriby's ear. The suggestion, whatever it may
+      have been, was negated by the speaker on receipt of a warning shake of the
+      head from Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Er&mdash;ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, and gained the
+      necessary silence. &ldquo;Er&mdash;you all know the purpose of our meeting here
+      to-night. You all know that Lady Ferriby and myself are much honoured by
+      your presence here. And&mdash;er&mdash;I am sure&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; He did
+      not, however, appear to be quite sure, for he consulted his paper, and the
+      colonial bishop near the yellow chrysanthemums said, &ldquo;Hear, hear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sure that we are, one and all, actuated by a burning desire to
+      relieve the terrible distress which has been going on unknown to us in our
+      very midst.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has missed out half a page,&rdquo; said Joan to Major White, who somehow
+      found himself at her side again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is no place, and we have at the moment no time, to go into the
+      details of the manufacture of malgamite. Suffice it to say, that such a&mdash;er&mdash;composition
+      exists, and that it is a necessity in the manufacture of paper. Now,
+      ladies and gentlemen, the painful fact has been brought to light by my
+      friend Mr. Roden&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; His lordship paused, and looked round with
+      a half-fledged bow, but failed to find Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By&mdash;er&mdash;Mr. Roden that the manufacture of malgamite is one of
+      the deadliest of industries. In fact, the makers of malgamite, and
+      fortunately they are comparatively few in number, stricken as they are by
+      a corroding disease, occupy in our midst the&mdash;er&mdash;place of the
+      lepers of the Bible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Lord Ferriby bowed affably to the bishop, as if to say, &ldquo;And that is
+      where <i>you</i> come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&mdash;er&mdash;live in an age,&rdquo; went on Lord Ferriby&mdash;and the
+      practical Joan nodded her head to indicate that he was on the right track
+      now&mdash;&ldquo;when charity is no longer a matter of sentiment, but rather a
+      very practical and forcible power in the world. We do not ask your
+      assistance in a vague and visionary crusade against suffering. We ask you
+      to help us in the development of a definite scheme for the amelioration of
+      the condition of our fellow-beings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby spoke not with the ease of long practice, but with the
+      assurance of one accustomed to being heard with patience. He now waited
+      for the applause to die away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who put him up to it?&rdquo; Major White asked Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Roden wrote the speech, and I taught it to papa,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Cornish hurried up in his busy way. Indeed, these people
+      seemed to have little time on their hands. They belonged to a generation
+      which is much addicted to unnecessary haste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seen Roden?&rdquo; he asked, addressing his question to Joan and her companion
+      jointly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never in my life,&rdquo; answered Major White. &ldquo;Is he worth seeing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Cornish hurried away again. Lord Ferriby was still speaking, but he
+      seemed to have lost the ear of his audience, and had lapsed into
+      generalities. A few who were near the platform listened attentively
+      enough. Some who hoped that they were to be asked to speak applauded
+      hurriedly and finally whenever the speaker paused to take breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The world is full of people who will not give their money, but offer
+      readily enough what they call their &ldquo;time&rdquo; to a good cause. Lord Ferriby
+      was lavish with his &ldquo;time,&rdquo; and liked to pass it in hearing the sound of
+      his own voice. Every social circle has its talkers, who hang upon each
+      other's periods in expectance of the moment when they can successfully
+      push in their own word. Lord Ferriby, looking round upon faces well known
+      to him, saw half a dozen men who spoke upon all occasions with a sublime
+      indifference to the fact that they knew nothing of the subject in hand.
+      With the least encouragement any one of them would have stepped on to the
+      platform bubbling over with eloquence. Lord Ferriby was quite clever
+      enough to perceive the danger. He must go on talking until Roden was
+      found. Had not the pushing parson already intimated in a whisper that he
+      had a few earnest thoughts in his mind which he would be glad to get off?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby knew those earnest thoughts, and their inevitable tendency to
+      send the audience to the refreshment-room, where, as Lady Ferriby's
+      husband, he suspected poverty in the land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not Mr. Cornish going to speak?&rdquo; a young lady eagerly inquired of
+      Joan. She was a young lady who wore spectacles and scorned a fringe&mdash;a
+      dangerous course of conduct for any young woman to follow. But she made up
+      for natural and physical deficiencies by an excess of that zeal which
+      Talleyrand deplored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;He never speaks in public, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder why?&rdquo; said the young lady, sharply and rather angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She sometimes wondered why
+      herself, but Tony had never satisfied her curiosity. The young lady moved
+      away and talked to others of the same matter. There were quite a number of
+      people in the room who wanted to know why Tony Cornish did not speak, and
+      wished he would. The way to rule the world is to make it want something,
+      and keep it wanting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I make so bold as to hope,&rdquo; Lord Ferriby was saying, &ldquo;that when
+      sufficient publicity has been given to our scheme we shall be able to
+      raise the necessary funds. In the fulness of this hope, I have ventured to
+      jot down the names of certain gentlemen who have been kind enough to
+      assume the trusteeship. I propose, therefore, that the trustees of the
+      Malgamite Fund shall be&mdash;er&mdash;myself&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a practiced speaker, Lord Ferriby paused for the applause which duly
+      followed. And certain elderly gentlemen, who had been young when Marmaduke
+      Ferriby was young, looked with much interest at the pictures on the wall.
+      That Lord Ferriby should assume the directorship of a great charity was to
+      send that charity on its way rejoicing. He stood smiling benevolently and
+      condescendingly down upon the faces turned towards him, and rejoiced
+      inwardly over these glorious obsequies of a wild and deplorable past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Anthony Cornish,&rdquo; he read out, and applause made itself heard again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the listeners turned round and stared at that hero, whom they
+      discovered calmly and stolidly entrenched behind the eye-glass, his broad,
+      tanned face surmounting a shirt front of abnormal width.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No one seemed to know Herr von Holzen, or to care much whether he existed
+      or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;my&mdash;er&mdash;friend&mdash;the originator of this great
+      scheme&mdash;the man whom we all look up to as the benefactor of a most
+      miserable class of men&mdash;Mr. Percy Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby meant the listeners to applaud, and they did so, although
+      they had never heard the name before. He folded the paper held in his
+      hand, and indicated by his manner that he had for the moment nothing more
+      to say. From his point of advantage he scanned the whole length of the
+      large room, evidently seeking some one. Anthony Cornish had been the
+      second name mentioned, and the majority hoped that it was he who was to
+      speak next. They anticipated that he, at all events, would be lively, and
+      in addition to this recommendation there hovered round his name that
+      mysterious charm which is in itself a subtle form of notoriety. People
+      said of Tony Cornish that he would get on in the world; and upon this
+      slender ladder he had attained social success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Cornish was not in the room, and after waiting a few moments, Lord
+      Ferriby came down from the platform, and joined some of the groups of
+      persons in the large room. For already the audience was breaking up into
+      small parties, and the majority, it is to be feared, were by now talking
+      of other matters. In these days we cannot afford to give sufficient time
+      to any one object to do that object or ourselves any lasting good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently there was a stir at the door, and Cornish entered the large
+      room, followed leisurely by a tired-looking man, for whom the idlers near
+      the doorway seemed instinctively to make way. This man was tall,
+      square-shouldered, and loose of limb. He had smooth dark hair, and carried
+      his head thrown rather back from the neck. His eyes were dark, and the
+      fact that a considerable line of white was visible beneath the pupil
+      imparted to his whole being an air of physical delicacy suggestive of a
+      constant feeling of fatigue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid curiosity
+      which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that,&rdquo; said Joan, looking towards the door&mdash;&ldquo;that is Mr. Percy
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. A NEW DISCIPLE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Pour être heureux, il ne faut avoir rien à oublier.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      There is in the atmosphere of the Hotel of the Vieux Doelen at The Hague
+      something as old-world, as quiet and peaceful, as there is in the very
+      name of this historic house. The stairs are softly carpeted; the great
+      rooms are hung with tapestry, and otherwise decorated in a massive and
+      somewhat gloomy style, little affected in the newer <i>caravanserais</i>.
+      The house itself, more than three hundred years old, is of dark red brick
+      with facings of stone, long since worn by wind and weather. The windows
+      are enormous, and would appear abnormal in any other city but this. The
+      Hotel of the Old Shooting gallery stands on the Toornoifeld and the
+      unobservant may pass by without distinguishing it from the private houses
+      on either side. This, indeed, is not so much a house of hasty rest for the
+      passing traveler as it is a halting-place for that great army which is
+      ever moving quietly on and on through the cities of the Old World&mdash;the
+      corps diplomatique&mdash;the army whose greatest victory is peace. The
+      traveller passing a night or two at the hotel may well be faintly
+      surprised at the atmosphere in which he finds himself. If he be what is
+      called a practical man, he will probably shake his head forebodingly over
+      the prospects of the proprietor. There seems, indeed, to be a singular
+      dearth of visitors. The winding stairs are nearly always deserted. The <i>salon</i>
+      is empty. There are no sounds of life, no trunks in the hall, and no
+      idlers at the door. And yet at the hour of the <i>table d'hôte</i> quiet
+      doors are opened, and quiet men emerge from rooms that seemed before to be
+      uninhabited. They are mostly smooth-haired men with a pensive reserve of
+      manner, a certain polished cosmopolitan air, and the inevitable
+      frock-coat. They bow gravely to each other, and seat themselves at
+      separate tables. As often as not they produce books or newspapers, and
+      read during the solemn meal. It is as well to watch these men and take
+      note of them. Many of them are grey-headed. No one of them is young. But
+      they are beginners, mere apprentices, at a very difficult trade, and in
+      the days to come they will have the making of the history of Europe. For
+      these men are attachés and secretaries of embassies. They will talk to you
+      in almost any European tongue you may select, but they are not
+      communicative persons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the winter&mdash;the gay season at The Hague&mdash;there are
+      usually a certain number of residents in the hotel. At the time with which
+      we are dealing, Mrs. Vansittart was staying there, alone with her maid.
+      Mrs. Vansittart was in the habit of dining at the small table near the
+      stove&mdash;a gorgeous erection of steel and brass, which stands nearly in
+      the centre of the smaller dining-room used in winter. Mrs. Vansittart
+      seemed, moreover, to be quite at home in the hotel, and exchanged bows
+      with a few of the gentlemen of the corps diplomatique. She was a graceful,
+      dark-haired woman, with deep brown eyes that looked upon the world without
+      much interest. This was not, one felt, a woman to lavish her attention or
+      her thoughts upon a toy spaniel, as do so many ladies travelling alone
+      with their maids in Continental hotels. Perhaps this woman of thirty-five
+      years or so preferred to be frankly bored, rather than set up for herself
+      a shivering four-legged object in life. Perhaps she was not bored at all.
+      One never knows. The gentlemen from the embassies glanced at her over
+      their books or their newspapers, and wondered who and what she might be.
+      They knew, at all events, that she took no interest in those affairs of
+      the great world which rumble on night and day without rest, with spasmodic
+      bursts of clumsy haste, and with a never-failing possibility of surprise
+      in their movements. This was no political woman, whatever else she might
+      be. She would talk in quite a number of languages of such matters as the
+      opera, a new book, or an old picture, and would then relapse again into a
+      sort of waiting silence. At thirty-five it is perhaps not well to wait too
+      patiently for those things that make a woman's life worth living. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had not the air, however, of one who would wait indefinitely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Mr. Percy Roden arrived at the hotel, he was assigned, at the hour of
+      <i>table d'hôte</i>, a small table between those occupied respectively by
+      Mrs. Vansittart and the secretary of the Belgian Embassy. Some subtle
+      sense conveyed to Percy Roden that he had aroused Mrs. Vansittart's
+      interest&mdash;the sense called vanity, perhaps, which conveys so much to
+      young men, and so much that is erroneous. On the second evening,
+      therefore, when he had returned from a busy day in the neighbourhood of
+      Scheveningen, Roden half looked for the bow which was half accorded to
+      him. That evening Mrs. Vansittart spoke to the waiter in English, which
+      was obviously her native language, and Roden overheard. After dinner Mrs.
+      Vansittart lingered in the <i>salon</i> and a woman, had such been
+      present, would have perceived that she made it easy for Roden to pause in
+      passing and offer her his English newspaper, which had arrived by the
+      evening post. The subtle is so often the obvious that to be unobservant is
+      a social duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I like newspapers. Although I have not been in
+      England for years, I still take an interest in the affairs of my country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her manner was easy and natural, without that taint of a too sudden
+      familiarity which is characteristic of the present generation. We are apt
+      to allow ourselves to feel too much at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, on the contrary,&rdquo; replied Roden, with his tired air, &ldquo;have never till
+      now been out of England or English-speaking colonies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His voice had a hollow sound. Although he was tall and broad-shouldered,
+      his presence had no suggestion of strength. Mrs. Vansittart looked at him
+      quickly as she took the newspaper from his hand. She had clever,
+      speculative eyes, and was obviously wondering why he had gone to the
+      colonies and why he had returned thence. So many sail to those distant
+      havens of the unsuccessful under one cloud and return under another, that
+      it seems wiser to remain stationary and snatch what passing sunshine there
+      may be. Roden had not a colonial manner. He was well dressed. He was, in
+      fact, the sort of man who would pass in any society. And it is probable
+      that Mrs. Vansittart summed him up in her quick mind with perfect success.
+      Despite our clothes, despite our airs and graces, we mostly appear to be
+      exactly what we are. Mrs. Vansittart, who knew the world and men, did not
+      need to be informed by Percy Roden that he was unacquainted with the
+      Continent. Comparing him with the other men passing through the <i>salon</i>
+      to their rooms or their club, it became apparent that he had one sort of
+      stiffness which they had not, and lacked another sort of stiffness which
+      grows upon those who live and take their meals in public places. Mrs.
+      Vansittart could probably have made a fair guess at the sort of education
+      Percy Roden had received. For a man carries his school mark through life
+      with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, taking the newspaper and glancing at it with just
+      sufficient interest to prolong the conversation, &ldquo;then you do not know The
+      Hague. It is a place that grows upon one. It is one of the social capitals
+      of the world. Vienna, St. Petersburg, Paris, are the others. Madrid,
+      Berlin, New York, are&mdash;nowhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed, bowed with a little half&mdash;foreign gesture of thanks, and
+      left him&mdash;left him, moreover, with the desire to see more of her. It
+      seemed that she knew the secret of that other worldling, Tony Cornish,
+      that the way to rule men is to make them want something and keep them
+      wanting. As Roden passed through the hall he paused, and entered into
+      conversation with the hall porter. During the course of this talk he made
+      some small inquiries respecting Mrs. Vansittart. That lady had no need to
+      make inquiries respecting Roden. Has it not been stated that she was
+      travelling with her maid?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she said, when she saw him again the next day after dinner in the
+      <i>salon</i>, &ldquo;that your great philanthropic scheme is now an established
+      fact. I have taken a great interest in its progress, and of course know
+      the names of some who are associated with you in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden laughed indifferently, well pleased to be recognized. His notoriety
+      was new enough and narrow enough to please him still. There is no man so
+      much at the mercy of his own vanity as he who enjoys a limited notoriety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;we have got it into shape. Do you know Lord Ferriby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, slowly, &ldquo;I have not that pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Ferriby is a good enough fellow,&rdquo; said Roden, kindly; and Mrs.
+      Vansittart gave a little nod as she looked at him. Roden had drawn forward
+      a chair, and she sat down, after a moment's hesitation, in front of the
+      open fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have always heard,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and a great philanthropist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;yes.&rdquo; Roden paused and took a chair. &ldquo;Oh yes; but Tony Cornish
+      is our right-hand man. The people seem to place greater faith in him than
+      they do in Lord Ferriby. When it is Cornish who asks, they give readily
+      enough. He is business-like and quick, and that always tells in the long
+      run.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden seemed disposed to be communicative, and Mrs. Vansittart's
+      attitude was distinctly encouraging. She leant sideways on the arm of her
+      chair, and looked at her companion with speculation in her intelligent
+      eyes. She was perhaps reflecting that this was not the sort of man one
+      usually finds engaged in philanthropic enterprise. It is likely that her
+      thoughts were of this nature, and were, as thoughts so often are,
+      transmitted silently to her companion's mind, for he proceeded, unasked,
+      to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not, properly speaking, a charity, you know,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is more
+      in the nature of a trade union. This is a practical age, Mrs. Vansittart,
+      and it is necessary that charity should keep pace with the march of
+      progress and be self-supporting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a faint suggestion of glibness in his manner. It was probable
+      that he had made use of the same arguments before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who else is associated with you in this great enterprise?&rdquo; asked the
+      lady, keeping him with the cleverness of her sex upon the subject in which
+      he was obviously deeply interested. The shrewdest women usually treat men
+      thus, and they generally know what subject interests a man most&mdash;namely,
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr von Holzen is the most important person,&rdquo; replied Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, looking into the fire; &ldquo;and who is Herr von
+      Holzen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden paused for a moment, and the lady, looking half indifferently into
+      the fire, noticed the hesitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he is a scientist&mdash;a professor at one of the universities over
+      here, I believe. At all events, he is a very clever fellow&mdash;analytical
+      chemist and all that, you know. It is he who has made the discovery upon
+      which we are working. He has always been interested in malgamite, and he
+      has now found out how it may be manufactured without injury to the
+      workers. Malgamite, you understand, is an essential in the manufacture of
+      paper, and the world will never require less paper than it does now, but
+      more. Look at the tons that pass through the post-offices daily.
+      Paper-making is one of the great industries of the world, and without
+      malgamite, paper cannot be made at a profit to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden seemed to have his subject at his fingers' ends, and if he spoke
+      without enthusiasm, the reason was probably that he had so often said the
+      same thing before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much interested,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, in her half-foreign way,
+      which was rather pleasing. &ldquo;Tell me more about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The malgamite makers,&rdquo; went on Roden, willingly enough, &ldquo;are fortunately
+      but few in numbers and they are experts. They are to be found in twos and
+      threes in manufacturing cities&mdash;Amsterdam, Gothenburg, Leith, New
+      York, and even Barcelona. Of course there are a number in England. Our
+      scheme, briefly, is to collect these men together, to build a manufactory
+      and houses for them&mdash;to form them, in fact, into a close corporation,
+      and then supply the world with malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great scheme, Mr. Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is a great scheme; and it is, I think, laid upon the right lines.
+      These people require to be saved from themselves. As they now exist, they
+      are well paid. They are engaged in a deadly industry, and know it. There
+      is nothing more demoralizing to human nature than this knowledge. They
+      have a short and what they take to be a merry life.&rdquo; The tired&mdash;looking
+      man paused and spread out his hands in a gesture of careless scorn. He had
+      almost allowed himself to lapse into enthusiasm. &ldquo;There is no reason,&rdquo; he
+      went on, &ldquo;why they should not become a happy and respectable community.
+      The first thing we shall have to teach them is that their industry is
+      comparatively harmless, as it will undoubtedly be with Von Holzen's new
+      process. The rest will, I think, come naturally. Altered circumstances
+      will alter the people themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where do you intend to build this manufactory?&rdquo; inquired Mrs.
+      Vansittart, to whom was vouch-safed that rare knowledge of the fine line
+      that is to be drawn between a kindly interest and a vulgar curiosity. The
+      two are nearer than is usually suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here in Holland,&rdquo; was the reply. &ldquo;I have almost decided on the spot&mdash;on
+      the dunes to the north of Scheveningen. That is why I am staying at The
+      Hague. There are many reasons why this coast is suitable. We shall be in
+      touch with the canal system, and we shall have a direct outfall to the sea
+      for our refuse, which is necessary. I shall have to live in The Hague&mdash;my
+      sister and I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! You have a sister?&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, turning in her chair and
+      looking at him. A woman's interest in a man's undertaking is invariably
+      centred upon that point where another woman comes into it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unmarried?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; Dorothy is unmarried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart gave several quick little nods of the head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am wondering two things,&rdquo; she said&mdash;&ldquo;whether she is like you, and
+      whether she is interested in this scheme. But I am wondering more than
+      that. Is she pretty, Mr. Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I think she is pretty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad of that. I like girls to be pretty. It makes their lives so
+      much more interesting&mdash;to the onlooker, <i>bien entendu</i>, but not
+      to themselves. The happiest women I have known have been the plain ones.
+      But perhaps your sister will be pretty and happy too. That would be so
+      nice, and so very rare, Mr. Roden. I shall look forward to making her
+      acquaintance. I live in The Hague, you know. I have a house in Park
+      Straat, and I am only at this hotel while the painters are in possession.
+      You will allow me to call on your sister when she joins you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall be most gratified,&rdquo; said Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had risen with a little glance at the clock, and her
+      companion rose also. &ldquo;I am greatly interested in your scheme,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;Much more than I can tell you. It is so refreshing to find charity in
+      such close connection with practical common sense. I think you are doing a
+      great work, Mr. Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do what I can,&rdquo; he replied, with a bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Mr. Von Holzen,&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart, stopping for a moment as
+      she moved towards the doorway, which is large and hung with curtains&mdash;&ldquo;does
+      Mr. Von Holzen work from purely philanthropic motives also?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;yes, I think so. Though, of course, he, like myself, will be
+      paid a salary. Perhaps, however, he is more interested in malgamite from a
+      scientific point of view.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes, from a scientific point of view, of course. Good night, Mr.
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she left him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. OUT OF EGYPT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Un esclave est moins celui qu'on vend que celui qui se donne&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      A sea fog was blowing across the smooth surface of the Maas where that
+      river is broad and shallow, and a steamer anchored in the channel, grim
+      and motionless, gave forth a grunt of warning from time to time, while a
+      boy with mittened hands rang the bell hung high on the forecastle with a
+      dull monotony. The wind blowing from the south-east drove before it the
+      endless fog which hummed through the rigging, and hung there in little
+      icicles that pointed to leeward. On the bridge of the steamer, looking
+      like a huge woollen barrel surmounted by a comforter and a cap with
+      ear-flaps, the Dutch pilot stood philosophically at his post. Near him the
+      captain, mindful of the company's time-tables, walked with a quick,
+      impatient step. The fog was blowing past at the rate of four or five miles
+      an hour, but the supply of it, emanating from the low lands bordering the
+      Scheldt, seemed to be inexhaustible. This fog, indeed, blows across
+      Holland nearly the whole winter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steamer's deck was covered with ice, over which sand had been strewn.
+      The passengers were below in the warm saloon. Only the blue-faced boy at
+      the bell on the forecastle was on the main-deck. At times one of the watch
+      hurried from the galley to the forecastle with a pannikin of steaming
+      coffee. The vessel had been anchored since daybreak and the sound of other
+      bells and other whistles far and near told that she was not alone in these
+      waters. The distant boom of a steamer creeping cautiously down from
+      Rotterdam seemed to promise that farther inland the fog was thinner. A
+      silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the rigging,
+      reigned over all, so that men listened with anticipations of relief for
+      the sound of answering bells. The sky at length grew a little lighter, and
+      presently gaps made their appearance in the fog, allowing peeps over the
+      green and still water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain and the pilot exchanged a few words&mdash;the very shortest of
+      consultations. They had been on the bridge together all night, and had
+      said all that there was to be said about wind and weather. The captain
+      gave a sharp order in his gruff voice, and, as if by magic, the watch on
+      deck appeared from all sides. The chief officer emerged from his cabin
+      beneath the wheel-house, and went forward into the fog, turning up his
+      collar. Presently the jerk and clink of the steam-winch told that the
+      anchor was being got home. The fog had been humoured for six hours, and
+      the time had now come to move on through thick or thin. What should
+      Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, know of a fog on the Maas? And there were
+      mails and passengers on board this steamer. The clink of the winch brought
+      one of these on deck. Within the high collar of his fur coat, beneath the
+      brim of a felt hat pulled well down, the keen; fair face of Mr. Anthony
+      Cornish came peering up the gangway to the upper bridge. He exchanged a
+      nod with the captain and the pilot; for with these he had already been in
+      conversation at the breakfast-table. He took his station on the bridge
+      behind them, with his hands deep in the pockets of his loose coat, a
+      cigarette between his lips. A shout from the forecastle soon intimated
+      that the anchor was up, and the captain gave the order to the boy at the
+      engine-room telegraph. Through the fog the forms of the three men on the
+      look-out on the forecastle were dimly discernible. The great steamer crept
+      cautiously forward into the fog. The second mate, with his hand on the
+      whistle-line, blared out his warning note every half-minute. A dim shadow
+      loomed up on the port-side, which presently took the form of a great
+      steamer at anchor, and was left behind with a ringing bell and a booming
+      whistle. Another shadow turned out to be a pilot-cutter, and the Dutch
+      pilot exchanged a shouted consultation with an invisible person whom he
+      called &ldquo;Thou,&rdquo; and who replied to the imperfectly heard questions with the
+      words, &ldquo;South East.&rdquo; This shadow also was left behind, faintly calling,
+      &ldquo;South East,&rdquo; &ldquo;South East.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a white buoy that I seek,&rdquo; said the pilot, turning to those on the
+      bridge behind him, his jolly red face puckered with anxiety. And quite
+      suddenly the second officer, a bright-red Scotchman with little blue eyes
+      like tempered gimlets, threw out a red hand and pointing finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There she rides,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There she rides; staar boarrrd your hellum!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And a full thirty seconds elapsed before any other eyes could pierce that
+      gloom and perceive a great white buoy bowing solemnly towards the steamer
+      like a courtier bidding a sovereign welcome. One voice had seemed to be
+      gradually dominating the din of the many warning whistles that sounded
+      ahead, astern, and all around the steamer. This voice, like that of a
+      strong man knowing his own mind in an assembly of excited and unstable
+      counsellors, had long been raised with a persistence which at last seemed
+      to command all others, and the steamer moved steadily towards it; for it
+      was the siren fog-horn at the pier-head. At one moment it seemed to be
+      quite near, and at the next far away; for the ears, unaided by the eyes,
+      can but imperfectly focus sound or measure its distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At last!&rdquo; said the captain, suddenly, the anxiety wiped away from his
+      face as if by magic. &ldquo;At last, I hear the cranes aworking on the quay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser had come to the bridge, and now approached Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to land them at the Hook or take them on to Rotterdam,
+      sir?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, land 'em at the Hook,&rdquo; replied Cornish, readily. &ldquo;Have you fed them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. They have had their breakfast&mdash;such as it is. Poor eaters
+      I call them, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; said Cornish, turning and looking at his burly interlocutor. &ldquo;Yes,
+      I do not suppose they eat much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention to other
+      affairs, thoughtfully. The little, beacon at the head of the pier had
+      suddenly loomed out of the fog not fifty yards away&mdash;a very needle in
+      a pottle of hay, which the cunning of the pilot had found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are they, at any rate&mdash;these hundred and twenty ghosts of men?&rdquo;
+       asked the sailor, abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are malgamite workers,&rdquo; answered Cornish, cheerily. &ldquo;And I am going
+      to make men of them&mdash;not ghosts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser looked at him, laughed in rather a puzzled way, and quitted the
+      bridge. Cornish remained there, taking a quick, intelligent interest in
+      the manoeuvres by which the great steamer was being brought alongside the
+      quay. He seemed to have already forgotten the hundred and twenty men in
+      the second-class cabin. His touch was indeed hopelessly light. He
+      understood how it was that the steamer was made to obey, but he could not
+      himself have brought her alongside. Cornish was a true son of a generation
+      which understands much of many things, but not quite sufficient of any
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood at the upper end of the gangway as the malgamite workers filed
+      off&mdash;a sorry crew, narrow-chested, hollow-eyed, with that
+      half-hopeless, half-reckless air that tells of a close familiarity with
+      disease and death. He nodded to them airily as they passed him. Some of
+      them took the trouble to answer his salutation, others seemed indifferent.
+      A few glanced at him with a sort of dull wonder. And indeed this man was
+      not of the material of which great philanthropists are made. He was
+      cheerful and heedless, shallow and superficial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get 'em into the train,&rdquo; he said to an official at his side; and then,
+      seeing that he had not been understood, gave the order glibly enough in
+      another language.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ill-clad travellers shuffled up the gangway and through the
+      custom-house. Few seemed to take an interest in their surroundings. They
+      exchanged no comments, but walked side by side in silence&mdash;dumb and
+      driven animals. Some of them bore signs of disease. A few stumbled as they
+      went. One or two were half blind, with groping hands. That they were of
+      different nationalities was plain enough. Here a Jew from Vienna, with the
+      fear of the Judenhetze in his eyes, followed on the heels of a tow-headed
+      giant from Stockholm. A cunning cockney touched his hat as he passed, and
+      rather ostentatiously turned to help a white-haired little Italian over
+      the inequalities of the gangway. One thing only they had in common&mdash;their
+      deadly industry. One shadow lay over them all&mdash;the shadow of death. A
+      momentary gravity passed across Cornish's face. These men were as far
+      removed from him as the crawling beetle is from the butterfly. Who shall
+      say, however, that the butterfly sees nothing but the flowers?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they passed him, some of them edged away with a dull humility for fear
+      their poor garments should touch his fur coat. One, carrying a bird-cage,
+      half paused, with a sort of pride, that Cornish might obtain a fuller view
+      of a depressed canary. The malgamite workers of this winter's morning on
+      the pier of Hoek were not the interesting industrials of Lady Ferriby's
+      drawing-room. There their lives had been spoken of as short and merry.
+      Here the merriment was scarcely perceptible. The mystery of the dangerous
+      industries is one of those mysteries of human nature which cannot be
+      explained by even the youngest of novelists. That dangerous industries
+      exist we all know and deplore. That the supply of men and women ready to
+      take employment in such industries is practically inexhaustible is a fact
+      worth at least a moment's attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made the necessary arrangements with the railway officials, and
+      carefully counted his charges, who were already seated in the carriages
+      reserved for them. He must at all events be allowed the virtues of a
+      generation which is eminently practical and capable of overcoming the
+      small difficulties of everyday life. He was quick to decide and prompt to
+      act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he seated himself in a carriage alone, with a sigh of relief at the
+      thought that in a few days he would be back in London. His responsibility
+      ended at The Hague, where he was to hand over the malgamite workers to the
+      care of Roden and Von Holzen. They were rather a depressing set of men,
+      and Holland, as seen from the carriage window&mdash;a snow-clad plain
+      intersected by frozen ditches and canals&mdash;was no more enlivening. The
+      temperature was deadly cold; the dull houses were rime-covered and
+      forbidding. The malgamite makers had been gathered together from all parts
+      of the world in a home specially organized for them in London. A second
+      detachment was awaiting their orders at Hamburg. But the principal workers
+      were these now placed under Cornish's care.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the days of their arrival, when they had to be met and housed and
+      cared for, the visionary part of this great scheme had slowly faded before
+      a somewhat grim reality. Joan Ferriby had found the malgamite workers less
+      picturesque than she had anticipated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they only washed,&rdquo; she had confided to Major White, &ldquo;I am sure they
+      would be easier to deal with.&rdquo; And after talking French very vivaciously
+      and boldly with a man from Lyons, she hurried back to the West End, and to
+      the numerous engagements which naturally take up much of one's time when
+      Lent is approaching, and dilatory hospitality is stirred up by the
+      startling collapse of the Epiphany Sundays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, however, were the malgamite workers and they had to be dealt with.
+      It was not quite what many had anticipated, perhaps, and Cornish was
+      looking forward with undisguised pleasure to the moment when he could rid
+      himself of these persons whom Joan had gaily designated as &ldquo;rather
+      gruesome,&rdquo; and whom he frankly recognized as sordid and uninteresting. He
+      did not even look, as Joan had looked, to the wives and children who were
+      to follow as likely to prove more picturesque and engaging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The train made its way cautiously over the fog-ridden plain, and Cornish
+      shivered as he looked out of the window. &ldquo;Schiedam,&rdquo; the porters called.
+      This, Schiedam? A mere village, and yet the name was so familiar. The
+      world seemed suddenly to have grown small and sordid. A few other stations
+      with historic names, and then The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish quitted his carriage, and found himself shaking hands with Roden,
+      who was awaiting him on the platform, clad in a heavy fur coat. Roden
+      looked clever and capable&mdash;cleverer and more capable than Cornish had
+      even suspected&mdash;and the organization seemed perfect. The reserved
+      carriages had been in readiness at the Hook. The officials were prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have omnibuses and carts for them and their luggage,&rdquo; were the first
+      words that Roden spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish instinctively placed himself under Roden's orders. The man had
+      risen immensely in his estimation since the arrival in London of the first
+      malgamite maker. The grim reality of the one had enhanced the importance
+      of the other. Cornish had been engaged in so many charities <i>pour rire</i>
+      that the seriousness of this undertaking was apt to exaggerate itself in
+      his mind&mdash;if, indeed, the seriousness of anything dwelt there at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I counted them all over at the Hook,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One hundred and twenty&mdash;pretty
+      average scoundrels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; they are not much to look at,&rdquo; answered Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the two men stood side by side watching the malgamite workers, who now
+      quitted the train and stood huddled together in a dull apathy on the roomy
+      platform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will soon get them into shape, no doubt,&rdquo; said Cornish, with
+      characteristic optimism. He was essentially of a class that has always
+      some one at hand to whom to relegate tasks which it could do more
+      effectually and more quickly for itself. The secret of human happiness is
+      to be dependent upon as few human beings as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! We shall soon get them into shape&mdash;the sea air and all that,
+      you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at his <i>protégés</i> with large, sad eyes, in which there
+      was alike no enthusiasm and no spark of human kindness. Cornish wondered
+      vaguely what he was thinking about. The thoughts were certainly tinged
+      with pessimism, and lacked entirely the blindness of an enthusiasm by
+      which men are urged to endeavour great things for the good of the masses,
+      and to make, as far as a practical human perception may discern, huge and
+      hideous mistakes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Holzen is down below,&rdquo; said Roden, at length. &ldquo;As soon as he comes up
+      we will draft them off in batches of ten, and pack them into the
+      omnibuses. The luggage can follow. Ah! Here comes Von Holzen. You don't
+      know him, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I don't know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They both went forward to meet a man of medium height, with square
+      shoulders, and a still, clean-shaven face. Otto von Holzen raised his hat,
+      and remained bare-headed while he shook hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The introduction is unnecessary,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We have worked together for
+      many months&mdash;you on the other side of the North Sea, and I on this.
+      And now we have, at all events, something to show for our work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had a quick, foreign manner, with a kind smile, and certain vivacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a different sort of man to Roden&mdash;quicker to feel for
+      others, to understand others; capable of greater good, and possibly of
+      greater evil. He glanced at Cornish, nodded sympathetically, and then
+      turned to look at the malgamite makers. These, standing in a group on the
+      platform, holding in their hands their poor belongings, returned the gaze
+      with interest. The train which had brought them steamed out of the
+      station, leaving the malgamite makers gazing in a dull wonder at the three
+      men into whose hands they had committed their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. ON THE DUNES.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;L'indifference est le sommeil du coeur.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The village of Scheveningen, as many know, is built on the sand dunes, and
+      only sheltered from the ocean by a sea-wall. A new Scheveningen has sprung
+      up on this sea-wall&mdash;a mere terrace of red brick houses, already
+      faded and weather-worn, which stare forlornly at the shallow sea. Inland,
+      except where building enterprise has constructed roads and built villas
+      are sand dunes. To the south, beyond the lighthouse, are sand dunes. To
+      the north, more especially and most emphatically, are sand dunes as far as
+      the eye may see. This tract of country is a very desert, where thin
+      maritime grasses are shaken by the wind, where suggestive spars lie
+      bleaching, where the sand, driven before the breeze like snow, travels to
+      and fro through all the ages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This afternoon, the dunes presented as forlorn an appearance as it is
+      possible in one's gloomiest moments to conceive. The fog had, indeed,
+      lifted a little, but a fine rain now drove before the wind, freezing as it
+      fell, so that the earth was covered by a thin sheet of ice. The short
+      January day was drawing to its close.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To the north of the waterworks, three hundred yards away from that
+      solitary erection, the curious may find to-day a few low buildings
+      clustering round a water-tower. These buildings are of wood, with roofs of
+      corrugated iron; and when they were newly constructed, not so many years
+      ago, presented a gay enough appearance, with their green shutters and
+      ornamental eaves. The whole was enclosed in a fence of corrugated iron,
+      and approached by a road not too well constructed on its sandy bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We do not want the place to become the object of an excursion for
+      tourists to The Hague,&rdquo; said Roden to Cornish, as they approached the
+      malgamite works in a closed carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked out of the window and made no remark. So far as he could
+      see on all sides, there was nothing but sand-hills and grey grass. The
+      road was a narrow one, and led only to the little cluster of houses within
+      the fence. It was a lonely spot, cut off from all communication with the
+      outer world. Men might pass within a hundred yards and never know that the
+      malgamite works existed. The carriage drove through the high gateway into
+      the enclosure. There were a number of cottages, two long, low buildings,
+      and the water-tower.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Roden, &ldquo;we have plenty of room to increase our
+      accommodation when there is need of it. But we must go slowly and feel our
+      way. It would never do to fail. We have accommodation here for a couple of
+      hundred workers and their families; but in time we shall have five hundred
+      of them in here&mdash;all the malgamite workers in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in his
+      voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after all, be an
+      enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's world sincere
+      enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the
+      little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These two buildings are the factories,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In them three hundred
+      men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the storage of the
+      raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do not anticipate
+      that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We shall turn over
+      our money very quickly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details
+      receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for such
+      pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the terms of
+      which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his cane, gave a
+      quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around him. He had a
+      certain respect for Percy Roden, while that philanthropist did not perhaps
+      appear quite at his best in his business moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you&mdash;and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen&mdash;live
+      inside this&mdash;zareba?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I have
+      taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! I did not know you had a sister,&rdquo; said Cornish, still looking about
+      him with intelligent ignorance. &ldquo;Does she take an interest in the
+      malgamite scheme?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only so far as it affects me,&rdquo; replied Roden. &ldquo;She is a good sister to
+      me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We
+      will call in on our way back, if you care to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like nothing better,&rdquo; replied Cornish, conventionally, and they
+      continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements were as
+      simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen certainly
+      possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages a cold
+      collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of wines, and
+      notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the journalists,&rdquo; explained Roden. &ldquo;I have a number of them coming
+      this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite
+      makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited a
+      number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay their
+      expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it immensely.
+      They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Flattery and champagne,&rdquo; laughed Cornish&mdash;&ldquo;the two principal
+      ingredients of popularity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have here a number of photographs,&rdquo; continued Roden, &ldquo;taken by a good
+      man in the neighbourhood. He has thrown in a view of the sea at the back,
+      you see. It is not there; but he has put in the sky and sea from another
+      plate, he tells me, to make a good picture of it. We shall send them to
+      the principal illustrated papers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I suppose,&rdquo; said Cornish, with his gay laugh, &ldquo;that some of the
+      journalists will throw in background also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; answered Roden, gravely. &ldquo;And the sentimentalists will be
+      satisfied. The sentimentalists never stop at providing necessaries; they
+      want to pamper. It will please them immensely to think that the malgamite
+      makers, who have been collected from the slums of the world, have a sea
+      view and every modern luxury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must humour them,&rdquo; said Cornish, practically. &ldquo;We should not get far
+      without them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the sound of wheels made them both turn towards the
+      entrance. It was an omnibus&mdash;the best omnibus with the finest horses&mdash;which
+      brought the journalists. These gentlemen now descended from the vehicle
+      and came towards the cottage, where Cornish and Roden awaited them. They
+      were what is euphemistically called a little mixed. Some were too well
+      dressed, others too badly. But all carried themselves with an air that
+      bespoke a consciousness of greatness not unmingled with good-fellowship.
+      The leader, a stout man, shook hands affably with Cornish, who assumed his
+      best and most gracious manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aha! Here we are,&rdquo; he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at the
+      champagne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then somehow Cornish came to the front and Roden retired into the
+      background. It was Cornish who opened the champagne and poured it into
+      their glasses. It was Cornish who made the best jokes, and laughed the
+      loudest at the journalistic quips fired off by his companions. Cornish
+      seemed to understand the guests better than did Roden, who was inclined to
+      be stiff towards them. Those who are assured of their position are not
+      always thinking about it. Men who stand much upon their dignity have not,
+      as a rule, much else to stand upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's to you, sir,&rdquo; cried the stout newspaper man, with upraised glass
+      and a heart full of champagne. &ldquo;Here's to you&mdash;whoever you are. And
+      now to business. Perhaps you'll trot us round the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This Cornish did with much success. He then stood beside the
+      correspondents while the malgamite workers descended from the omnibus and
+      took possession of their new quarters. He provided the journalists with
+      photographs and a short printed account of the malgamite trade, which had
+      been prepared by Von Holzen. It was finally Cornish who packed them into
+      the omnibus in high good humour, and sent them back to The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not forget the sentiment,&rdquo; he called out after them. &ldquo;Remember it is a
+      charity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamite workers were left to the care of Von Holzen, who had made
+      all necessary preparations for their reception.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a cleverer man than I thought you,&rdquo; said Roden to Cornish, as
+      they walked over the dunes together in the dusk towards the Rodens' house.
+      And it was difficult to say whether Roden was pleased or not. He did not
+      speak much during the walk, and was evidently wrapped in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was light and inconsequent as usual. &ldquo;We shall soon raise more
+      money,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We shall have malgamite balls, and malgamite bazaars,
+      malgamite balloon ascents if that is not flying too high.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Villa des Dunes stands, as its name implies, among the sand hills,
+      facing south and west. It is upon an elevation, and therefore enjoys a
+      view of the sea, and, inland, of the spires of The Hague. The garden is an
+      old one, and there are quiet nooks in it where the trees have grown to a
+      quite respectable stature. Holland is so essentially a tidy country that
+      nothing old or moss-grown is tolerated. One wonders where all the rubbish
+      of the centuries has been hidden; for all the ruins have been decently
+      cleared away and cities that teem with historical interest seem, with a
+      few exceptions, to have been built last year. The garden of the Villa des
+      Dunes was therefore more remarkable for cleanliness than luxuriance. The
+      house itself was uninteresting, and resembled a thousand others on the
+      coast in that it was more comfortable than it looked. A suggestion of
+      warmth and lamp-light filtered through the drawn curtains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden led the way into the house, admitting himself with a latch-key.
+      &ldquo;Dorothy,&rdquo; he cried, as soon as the door was closed behind them&mdash;the
+      two tall men in their heavy coats almost filled the little hall&mdash;&ldquo;Dorothy,
+      where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The atmosphere of the house&mdash;that subtle odour which is
+      characteristic of all dwellings&mdash;was pleasant. One felt that there
+      were flowers in the rooms, and that tea was in course of preparation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door on the left-hand side of the hall was opened, and a small woman
+      appeared there. She was essentially small&mdash;a little upright figure
+      with bright brown hair, a good complexion, and gay, sparkling eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have brought Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; explained Roden. &ldquo;We are frozen, and want
+      some tea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy Roden came forward and shook hands with Cornish. She looked up at
+      him, taking him all in, in one quick intuitive glance, from his smooth
+      head to his neat boots.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is horribly cold,&rdquo; she said. One cannot always be original and
+      sparkling, and it is wiser not to try too persistently. She turned and
+      re-entered the drawing-room, with Cornish following her. The room itself
+      was prettily furnished in the Dutch fashion, and there were flowers.
+      Dorothy Roden's manner was that of a woman; no longer in her first
+      girlhood, who had seen en and cities. She was better educated than her
+      brother; she was probably cleverer. She had, at all events, the subtle air
+      of self-restraint that marks those women whose lives are passed in the
+      society of a man mentally inferior to themselves. Of course all women are
+      in a sense doomed to this&mdash;according to their own thinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Percy said that he would probably bring you in to tea,&rdquo; said Miss Roden,
+      &ldquo;and that probably you would be tired out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks; I am not tired. We had a good passage, and everything has run as
+      smoothly. Do you take an active interest in us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Roden paused in the action of pouring out tea, and looked across at
+      her interlocutor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not an active one,&rdquo; she answered, with a momentary gravity; and, after a
+      minute, glanced at Cornish's face again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is going to be a big thing,&rdquo; he said enthusiastically. &ldquo;My cousin Joan
+      Ferriby is working hard at it in London. You do not know her, I suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at school with Joan,&rdquo; replied Miss Roden, with her soft laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we took a school-girl oath to write to each other every week when we
+      parted. We kept it up&mdash;for a fortnight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish's smooth face betrayed no surprise; although he had concluded that
+      Miss Roden was years older than Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he said, with ready tact, &ldquo;you do not take an interest in the
+      same things as Joan. In what may be called new things&mdash;not clothes, I
+      mean. In factory girls' feather clubs, for instance, or haberdashers'
+      assistants, or women's rights, or anything like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly
+      ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or ought
+      to want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went and
+      sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked worn&mdash;as
+      if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon him. Cornish,
+      too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking down at Miss Roden
+      with a doubtful air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I always distrust women who say that,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One naturally suspects
+      them of having got what they want by some underhand means&mdash;and of
+      having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of amalgamation; is
+      not that so, Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made some
+      necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It seemed
+      that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the conversation
+      by himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?&rdquo; he asked Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I have not even the wit to know that I have any.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;No wonder Joan ceased writing to you. You
+      are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted your
+      wrongs&mdash;<i>sub rosa</i>&mdash;and leave other women to manage their
+      own affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the
+      Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot
+      help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must
+      either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with
+      one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery. But
+      some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the masses. The
+      masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a woman. Some day
+      the men must combine against the women, who are already united behind a
+      vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance,&rdquo; said Miss
+      Roden, taking his cup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He paused and drank the tea slowly. &ldquo;No one knows that,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for
+      ourselves again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is possible,&rdquo; he said gravely, setting down his cup. &ldquo;And now I must
+      find my way back to The Hague. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is clever,&rdquo; said Dorothy, when Roden returned after having shown
+      Cornish the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden, without enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not seem to be pleased at the thought,&rdquo; she said carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;it will be all right! If his cleverness runs in the right
+      direction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. OFFICIAL.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;One may be so much a man of the world as to be nothing in
+     the world.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Political Economy will some day have to recognize Philanthropy as a
+      possible&mdash;nay, a certain stumbling-block in the world's progress
+      towards that millennium when Supply and Demand shall sit down together in
+      peace. Charity is certainly sowing seed into the ridges of time which will
+      bear startling fruit in the future. For Charity does not hesitate to close
+      up an industry or interfere with a trade that supplies thousands with
+      their daily bread. Thus the Malgamite scheme so glibly inaugurated by Lord
+      Ferriby in his drawing-room bore fruit within a week in a quarter to which
+      probably few concerned had ever thought of casting an eye. The price of a
+      high-class tinted paper fell in all the markets of the world. This paper
+      could only be manufactured with a large addition of malgamite to its other
+      components. In what may be called the prospectus of the Malgamite scheme
+      it was stated that this great charity was inaugurated for the purpose of
+      relieving the distress of the malgamiters&mdash;one of the industrial
+      scandals of the day&mdash;by enabling these afflicted men to make their
+      deadly product at a cheaper rate and without danger to themselves. This
+      prospectus naturally came to the hands of those most concerned, namely,
+      the manufacturers of coloured papers and the brokers who supply those
+      manufacturers with their raw material.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus Lord Ferriby, beaming benignantly from a bower of chrysanthemums on a
+      certain evening one winter not so many years ago, set rolling a small
+      stone upon a steep hill. So, in fact, wags the world; and none of us may
+      know when the echo of a careless word will cease vibrating in the hearts
+      of some that hear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamite trade was what is called a <i>close</i> one&mdash;that is to
+      say that this product passed out into the world through the hands of a few
+      brokers and these brokers were powerless, in face of Lord Ferriby's
+      announcement, to prevent the price of malgamite from falling. As this fell
+      so fell the prices of the many kinds of paper which could not be
+      manufactured without it. Thus indirectly, Lord Ferriby, with that
+      obtuseness which very often finds itself in company with a highly
+      developed philanthropy, touched the daily lives of thousands and thousands
+      of people. And he did not know it. And Tony Cornish knew it not. And Joan
+      and the subscribers never dreamt or thought of such a thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The paper market became what is called sensitive&mdash;that is to say,
+      prices rose and fell suddenly without apparent reason. Some men made money
+      and others lost it. Presently, however&mdash;that is to say, in the month
+      of March&mdash;two months after Tony Cornish had safely conveyed his
+      malgamite makers to their new home on the sand dunes of Scheveningen&mdash;the
+      paper markets of the world began to settle down again, and steadier prices
+      ruled. This could be traced&mdash;as all commercial changes may be traced&mdash;to
+      the original flow at one of the fountain-heads of supply and demand. It
+      arose from the simple fact that a broker in London had bought some of the
+      new malgamite&mdash;the Scheveningen malgamite&mdash;and had issued it to
+      his clients, who said that it was good. He had, moreover, bought it
+      cheaper. In a couple of days all the world&mdash;all the world concerned
+      in the matter&mdash;knew of it. Such is commerce at the end of the
+      century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cornish, casually looking in at the little office of the Malgamite
+      Charity, where a German clerk recommended by Herr von Holzen kept the
+      books of the scheme, found his table littered with telegrams. Tony Cornish
+      had a reputation for being clever. He was, as a matter of fact,
+      intelligent. The world nearly always mistakes intelligence for cleverness,
+      just as it nearly always mistakes laughter for happiness. He was, however,
+      clever enough to have found out during the last two months that the
+      Malgamite scheme was a bigger thing than either he or his uncle had ever
+      imagined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many questions had arisen during those two months of Cornish's honorary
+      secretary ship of the charity which he had been unable to answer, and
+      which he had been obliged to refer to Roden and Von Holzen. These had
+      replied readily, and the matter as solved by them seemed simple enough.
+      But each question seemed to have side issues&mdash;indeed, the whole
+      scheme appeared suddenly to bristle with side issues, and Tony Cornish
+      began to find himself getting really interested in something at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The telegrams were not alone upon his office table. There were letters as
+      well. It was a nice little office, furnished by Joan with a certain
+      originality which certainly made it different from any other office in
+      Westminster. It had, moreover, the great recommendation of being above a
+      Ladies' Tea Association, so that afternoon tea could be easily procured.
+      The German clerk quite counted on receiving three half-holidays a week and
+      Joan brought her friends to tea, and her mother to chaperon. These little
+      tea-parties became quite notorious, and there was a question of a cottage
+      piano, which was finally abandoned in favour of a banjo. It happened to be
+      a wire-puzzle winter, and Cornish had the best collection of rings on
+      impossible wire mazes, and glass beads strung upon intertwisted hooks, in
+      Westminster, if not, indeed, in the whole of London. Then, of course,
+      there were the committee meetings&mdash;that is to say, the meeting of the
+      lady committees of the bazaar and ball sub-committees. The wire puzzles
+      and the association tea were an immense feature of these.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite accustomed to finding a number of letters awaiting him,
+      and had been compelled to buy a waste-paper basket of abnormal dimensions&mdash;so
+      many moribund charities cast envious eyes upon the Malgamite scheme, and
+      wondered how it was done, and, on the chance of it, offered Cornish
+      honourable honorary posts. But the telegrams had been few, and nearly all
+      from Roden. There was a letter from Roden this morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DEAR CORNISH&rdquo; (he wrote),&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will probably receive applications from malgamite workers in
+      different parts of the world for permission to enter our works. Accept
+      them all, and arrange for their enlistment as soon as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours in haste,
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;P.R.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was usually in haste, and wrote a bad letter in a beautiful
+      handwriting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to the telegrams. They were one and all applications from
+      malgamite makers&mdash;from Venice to Valparaiso&mdash;to be enrolled in
+      the Scheveningen group. He was still reading them when Lord Ferriby came
+      into the little office. His lordship was wearing a new fancy waistcoat. It
+      was the month of April&mdash;the month assuredly of fancy waistcoats
+      throughout all nature. Lord Ferriby was, as usual, rather pleased with
+      himself. He had walked down Piccadilly with great effect, and a bishop had
+      bowed to him, recognizing, in a sense, a lay bishop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you got there, Tony?&rdquo; he asked, affably, laying his smart
+      walking-stick on an inlaid bureau, which was supposed to be his, and was
+      always closed, and had nothing in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Telegrams,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;from malgamite makers, who want to join
+      the works at Scheveningen. Seventy-six of them. I don't quite understand
+      this business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I,&rdquo; admitted Lord Ferriby, in a voice which clearly indicated
+      that if he only took the trouble he could understand anything. &ldquo;But I
+      fancy it is one of the biggest things in charity that has ever been
+      started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the company of men, and especially of young men, Lord Ferriby allowed
+      himself a little license in speech. He at times almost verged on the
+      slangy, which is, of course, quite correct and <i>de haut ton</i>, and he
+      did not want to be taken for an old buffer, as were his contemporaries.
+      Therefore he called himself an old buffer whenever he could. <i>Qui
+      s'excuse s'accuse.</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;we must take the poor fellows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without comment, Cornish handed him Roden's letter, and while Lord Ferriby
+      read it, employed himself in making out a list of the names and addresses
+      of the applicants. Cornish was, in fact, rising to the occasion. In other
+      circumstances Anthony Cornish might with favourable influence&mdash;say
+      that of a Scottish head clerk&mdash;have been made into what is called a
+      good business man. Without any training whatever, and with an education
+      which consisted only of a smattering of the classics and a rigid code of
+      honour, he usually perceived what it was wise to do. Some people call this
+      genius; others, luck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;that Roden is of the same opinion as myself.
+      A shrewd fellow, Roden.&rdquo; And he pulled down his fancy waistcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I may write, or telegraph, to these men, and tell them to come?&rdquo;
+       asked Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most certainly, my dear Anthony. We will collect them, or muster them, as
+      White calls it, in London, and then send them to Scheveningen, as before,
+      when Roden and Herr von Holzen are ready for them. Send a note to White,
+      whose department this mustering is. As a soldier he understands the
+      handling of a body of men. You and I are more competent to deal with a sum
+      of money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby glanced towards the door to make sure that it was open, so
+      that the German clerk in the outer office should lose nothing that could
+      only be for his good&mdash;might, in fact, pick up a few crumbs from the
+      richly stored table of a great man's mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby leisurely withdrew his gloves and laid them on the inlaid
+      bureau. He had the physique of a director of public companies, and the
+      grave manner that impresses shareholders. He talked of the weather, drew
+      Cornish's attention to a blot of ink on the high-art wallpaper, and then
+      put on his gloves again, well pleased with himself and his morning's work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything appears to be in order, my dear Anthony,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So there
+      is nothing to keep me here any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; replied Cornish; and his lordship departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish remained until it was time to go across St. James's Park to his
+      club to lunch. He answered a certain number of letters himself, the others
+      he handed over to the German clerk&mdash;a man with all the virtues,
+      smooth, upright hair, and a dreamy eye. The malgamite makers were bidden
+      to come as soon as they liked. After luncheon Cornish had to hurry back to
+      Great George Street. This was one of his busy days. At four o'clock there
+      was to be a meeting of the floor committee of the approaching ball, and
+      Cornish remembered that he had been specially told to get a new bass
+      string for the banjo. The Hon. Rupert Dalkyn had promised to come, but had
+      vowed that he would not touch the banjo again unless it had new strings.
+      So Cornish bought the bass string at the Army and Navy Stores, and the
+      first preparation for the meeting of the floor committee was the tuning of
+      the banjo by the German clerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were, of course, flowers to be bought and arranged <i>tant bien que
+      mal</i> in empty ink-stands, a conceit of Joan's, who refused to spend the
+      fund money in any ornament less serious, while she quite recognized the
+      necessity for flowers on the table of a mixed committee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Hon. Rupert was the first to arrive. He was very small and neat and
+      rather effeminate. The experienced could tell at a glance that he came
+      from a fighting stock. He wore a grave and rather preoccupied air. He sat
+      down on the arm of a chair and looked sadly into the fire, while his lips
+      moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got something on your mind?&rdquo; asked Cornish, who was putting the finishing
+      touches to the arrangement of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a new song composed for the occasion 'The Maudlin Malgamite'; like
+      to hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I would rather wait. I think I hear a carriage at the door,&rdquo; said
+      Cornish, hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rupert Dalkyn had to be elected to the floor committee because he was Mrs.
+      Courteville's brother, and Mrs. Courteville was the best chaperon in
+      London. She was not only a widow, but her husband had been killed in
+      rather painful circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor dear,&rdquo; the people said when she had done something perhaps a little
+      unusual&mdash;&ldquo;poor dear; you know her husband was killed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So the late Courteville, in his lone grave by the banks of the Ogowe
+      River, watched over his wife's welfare, and made quite a nice place for
+      her in London society.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Rupert himself had been intended for the Church, but had at Cambridge
+developed such an exquisite sense of humour and so killing a power of
+mimicry that no one of the dons was safe, and his friends told him that
+he really mustn't. So he didn't. Since then Rupert had, to tell the
+truth, done nothing. The exquisite sense of humour had also slightly
+evaporated. People said, &ldquo;Oh yes, very funny,&rdquo; than which nothing is
+ more fatal to humour; and elderly ladies smiled a pinched smile at one
+side of their lips. It is so difficult to see a joke through those
+long-handled eye-glasses.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite right when he said that he had heard a carriage, for
+      presently the door opened, and Mrs. Courteville came in. She was small and
+      slight&mdash;&ldquo;a girlish figure,&rdquo; her maid told her&mdash;and well dressed.
+      She was just at that age when she did not look it&mdash;at an age,
+      moreover, when some women seem to combine a maximum of experience with a
+      minimum of thought. But who are we to pick holes in our neighbours'
+      garments? If any of us is quite sure that he is not doing more harm than
+      good in the world, let him by all means throw stones at Mrs. Courteville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan arrived next, accompanied by Lady Ferriby, who knew that if she
+      stayed at home she would only have to give tea to a number of people
+      towards whom she did not feel kindly enough disposed to reconcile herself
+      to the expense. Joan glanced hastily from Mrs. Courteville to Tony. She
+      had noticed that Mrs. Courteville always arrived early at the floor
+      committee meetings when these were held at the Malgamite office or in
+      Cornish's rooms. Joan wondered, while Mrs. Courteville was kissing her,
+      whether the widow had come with her brother or before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he not made the room look pretty with that mimosa?&rdquo; asked Mrs.
+      Courteville, vivaciously. People did not know how matters stood between
+      Joan Ferriby and Tony Cornish, and always wanted to know. That is why Mrs.
+      Courteville said &ldquo;he&rdquo; only when she drew Joan's attention to the flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The meeting may best be described as lively. We belong, however, to an
+      eminently practical generation, and some business was really transacted.
+      The night for the Malgamite ball was fixed, and a list of stewards drawn
+      up; and then the Hon. Rupert played the banjo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby had some calls to pay, so Cornish volunteered to walk across
+      the park with Joan, who had a healthy love of exercise. They talked of
+      various matters, and of course returned again and again to the Malgamite
+      affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Joan, at the corner of Cambridge Terrace, &ldquo;I had a
+      letter this morning from Dorothy Roden. I was at school with her, you
+      know, and never dreamt that Mr. Roden was her brother. In fact, I had
+      nearly forgotten her existence. She is coming across for the ball. She
+      says she saw you when you were at The Hague. You never mentioned her,
+      Tony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't I? She is not interested in the Malgamite scheme, you know. And
+      nobody who is not interested in that is worth mentioning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then Cornish asked a
+      question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of person was she at school?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she was a frivolous sort of girl&mdash;never took anything seriously,
+      you know. That is why she is not interested in the Malgamite, I suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; said Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;For this is death, and the sole death,
+     When a man's loss comes to him from his gain.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart told Roden that her house was in Park Street in The Hague.
+      But she did not mention that it was at the corner of Orange Street, which
+      makes all the difference. For Park Street is long, and the further end of
+      it&mdash;the extremity furthest removed from the Royal Palace&mdash;is
+      less desirable than the neighbourhood of the Vyverberg. Mrs. Vansittart's
+      house was in the most desirable part of a most desirable little city. She
+      was surrounded with houses inhabited by people bearing names well known in
+      history. These people are, moreover, of a fascinating cosmopolitanism.
+      They come from all parts of the world, in an ancestral sense. There are,
+      for instance, Dutch people living here whose names are Scottish. There are
+      others of French extraction, others again whose forefathers came to
+      Holland with the Don Juan of the religious wars whose history reads like a
+      romance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outwardly Mrs. Vansittart's house was of dark red brick, with stone
+      facings, and probably belonged to that period which in England is called
+      Tudor. Inwardly the house was as comfortable as thick carpets and rich
+      curtains and beautiful carvings could make it. The Dutch are pre-eminently
+      the flower-growers of the world, and the observant traveller walking along
+      Orange Street may note even in midwinter that the flowers in the windows
+      are changed each day. In this, as in other <i>menus plaisirs</i>, Mrs.
+      Vansittart had assumed the ways of the country of her adoption. For
+      Holland suggests to the inquiring mind an elderly gentleman, now getting a
+      little stout, who, after a wild youth, is beginning to appreciate the
+      blessings of repose and comfort; who, having laid by a small sufficiency,
+      sits peaceably by the fire, and reflects upon the days that are no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Mrs. Vansittart's pleasant habit to surround herself with every
+      comfort. She was an eminently self-respecting person&mdash;of that
+      self-respect which denies itself nothing except excess. She liked to be
+      well dressed, well housed, and well served. She possessed money, and with
+      it she bought these adjuncts, which in a minor degree are within the reach
+      of nearly everybody, though few have the wit to value them. She was not,
+      however, a vociferously contented woman. Like many another, she probably
+      wanted something that money could not buy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, in fulfilment of her promise to Percy Roden, called on
+      Dorothy at the Villa des Dunes, who in due course came to the house at the
+      corner of Park Street and Orange Street to return the visit. Dorothy had
+      been out when Mrs. Vansittart called, but she thought she knew from her
+      brother's description what sort of woman to expect. For Dorothy Roden had
+      been educated abroad, and was not without knowledge of a certain class of
+      English lady to be met with on the Continent, who is always well
+      connected, invariably idle, and usually refers gracefully to a great
+      sorrow in the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Dorothy knew, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vansittart that she had formed
+      an entirely erroneous conception. This was not the sort of woman to seek
+      the admiration of the first-comer, and Percy Roden had allowed his sister
+      to surmise that, whether it had been sought or not, Mrs. Vansittart had
+      certainly been accorded his highest admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is good of you to return my call so soon,&rdquo; she said, in a friendly
+      voice. &ldquo;You have walked, I suppose, all the way from the Villa des Dunes.
+      English girls are such great walkers now&mdash;a most excellent thing. I
+      belong to the semi-generation older than yours, which preferred a
+      carriage. I am an atrocious walker. You are not at all like your brother.&rdquo;
+       And she threw back her head and looked speculatively at her visitor. &ldquo;Sit
+      down,&rdquo; she said, with a laugh. &ldquo;You probably came here harbouring a
+      prejudice against me. One should never get to know a woman through her
+      men-folk. That is a rule almost without exception; you may take it from
+      one who is many years older than you. But&mdash;well, <i>nous verrons</i>.
+      Perhaps we are the exception.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, who was ready enough of speech. &ldquo;At all
+      events, all that Percy told me made me anxious to meet you. It is rather
+      lonely, you know, at the Villa des Dunes. You see, Percy is engaged all
+      day with his malgamiters. And, of course, we know no one here yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart, ringing the bell
+      for tea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes. The man who is associated with Percy at the works? I do not know
+      him. Percy has not brought him to the villa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Is that so? That is nice of your brother. Sometimes men, you know,
+      make use of their wives or their sisters to help them in their business
+      relationships. I have known a man use his pretty daughter to gain a
+      client. Beauty levels all, you see. Not nice, no; I suppose Herr von
+      Holzen, is&mdash;well&mdash;let us call him a foreign savant. Such a nice
+      broad term, you know; covers such a plentiful lack of soap.&rdquo; And she
+      laughed easily, with eyes that were quite grave and alert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother does not say much about him,&rdquo; answered Dorothy Roden. &ldquo;Percy
+      never does tell me much of his affairs, and I am not sorry. I am sure I
+      should not understand them. Stocks and shares and freights and things. I
+      never quite know whether a freight is part of a ship; do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. There are so many things more useful to know, are there not?&mdash;things
+      about people and human nature, for instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Dorothy, looking at her companion thoughtfully&mdash;&ldquo;yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mrs. Vansittart returned that thoughtful glance. &ldquo;And the other man,&rdquo;
+       she said suddenly, &ldquo;Mr.&mdash;Cornish&mdash;do you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He called at the Villa des Dunes. My brother brought him in to tea the
+      evening of arrival of the first batch of malgamiters,&rdquo; replied Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish interests me,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;I knew him when he was
+      a boy&mdash;or little more than a boy. He came to Weimar with a tutor to
+      learn German when I happened to be living there. I have heard of him from
+      time to time since. One sees his name in the society papers, you know. He
+      is one of those persons of whom something is expected by his friends&mdash;not
+      by himself. The young man who expects something of himself is usually
+      disappointed. Have you ever noticed in the biographies of great men, Miss
+      Roden that people nearly always began to expect something of them when
+      they were quite young? As if they were cast in a different mould from the
+      very first. Really great men, I mean not the fashionable pianist or
+      novelist of the hour whose portrait is in every illustrated journal for
+      perhaps two months, and then he is forgotten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart spoke quickly in a foreign manner, asking with a certain
+      vivacity questions which required no answer. Dorothy Roden was not slow of
+      speech, but she touched topics with less airiness. Her mind seemed a
+      trifle insular in its tendencies. One topic attracted her, and the rest
+      were set aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why does Mr. Cornish interest you?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart shrugged her shoulders and leant back in her deep chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He strikes me as a person with infinite capacity for holding his cards.
+      That is all. But perhaps he has no good cards in his hand? Nothing but
+      rubbish&mdash;the twos and threes of ordinary drawing-room smartness&mdash;and
+      never a trump. Who can tell? <i>Qui vivra verra</i>, Miss. Roden. It may
+      not be in my time that the world shall hear of Tony Cornish&mdash;the real
+      world, not the journalistic world, I mean. He may ripen slowly, and I
+      shall be dead. I am getting elderly. How old do you think I am, Miss
+      Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thirty-five,&rdquo; replied Dorothy; and Mrs. Vansittart turned sharply to look
+      at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said, slowly and thoughtfully. &ldquo;Yes, you are quite right. That
+      is my age. And I suppose I look it. I suppose others would have guessed
+      with equal facility, but not everybody would have had the honesty to say
+      what they thought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy laughed and changed colour. &ldquo;I said it without thinking,&rdquo; she
+      answered. &ldquo;I hope you do not mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not mind,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, looking out of the window. &ldquo;But
+      we were talking of Mr. Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, buttoning her glove and glancing at the clock.
+      &ldquo;Yes; but I must not talk any longer or I shall be late, and my brother
+      expects to find me at home when he returns from the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose and shook hands, looking Mrs. Vansittart in the eyes. When
+      Dorothy had gone, the lady of the house stood for a minute looking at the
+      closed door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder what she thinks of me?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Dorothy Roden, walking down Park Straat, was doing the same. She was
+      wondering what she thought of Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Although it was the month of April, the winter mists still rose at evening
+      and swept seawards from the marshes of Leyden. The trees had scarcely
+      begun to break into bud, for it had been a cold spring, and the ice was
+      floating lazily on the canal as Dorothy walked along its bank. The Villa
+      des Dunes was certainly somewhat lonely, standing as it did a couple of
+      hundred yards back from a sandy road&mdash;one of the many leading from
+      The Hague to Scheveningen. Between the villa and the road the dunes had
+      scarcely been molested, except indeed, to cut a narrow roadway to the
+      house. When Dorothy reached home, she found that her brother had not yet
+      returned. She looked at the clock. He was later than usual. The malgamite
+      works had during the last few weeks been absorbing more and more of his
+      attention. When he returned home, tired, in the evening, he was not
+      communicative. As for Otto von Holzen, he never showed his face outside
+      the works now, but seemed to live the life of a recluse within the iron
+      fence that surrounded the little colony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden had not returned to the Villa des Dunes at the usual hour
+      because he had other work to do. Von Holzen and he were now standing in
+      one of the little huts in silence. The light of the setting sun glowed
+      through the window upon their faces, upon the bare walls of the room,
+      rendered barer and in no way beautified by a terrible German print
+      purporting to represent the features of Prince Bismarck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, and looked out
+      of the window across the dreary dunes. Roden stood beside him, slouching
+      and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets. His lower lip
+      was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn and anxious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed, between the two men, lay a third&mdash;an old-looking youth
+      with lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and
+      it was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere. The man
+      was dying. He was a Pole who understood no word of English. Indeed, these
+      three men had no language in common in which to make themselves
+      understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you do nothing at all?&rdquo; asked Roden, for the second or third time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, without turning round. &ldquo;He was a doomed
+      man when he came here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lay on the bed and stared at Von Holzen's back. Perhaps that was
+      the reason why Von Holzen so persistently looked out of the window. The
+      work-hours were over, and from some neighbouring cottage the sounds of a
+      concertina came on the quiet air. The musician had chosen a popular
+      music-hall song, which he played over and over again with a maddening
+      pertinacity. Roden bit his lip, and frowned at each repetition of the
+      opening bars. Von Holzen, with a still, pale face and stern eyes, seemed
+      to hear nothing. He had no nerves. At times he twisted his lips,
+      moistening them with his tongue, and suppressed an impatient sigh. The man
+      was a long time in dying. They had been waiting there two hours. This
+      little incident had to be passed over as quietly as possible on account of
+      the feelings of the concertina player and the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door stood ajar, and in the adjoining room a professional nurse, in
+      cap and apron, sat reading a German newspaper. This also was a bedroom.
+      The cottage was, in point of fact, the hospital of the malgamite workers.
+      The nurse, whose services had not hitherto been wanted, had since the
+      inauguration of the works spent some pleasant weeks at a pension at
+      Scheveningen. She read her newspaper very philosophically, and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden it was who watched the patient. The dying man never heeded him, but
+      looked persistently towards Von Holzen. The expression of his eyes
+      indicated that if they had had a language in common he would have spoken
+      to him. Roden saw the direction of the man's glance, and perhaps read its
+      meaning. For Percy Roden was handicapped with that greatest of all drags
+      on a successful career&mdash;a soft heart. He could speak harshly enough
+      of the malgamiters as a class, but he was drawn towards this dumb
+      individual, with a strong desire to effect the impossible. Von Holzen had
+      not promised that there should be no deaths. He had merely undertaken to
+      reduce the dangers of the malgamite industry gradually and steadily until
+      they ceased to exist. He had, moreover, the strength of mind to give to
+      this incident its proper weight in the balance of succeeding events. He
+      was not, in a word, handicapped as was his colleague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sun set beyond the quiet sea and over the sand dunes the shades of
+      evening crept towards the west. The outline of Prince Bismarck's iron face
+      faded slowly in the gathering darkness, until it was nothing but a shadow
+      in a frame on the bare wall. The concertina player had laid aside his
+      instrument. A sudden silence fell upon land and sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen turned sharply on his heel and leant over the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along,&rdquo; he said to Roden, with averted eyes. &ldquo;It is all over. There
+      is nothing more for us to do here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a backward glance towards the bed, Roden followed his companion, out
+      of the room into the adjoining apartment where the nurse was sitting, and
+      where their coats and hats lay on the bed. Von Holzen spoke to the woman
+      in German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So!&rdquo; she answered, with a mild interest, and folded her paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men went out into the keen air together, and did not look towards
+      each other or speak. Perhaps they knew that if there is any difficulty in
+      speaking of a subject it is better to keep silence. They crossed the sandy
+      space between this cottage and the others grouped round the factory like
+      tents around their headquarters. One of these huts was Von Holzen's&mdash;a
+      three-roomed building where he worked and slept. Its windows looked out
+      upon the factory, and commanded the only entrance to the railed enclosure
+      within which the whole colony was confined. It was Von Holzen's habit to
+      shut himself within his cottage for days together, living there in
+      solitude like some crustacean within its shell. At the door he turned,
+      with his fingers on the handle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not worry yourself about this,&rdquo; he said to Roden, with averted
+      eyes. &ldquo;It cannot be helped, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course. Good night, Von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Percy Roden passed through the gateway, walking slowly across the
+      dunes towards his own house; while Von Holzen watched him from the window
+      of the little three-roomed cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le plus sur moyen d'arriver à son but c'est de ne pas faire
+     de rencontres en chemin.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it was long ago&mdash;'lang, lang izt's her'&mdash;you remember the
+      song Frau Neumayer always sang. So long ago, Mr. Cornish, that&mdash;&mdash;Well,
+      it must be Mr. Cornish, and not Tony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart leant back in her comfortable chair and looked at her
+      visitor with observant eyes. Those who see the most are they who never
+      appear to be observing. It is fatal to have others say that one is so
+      sharp, and people said as much of Mrs. Vansittart, who had quick dark eyes
+      and an alert manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;it is long ago, but not so long as all that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His smooth fair face was slightly troubled by the knowledge that the
+      recollections to which she referred were those of the Weimar days when she
+      who was now a widow had been a young married woman. Tony Cornish had also
+      been young in those days, and impressionable. It was before the world had
+      polished his surface bright and hard. And the impression left of the Mrs.
+      Vansittart of Weimar was that she was one of the rare women who marry <i>pour
+      le bon motif</i>. He had met her by accident in the streets of The Hague a
+      few hours ago, and having learnt her address, had, in duty bound, called
+      at the house at the corner of Park Straat and Oranje Straat at the
+      earliest calling hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not ignorant of your history since you were at Weimar,&rdquo; said the
+      lady, looking at him with an air of almost maternal scrutiny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no history,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I never had a past even, a few years
+      ago, when every man who took himself seriously had at least one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke as he had learnt to speak, with the surface of his mind&mdash;with
+      the object of passing the time and avoiding topics that might possibly be
+      painful. Many who appear to be egotistical must assuredly be credited with
+      this good motive. One is, at all events, safe in talking of one's self.
+      Sufficient for the social day is the effort to avoid glancing at the
+      cupboard where our neighbour keeps his skeleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A silence followed Cornish's heroic speech, and it was perhaps better to
+      face it than stave it off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, at the end of that pause, &ldquo;I am a widow and
+      childless. I see the questions in your face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish gave a little nod of the head, and looked out of the window. Mrs.
+      Vansittart was only a year older than himself, but the difference in their
+      life and experience, when they had learnt to know each other at Weimar,
+      had in some subtle way augmented the seniority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you never&mdash;&rdquo; he said, and paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she answered lightly. &ldquo;So I am what the world calls independent, you
+      see. No encumbrance of any sort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he nodded without speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The line between an encumbrance and a purpose is not very clearly
+      defined, is it?&rdquo; she said lightly; and then added a question, &ldquo;What are
+      you doing in The Hague&mdash;Malgamite?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, in surprise, &ldquo;Malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know all about it,&rdquo; laughed Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;I see Dorothy Roden
+      at least once a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she takes no part in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she takes no part in it, <i>mon ami</i>, except in so far as it
+      affects her brother and compels her to live in a sad little villa on the
+      Dunes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you&mdash;you are interested?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most assuredly. I have even given my mite. I am interested in&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      paused and shrugged her shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;in you, since you ask me, in
+      Dorothy, and in Mr. Roden. He gave the flowers at which you are so
+      earnestly looking, by the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Cornish, politely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, with a passing smile. &ldquo;He is kind enough
+      to give me flowers from time to time. You never gave me flowers, Mr.
+      Cornish, in the olden times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I could not afford good ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you would not offer anything more reasonable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to you,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But of course that was long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I am glad to hear that you know Miss Roden. It will make the little
+      villa on the Dunes less sad. The atmosphere of malgamite is not cheerful.
+      One sees it at its best in a London drawing-room. It is one of the many
+      realities which have an evil odour when approached too closely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are coming nearer to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is coming nearer to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, examining the rings with which her fingers
+      were laden. &ldquo;I thought there would be developments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are developments. Hence my presence in The Hague. Lord Ferriby <i>et
+      famille</i> arrive to-morrow. Also my friend Major White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fighting man?&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the fighting man. We are to have a solemn meeting. It has been found
+      necessary to alter our financial basis&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart held up a warning hand. &ldquo;Do not talk to me of your
+      financial basis. I know nothing of money. It is not from that point of
+      view that I contemplate your Malgamite scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Then, if one may inquire, from what point of view....?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From the human point of view; as does every other woman connected with
+      it. We are advancing, I admit, but I think we shall always be willing to
+      leave the&mdash;financial basis&mdash;to your down-trodden sex.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very kind of you to be interested in these poor people,&rdquo; began
+      Cornish; but Mrs. Vansittart interrupted him vivaciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor people? Gott bewahre!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Did you think I meant the
+      workers? Oh no! I am not interested in them. I am interested in your
+      Rodens and your Ferribys and your Whites, and even in your Tony Cornish. I
+      wonder who will quarrel and who will&mdash;well, do the contrary, and what
+      will come of it all? In my day young people were brought together by a
+      common pleasure, but that has gone out of fashion. And now it is a common
+      endeavour to achieve the impossible, to check the stars in their courses
+      by the holding of mixed meetings, and the enunciation of second-hand
+      platitudes respecting the poor and the masses&mdash;this is what brings
+      the present generation into that intercourse which ends in love and
+      marriage and death&mdash;the old programme. And it is from that point of
+      view alone, <i>mon ami</i>, that I take a particle of interest in your
+      Malgamite scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All of which Tony Cornish remembered later; for it was untrue. He rose to
+      take his leave with polite hopes of seeing her again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, do not hurry away,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am expecting Dorothy Roden, who
+      promised to come to tea. She will be disappointed not to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed in his light way. &ldquo;You are kind in your assumptions,&rdquo; he
+      answered. &ldquo;Miss Roden is barely aware of my existence, and would not know
+      me from Adam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless he stayed, moving about the room for some minutes looking at
+      the flowers and the pictures, of which he knew just as much as was
+      desirable and fashionable. He knew what flowers were &ldquo;in,&rdquo; such as
+      fuchsias and tulips, and what were &ldquo;out,&rdquo; such as camellias and double
+      hyacinths. About the pictures he knew a little, and asked questions as to
+      some upon the walls that belonged to the Dutch school. He was of the
+      universe, universal. Then he sat down again unobtrusively, and Mrs.
+      Vansittart did not seem to notice that he had done so, though she glanced
+      at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few minutes later Dorothy came in. She changed colour when Mrs.
+      Vansittart half introduced Cornish with the conventional, &ldquo;I think you
+      know each other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew you were coming to The Hague,&rdquo; she said, shaking hands with
+      Cornish. &ldquo;I had a letter from Joan the other day. They all are coming, are
+      they not? I am afraid Joan will be very much disappointed in me. She
+      thinks I am wrapped up heart and soul in the malgamiters&mdash;and I am
+      not, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned with a little laugh, and appealed to Mrs. Vansittart, who was
+      watching her closely, as if Dorothy were displaying some quality or point
+      hitherto unknown to the older woman. The girl's eyes were certainly
+      brighter than usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joan takes some things very seriously,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We all do that,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, without looking up from the
+      tea-table at which she was engaged. &ldquo;Yes; it is a mistake, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possibly,&rdquo; assented Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Do you take sugar, Miss Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, please&mdash;seriously. Two pieces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you like Joan?&rdquo; asked Cornish, as he gave her the cup. &ldquo;Do you take
+      anything else seriously?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no,&rdquo; answered Dorothy Roden, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your brother?&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Is he coming this
+      afternoon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will follow me. He is busy with the new malgamiters who arrived this
+      morning. I suppose you brought them, Mr. Cornish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I brought them. Twenty-four of them&mdash;the dregs, so to speak.
+      The very last of the malgamiters, collected from all parts of the world. I
+      was not proud of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down and quickly changed the conversation, showing quite clearly
+      that this subject interested him as little as it interested his
+      companions. He brought the latest news from London, which the ladies were
+      glad enough to hear. For to Dorothy Roden, at least, The Hague was a place
+      of exile, where men lived different lives and women thought different
+      thoughts. Are there not a hundred little rivulets of news which never flow
+      through the journals, but are passed from mouth to mouth, and seem shallow
+      enough, but which, uniting at last, form a great stream of public opinion,
+      and this, having formed itself imperceptibly, is suddenly found in full
+      flow, and is so obvious that the newspapers forget to mention it? Thus
+      colonists and other exiles returning to England, and priding themselves
+      upon having kept in touch with the progress of events and ideas in the old
+      country, find that their thoughts have all the while been running in the
+      wrong channels&mdash;that seemingly great events have been considered very
+      small, that small ideas have been lifted high by the babbling crowd which
+      is vaguely called society.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+From Tony Cornish, Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy learnt that among other
+social playthings charity was for the moment being laid aside. We have
+inherited, it appears, a great box of playthings, and the careful
+ student of history will find that none of the toys are new&mdash;that they
+have indeed been played with by our forefathers, who did just as we do.
+They took each toy from the box, and cried aloud that it was new, that
+the world had never seen its like before. Had it not, indeed? Then
+presently the toy&mdash;be it charity, or a new religion, or sentiment, or
+greed of gain, or war&mdash;is thrown back into the box again, where it lies
+until we of a later day drag it forth with the same cry that it is new.
+We grow wild with excitement over South African mines, and never
+recognize the old South Sea bubble trimmed anew to suit the taste of
+the day. We crow with delight over our East End slums, and never
+recognize the patched-up remnants of the last Crusade that fizzled out
+so ignominiously at Acre five hundred years ago.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      So Tony Cornish, who was <i>dans le movement</i> gently intimated to his
+      hearers that what may be called a robuster tone ruled the spirit of the
+      age. Charity was going down, athletics were coming up. Another Olympiad
+      had passed away. Wise indeed was Solon, who allowed four years for men to
+      soften and to harden again. During the Olympiads it is to be presumed that
+      men busied themselves with the slums that existed in those days, hearkened
+      to the decadent poetry or fiction of that time, and then, as the robuster
+      period of the games came round, braced themselves once more to the
+      consideration of braver things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It appeared, therefore, that the Malgamite scheme was already a thing of
+      the past so far as social London was concerned. A sensational 'Varsity
+      boat-race had given charity its <i>coup de grace</i>, had ushered in the
+      spring, when even the poor must shift for themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in the mean time,&rdquo; commented Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;here are four hundred
+      industrials landed, if one may so put it, at The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but that will be all right,&rdquo; retorted Cornish, with his gay laugh.
+      &ldquo;They only wanted a start. They have got their start. What more can they
+      desire? Is not Lord Ferriby himself coming across? He is at the moment on
+      board the Flushing boat. And he is making a great sacrifice, for he must
+      be aware that he does not look nearly so impressive on the Continent as he
+      does, say in Piccadilly, where the policemen know him, and even the
+      newspaper boys are dimly aware that this is no ordinary man to whom one
+      may offer a halfpenny Radical paper&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish broke off, and looked towards the door, which was at this moment
+      thrown open by a servant, who announced&mdash;&ldquo;Herr Roden. Herr von
+      Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men came forward together, Roden slouching and heavy-shouldered,
+      but well dressed; Von Holzen smaller, compacter, with a thoughtful, still
+      face and calculating eyes. Roden introduced his companion to the two
+      ladies. It is possible that a certain reluctance in his manner indicated
+      the fact that he had brought Von Holzen against his own desire. Either Von
+      Holzen had asked to be brought or Mrs. Vansittart had intimated to Roden
+      that she would welcome his associate, but this was not touched upon in the
+      course of the introduction. Cornish looked gravely on. Von Holzen was
+      betrayed into a momentary gaucheness, as if he were not quite at home in a
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden drew forward a chair, and seated himself near to Mrs. Vansittart
+      with an air of familiarity which the lady seemed rather to invite than to
+      resent. They had, it appeared, many topics in common. Roden had come with
+      the purpose of seeing Mrs. Vansittart, and no one else. Her manner, also,
+      changed as soon as Roden entered the room, and seemed to appeal with a
+      sort of deference to his judgment of all that she said or did. It was a
+      subtle change, and perhaps no one noticed it, though Dorothy, who was
+      exchanging conventional remarks with Von Holzen, glanced across the room
+      once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; Von Holzen was saying in his grave way, with his head bent a little
+      forward, as if the rounded brow were heavy&mdash;&ldquo;ah, but I am only the
+      chemist, Miss Roden. It is your brother who has placed us on our wonderful
+      financial basis. He has a head for finance, your brother, and is quick in
+      his calculations. He understands money, whereas I am only a scientist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke English correctly but slowly, with the Dutch accent, which is
+      slighter and less guttural than the German. Dorothy was interested in him,
+      and continued to talk with him, leaving Cornish standing at a little
+      distance, teacup in hand. Von Holzen was in strong contrast to the two
+      Englishmen. He was graver, more thoughtful, a man of deeper purpose and
+      more solid intellect. There was something dimly Napoleonic in the direct
+      and calculating glance of his eyes, as if he never looked idly at anything
+      or any man. It was he who made a movement after the lapse of a few moments
+      only, as if, having recovered his slight embarrassment, he did not intend
+      to stay longer than the merest etiquette might demand. He crossed the
+      room, and stood before Mrs. Vansittart, with his heels clapped well
+      together, making the most formal conversation, which was only varied by a
+      stiff bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a friendly recollection,&rdquo; he said, preparing to take his leave,
+      &ldquo;of a Charles Vansittart, a student at Leyden, with whom I was brought
+      into contact again in later life. He was, I believe, from Amsterdam, of an
+      English mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Mine is a common name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they bowed to each other in the foreign way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. DEEPER WATER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Une bonne intention est une échelle trop courte.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had considerable experience in such matters, and I think I may say
+      that the new financial scheme worked out by Mr. Roden and myself is a
+      sound one,&rdquo; Lord Ferriby was saying in his best manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was addressing Major White, Tony Cornish, Von Holzen, and Percy Roden,
+      convened to a meeting in the private <i>salon</i> occupied by the Ferribys
+      at the Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery, at The Hague.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+The <i>salon</i> in question was at the front of the house on the first
+floor, and therefore looked out upon the Toornoifeld, where the trees
+were beginning to show a tender green, under the encouragement of a
+ treacherous April sun. Major White, seated bolt upright in his chair,
+looked with a gentle surprise out of the window. He had so small an
+opinion of his understanding that he usually begged explanatory persons
+to excuse him. &ldquo;No doubt you're quite right, but it's no use trying to
+explain it to <i>me</i>, don't you know,&rdquo; he was in the habit of saying, and
+his attitude said no less at the present moment.
+</pre>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Von Holzen, with his chin in the palm of his hand, watched Lord
+Ferriby's face with a greater attention than that transparent
+physiognomy required. Roden's attention was fully occupied by the
+papers on the table in front of him. He was seated by Lord Ferriby's
+side, ready to prompt or assist, as behoved a merely mechanical
+subordinate. Lord Ferriby, dimly conscious of this mental attitude, had
+spoken Roden's name with considerable patronage, and with the evident
+desire to give every man his due. Cornish, in his quick and superficial
+way, glanced from one face to the other, taking in <i>en passant</i> any
+object in the room that happened to call for a momentary attention. He
+noted the passive and somewhat bovine surprise on White's face, and
+wondered whether it owed its presence thereto astonishment at finding
+himself taking part in a committee meeting or amazement at the
+suggestion that Lord Ferriby should be capable of evolving any scheme,
+financial or otherwise, out of his own brain. The committee thus
+summoned was a fair sample of its kind. Here were a number of men
+ dividing a sense of responsibility among them so impartially that there
+was not nearly enough of it to go round. In a multitude of councilors
+there may be safety, but it is assuredly the councillors only who are
+safe.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The reasons,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;why it is inexpedient to continue
+      in our present position as mere trustees of a charitable fund are too
+      numerous to go into at the present moment. Suffice it to say that there
+      are many such reasons, and that I have satisfied myself of their
+      soundness. Our chief desire is to ameliorate the condition of the
+      malgamite workers. It must assuredly suggest itself to any one of us that
+      the best method of doing this is to make the malgamite workers an
+      independent corporation, bound together by the greatest of ties, a common
+      interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker paused, and turned to Roden with a triumphant smile, as much
+      as to say, &ldquo;There, beat that if you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden could not beat it, so he nodded thoughtfully, and examined the point
+      of his pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, impressively, &ldquo;the greatest common
+      interest is a common purse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the meeting was too small for applause, Lord Ferriby only allowed
+      sufficient time for this great truth to be assimilated, and then continued&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      is proposed, therefore, that we turn the Malgamite Works into a company,
+      the most numerous shareholders to be the malgamiters themselves. The most
+      numerous shareholders, mark you&mdash;not the heaviest shareholders. These
+      shall be ourselves. We propose to estimate the capital of the company at
+      ten thousand pounds, which, as you know, is, approximately speaking, the
+      amount raised by our appeals on behalf of this great charity. We shall
+      divide this capital into two thousand five-pound shares, allot one share
+      to each malgamite worker&mdash;say five hundred shares&mdash;and retain
+      the rest&mdash;say fifteen hundred shares&mdash;ourselves. Of those
+      fifteen hundred, it is proposed to allot three hundred to each of us. Do I
+      make myself clear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Major White, optimistically polishing his eye-glass with a
+      pocket-handkerchief. &ldquo;Any ass could understand that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Our friend Mr. Roden,&rdquo; continued his lordship, &ldquo;who, I mention in
+passing, is one of the finest financiers with whom I have ever had
+ relationship, is of opinion that this company, having its works in
+Holland, should not be registered as a limited company in England. The
+reasons for holding such an opinion are, briefly, connected with the
+interference of the English law in the management of a limited
+liability company formed for the sole purpose of making money.
+We are not disposed to classify ourselves as such a company. We are not
+disposed to pay the English income tax on money which is intended for
+distribution in charity. Each malgamite worker, with his one share, is
+not, precisely speaking, so much a shareholder as a participator in
+profits. We are not in any sense a limited liability company.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently indicated
+      by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture with
+      portentous gravity and wisdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to the question of profit and loss,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;I am
+      not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware
+      that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands. It
+      is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any way
+      profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name only, and
+      receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of the Malgamite
+      Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we have administered
+      the fund&mdash;for the sole benefit of the malgamite workers. The profits
+      of these poor men, earned on their own share, may reasonably be considered
+      in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis upon which I propose that
+      we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's careful consideration, and I
+      think we are ready to give our consent to any proposal which has received
+      so marked a benefit. There are, of course, many details which will require
+      discussion&mdash;&mdash;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a few
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah&mdash;yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as
+      much as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had yawned
+      more than once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now as to the past,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby. &ldquo;The works have been going
+      for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly satisfactory&mdash;&mdash;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many deaths?&rdquo; inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deaths? Ah&mdash;among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von
+      Holzen can tell you better than I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen, quietly, &ldquo;there have, of course, been deaths,
+      but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had, as Mr.
+      Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they arrived at
+      The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They certainly looked seedy,&rdquo; admitted Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will, I think, turn rather to the&mdash;eh&mdash;er&mdash;living,&rdquo;
+       said Lord Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly
+      reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of White
+      to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was that
+      charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical facts,
+      if these be discouraging. &ldquo;I have here the result of the three months'
+      work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at the papers with so condescending an air that it was quite
+      evident that, had he been a business man and not a lord, he would have
+      understood them at a glance. There was a short silence while he turned
+      over the closely written sheets with an air of approving interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, as if during those moments he had run his eye up all the
+      column of figures and found them correct, &ldquo;the result, as I say,
+      gentlemen, has been most satisfactory. We have manufactured a malgamite
+      which has been well received by the paper-makers. We have, furthermore,
+      been able to supply at the current rate without any serious loss. We are
+      increasing our plant, and the day is not so far distant when we may, at
+      all events, hope to be self-supporting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby sat up and pulled down his waistcoat, a sure signal that the
+      fountain of his garrulous inspiration was for the moment dried up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With great presence of mind Tony Cornish interposed a question which only
+      Roden could answer, and after the consideration of some statistics, the
+      proceedings terminated. It had been apparent all through that Percy Roden
+      was the only business man of the party. In any question of figures or
+      statistics his colleagues showed plainly that they were at sea. Lord
+      Ferriby had in early life been managed by a thrifty mother, who had in due
+      course married him to a thrifty wife. Tony Cornish's business affairs had
+      been narrowed down to the financial fiasco of a tailor's bill far beyond
+      his facilities. Major White had, in his subaltern days, been despatched
+      from Gibraltar on a business quest into the interior of Spain to buy mules
+      there for his Queen and country. He fell out with a dealer at Ronda, whom
+      he knocked down, and returned to Gibraltar branded as unbusiness-like and
+      hasty, and there his commercial enterprise had terminated. Von Holzen was
+      only a scientist, a fact of which he assured his colleagues repeatedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If plain speaking be a sign of friendship, then women are assuredly
+      capable of higher flights than men. A lifelong friendship between two
+      women usually means that they quarrelled at school, and have retained in
+      later days the privilege of mutual plain speaking. If Jones, who was
+      Tompkins's best man, goes yachting with Tompkins in later days, these two
+      sinners are quite capable of enjoying themselves immensely in the present
+      without raking about among the ashes of the past to seek the reason why
+      Tompkins persisted, in spite of his friends' advice, in making an idiot of
+      himself over that Robinson girl&mdash;Jones standing by all the while with
+      the ring in his waistcoat pocket. Whereas, if the friendship existed
+      between the respective ladies of Jones and Tompkins, their conversation
+      will usually be found to begin with: &ldquo;I always told you, Maria, when we
+      were girls together,&rdquo; or, &ldquo;Well, Jane, when we were at school you never
+      would listen to me.&rdquo; A man's friendship is apparently based upon a
+      knowledge of another's redeeming qualities. A woman's dearest friend is
+      she whose faults will bear the closest investigation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was doubtless owing to these trifling variations in temperament that
+      Joan Ferriby learnt more about The Hague and Percy Roden and Otto von
+      Holzen, and lastly, though not leastly, Mrs. Vansittart, in ten minutes
+      than Tony Cornish could have learnt in a month of patient investigation.
+      The first five of these ten precious minutes were spent in kissing Dorothy
+      Roden, and admiring her hat, and holding her at arm's length, and saying,
+      with conviction, that she was a dear. Then Joan asked why Dorothy had
+      ceased writing, and Dorothy proved that it was Joan who had been in
+      default, and lo! a bridge was thrown across the years, and they were
+      friends once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you mean to tell me,&rdquo; said Joan, as they walked up the Korte Voorhout
+      towards the canal and the Wood, &ldquo;that you don't take any interest in the
+      Malgamite scheme?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;And I am weary of the very word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But then you always were rather&mdash;well, frivolous, weren't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not take lessons as seriously as you, perhaps, if that is what you
+      mean,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Joan, who had come across to Holland full of zeal in well-doing, and
+      as seriously as ever Queen Marguerite sailed to the Holy Land, walked on
+      in silence. The trees were just breaking into leaf, and the air was laden
+      with a subtle odour of spring. The Korte Voorhout is, as many know, a
+      short broad street, spotlessly clean, bordered on either side by quaint
+      and comfortable houses. The traffic is usually limited to one carriage
+      going to the Wood, and on the pavement a few leisurely persons engaged in
+      taking exercise in the sunshine. It was a different atmosphere to that
+      from which Joan had come, more restful, purer perhaps, and certainly
+      healthier, possibly more thoughtful; and charity, above all virtues, to be
+      practiced well must be practiced without too much reflection. He who lets
+      wisdom guide his bounty too closely will end by giving nothing at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At all events,&rdquo; said Joan, &ldquo;it is splendid of Mr. Roden to work so hard
+      in the cause, and to give himself up to it as he does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye&mdash;es.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan turned sharply and looked at her companion. Dorothy Roden's face was
+      not, perhaps, easy to read, especially when she turned, as she turned now,
+      to meet an inquiring glance with an easy smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have known so many of Percy's schemes,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;that you must
+      not expect me to be enthusiastic about this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this must succeed, whatever may have happened to the others,&rdquo; cried
+      Joan. &ldquo;It is such a good cause. Surely nothing can be a better aim than to
+      help such afflicted people, who cannot help themselves, Dorothy! And it is
+      so splendidly organized. Why, Mr. Johnson, the labour expert, you know,
+      who wears no collar and a soft hat, said that it could not have been
+      better organized if it had been a strike. And a Bishop Somebody&mdash;a
+      dear old man with legs like a billiard-table&mdash;said it reminded him of
+      the early Christians' <i>esprit de corps</i>, or something like that.
+      Doesn't sound like a bishop, though, does it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it doesn't,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy, doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So if your brother thinks it will not succeed,&rdquo; said Joan, confidently,
+      &ldquo;he is wrong. Besides&rdquo;&mdash;in a final voice&mdash;&ldquo;he has Tony to help
+      him, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Dorothy, looking straight in front of her, &ldquo;of course he has
+      Mr. Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Tony,&rdquo; pursued Joan, eagerly, &ldquo;always succeeds. There is something
+      about him&mdash;I don't know what it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy recollected that Mrs. Vansittart had said something like this
+      about Tony Cornish. She had said that he had the power of holding his
+      cards and only playing them at the right moment. Which is perhaps the
+      secret of success in life, namely, to hold one's cards, and, if the right
+      moment does not present itself, never to play them at all, but to hold
+      them to the end of the game, contenting one's self with the knowledge that
+      one has had, after all, the makings of a fine game that might have been
+      worth the playing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are people, you know,&rdquo; Joan broke in earnestly, &ldquo;who think that if
+      they can secure Tony for a picnic the weather will be fine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And does he know it?&rdquo; asked Dorothy, rather shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony?&rdquo; laughed Joan. &ldquo;Of course not. He never thinks about anything like
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. IN THE OUDE WEG.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le sage entend à demi mot.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The porter of the hotel on the Toornoifeld was enjoying his early
+      cigarette in the doorway, when he was impelled by a natural politeness to
+      stand aside for one of the visitors in the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You promenade yourself thus early?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, cheerily, &ldquo;I promenade myself thus early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have had your coffee?&rdquo; asked the porter. &ldquo;It is not good to go near
+      the canals when one is empty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish lingered a few minutes, and made the man's mind easy on this
+      point. There are many who obtain a vast deal of information without ever
+      asking a question, just as there are some&mdash;and they are mostly women&mdash;who
+      ask many questions and are told many lies. Tony Cornish had a cheery way
+      with him which made other men talk. He was also as quick as a woman. He
+      went about the world picking up information.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The city clocks were striking seven as he walked across the Toornoifeld,
+      where the morning mist still lingered among the trees. The great square
+      was almost deserted. Holland, unlike France, is a lie-abed country, and at
+      an hour when a French town would be astir and its streets already thronged
+      with people hurrying to buy or sell at the greatest possible advantage, a
+      Dutch city is still asleep. Park Straat was almost deserted as Cornish
+      walked briskly down it towards the Willem's Park and Scheveningen. A few
+      street cleaners were leisurely working, a few milkmen were hurrying from
+      door to door, but the houses were barred and silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish walked on the right-hand side of the road, which made it all the
+      easier for Mrs. Vansittart to perceive him from her bedroom window as he
+      passed Oranje Straat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said that lady, and rang the bell for her maid, to whom she
+      explained that she had a sudden desire to take a promenade this fine
+      morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Tony Cornish walked down the Oude Weg under the trees of that great
+      thoroughfare, with Mrs. Vansittart following him leisurely by one of the
+      side paths, which, being elevated above the road enabled her to look down
+      upon the Englishman and keep him in sight. When he came within view of the
+      broad road that cuts the Scheveningen wood in two and leads from the East
+      Dunes to the West&mdash;from the Malgamite Works, in a word, to the
+      cemetery&mdash;he sat down on a bench hidden by the trees. And Mrs.
+      Vansittart, a hundred yards behind him, took possession of a seat as
+      effectually concealed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They remained thus for some time, the object of a passing curiosity to the
+      fish-merchants journeying from Scheveningen to The Hague. Then Tony
+      Cornish seemed to perceive something on the road towards the sea which
+      interested him, and Mrs. Vansittart, rising from her seat, walked down to
+      the main pathway, which commanded an uninterrupted view. That which had
+      attracted Cornish's attention was a funeral, cheap, sordid, and obscure,
+      which moved slowly across the Oude Weg by the road, crossing it at right
+      angles. It was a peculiar funeral, inasmuch as it consisted of three
+      hearses and one mourning carriage. The dead were, therefore, almost as
+      numerous as the living, an unusual feature in civil burials. From the
+      window of the rusty mourning coach there looked a couple of debased
+      countenances, flushed with drink and that special form of excitement which
+      is especially associated with a mourning coach hired on credit and a
+      funeral beyond one's means. Behind these two faces loomed others. There
+      seemed to be six men within the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The procession was not inspiriting, and Cornish's face was momentarily
+      grave as he watched it. When it had passed, he rose and walked slowly back
+      towards The Hague. Before he had gone far, he met Mrs. Vansittart face to
+      face, who rose from a seat as he approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, <i>mon ami</i>,&rdquo; she asked, with a short laugh, &ldquo;have you had a
+      pleasant walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has had a pleasant end, at all events,&rdquo; he replied, meeting her glance
+      with an imperturbable smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She jerked her head upwards with a little foreign gesture of indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is to be presumed,&rdquo; she said, as they walked on side by side, &ldquo;that
+      you have been exploring and investigating our&mdash;byways. Remember, my
+      good Tony, that I live in The Hague, and may therefore be possessed of
+      information that might be useful to you. It will probably be at your
+      disposal when you need it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with daring black eyes, and laughed. A strong man
+      usually takes a sort of pride in his power. This woman enjoyed the same
+      sort of exultation in her own cleverness. She was not wise enough to hide
+      it, which is indeed a grim, negative pleasure usually enjoyed by elderly
+      gentlemen only. Social progress has, moreover, made it almost a crime to
+      hide one's light under a bushel. Are we not told, in so many words, by the
+      interviewer and the personal paragraphist, that it is every man's duty to
+      set his light upon a candlestick, so that his neighbour may at least try
+      to blow it out?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had learnt to know Mrs. Vansittart at a period in her life when,
+      as a young married woman, she regarded all her juniors with a matronly
+      goodwill, none the less active that it was so exceedingly new. She had in
+      those days given much good advice, which Cornish had respectfully heard.
+      Fate had brought them together at the rare moment and in almost the sole
+      circumstances that allow of a friendship being formed between a man and a
+      woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked slowly side by side now under the trees of the Oude Weg,
+      inhaling the fresh morning air, which was scented by a hundred breaths of
+      spring, and felt clean to face and lips. Mrs. Vansittart had no intention
+      of resigning her position of mentor and friend. It was, moreover, one of
+      those positions which will not bear being defined in so many words.
+      Between men and women it often happens that to point out the existence of
+      certain feelings is to destroy them. To say, &ldquo;Be my friend,&rdquo; as often as
+      not makes friendship impossible. Mrs. Vansittart was too clever a woman to
+      run such a risk in dealing with a man in whom she had detected a reserve
+      of which the rest of the world had taken no account. It is unwise to enter
+      into war or friendship without seeing to the reserves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember,&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, suddenly, &ldquo;how wise we were when
+      we were young? What knowledge of the world, what experience of life one
+      has when all life is before one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; admitted Cornish, guardedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if I preached a great deal, I at all events did you no harm,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Vansittart, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And as to experience, well, one buys that later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and the wise re-sell&mdash;at a profit,&rdquo; laughed Cornish. &ldquo;It is not
+      a commodity that any one cares to keep. If we cannot sell it, we offer it
+      for nothing, to the young.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who accept it, at an even lower valuation; and you and I, Mr. Tony
+      Cornish, are cynics who talk cheap epigrams to hide our thoughts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on for a few yards in silence. Then Tony turned in his quick
+      way and looked at her. He had thin, mobile lips, which expressed
+      friendship and curiosity at this moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are <i>you</i> thinking?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned and looked at him with grave, searching eyes, and when these
+      met his it became apparent that their friendship had re-established
+      itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of your affairs,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and funerals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both lugubrious,&rdquo; suggested Cornish. &ldquo;But I am obliged to you for so far
+      honouring me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off, and again walked on in silence. She glanced at him half
+      angrily, and gave a quick shrug of the shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will not speak,&rdquo; she said, opening her parasol with a snap. &ldquo;So
+      be it. The time has perhaps not come yet. But if I am in the humour when
+      that time does come, you will find that you have no ally so strong as I.
+      Ah, you may stick your chin out and look as innocent as you like! You are
+      not easy in your mind, my good friend, about this precious Malgamite
+      scheme. But I ask no confidences, and, <i>bon Dieu</i>! I give none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a little laugh, and looked at him beneath the shade of
+      her parasol. She had a hundred foreign ways of putting a whole wealth of
+      meaning into a single gesture, into a movement of a parasol or a fan, such
+      as women acquire, and use upon poor defenceless men, who must needs face
+      the world with stolid faces and slow, dumb hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish answered the laugh readily enough. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;then I am
+      accused of uneasiness of mind of preoccupation, in fact. I plead guilty. I
+      made a mistake. I got up too early. It was a fine morning, and I was
+      tempted to take a walk before breakfast, which we have at half-past nine,
+      in a fine old British way. We have toast and a fried sole. Great is the
+      English milord!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were in Park Straat now, in sight of Mrs. Vansittart's house. And
+      that lady knew that her companion was talking in order to say nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We leave this morning,&rdquo; continued Cornish, in the same vein. &ldquo;And we
+      rather flatter ourselves that we have upheld the dignity of our nation in
+      these benighted foreign parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that poor Lord Ferriby! It is so easy to laugh at him. You think him
+      a fool, although&mdash;or because&mdash;he is your uncle. So do I,
+      perhaps. But I always have a little distrust for the foolishness of a
+      person who has once been a knave. You know your uncle's reputation&mdash;the
+      past one, I mean, not the whitewash. Do not forget it.&rdquo; They had reached
+      the corner of Oranje Straat, and Mrs. Vansittart paused on her own
+      doorstep. &ldquo;So you leave this morning,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Remember that I am in
+      The Hague, and&mdash;well, we were once friends. If I can help you, make
+      use of me. You have been wonderfully discreet, my friend. And I have not.
+      But discretion is not required of a woman. If there is anything to tell
+      you, you shall hear from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her hand, and bade him good-bye with a semi-malicious laugh.
+      Then she stood in the porch, and watched him walk quickly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is Dorothy Roden,&rdquo; she said to herself, with a wise nod. &ldquo;A queer
+      case. One of those at first sight, one may suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rodens, of whom she thought at the moment, were not only thinking, but
+      speaking of her. They had finished breakfast, and Dorothy was standing at
+      the window looking out over the Dunes towards the sea. Her brother was
+      still seated at the table, and had lighted a cigarette. Like many another
+      who offers an exaggerated respect to women as a whole, he was rather
+      inclined to Bohemianism at home, and denied to his immediate feminine
+      relations the privileges accorded to their sex in general. He was older
+      than Dorothy, who had always been dependent upon him to a certain extent.
+      She had a little money of her own, and quite recognized the fact that,
+      should her brother marry, she would have to work for her living. In the
+      mean time, however, it suited them both to live together, and Dorothy had
+      for her brother that affection of which only women are capable. It amounts
+      to an affectionate tolerance more than to a tolerant affection. For it
+      perceives its object's little failings with a calm and judicial eye. It
+      weighs the man in the balance, and finds him wanting. This, moreover, is
+      the lot of a large proportion of women. This takes the place of that
+      higher feeling which is probably the finest emotion of which the human
+      heart is capable. And yet there are men who grudge these sufferers their
+      petty triumphs, their poor little emancipation, their paltry
+      wrangler-ships, their very bicycles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't like this place&mdash;I know that,&rdquo; Percy Roden was saying, in
+      continuation of a desultory conversation. He looked up from the letters
+      before him with a smile which was kind enough and a little patronizing.
+      Patronage is perhaps the armour of the outwitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not very much,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with a laugh. &ldquo;But I dare say it will
+      be better in the summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean this villa,&rdquo; pursued Roden, flicking the ash from his cigarette
+      and leaning back in his chair. He had grand, rather tired gestures, which
+      possibly impressed some people. Grandeur, however, like sentiment, is not
+      indigenous to the hearth. Our domestic admirers are not always watching
+      us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy was looking out of the window. &ldquo;It is not a bad little place,&rdquo; she
+      said practically, &ldquo;when one has grown accustomed to its sandiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be for long,&rdquo; said Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And his sister turned and looked at him with a sudden gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been thinking that it will be better for us to move into The
+      Hague&mdash;Park Straat or Oranje Straat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and faced him now. There was a faint, far-off resemblance
+      between these two, but Dorothy had the better face&mdash;shrewder, more
+      thoughtful, cleverer. Her eyes, instead of being large and dark and rather
+      dreamy, were grey and speculative. Her features were clear-cut and
+      well-cut&mdash;a face suggestive of feeling and of self-suppression,
+      which, when they go together, go to the making of a satisfactory human
+      being. This was a woman who, to put it quite plainly, would scarcely have
+      been held in honour by our grandmothers, but who promised well enough for
+      her possible granddaughters; who, when the fads are lived down and the
+      emancipation is over and the shrieking is done, will make a very excellent
+      grandmother to a race of women who shall be equal to men and respected of
+      men, and, best of all, beloved of men. Wise mothers say that their
+      daughters must sooner or later pass through an awkward age. Woman is
+      passing through an awkward age now, and Dorothy Roden might be classed
+      among those who are doing it gracefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at her brother with those wise grey eyes, and did not speak at
+      once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oranje Straat and Park Straat,&rdquo; she said lightly, &ldquo;cost money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is all right!&rdquo; answered her brother, carelessly, as one who in
+      his time has handled great sums.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Then we are prosperous?&rdquo; inquired Dorothy, mindful of other great
+ schemes which had not always done their duty by their originator.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! We shall make a good thing out of this Malgamite. The labourer is
+      worthy of his hire, you know. There is no reason why we should not take a
+      better house than this. Mrs. Vansittart knows of one in Park Straat which
+      would suit us. Do you like her&mdash;Mrs. Vansittart, I mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His tone was slightly patronizing again. The Malgamite was a success, it
+      appeared, and assuredly success is the most difficult emergency that a man
+      has to face in life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, quietly. She looked hard at her brother;
+      for Dorothy had long ago gauged him, and had recently gauged Mrs.
+      Vansittart with a facility which is quite incomprehensible to men and easy
+      enough to women. She knew that her brother was not the sort of man to
+      arouse the faintest spark of love in the heart of such a woman as her of
+      whom they spoke. And yet Percy's tone implied as clearly as if the words
+      had been spoken that he had merely to offer to Mrs. Vansittart his hand
+      and heart in order to make her the happiest of women. Either Dorothy or
+      her brother was mistaken in Mrs. Vansittart. Between a man and a woman it
+      is usually the man who is mistaken in an estimate of another woman.
+      Dorothy was wondering, not whether Mrs. Vansittart admired her brother,
+      but why that lady was taking the trouble to convey to him that such was
+      the case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. SUBURBAN
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le bonheur c'est être né joyeux.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      There are in the suburbs of London certain strata of men which lie in
+      circles of diminishing density around the great city, like <i>debris</i>
+      around a volcano. London indeed erupts every evening between the hours of
+      five and six, and throws out showers of tired men, who lie where they fall&mdash;or
+      rather where their season ticket drops them&mdash;until morning, when they
+      arise and crowd back again to the seething crater. The deposits of small
+      clerks and tradespeople fall near at hand in a dense shower, bounded on
+      the north by Finchley, on the south by Streatham. An outer circle of head
+      clerks, Government servants, junior partners, covers the land in a stratum
+      reaching as far south as Surbiton, as far north as the Alexandra Palace.
+      And beyond these limits are cast the brighter lights of commerce, law, and
+      finance, who fall, a thin golden shower, in the favoured neighbourhoods of
+      the far suburbs, where, from eventide till morning, they play at being
+      country gentlemen, talking stock and stable, with minds attuned to share
+      and produce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Joseph Wade, banker, was one of those who are thrown far afield by the
+      facilities of a fine suburban train service. He wore a frock-coat, a very
+      shiny hat, and he read the <i>Times</i> in the train. He lived in a
+      staring red house, solid brick without and solid comfort within, in the
+      favoured pine country of Weybridge. He was one of those pillars of the
+      British Constitution who are laughed at behind their backs and eminently
+      respected to their faces. His gardeners trembled before him, his coachman,
+      as stout and respectable as himself, knew him to be a just and a good
+      master, who grudged no man his perquisites, and behaved with a fine
+      gentlemanly tact at those trying moments when the departing visitor is
+      desirous of tipping and the coachman knows that it is blessed to receive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade rather scorned the amateur country-gentleman hobby which so many
+      of his travelling companions affected. It led them to don rough tweed
+      suits on Sunday, and walk about their paddocks and gardens as if these
+      formed a great estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a banker,&rdquo; he said, with that sound common sense which led him to
+      avoid those cheap affectations of superiority that belong to the outer
+      strata of the daily volcanic deposit&mdash;&ldquo;I am a banker, and I am
+      content to be a banker in the evening and on Sundays, as well as during
+      bank-hours. What should I know about horses or Alderneys or Dorking fowls?
+      None of 'em yield a dividend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade, in fact, looked upon &ldquo;The Brambles&rdquo; as a place of rest, arriving
+      there at half-past six, in time to dress for a very good dinner. After
+      dinner he read in a small way by no means to be despised. He had a taste
+      for biography, and cherished in his stout heart a fine old respect for
+      Thackeray and Dickens and Walter Scott. Of the modern fictionists he knew
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me they are splitting straws, my dear,&rdquo; he once said to an
+      earnest young person who thought that literature meant contemporary
+      fiction, whereas we all know that the two are in no way connected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joseph Wade was a widower, having some years before buried a wife as stout
+      and sensible as himself. He never spoke of her except to his daughter
+      Marguerite, now leaving school, and usually confined his remarks to a
+      consideration of what Marguerite's mother would have liked in the
+      circumstances under discussion at the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had been educated at Cheltenham, and &ldquo;finished&rdquo; at Dresden,
+      without any limit as to extras. She had come home from Dresden a few
+      months before the Malgamite scheme was set on foot, to find herself
+      regarded by her father in the light of a rather delicate financial crisis.
+      The affection which had always existed between father and daughter soon
+      developed into something stronger&mdash;something volatile and half
+      mocking on her part, indulgent and half mystified on his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is rather a handful,&rdquo; wrote Mr. Wade to Tony Cornish, &ldquo;and too
+      inconsequent to let my mind be easy about her future. I wish you would run
+      down and dine and sleep at 'The Brambles' some evening soon. Monday is
+      Marguerite's eighteenth birthday. Will you come on that evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not thirty-three yet,&rdquo; reflected Mr. Wade, as he folded the letter
+      and slipped it into an envelope, &ldquo;and she is the sort of girl who must be
+      able to give a man her full respect before she can give him&mdash;er&mdash;anything
+      else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From which it may be perceived that the astute banker was preparing to
+      face the delicate financial crisis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish received the invitation the day after returning from Holland. Mr.
+      Wade had been his father's friend and trustee, and was, he understood,
+      distantly related to the mother whom Tony had never known. Such
+      invitations were not infrequent, and it was the recipient's custom to set
+      aside others in order to reply with an acceptance. A friendship had sprung
+      up between two men who were not only divided by a gulf of years, but had
+      hardly a thought in common.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On arriving at Weybridge station, Cornish found Marguerite awaiting his
+      arrival in a very high dog-cart drawn by an exceedingly shiny cob, which
+      animal she proceeded to handle with vast spirit and a blithe ignorance.
+      She looked trim and fresh, with bright brown hair under a smart sailor
+      hat, and a complexion almost dazzling in its youthfulness and brilliancy.
+      She nodded gaily at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hop up,&rdquo; she said encouragingly, &ldquo;and then hang on like grim death. There
+      are going to be&mdash;whoa, my pet!&mdash;er&mdash;ructions. All right,
+      William. Let go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob squeaked,
+      stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then dashed across
+      the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to observe a bank of
+      stones at one side of the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mind this sort of thing?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, as they bumped
+      heavily over the obstruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it.&rdquo; Marguerite arranged
+      the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle across her
+      companion's vision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm learning to drive, you know,&rdquo; she said, leaning confidently down from
+      her high seat. &ldquo;And papa thinks that because this young gentleman is
+      rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady! Keep off
+      the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to&mdash;Well, I'm&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to the
+      road again&mdash;&ldquo;blowed,&rdquo; she added, religiously completing her
+      unfinished sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more
+      steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad you have come, you know,&rdquo; Marguerite took the opportunity
+      of assuring the visitor. &ldquo;It is jolly slow, I can tell you, at times; and
+      then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to manage. It took me a
+      week to get this pony out of him. His great idea is for somebody to marry
+      me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that has to be placed or sunk or
+      something, somewhere. There was a young Scotchman here the week before
+      last. I have forgotten his name already. John&mdash;something&mdash;Fairly.
+      Yes, that is it&mdash;John Fairly, of Auchen-something. It is better to be
+      John Fairly, of Auchen-something, than a belted earl, it appears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did John tell you so himself?&rdquo; inquired Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on my
+      guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice and
+      sheer off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; said Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure that
+      he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not speak to
+      him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a Scotch accent&mdash;just
+      a suspeecion of an accent, you know&mdash;nothing to get hold of, but just
+      enough to let him know that his Auchen-something would not go down with
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke with a sort of inconsequent earnestness, a relic of the
+      school-days she had so lately left behind. She did not seem to have had
+      time to decide yet whether life was a rattling farce or a matter of deadly
+      earnest. And who shall blame her, remembering that older heads than hers
+      are no clearer on that point?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On approaching the red villa by its short entrance drive of yellow gravel,
+      they perceived Mr. Wade slowly walking in his garden. The garden of &ldquo;The
+      Brambles&rdquo; was exactly the sort of garden one would expect to find attached
+      to a house of that name. It was chiefly conspicuous for its lack of
+      brambles, or indeed of any vegetable of such disorderly habit. Yellow
+      gravel walks intersected smooth lawns. April having drawn almost to its
+      close, there were thin red lines of tulips standing at attention all along
+      the flowery borders. Not a stalk was out of place. One suspected that the
+      flowers had been drilled by a martinet of a gardener. The sight of an
+      honest weed would have been a relief to the eye. The curse of too much
+      gardener and too little nature lay over the land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, holding out a large white hand. &ldquo;You perceive me
+      inspecting the garden, and if you glance in the direction of McPherson's
+      cottage you will perceive McPherson watching me. I pay him a hundred and
+      twenty and he knows that it is too much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way, papa,&rdquo; put in Marguerite, gravely, &ldquo;will you tell McPherson
+      that he will receive a month's notice if he counts the peaches this
+      summer, as he did last year?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade laughed, and promised her a freer hand in this matter. They
+      walked in the trim garden until it was time to dress for dinner, and
+      Cornish saw enough to convince him that Mr. Wade was fully occupied
+      between banking hours in his capacity as Marguerite's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That young lady came down as the bell rang, in a white dress as fresh and
+      girlish as herself, and during the meal, which was long and somewhat
+      solemn, entertained the guest with considerable liveliness. It was only
+      after she had left them to their wine, over which the banker loved to
+      linger in the old-fashioned way that Mr. Wade put on his grave financial
+      air. He fingered his glass thoughtfully, as if choosing, not a subject of
+      conversation, but a suitable way of approaching a premeditated question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not recollect your mother?&rdquo; he said suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she died when I was two years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade nodded, and slowly sipped his port. &ldquo;Queer thing is,&rdquo; he said,
+      after a pause and looking towards the door, &ldquo;that that child is
+      startlingly like what your mother used to be at the age of eighteen, when
+      I first knew her. Perhaps it is only my imagination&mdash;not that I have
+      much of that. Perhaps all girls are alike at that age&mdash;a sort of
+      freshness and an optimism that positively take one's breath away. At any
+      rate, she reminds me of your mother.&rdquo; He broke off, and looked at Cornish
+      with his slow and rather ponderous smile. His attitude towards the world
+      was indeed one of conscious ponderosity. He did not attempt to understand
+      the lighter side of life, but took it seriously as a work-a-day matter. &ldquo;I
+      was once in love with your mother,&rdquo; he stated squarely. &ldquo;But circumstances
+      were against us. You see, your father was a lord's younger brother, and
+      that made a great difference in Clapham in those days. I felt it a good
+      deal at the time, but I of course got over it years and years ago. No
+      sentiment about me, Tony. Sentiment and seventeen stone won't balance, you
+      know.&rdquo; The great man slowly drew the decanter towards him. &ldquo;She got a
+      better husband in your father&mdash;a clever, bright chap&mdash;and I was
+      best man, I recollect. It was about that time&mdash;about your age I was&mdash;that
+      I took seriously to my work. Before, I had been a little wild. And that
+      interest has lasted me right up to the present time. Take my word for it,
+      Tony, the greatest interest in life would be money-making&mdash;if one
+      only knew what to do with the money afterwards.&rdquo; The banker had been
+      eating a biscuit, and he now swept the crumbs together with his little
+      finger from all sides in a lessening circle until they formed a heap upon
+      the white tablecloth. &ldquo;It accumulates,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;accumulates,
+      accumulates. And, after all, one can only eat and drink the best that are
+      to be obtained, and the best costs so little&mdash;a mere drop in the
+      ocean.&rdquo; He handed Tony the decanter as he spoke. &ldquo;Then I married
+      Marguerite's mother, some years afterwards, when I was a middle-aged man.
+      She was the only daughter of&mdash;the bank, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And that seemed to be all that there was to be said about Marguerite's
+      mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish nodded in his quick, sympathetic way. Mr. Wade had told him
+      none of this before, but it was to be presumed that he had heard at least
+      part of it from other sources. His manner now indicated that he was
+      interested, but he did not ask his companion to say one word more than he
+      felt disposed to utter. It is probable that he knew these to be no idle
+      after-dinner words, spoken without premeditation, out of a full heart; for
+      Mr. Wade was not, as he had boasted, a person of sentiment, but a plain,
+      straightforward business man, who, if he had no meaning to convey, said
+      nothing. And in this respect it is a pity that more are not like him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have always been pretty good friends, you and I,&rdquo; continued the
+      banker, &ldquo;though I know I am not exactly your sort. I am distinctly City;
+      you are as distinctly West End. But during your minority, and when we
+      settled up accounts on your coming of age, and since then, we have always
+      hit it off pretty well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish, moving his feet impatiently under the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no mistaking the aim of all this, and Mr. Wade was too British
+      in his habits to beat about the bush much longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not mind telling you that I have got you down in my will,&rdquo; said the
+      banker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish bit his lip and frowned at his wine-glass. And it is possible that
+      the man of no sentiment understood his silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have frequently disbelieved what I have heard of you,&rdquo; went on the
+      elder man. &ldquo;You have, doubtless, enemies&mdash;as all men have&mdash;and
+      you have been a trifle reckless, perhaps, of what the world might say. If
+      you will allow me to say so, I think none the worse of you for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade pushed the decanter across the table, and when Cornish had filled
+      his glass, drew it back towards himself. It is wonderful what resource
+      there is in half a glass of wine, if merely to examine it when it is hard
+      to look elsewhere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember, six months ago, I spoke to you of a personal matter,&rdquo; said
+      the banker. &ldquo;I asked you if you had thoughts of marrying, and suggested
+      something in the nature of a partnership if that would facilitate your
+      plans in any way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not the sort of offer one is likely to forget,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I asked you if&mdash;well, if it was Joan Ferriby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And I answered that it was not Joan Ferriby. That was mere gossip,
+      of which we are both aware, and for which neither of us cares a pin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it comes to this,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, drawing lines on the tablecloth
+      with his dessert knife as if it were a balance-sheet, and he was casting
+      the final totals there. &ldquo;You are a man of the world; you are clever; you
+      are like your father before you, in that you have something that women
+      care about. Heaven only knows what it is, for I don't!&rdquo; He paused, and
+      looked at his companion as if seeking that intangible something. Then he
+      jerked his head towards the drawing-room, where Marguerite could be dimly
+      heard playing an air from the latest comic opera with a fine contempt for
+      accidentals. &ldquo;That child,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;knows no more about life than a
+      sparrow. A man like myself&mdash;seventeen stone&mdash;may have to balance
+      his books at any moment. You have a clear field; for you may take my word
+      for it that you will be the first in it. My own experience of life has
+      been mostly financial, but I am pretty certain that the first man a woman
+      cares for is the man she cares for all along, though she may never see him
+      again. I don't hold it out as an inducement, but there is no reason why
+      you should not know that she will have a hundred and fifty thousand pounds&mdash;not
+      when I am dead, but on the day she marries.&rdquo; Mr. Wade paused, and took a
+      sip of his most excellent port. &ldquo;Do not hurry,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Take your time.
+      Think about it carefully&mdash;unless you have already thought about it,
+      and can say yes or no now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade bent forward heavily, with one arm on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Which is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no,&rdquo; answered Cornish, simply. The banker passed his table-napkin
+      across his lips, paused for a moment, and then rose with, as was his
+      hospitable custom, his hand upon the sherry decanter. &ldquo;Then let us go into
+      the drawing-room,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Heureux celui qui n'est forcée de sacrifier personne à son
+     devoir.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; said Marguerite the next morning, as she and Cornish rode
+      quietly along the sandy roads, beneath the shade of the pines&mdash;&ldquo;you
+      know, papa is such a jolly, simple old dear&mdash;he doesn't understand
+      women in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you call yourself a woman nowadays?&rdquo; inquired Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet. Bet those grey hairs of yours if you like. I see them! All down
+      one side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are all down both sides and on the top as well&mdash;my good&mdash;woman.
+      How does your father fail to understand you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to begin with, he thinks it necessary to have Miss Williams, to
+      housekeep and chaperon, and to do oddments generally&mdash;as if I
+      couldn't run the show myself. You haven't seen Miss Williams&mdash;oh,
+      crikey! She has gone to Cheltenham for a holiday, for which you may thank
+      your eternal stars. She is just the sort of person who <i>would</i> go to
+      Cheltenham. Then papa is desperately keen about my marrying. He keeps
+      trotting likely <i>partis</i> down here to dine and sleep&mdash;that's why
+      you are here, I haven't a shadow of a doubt. None of the <i>partis</i>
+      have passed muster yet. Poor old thing, he thinks I do not see through his
+      little schemes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed, and glanced at Marguerite under the shade of his straw
+      hat, wondering, as men have probably wondered since the ages began, how it
+      is that women seem to begin life with as great a knowledge of the world as
+      we manage to acquire towards the end of our experience. Marguerite made
+      her statements with a certain careless <i>aplomb</i>, and these were
+      usually within measurable distance of the fact, whereas a youth her age
+      and ten years older, if he be of a didactic turn, will hold forth upon
+      life and human nature with an ignorance of both which is positively
+      appalling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, I don't want to marry,&rdquo; said Marguerite, suddenly returning to her
+      younger and more earnest manner. &ldquo;What is the good of marrying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, indeed,&rdquo; echoed Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, if papa tackles you&mdash;about me, I mean&mdash;when he has
+      done the <i>Times</i>&mdash;he won't say anything before, the <i>Times</i>
+      being the first object in papa's existence, and yours very truly the
+      second&mdash;just you choke him off&mdash;won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promise faithfully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right. Now tell me&mdash;is my hat on one side?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish assured her that her hat was straight, and then they talked of
+      other things, until they came to a ditch suitable for some jumping
+      lessons, which he had promised to give her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was bewilderingly changeable, at one moment childlike, and in the next
+      very wise&mdash;now a heedless girl, and a moment later a keen woman of
+      the world&mdash;appearing to know more of that abode of evil than she well
+      could. Her colour came and went&mdash;her very eyes seemed to change.
+      Cornish thought of this open field which Marguerite's father had offered,
+      and perhaps he thought of the hundred and fifty thousand pounds that lay
+      beneath so bright a surface.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On returning to &ldquo;The Brambles,&rdquo; they found Mr. Wade reading the <i>Times</i>
+      in the glass-covered veranda of that eligible suburban mansion. It being a
+      Saturday, the great banker was taking a holiday, and Cornish had arranged
+      not to return to town until midday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come here,&rdquo; shouted Mr. Wade, &ldquo;and have a cigar while you read the
+      paper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And remember,&rdquo; added Marguerite, slim and girlish in her riding-habit;
+      &ldquo;choke him off!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood on the door-step, looking over her shoulder, and nodded at
+      Cornish, her fresh lips tilted at the corner by a smile full of gaiety and
+      mysticism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Wade was always grave&mdash;was clad in gravity and a frock-coat
+      all his waking moments&mdash;and Cornish took up the newspaper carelessly.
+      He stretched out his legs and lighted a cigar. Then he leisurely turned to
+      the column indicated by his companion. It was headed, &ldquo;Crisis in the Paper
+      Trade: the Malgamite Corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Tony Cornish did not raise his eyes from the printed sheet for a full
+      ten minutes. When at length he looked up, he found Mr. Wade watching him,
+      placid and patient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't make head or tail of it,&rdquo; he said, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make both head and tail of it for you,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, who in his
+      own world had a certain reputation for plain speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was even said that this stout banker could tell a man to his face that
+      he was a scoundrel with a cooler nerve than any in Lombard Street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has occurred,&rdquo; he said, slowly folding the advertisement sheet of
+      the <i>Times</i>, &ldquo;is only what has been foreseen for a long time. The
+      world has been degenerating into a maudlin state of sentiment for some
+      years. The East End began it; a thousand sentimental charities have
+      fostered the movement. Now, I am a plain man&mdash;a City man, Tony, to
+      the tips of my toes.&rdquo; And he stuck out a large square-toed foot and looked
+      contemplatively at it. &ldquo;Half of your precious charities&mdash;the
+      societies that you and Joan Ferriby, and, if you will allow me to say so,
+      that ass Ferriby, are mixed up in&mdash;are not fraudulent, but they are
+      pretty near it. Some people who have no right to it are putting other
+      people's money into their pockets. It is the money of fools&mdash;a fool
+      and his money are soon parted, you know&mdash;but that does not make
+      matters any better. The fools do not always part with their money for the
+      right reason; but that also is of small importance. It is not our business
+      if some of them do it because they like to see their names printed under
+      the names of the royal and the great&mdash;if others do it for the mere
+      satisfaction of being life&mdash;governors of this and that institution&mdash;if
+      others, again, head the county lists because they represent a part of that
+      county in Parliament&mdash;if the large majority give of their surplus to
+      charities because they are dimly aware that they are no better than they
+      should be, and wish to take shares in a concern that will pay a dividend
+      in the hereafter. They know that they cannot take their money out of this
+      world with them, so they think they had better invest some of it in what
+      they vaguely understand to be a great limited company, with the bishops on
+      the board and&mdash;I say it with all reverence&mdash;the Almighty in the
+      chair. I would not say this to the first-comer because it would not be
+      well received, and it is not fashionable to treat Charity from a
+      common-sense point of view. It is fashionable to send a cheque to this and
+      that charity&mdash;feeling that it is charity, and therefore will be all
+      right, and that the cheque will be duly placed on the credit side of the
+      drawer's account in the heavenly books, however it may be foolishly spent
+      or fraudulently appropriated by the payee on earth. Half a dozen of the
+      fashionable charities are rotten, but we have not had a thorough-going
+      swindle up to this time. We have been waiting for it ... in Lombard
+      Street. It is there....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused, and tapped the printed column of the <i>Times</i> with a fat
+      and inexorable forefinger. He was, it must be remembered, a mere banker&mdash;a
+      person in the City, where honesty is esteemed above the finer qualities of
+      charity and beneficence, where soul and sentiment are so little known that
+      he who of his charity giveth away another's money is held accountable for
+      his manner of spending it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is there, ... and you have the honour of being mixed up in it,&rdquo; said
+      Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish took up the paper, and looked at the printed words with a vague
+      surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no knowing,&rdquo; went on the banker, &ldquo;how the world will take it. It
+      is one of our greatest financial difficulties that there is never any
+      knowing how the world will take anything. Of course, we in the City are
+      plain-going men, who have no handles to our names and no time for the
+      fashionable fads. We are only respectable, and we cannot afford to be
+      mixed up in such a scheme as your malgamite business.&rdquo; Mr. Wade glanced at
+      Cornish and paused a moment. He was a stolid Englishman, who had received
+      punishment in his time, and could hit hard when he deemed that hard
+      hitting was merciful. &ldquo;It has only been a question of time. The credulity
+      of the public is such that, sooner or later, a bogus charity must
+      assuredly have followed in the wake of the thousand bogus companies that
+      exist to-day. I only wonder that it has not come sooner. You and Ferriby
+      and, of course, the women have been swindled, my dear Tony&mdash;that is
+      the head and the tail of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed gaily. &ldquo;I dare say we have,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;But I will be
+      hanged if I see what it all means, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It may mean ruin to those who have anything to lose,&rdquo; explained Mr. Wade,
+      calmly. &ldquo;The whole thing has been cleverly planned&mdash;one of the
+      cleverest things of recent years, and the man who thought it out had the
+      makings of a great financier in him. What he wanted to do was to get the
+      malgamite industry into his own hands. If he had formed a company and gone
+      about it in a straightforward manner, the paper-makers of the whole world
+      would have risen like one man and smashed him. Instead of that, he moved
+      with the times, and ran the thing as a charity&mdash;a fashionable
+      amusement, in fact. The malgamite industry is neither better nor worse
+      than the other dangerous trades, and no man need go into it unless he
+      likes. But the man who started this thing&mdash;whoever he may be&mdash;supplied
+      that picturesqueness without which the public cannot be moved&mdash;and
+      lo! We have an army of martyrs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade paused and jerked the ash from his cigar. He glanced at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one suspected that there was anything wrong. It was plausibly put
+      forth, and Ferriby ... did his best for it. Then the money began to come
+      in, and once money begins to come in for a popular charity the difficulty
+      is to stop it. I suppose it is still coming in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish. &ldquo;It is still coming in, and nobody is trying to stop
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade laughed in his throat, as fat men do. &ldquo;And,&rdquo; he cried, sitting
+      upright and banging his heavy fist down on the arm of his chair&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      there are millions in your malgamite works at the Hague&mdash;millions. If
+      it were only honest it would be the finest monopoly the world has ever
+      seen&mdash;for two years, but no longer. At the end of that period the
+      paper-makers will have had time to combine and make their own stuff&mdash;then
+      they'll smash you. But during those two years all the makers in the world
+      will have to buy your malgamite at the price you chose to put upon it.
+      They have their forward contracts to fulfil&mdash;government contracts,
+      Indian contracts, newspaper contracts. Thousands and thousands of tons of
+      paper will have to be manufactured at a loss every week during the next
+      two years, or they'll have to shut up their mills. Now do you see where
+      you are?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;I see where I am, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His face was drawn and his eyes hard, like those of a man facing ruin. And
+      that which was written on his face was an old story, so old that some may
+      not think it worth the telling; for he had found out (as all who are
+      fortunate will, sooner or later, discover) that success or failure, riches
+      or poverty, greatness or obscurity, are but small things in a man's life.
+      Mr. Wade looked at his companion with a sort of wonder in his shrewd old
+      face. He had seen ruined men before now&mdash;he had seen criminals
+      convicted of their wrong-doing&mdash;he had seen old and young in
+      adversity, and, what is more dangerous still, in prosperity&mdash;but he
+      had never seen a young face grow old in the twinkling of an eye. The
+      banker was only thinking of this matter as a financial crisis, in which
+      his great skill made him take a master's delight. There must inevitably
+      come a great crash, and Mr. Wade's interest was aroused. Cornish was
+      realizing that the crash would of a certainty fall between himself and
+      Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This thing,&rdquo; continued the banker, judicially, &ldquo;has not evolved itself.
+      It is not the result of a singular chain of circumstances. It is the
+      deliberate and careful work of one man's brain. This sort of speculative
+      gambling comes to us from America. It was in America that the first cotton
+      corner was conceived. That is what the paper means when it plainly calls
+      it the malgamite corner. Now, what I want to know is this&mdash;who has
+      worked this thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Percy Roden,&rdquo; answered Cornish, thoughtfully. &ldquo;It is Roden's corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then Roden's a clever fellow,&rdquo; said the great financier. &ldquo;The sort of man
+      who will die a millionaire or a felon&mdash;there is no medium for that
+      sort. He has conducted the thing with consummate skill&mdash;has not made
+      a mistake yet. For I have watched him. He began well, by saying just
+      enough and not too much. He went abroad, but not too far abroad. He
+      avoided a suspicious remoteness. Then he bided his time with a fine
+      patience, and at the right moment converted it quietly into a company&mdash;with
+      a capital subscribed by the charitable&mdash;a splendid piece of audacity.
+      I saw the announcement in the newspaper, neatly worded, and issued at the
+      precise moment when the public interest was beginning to wane, and before
+      the thing was forgotten. People read it, and having found a new plaything&mdash;bicycles,
+      I suppose&mdash;did not care two pins what became of the malgamite scheme,
+      and yet they were not left in a position to be able to say that they had
+      never heard that the thing had been turned into a company.&rdquo; The banker
+      rubbed his large soft hands together with a grim appreciation of this
+      misapplied skill, which so few could recognize at its full value.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; he continued, in his deliberate, practical way, as if in the course
+      of his experience he had never yet met a difficulty which could not be
+      overcome, &ldquo;it is more our concern to think about the future. The
+      difficulty you are in would be bad enough in itself&mdash;it is made a
+      hundred times worse by the fact that you have a man like Roden, with all
+      the trumps in his hand, waiting for you to throw the first card. Of
+      course, I know no details yet, but I soon shall. What seems complicated to
+      you may appear simple enough to me. I am going to stand by you&mdash;understand
+      that, Tony. Through thick and thin. But I am going to stand behind you. I
+      can hit harder from there. And this is just one of those affairs with
+      which my name must not be associated. So far as I can judge at present,
+      there seems to be only one course open to you, and that is to abandon the
+      whole affair as quietly and expeditiously as possible, to drop malgamite
+      and the hope of benefiting the malgamite workers once and for all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony was looking at his watch. It was, it appeared, time for him to go if
+      he wanted to catch his train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said, rising; &ldquo;I will be d&mdash;&mdash;d if I do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade looked at him curiously, as one may look at a sleeper who for no
+      apparent reason suddenly wakes and stretches himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said slowly, and that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. UNSOUND.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Be wiser than other people if you can; but do not tell them
+     so.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      If Major White was not a man of quick comprehension, he was, at all
+      events, honest in his density. He never said that he understood when he
+      did not do so. When he received a telegram in barracks at Dover to come up
+      to London the next day and meet Cornish at his club at one o'clock, the
+      major merely said that he was in a state of condemnation, and fixing his
+      glass very carefully into his more surprised eye, studied the thin pink
+      paper as if it were a unique and interesting proof of the advance of the
+      human race. In truth, Major White never sent telegrams, and rarely
+      received them. He blew out his cheeks and said a second time that he was
+      damned. Then he threw the telegram into a waste-paper basket, which was
+      rarely put to so legitimate a use; for the major never wrote letters if he
+      could help it, and received so few that they hardly kept him supplied in
+      pipe-lights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He apparently had no intention of replying to Cornish's telegram, arguing
+      very philosophically in his mind that he would go if he could, and if he
+      could not, it would not matter very much. A method of contemplating life,
+      as a picture with a perspective to it, which may be highly recommended to
+      fussy people who herald their paltry little comings and goings by a number
+      of unnecessary communications.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without, therefore, attempting a surmise as to the meaning of this
+      summons, White took a morning train to London, and solemnly reported
+      himself to the hall porter of a club in St. James's Street as the
+      well-dressed throng was leisurely returning from church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish told me to come and have lunch with him,&rdquo; he said, in his
+      usual bald style, leaving explanations and superfluous questions to such
+      as had time for luxuries of that description.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was taken charge of by a button-boy, whose head reached the major's
+      lowest waistcoat button, was deprived of his hat and stick, and
+      practically commanded to wash his hands, to all of which he submitted
+      under stolid and silent protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he was led upstairs, refusing absolutely to hurry, although urged
+      most strongly thereto by the boy's example and manner of pausing a few
+      steps higher up and looking back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the major, when he had heard Cornish's story across the table,
+      and during the consumption of a perfectly astonishing luncheon&mdash;&ldquo;yes;
+      half the trouble in this world comes from the incapacity of the ordinary
+      human being to mind his own business.&rdquo; He operated on a creaming Camembert
+      cheese with much thoughtfulness, and then spoke again. &ldquo;I should like you
+      to tell me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what a couple of idiots like us have to do with
+      these confounded malgamiters. We do not know anything about industry or
+      workmen&mdash;or work, so far as that goes&rdquo;&mdash;he paused and looked
+      severely across the table&mdash;&ldquo;especially you,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Which was strictly true; for Tony Cornish was and always had been a
+      graceful idler. He was one of those unfortunate men who possess
+      influential relatives, than which there are few heavier handicaps in that
+      game of life, where if there be any real scoring to be done, it must be
+      compassed off one's own bat. To follow out the same inexpensive simile,
+      influential relatives may get a man into a crack club, but they cannot
+      elect him to the first eleven. So Tony Cornish, who had never done
+      anything, but had waited vaguely for something to turn up that might be
+      worth his while to seize, had no answer ready, and only laughed gaily in
+      his friend's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first thing we must do,&rdquo; he said, very wisely leaving the past to
+      take care of itself, &ldquo;is to get old Ferriby out of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cos he is a lord?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Partly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cos he is an ass?&rdquo; suggested White, as a plausible alternative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Partly; but chiefly because he is not the sort of man we want if there is
+      going to be a fight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A momentary light gleamed in the major's eye, but it immediately gave
+      place to a placid interest in the Camembert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If there is going to be a fight,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I'm on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In which trivial remark the major explained his whole life and mental
+      attitude. And if the world only listened, instead of thinking what effect
+      it is creating and what it is going to say next, it would catch men thus
+      giving themselves away in their daily talk from morning till night. For
+      Major White had always been &ldquo;on&rdquo; when there was fighting. By dint of
+      exchanging and volunteering and asking, and generally bothering people in
+      a thick-skinned, dull way, he always managed to get to the front, where
+      his competitors&mdash;the handful of modern knights-errant who mean to
+      make a career in the army, and inevitably succeed&mdash;were not afraid of
+      him, and laughingly liked him. And the barrack-room balladists had
+      discovered that White rhymes with Fight. And lo! Another man had made a
+      name for himself in a world that is already too full of names, so that in
+      the paths of Fame the great must necessarily fall against each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon, in the smaller smoking-room, where they were alone,
+      Cornish explained the situation at greater length to Major White, who did
+      not even pretend to understand it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All I can make of it is that that loose-shouldered chap Roden is a
+      scoundrel,&rdquo; he said bluntly, from behind a great cigar, &ldquo;and wants
+      thumping. Now, if there's anything in that line&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but you must not tell him so,&rdquo; interrupted Cornish. &ldquo;I wish to
+      goodness I could make you understand that cunning can only be met by
+      cunning, not by thumps, in these degenerate days. Old Wade has taken us by
+      the hand, as I tell you. They come to town, by the way, to-morrow, and
+      will be in Eaton Square for the rest of the season. He says that it is his
+      business to meet the low cunning of the small solicitors and the noble
+      army of company promoters, and it seems that he knows exactly what to do.
+      At any rate, it is not expedient to thump Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White shrugged his shoulders with much silent wisdom. He believed,
+      it appeared, in thumps in face of any evidence in favour of milder
+      methods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deuced sorry for that girl,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was lighting a cigarette. &ldquo;What girl?&rdquo; he asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Roden, chap's sister. She knows her brother is a dark horse, but she
+      wouldn't admit it, not if you were to kill her for it. Women&rdquo;&mdash;the
+      major paused in his great wisdom&mdash;&ldquo;women are a rum lot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which, assuredly, no one is prepared to deny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish glanced at his companion through the cigarette smoke, and said
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; continued the major, &ldquo;I am at your service. Let us have the
+      orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;is Monday, and therefore the Ferribys will
+      be at home. You and I are to go to Cambridge Terrace about four o'clock to
+      see my uncle. We will scare him out of the Malgamite business. Then we
+      will go upstairs and settle matters with Joan. Wade and Marguerite will
+      drop in about half-past four. Joan and Marguerite see a good deal of each
+      other, you know. If we have any difficulty with my uncle, Wade will give
+      him the <i>coup de grâce</i>, you understand. His word will have more
+      weight than ours We shall then settle on a plan of campaign, and clear out
+      of my aunt's drawing-room before the crowd comes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will do the talking,&rdquo; stipulated Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes; I will do the talking. And now I must be off. I have a lot of
+      calls to pay, and it is getting late. You will find me here to-morrow
+      afternoon at a quarter to four.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Major White took his departure, to appear again the next day in
+      good time, placid and debonair&mdash;as he had appeared when called upon
+      in various parts of the world, where things were stirring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They took a hansom, for the afternoon was showery, and drove through the
+      crowded streets. Even Cambridge Terrace, usually a quiet thoroughfare, was
+      astir with traffic, for it was the height of the season and a levee day.
+      As the cab swung round into Cambridge Terrace, White suddenly pushed his
+      stick up through the trap-door in the roof of the vehicle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ninety-nine,&rdquo; he shouted to the driver in his great voice. &ldquo;Not nine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he threw himself back against the dingy blue cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned and looked at him in surprise. &ldquo;Gone off your head?&rdquo; he
+      inquired. &ldquo;It is nine&mdash;you know that well enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered White, &ldquo;I know that, my good soul; but you could not see
+      the door as I could when we came round the corner. Roden and Von Holzen
+      are on the steps, coming out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Roden and Von Holzen in England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not only in England,&rdquo; said White, placidly, &ldquo;but in Cambridge Terrace.
+      And &ldquo;&mdash;he paused, seeking a suitable remark among his small selection
+      of conversational remnants&mdash;&ldquo;and the fat is in the fire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cab had now stopped at the door of number ninety-nine. And if Roden or
+      Von Holzen, walking leisurely down Cambridge Terrace, had turned during
+      the next few moments, they would have seen a stationary hansom cab, with a
+      large round face&mdash;mildly surprised, like a pink harvest moon&mdash;rising
+      cautiously over the roof of it, watching them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the coast was clear, Cornish and White walked back to number nine.
+      Lord Ferriby was at home, and they were ushered into his study, an
+      apartment which, like many other things appertaining to his lordship, was
+      calculated to convey an erroneous impression. There were books upon the
+      tables&mdash;the lives of great and good men. Pamphlets relating to
+      charitable matters, missionary matters, and a thousand schemes for the
+      amelioration of the human lot here and hereafter, lay about in profusion.
+      This was obviously the den of a great philanthropist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship presently appeared, carrying a number of voting papers, which
+      he threw carelessly on the table. He was, it seemed, a subscriber to many
+      institutions for the blind, the maimed, and the halt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I generally get through my work in the morning, but I find
+      myself behindhand to-day. It is wonderful,&rdquo; he added, directing his
+      conversation and his benevolent gaze towards White, &ldquo;how busy an idle man
+      may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;M&mdash;m&mdash;yes!&rdquo; answered the major, with his stolid stare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish broke what threatened to be an awkward silence by referring at
+      once to the subject in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;that this Malgamite scheme is not what we took it
+      to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby looked surprised and slightly scandalized. Could it be
+      possible for a fashionable charity to be anything but what it appeared to
+      be? In his eyes, wandering from one face to the other, there lurked the
+      question as to whether they had seen Roden and Von Holzen quit his door a
+      minute earlier. But no reference was made to those two gentlemen, and Lord
+      Ferriby, who, as a chairman of many boards, was a master of the art of
+      conciliation and the decent closing of both eyes to unsightly facts,
+      received Cornish's suggestion with a polite and avuncular pooh-pooh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must not,&rdquo; he said soothingly, &ldquo;allow our judgment to be hastily
+      affected by the ill-considered statements of the&mdash;er&mdash;newspapers.
+      Such statements, my dear Anthony&mdash;and you, Major White&mdash;are, I
+      may tell you, only what we, as the pioneers of a great movement, must be
+      prepared to expect. I saw the article in the <i>Times</i> to which you
+      refer&mdash;indeed, I read it most carefully, as, in my capacity of
+      chairman of this&mdash;eh&mdash;char&mdash;that is to say, company, I was
+      called upon to do. And I formed the opinion that the mind of the writer
+      was&mdash;eh&mdash;warped.&rdquo; Lord Ferriby smiled sadly, and gave a final
+      wave of the hand, as if to indicate that the whole matter lay in a
+      nutshell, and that nutshell under his lordship's heel. &ldquo;Warped or not,&rdquo;
+       answered Cornish, &ldquo;the man says that we have formed ourselves into a
+      company, which company is bound to make huge profits, and those profits
+      are naturally assumed to find their way into our pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Anthony,&rdquo; replied the chairman, with a laugh which was almost a
+      cackle, &ldquo;the labourer is worthy of his hire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which seems likely to become the <i>dernier cri</i> of the overpaid
+      throughout all the ages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even if we contradict the statement,&rdquo; pursued Cornish, with a sudden
+      coldness in his manner, &ldquo;the contradiction will probably fail to reach
+      many of the readers of this article, and as matters at present stand, I do
+      not see that we are in a position to contradict.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;My dear Anthony,&rdquo; answered Lord Ferriby, turning over his papers with
+a preoccupied air, as if the question under discussion only called for
+a small share of his attention&mdash;&ldquo;my dear Anthony, the money was
+subscribed for the amelioration of the lot of the malgamite workers. We
+have not only ameliorated their lot, but we have elevated them morally
+and physically. We have far exceeded our promises, and the subscribers,
+ who, after all, take a small interest in the matter, have every reason
+to be satisfied that their money has been applied to the purpose for
+which they intended it. They were kind enough to intrust us with the
+financial arrangements. The concern is a private one, and it is the
+business of no one&mdash;not even of the <i>Times</i>&mdash;to inquire into the method
+which we think well to adopt for the administration of the Malgamite
+Fund. If the subscribers had no confidence in us, they surely would not
+have given the management unreservedly into our hands.&rdquo; Lord Ferriby
+spread out the limbs in question with an easy laugh. Has not a greater
+than any of us said that a man &ldquo;may smile, and smile, and be a
+villain&rdquo;? A silence followed, which was almost, but not quite, broken
+by the major, who took his glass from his eye, examined it very
+carefully, as if wondering how it had been made, and, replacing it with
+a deep sigh, sat staring at the opposite wall.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are not disposed to withdraw your name from the concern?&rdquo; asked
+      Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most certainly not, my dear Anthony. What have the malgamiters done that
+      I should, so to speak, abandon them at the first difficulty which has
+      presented itself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what about the profits?&rdquo; inquired Cornish, bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Roden is our paid secretary. He understands the financial situation,
+      which is rather a complicated one. We may, I think, leave such details to
+      him. And if I may suggest it (I may perhaps rightly lay claim to a
+      somewhat larger experience in charitable finances than either of you), I
+      should recommend a strict reticence on this matter. We are not called upon
+      to answer idle questions, I think. And if&mdash;well&mdash;if the labourer
+      is found worthy of his hire ... buy yourself a new hat, my dear Anthony.
+      Buy yourself a new hat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish rose, and looked at his watch. &ldquo;I wonder if Joan will give us a
+      cup of tea,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We might, at all events, go up and try.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly&mdash;certainly. And I will follow when I have finished my
+      work. And do not give the matter another thought&mdash;either of you&mdash;eh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's been got at,&rdquo; said Major White to his companion as they walked
+      upstairs together, as if Lord Ferriby were a jockey or some common person
+      of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. PLAIN SPEAKING.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Il est rare que la tête des rois soit faite à la mesure de
+     leur couronne.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I want is something to eat,&rdquo; Miss Marguerite Wade confided in an
+      undertone to Tony Cornish, a few minutes later in Lady Ferriby's
+      drawing-room. She said this with a little glance of amusement, as Cornish
+      stood before her with two plates of biscuits, which certainly did not
+      promise much sustenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;you have come to the wrong house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite kept him waiting while she arranged biscuits in her saucer. He
+      set the plates aside, and returned to her in answer to her tacit order,
+      conveyed by laying one hand on a vacant chair by her side. Marguerite was
+      in the midst of that brief period of a woman's life wherein she dares to
+      state quite clearly what she wants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you marry Joan?&rdquo; she asked, eating a biscuit with a fine young
+      optimism, which almost implied that things sometimes taste as nice as they
+      look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you marry Major White?&rdquo; retorted Tony; and Marguerite turned
+      and looked at him gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For a man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that wasn't so dusty. So few men have any eyes in
+      their head, you know.&rdquo; And she thoughtfully finished the biscuits. &ldquo;I
+      think I'll go back to the bread-and-butter,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It's the last time
+      Lady Ferriby will ask me to stay to tea, so I may as well be hanged for&mdash;three
+      pence as three farthings. And I think I will be more careful with you in
+      the future. For a man, you are rather sharp.&rdquo; And she looked at him
+      doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you attain my age,&rdquo; replied Tony, &ldquo;you will have arrived at the
+      conclusion that the whole world is sharper than one took it to be. It does
+      not do to think that the world is blind. It is better not to care whether
+      it sees or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Women cannot afford to do that,&rdquo; returned Marguerite, with the
+      accumulated wisdom of nearly a score of years. &ldquo;Oh, hang!&rdquo; she added, a
+      moment later, under her breath, as she perceived Joan and Major White
+      coming towards them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a letter for you,&rdquo; said Joan, &ldquo;enclosed in one I received this
+      morning from Mrs. Vansittart at The Hague. She is not coming to the
+      Harberdashers' Assistants' Ball, and this is, I suppose, in answer to the
+      card you sent her. She explains that she did not know your address.&rdquo; And
+      Joan looked at him with a doubting glance for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish took the letter, but did not ask permission to open it. He held it
+      in his hand, and asked Joan a question. &ldquo;Did you see Saturday's Times?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of course I did,&rdquo; she answered earnestly; &ldquo;and of course, if it is
+      true you will all wash your hands of the whole affair, I suppose. I was
+      talking to Mr. Wade about it. He, however, placed both sides of the
+      question before me in about ten words, and left me to take my choice&mdash;which
+      I am incompetent to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Papa doesn't understand women,&rdquo; put in Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Understands money, though,&rdquo; retorted Major White, looking at her in
+      somewhat severe astonishment, as if he had hitherto been unaware that she
+      could speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite took the rebuff with demurely closed lips, a probable
+      indication that the only retort she could think of was hardly fit for
+      enunciation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cornish drifted out of the conversation, and presently moved away to
+      the window, where he took the opportunity of opening Mrs. Vansittart's
+      letter. Mr. Wade, near at hand, was explaining good-naturedly to Lady
+      Ferriby that, with the best will in the world, five per cent, and perfect
+      safety are not to be obtained nowadays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MON AMI&rdquo; (wrote Mrs. Vansittart in French), &ldquo;I take a daily promenade
+      after coffee in the Oude Weg. I sit on the bench where you sat, and more
+      often than not I see the sight that you saw. I am not a sentimental woman,
+      but, after all, one has a heart, and this is a pitiful affair. Also, I
+      have obtained from a reliable source the information that the new system
+      of manufacture is more deadly than the old, which I have long suspected,
+      and which, I believe, has passed through your mind as well. You and I went
+      into this thing without <i>le bon motif</i>; but Providence is dealing out
+      fresh hands, and you, at all events, hold cards that call for careful and
+      bold playing. My friend, throw your Haberdashers over the wall and act
+      without delay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;E. V.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      She enclosed a formal refusal of the invitation to the Haberdashers'
+      Assistants' Ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White was not a talkative man, and towards Joan in particular his
+      attitude was one of silent wonder. In preference to talking to her, he
+      preferred to stand a little way off and look at her. And if, at these
+      moments, the keen observer could detect any glimmer of expression on his
+      face, that glimmer seemed to express abject abasement before a creation
+      that could produce anything so puzzling, so interesting, so absolutely
+      beautiful&mdash;as Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish, seeing White engaged in his favourite pastime, took him by the
+      arm and led him to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and then burn it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; Joan was saying to Marguerite, as he joined them, &ldquo;there are,
+      as your father says, two sides to the question. If papa and Tony and Major
+      White withdraw their names and abandon the poor malgamiters now, there
+      will be no help for the miserable wretches. They will all drift back to
+      the cheaper and more poisonous way of making malgamite. And such a thing
+      would be a blot upon our civilization&mdash;wouldn't it, Tony?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite nodded an airy acquiescence. She was watching Major White&mdash;that
+      great strategist&mdash;tear up Mrs. Vansittart's letter and throw it into
+      the fire, with a deliberate non-concealment which was perhaps superior to
+      any subterfuge. The major joined the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the view that I take of it,&rdquo; answered Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you say?&rdquo; asked Joan, turning upon the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? Oh, nothing!&rdquo; replied that soldier, with perfect truthfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what are you going to do?&rdquo; asked Joan, who was practical, and, like
+      many practical people, rather given to hasty action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are going to stick to the malgamiters,&rdquo; replied Tony, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Through thick and thin?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, buttoning her glove.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;through thick and thin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both girls looked at Major White, who stolidly returned their gaze, and
+      appeared as usual to have no remark to offer. He was saved, indeed, from
+      all effort in that direction by the advent of Lord Ferriby, who entered
+      the room with more than his usual importance. He carried an open letter in
+      his hand, and seemed by his manner to demand the instant attention of the
+      whole party. There are some men and a few women who live for the
+      multitude, and are not content with the attention of one or two persons
+      only. And surely these have their reward, for the attention of the
+      multitude, however pleasant it may be while it lasts, is singularly
+      short-lived, and there is nothing more pitiful to watch than the effort to
+      catch it when it has wandered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh&mdash;er,&rdquo; began his lordship, and everybody paused to listen. &ldquo;I have
+      here a letter from our clerk at the Malgamite office in Great George
+      Street. It appears that there are a number of persons there&mdash;paper-makers,
+      I understand&mdash;who insist upon seeing us, and refuse to leave the
+      premises until they have done so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby's manner indicated quite clearly his pity for these persons
+      who had proved themselves capable of such a shocking breach of good
+      manners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One hardly knows what to do,&rdquo; he said, not meaning, of course, that his
+      words should be taken <i>au pied de la lettre</i>. His hearers, he
+      obviously felt assured, knew him better than to imagine that he was really
+      at a loss. &ldquo;It is difficult to deal with&mdash;er&mdash;persons of this
+      description. What do you propose that we should do?&rdquo; he inquired, turning,
+      as if by instinct, to Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and see them,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Anthony, such a crisis should be dealt with by Mr. Roden,
+      whom one may regard as our&mdash;er&mdash;financial adviser.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But as Roden is not here, we must do without his assistance. Perhaps Mr.
+      Wade would consent to act as our financial adviser on this occasion,&rdquo;
+       suggested Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go with you,&rdquo; replied the banker, &ldquo;and hear what they have to say,
+      if you like. But of course I can take no part in anything in the nature of
+      a controversy, and my name must not be mentioned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Incognito,&rdquo; suggested Lord Ferriby, with a forced laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;incognito,&rdquo; returned the banker, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The major attracted general attention to himself by murmuring something
+      inaudible, which he was urged to repeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doocid decent of Mr. Wade,&rdquo; he said, a second time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And that seemed to settle the matter, for they all moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave the carriage for me,&rdquo; cried Marguerite over the banisters, as her
+      father descended the stairs. &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; she added to Joan in an
+      undertone, &ldquo;that the Malgamite scheme is up a gum-tree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the little office of the Malgamite Fund the directors of that charity
+      found four gentlemen seated upon the chairs usually grouped round the
+      table where the ball committee or the bazaar sub-committees held their
+      sittings. One, who appeared to be what Lord Ferriby afterwards described,
+      more in sorrow than in anger, as the ringleader, was a red-haired,
+      brown-bearded Scotchman, with square shoulders and his head set thereon in
+      a manner indicative of advanced radical opinions. The second in authority
+      was a mild-mannered man with a pale face and a drooping sparse moustache.
+      He had a gentle eye, and lips for ever parting in a mildly argumentative
+      manner. The other two paper-makers appeared to be foreigners. &ldquo;Ah'm
+      thinking&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; began the mild man in a long drawl; but he was
+      promptly overpowered by his fellow-countryman, who nodded curtly to Mr.
+      Wade, and said&mdash;&ldquo;Lord Ferriby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the banker, calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my name,&rdquo; said the chairman of the Malgamite Fund, with his
+      finger in his watch-chain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The russet gentleman looked at him with a fierce blue eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we'll come to business. For it's on business that
+      we've come. My friend Mr. MacHewlett, is, like myself, in charge of one of
+      the biggest mills in the country; here's Mossier Delmont of the great mill
+      at Clermont-Ferrand, and Mr. Meyer from Germany. My own name's a plain one&mdash;like
+      myself&mdash;but an honest one; it's John Thompson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby bowed, and Major White looked at John Thompson with a placid
+      interest, as if he felt glad of this opportunity of meeting one of the
+      Thompson family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we've come to ask you to be so good as to explain your position as
+      regards malgamite. What are ye, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; began Lord Ferriby, with one hand upraised in mild
+      expostulation, &ldquo;let us be a little more conciliatory in our manner. We
+      are, I am sure (I speak for myself and my fellow-directors, whom you see
+      before you), most desirous of avoiding any unpleasantness, and we are
+      ready to give you all the information in our power, when&rdquo;&mdash;he paused,
+      and waved a graceful hand&mdash;&ldquo;when you have proved your right to demand
+      such information.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our right is that of representatives of a great trade. We four men, that
+      have been deputed to see you on the matter, have at our backs no less than
+      eight thousand employees&mdash;honest, hard-workin' men, whose bread you
+      are taking out of their mouths. We are not afraid of the ordinary
+      vicissitudes of commerce. If ye had quietly worked this monopoly in fair
+      competition, we should have known how to meet ye. But ye come before the
+      world as philanthropists, and ye work a great monopoly under the guise of
+      doin' a good work. It was a dirty thing to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you fail to
+      grasp the situation. We have given our time and attention to the
+      grievances of these poor men, whose lot it has been our earnest endeavour
+      to ameliorate. You are speaking, my dear sir, to men who represent, not
+      eight thousand employes, but who represent something greater than they,
+      namely, charity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah'm thinking!&rdquo; began Mr. MacHewlett, plaintively, and the very richness
+      of his accents secured a breathless attention. &ldquo;Damn charity,&rdquo; he
+      concluded, abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White looked upon him in solid approval, as upon a plain-spoken
+      man after his own heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we,&rdquo; said Mr. Thompson, &ldquo;represent commerce, which was in the world
+      before charity, and will be there after it, if charity is going to be
+      handled by such as you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was, it appeared, no possibility of pacifying these irate
+      paper-makers, whose plainness of speech was positively painful to ears so
+      polite as those of Lord Ferriby. A Scotchman, hard hit in his tenderest
+      spot, namely, the pocket, is not a person to mince words, and Lord Ferriby
+      was for the moment silenced by the stormy attack of Mr. Thompson, and the
+      sly, plaintive hits of his companion. But the chairman of the Malgamite
+      Fund would not give way, and only repeated his assurances of a desire to
+      conciliate, which desire took the form only of words, and must, therefore,
+      have been doubly annoying to angry men. To him who wants war there is
+      nothing more insulting than feeble offers of peace. Major White expressed
+      his readiness to fight Messrs. Thompson and MacHewlett at one and the same
+      time on the landing, but this suggestion was not well received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon two of the listeners no word was lost, and Mr. Wade and Cornish knew
+      that the paper-makers had right upon their side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite suddenly Mr. Thompson's manner changed, and he glanced towards the
+      door to see that it was closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it's a matter of paying,&rdquo; he said to his companions. Turning towards
+      Lord Ferriby, he spoke in a voice that sounded more contemptuous than
+      angry. &ldquo;We're plain business men,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What's your price&mdash;you
+      and these other gentlemen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no price,&rdquo; answered Cornish, meeting the angry blue eyes and
+      speaking for the first time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And mine is too high&mdash;for plain business men,&rdquo; added Major White,
+      with a slow smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seeing that you're a lord,&rdquo; said Thompson, addressing the chairman again,
+      &ldquo;I suppose it's a matter of thousands. Name your figure, and be done with
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby took the insult in quite a different spirit to that displayed
+      by his two co-directors. He was pale with anger, and spluttered rather
+      incoherently. Then he took up his hat and stick and walked with much
+      dignity to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was followed down the stairs by the paper-makers, Mr. Thompson making
+      use of language that was decidedly bespattered with &ldquo;winged words,&rdquo; while
+      Mr. MacHewlett detailed his own thoughts in a plaintive monotone. Lord
+      Ferriby got rather hastily into a hansom and drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing for it,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade to Cornish in the gay little
+      office above the Ladies' Tea Association&mdash;&ldquo;there is nothing for it
+      but to run Roden's Corner yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. DANGER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was possessed of that love of horses which, like sentiment,
+      crops up in strange places. He had never been able to indulge this taste
+      beyond the doubtful capacities of the livery-stable. He found, however,
+      that at the Hague he could hire a good saddle-horse, which discovery was
+      made with suspicious haste after learning the fact that Mrs. Vansittart
+      occasionally indulged in the exercise that his soul loved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart said that she rode because one has to take exercise, and
+      riding is the laziest method of fulfilling one's obligations in this
+      respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like horsy women,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and I cannot understand how my sex
+      has been foolish enough to believe that any woman looks her best, or,
+      indeed, anything but her worst, in the saddle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There is a period in the lives of most men when they are desirous of
+      extending their knowledge of the surrounding country on horseback, on a
+      bicycle, on foot, or even on their hands and knees, if such journeys might
+      be accomplished in the company of a certain person. Percy Roden was at
+      this period, and he soon discovered that there are tulip farms in the
+      neighbourhood of The Hague. A tulip farm may serve its purpose as well as
+      ever did a ruin or a waterfall in more picturesque countries than Holland;
+      for, indeed, during the last weeks in April and the early half of May,
+      these fields of waving yellow, pink, and red are worth traveling many
+      miles to see. As for Mrs. Vansittart, it may be said of her, as of the
+      rest of her sex under similar circumstances, that it suited her purpose to
+      say that she would like nothing better than to visit the tulip farms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's suggestion included breakfast at the Villa des Dunes, whither Mrs.
+      Vansittart drove in her habit, while her saddle-horse was to follow later.
+      Dorothy welcomed her readily enough, with, however, a reserve at the back
+      of her grey eyes. A woman is, it appears, ready to forgive much if love
+      may be held out as an excuse, but Dorothy did not believe that Mrs.
+      Vansittart had any love for Percy; indeed, she shrewdly suspected that all
+      that part of this woman's life belonged to the past, and would remain
+      there until the end of her existence. There are few things more
+      astonishing to the close observer of human nature than the accuracy and
+      rapidity with which one woman will sum up another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not in your habit,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, seating herself at the
+      breakfast-table. &ldquo;You are not to be of the party?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;I have never had the opportunity or the
+      inclination to ride.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I know,&rdquo; laughed the elder woman. &ldquo;Horses are old-fashioned, and only
+      dowagers drive in a barouche to-day. I suppose you ride a bicycle, or
+      would do so in any country but Holland, where the roads make that craze a
+      madness. I must be content with my old-fashioned horse. If, in moving with
+      the times, one's movements are apt to be awkward, it is better to be left
+      behind, is it not, Mr. Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's glance expressed what he did not care to say in the presence of a
+      third person. When a woman, whose every movement is graceful, speaks of
+      awkwardness, she assuredly knows her ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, moreover, showed clearly enough that she was on the safe
+      side of forty by quite a number of years when it came to settling herself
+      in the saddle and sitting her fresh young horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which way?&rdquo; she inquired when they reached the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that way, at all events,&rdquo; answered Roden, for his companion had
+      turned her horse's head toward the malgamite works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke with a laugh that was not pleasant to the ears, and a shadow
+      passed through Mrs. Vansittart's dark eyes. She glanced across the yellow
+      sand hills, where the works were effectually concealed by the rise and
+      fall of the wind-swept land, from whence came no sign of human life, and
+      only at times, when the north wind blew, a faint and not unpleasant odour
+      like the smell of sealing-wax. For all that the world knew of the
+      malgamite workers, they might have been a colony of lepers. &ldquo;You speak,&rdquo;
+       said Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;as if you were a failure instead of a brilliant
+      success. I think&rdquo;&mdash;she paused for a moment, as if the thought were a
+      real one and not a mere conversational convenience, as are the thoughts of
+      most people&mdash;&ldquo;that the cream of social life consists of the cheery
+      failures.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no faith in my own luck,&rdquo; answered Percy Roden, gloomily, whose
+      world was a narrow one, consisting as it did of himself and his bank-book.
+      Moreover, most men draw aside readily enough the curtain that should hide
+      the world in which they live, whereas women take their stand before their
+      curtain and talk, and talk&mdash;of other things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had never for a moment been mistaken in her estimate of
+      her companion, of&mdash;as he considered himself&mdash;her lover. She had
+      absolutely nothing in common with him. She was a physically lazy, but a
+      mentally active woman, whose thoughts ran to abstract matters so
+      persistently that they brought her to the verge of abstraction itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden, on the other hand, would, with better health, have been an
+      athlete. In his youth he had overtaxed his strength on the football field.
+      When he took up a newspaper now he read the money column first and the
+      sporting items next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart glanced at neither of these, and as often as not contented
+      herself with the advertisements of new books, passing idly over the news
+      of the world with a heedless eye. She, at all events, avoided the mistake,
+      common to men and women of a journalistic generation, of allowing
+      themselves to be vastly perturbed over events in far countries, which can
+      in no way affect their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, on the other hand, took a certain broad interest in the progress of
+      the world, but only watched the daily procession of events with the
+      discriminating eye of a business man. He kept his eye, in a word, on the
+      main chance, as on a small golden thread woven in the grey tissue of the
+      world's history.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was easy enough to make him talk of himself and of the Malgamite
+      scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you must admit that you are a success, you know,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Vansittart. &ldquo;I see your quiet grey carts, full of little square boxes,
+      passing up Park Straat to the railway station in a procession every day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; admitted Roden. &ldquo;We are doing a large business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was willing to allow Mrs. Vansittart to suppose that he was a rich man,
+      for he was shrewd enough to know that the affections, like all else in
+      this world, are purchasable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there is no reason,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;why you should not
+      go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
+      malgamite is an absolute secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the process is preserved in your memory only?&rdquo; asked the lady, with a
+      little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity of wiser
+      men than Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in my memory,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It is very long and technical, and I
+      have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
+      better one than mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered, or
+      something dramatic of that sort&mdash;what would happen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; answered Roden, &ldquo;we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew, in
+      our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys of
+      the safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart laughed. &ldquo;It sounds like a romance,&rdquo; she said. She pulled
+      up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. &ldquo;Look at that line
+      of sea,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;on the horizon. What a wonderful blue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is always dark like that with an east wind,&rdquo; replied Roden,
+      practically. &ldquo;We like to see it dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
+      half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,&rdquo; he
+      explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think of everything,&rdquo; she said, without enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I only think of you,&rdquo; he answered, with a little laugh, which indeed
+      was his method of making love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For fear of Mrs. Vansittart laughing at him, he laughed at love&mdash;a
+      very common form of cowardice. She smiled and said nothing, thus tacitly
+      allowing him, as she had allowed him before, to assume that she was not
+      displeased. She knew that in love he was the incarnation of caution, and
+      would only venture so far as she encouraged him to come. She had him, in a
+      word, thoroughly in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rode on, talking of other things; and Roden, having sped his shaft,
+      seemed relieved in mind, and had plenty to say&mdash;about himself. A
+      man's interests are himself, and malgamite naturally formed a large part
+      of Roden's conversation. Mrs. Vansittart encouraged him with a singular
+      persistency to talk of this interesting product.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful,&rdquo; she said&mdash;&ldquo;quite wonderful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hardly that,&rdquo; he answered slowly, as if there were something more
+      to be said, which he did not say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I do not give so much credit to Herr von Holzen as you suppose,&rdquo;
+       added Mrs. Vansittart, carelessly. &ldquo;Some day you will have to fulfil your
+      promise of taking me over the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden did not answer. He was perhaps wondering when he had made the
+      promise to which his companion referred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we go home that way?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, whose experience of
+      the world had taught her that deliberate and steady daring in social
+      matters usually, succeeds. &ldquo;We might have a splendid gallop along the
+      sands at low tide, and then ride up quietly through the dunes. I take a
+      certain interest in&mdash;well&mdash;in your affairs, and you have never
+      even allowed me to look at the outside of the malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Should like to know the extent of your interest,&rdquo; muttered Roden, with
+      his awkward laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say you would,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart, coolly. &ldquo;But that is not
+      the question. Here we are at the cross-roads. Shall we go home by the
+      sands and the dunes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you like,&rdquo; answered Roden, not too graciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      According to his lights, he was honestly in love with Mrs. Vansittart, but
+      Percy Roden's lights were not brilliant, and his love was not a very high
+      form of that little-known passion. It lacked, for instance, unselfishness,
+      and love that lacks unselfishness is, at its best, a sorry business. He
+      was afraid of ridicule. His vanity would not allow him to risk a rebuff.
+      His was that faintness of heart which is all too common, and owes its
+      ignoble existence to a sullen vanity. He wanted to be sure that Mrs.
+      Vansittart loved him before he betrayed more than a half-contemptuous
+      admiration for her. Who knows that he was not dimly aware of his own
+      inferiority, and thus feared to venture?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tide was low, as Mrs. Vansittart had foreseen, and they galloped along
+      the hard, flat sands towards Scheveningen, where a few clumsy
+      fishing-boats lay stranded. Far out at sea, others plied their trade,
+      tacking to and fro over the banks, where the fish congregate. The sky was
+      clear, and the deep-coloured sea flashed here and there beneath the sun.
+      Objects near and far stood out in the clear air with a startling
+      distinctness. It was a fresh May morning, when it is good to be alive, and
+      better to be young.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart rode a few yards ahead of her companion, with a set face
+      and deep calculating eyes. When they came within sight of the tall chimney
+      of the pumping-station, it was she who led the way across the dunes.
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; she suddenly inquired, pulling up, and turning in her saddle,
+      &ldquo;where are your works? It seems that one can never discover them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden passed her and took the lead. &ldquo;I will take you there, since you are
+      so anxious to go&mdash;if you will tell me why you wish to see the works,&rdquo;
+       he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to know,&rdquo; she answered, with averted eyes and a slow
+      deliberation, &ldquo;where and how you spend so much of your time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you are jealous of the malgamite works,&rdquo; he said, with his curt
+      laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I am,&rdquo; she admitted, without meeting his glance; and Roden rode
+      ahead, with a gleam of satisfaction in his heavy eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mrs. Vansittart found herself within the gates of the malgamite works,
+      riding quietly on the silent sand, at the heels of Roden's horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The workmen's dinner-bell had rung as they approached, and now the
+      factories were deserted, while within the cottages the midday meal
+      occupied the full attention of the voluntary exiles. For the directors had
+      found it necessary, in the interests of all concerned, to bind the workers
+      by solemn contract never to leave the precincts of the works without
+      permission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden did not speak, but led the way across an open space now filled with
+      carts, which were to be loaded during the day in readiness for an early
+      despatch on the following morning. Mrs. Vansittart followed without asking
+      questions. She was prepared to content herself with a very cursory visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had not progressed thirty yards from the entrance gate, which Roden
+      had opened with a key attached to his watch-chain, when the door of one of
+      the cottages moved, and Von Holzen appeared. He was hatless, and came out
+      into the sunshine rather hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, madame,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you honour us beyond our merits.&rdquo; And he stood,
+      smiling gravely, in front of Mrs. Vansittart's horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She surreptitiously touched the animal with her heel, but Von Holzen
+      checked its movement by laying his hand on the bridle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it happens to be our mixing day, and the factories are
+      hermetically closed while the process goes forward. Any other day, madame,
+      that your fancy brings you over the dunes, I should be delighted&mdash;but
+      not to-day. I tell you frankly there is danger. You surely would not run
+      into it.&rdquo; He looked up at her with his searching gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you think it is easy to frighten me, Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; she cried,
+      with a little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but I would not for the world that you should unwittingly run any
+      risks in this place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, he led the horse quietly to the gate, and Mrs. Vansittart,
+      seeing her helplessness, submitted with a good grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden made no comment, and followed, not ill pleased, perhaps, at this
+      simple solution of his difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did not refer to the incident until late in the evening, when
+      Roden was leaving the works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is too serious a time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to let women, or vanity, interfere
+      in our plans. You know that the deaths are on the increase. Anything in
+      the nature of an inquiry at this time would mean ruin, and&mdash;perhaps
+      worse. Be careful of that woman. I sometimes think that she is fooling
+      you.&mdash;But I think,&rdquo; he added to himself, when the gate was closed
+      behind Roden, &ldquo;that I can fool her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;A tous maux, il y a deux remèdes&mdash;le temps et le silence.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They call me Uncle Ben&mdash;comprenny?&rdquo; one man explained very slowly to
+      another for the sixth time across a small iron table set out upon the
+      pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated in front of the humble Café de l'Europe, which lies
+      concealed in an alley that runs between the Keize Straat and the
+      lighthouse of Scheveningen. It was quite dark and a lonely reveler at the
+      next table seemed to be asleep. The economical proprietor of the Café de
+      l'Europe had conceived the idea of constructing a long-shaped lantern, not
+      unlike the arm of a railway signal, which should at once bear the insignia
+      of his house and afford light to his out-door custom. But the idea, like
+      many of the higher flights of the human imagination, had only left the
+      public in the dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued the unchallenged speaker, in a voice which may be heard
+      issuing from the door of any tavern in England on almost any evening of
+      the week&mdash;the typical voice of the tavern-talker&mdash;&ldquo;yes, they've
+      always called me Uncle Ben. Seems as if they're sort o' fond of me. Me has
+      seen many hundreds of 'em come and go. But nothing like this. Lord save
+      us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His hand fell heavily on the iron table, and he looked round him in
+      semi-intoxicated stupefaction. He was in a confidential humour, and when a
+      man is in this humour, drunk or sober, he is in a parlous state. It was
+      certainly rather unfortunate that Uncle Ben should have in this expansive
+      moment no more sympathetic companion than an ancient, intoxicated
+      Frenchman, who spoke no word of English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I want to know, Frenchy,&rdquo; continued the Englishman, in a thick,
+      aggrieved voice, &ldquo;is how long you've been at this trade, and how much you
+      know about it&mdash;you and the other Frenchy. But there's none of us
+      speaks the other's lingo. It is a regular Tower of Babble we are!&rdquo; And
+      Uncle Ben added to his mental confusion a further alcoholic fog. &ldquo;That's
+      why I showed yer the way out of the works over the iron fence by the empty
+      casks, and brought yer by the beach to this 'ere house of entertainment,
+      and stood yer a bottle of brandy between two of us&mdash;which is
+      handsome, not bein' my own money, seeing as how the others deputed me to
+      do it&mdash;me knowing a bit of French, comprenny?&rdquo; Benjamin, like most of
+      his countrymen, considering that if one speaks English in a loud, clear
+      voice, and adds &ldquo;comprenny&rdquo; rather severely, as indicating the intention
+      of standing no nonsense, the previous remarks will translate themselves
+      miraculously in the hearer's mind. &ldquo;You comprenny&mdash;eh? Yes. Oui.&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;Oui,&rdquo; replied the Frenchman, holding out his glass; and Uncle Ben's was
+      that pride which goes with a gift of tongues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He struck a match to light his pipe&mdash;one of the wooden,
+      sulphur-headed matches supplied by the <i>café</i>&mdash;and the guest at
+      the next table turned in his chair. The match flared up and showed two
+      faces, which he studied keenly. Both faces were alike unwashed and deeply
+      furrowed. White, straggling beards and whiskers accentuated the redness of
+      the eyelids, the dull yellow of the skin. They were hopeless and debased
+      faces, with that disquieting resemblance which is perceptible in the faces
+      of men of dissimilar features and no kinship, who have for a number of
+      years followed a common calling, or suffered a common pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These two men were both half blind; they had equally unsteady hands. The
+      clothing of both alike, and even their breath, was scented by a not
+      unpleasant odour of sealing-wax.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was quite obvious that not only were they at present half intoxicated,
+      but in their soberest moments they could hardly be of a high intelligence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reveller at the next table, who happened to be Tony Cornish, now drew
+      his chair nearer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Englishman?&rdquo; he inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's me,&rdquo; answered Uncle Ben, with commendable pride, &ldquo;from the top of
+      my head to me boots. Not that I've anything to say against foreigners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I; but it's pleasant to meet a countryman in a foreign land.&rdquo; Cornish
+      deliberately brought his chair forward. &ldquo;Your bottle is empty,&rdquo; he added;
+      &ldquo;I'll order another. Friend's a Frenchman, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That he is&mdash;and doesn't understand his own language either,&rdquo;
+       answered Uncle Ben, in a voice indicating that that lack of comprehension
+      rather intensified his friend's Frenchness than otherwise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor of the Café de l'Europe now came out in answer to Cornish's
+      rap on the iron table, and presently brought a small bottle of brandy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish, pouring out the spirit, which his companions drank in
+      its undiluted state from small tumblers&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I'm glad to meet an
+      Englishman. I suppose you are in the works&mdash;the Malgamite?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. And what do you know about malgamite, mister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not much, I am glad to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is precious few that knows anything,&rdquo; said the man, darkly, and his
+      eye for a moment sobered into cunning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard that it is a very dangerous trade, and if you want to get
+      out of it I'm connected with an association in London to provide
+      situations for elderly men who are no longer up to their work,&rdquo; said
+      Cornish, carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank ye, mister; not for me. I'm making my five-pound note a week, I am,
+      and each cove that dies off makes the survivors one richer, so to speak&mdash;survival
+      of the fittest, they call it. So we don't talk much, and just pockets the
+      pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that is the arrangement, is it?&rdquo; said Cornish, indifferently. &ldquo;Yes.
+      We've got a clever financier, as they call it, I can tell yer. We're a
+      good-goin' concern, we are. Some of us are goin' pretty quick, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there many deaths, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! there you're asking a question,&rdquo; returned the man, who came of a
+      class which has no false shame in refusing a reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked at the man beneath the dim light of the unsuccessful lamp&mdash;a
+      piteous specimen of humanity, depraved, besotted, without outward sign of
+      a redeeming virtue, although a certain courage must have been there&mdash;this
+      and such as this stood between him and Dorothy Roden. Uncle Ben had known
+      starvation at one time, for starvation writes certain lines which even
+      turtle soup may never wipe out&mdash;lines which any may read and none may
+      forget. Tony Cornish had seen them before&mdash;on the face of an old
+      dandy coming down the steps of a St. James's Street club. The malgamiter
+      had likewise known drink long and intimately, and it is no exaggeration to
+      say that he had stood cheek by jowl with death nearly all his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such a man was plainly not to be drawn away from five pounds a week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to the Frenchman&mdash;a little, cunning, bullet-headed
+      Lyonnais, who would not speak of his craft at all, though he expressed
+      every desire to be agreeable to monsieur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is <i>en fête</i>,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;it is good to drink one's glass
+      or two and think no more of work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew one or two of your men once,&rdquo; said Cornish, returning to the
+      genial Uncle Ben. &ldquo;William Martins, I remember, was a decent fellow, and
+      had seen a bit of the world. I will come to the works and look him up some
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can look him up, mister, but you won't find him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, has he gone home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's gone to his long home, that's where he's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And his brother, Tom Martins, both London men, like myself?&rdquo; inquired
+      Cornish, without asking that question which Uncle Ben considered such
+      exceedingly bad form.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom's dead, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there were two Americans, I recollect&mdash;I came across from
+      Harwich in the same boat with them&mdash;Hewlish they were called.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hewlishes has stepped round the corner, too,&rdquo; admitted Uncle Ben. &ldquo;Oh
+      yes; there's been changes in the works, there's no doubt. And there's only
+      one sort o' change in the malgamite trade. Come on, Frenchy, time's up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The men stood up and bade Cornish good night, each after his own manner,
+      and went away steadily enough. It was only their heads that were
+      intoxicated, and perhaps the brandy of the Café de l'Europe had nothing to
+      do with this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish followed them, and, in the Keize Straat, he called a cab, telling
+      the man to drive to the house at the corner of Oranje Straat and Park
+      Straat, occupied by Mrs. Vansittart. That lady, the servant said, in reply
+      to his careful inquiry, was at home and alone, and, moreover, did not
+      expect visitors. The man was not at all sure that madame would receive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try,&rdquo; said Cornish, writing two words in German on the corner of
+      his visiting-card. &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; he continued, noticing a well-trained
+      glance, &ldquo;that I am not dressed, so if other visitors arrive, I would
+      rather not be discovered in madame's salon, you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart shook hands with Cornish in silence, her quick eyes noted
+      the change in him which the shrewd butler had noticed in the
+      entrance-hall. The Cornish of a year earlier would have gone back to the
+      hotel to dress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just going out to the Witte society concert,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart.
+      &ldquo;I thought the open air and the wood would be pleasant this evening. Shall
+      we go or shall we remain?&rdquo; She stood with her hand on the bell looking at
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us remain here,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rang the bell and countermanded the carriage. Then she sat slowly
+      down, moving as under a sort of oppression, as if she foresaw what the
+      next few minutes contained, and felt herself on the threshold of one of
+      the surprises that Fate springs upon us at odd times, tearing aside the
+      veils behind which human hearts have slept through many years. For
+      indifference is not the death, but only the sleep of the heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have just arrived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been here a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Cornish, with a grave smile; &ldquo;at a little inn in
+      Scheveningen, where no questions are asked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart nodded her head slowly. &ldquo;Then, <i>mon ami</i>,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;the time has come for plain speaking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is always the woman who wants to get to the plain speaking,&rdquo; she said,
+      with a smile, &ldquo;and who speaks the plainest when one gets there. You men
+      are afraid of so many words; you think them, but you dare not make use of
+      them. And how are women to know that you are thinking them?&rdquo; She spoke
+      with a sort of tolerant bitterness, as if all these questions no longer
+      interested her personally. She sat forward, with one hand on the arm of
+      her chair. &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh that shook and trembled
+      on the brink of a whole sea of unshed tears, &ldquo;I will speak the first word.
+      When my husband died, my heart broke&mdash;and it was Otto von Holzen who
+      killed him.&rdquo; Her eyes flashed suddenly, and she threw herself back in the
+      chair. Her hands were trembling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made a quick gesture of the hand&mdash;a trick he had learnt
+      somewhere on the Continent, more eloquent than a hundred words&mdash;which
+      told of his sympathy and his comprehension of all that she had left
+      unsaid. For truly she had told him her whole history in a dozen words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have followed him and watched him ever since,&rdquo; she went on at length,
+      in a quiet voice; &ldquo;but a woman is so helpless. I suppose if any of us were
+      watched and followed as he has been our lives would appear a strange
+      mixture of a little good and much bad, mixed with a mass of neutral
+      idleness. But surely his life is worse than the rest&mdash;not that it
+      matters. Whatever his life had been, if he had been a living saint, Tony,
+      he would have had to pay&mdash;for what he has done to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked steadily into the keen face that was watching hers. She was not
+      in the least melodramatic, and what was stranger, perhaps, she was not
+      ashamed. According to her lights, she was a good woman, who went to church
+      regularly, and did a little conventional good with her superfluous wealth.
+      She obeyed the unwritten laws of society, and busied herself little in her
+      neighbours' affairs. She was kind to her servants, and did not hate her
+      neighbours more than is necessary in a crowded world. She led a blameless,
+      unoccupied, and apparently purposeless life. And now she quietly told Tony
+      Cornish that her life was not purposeless, but had for its aim the desire
+      of an eye for an eye and a life for a life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember my husband,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Vansittart, after a pause. &ldquo;He
+      was always absorbed in his researches. He made a great discovery, and
+      confided in Otto von Holzen, who thought that he could make a fortune out
+      of it. But Von Holzen cheated and was caught. There was a great trial, and
+      Von Holzen succeeded in incriminating my husband, who was innocent,
+      instead of himself. The company, of course, failed, which meant ruin and
+      dishonour. In a fit of despair my husband shot himself. And afterwards it
+      transpired that by shooting himself at that time he saved my money. One
+      cannot take proceedings against a dead man, it appears. So I was left a
+      rich woman, after all, and my husband had frustrated Otto von Holzen. The
+      world did not believe that my husband had done it on purpose; but I knew
+      better. It is one of those beliefs that one keeps to one's self, and is
+      indifferent whether the world believes or not. So there remain but two
+      things for me to do&mdash;the one is to enjoy the money, and to let my
+      husband see that I spend it as he would have wished me to spend it&mdash;upon
+      myself; the other is to make Otto von Holzen pay&mdash;when the time
+      comes. Who knows? the Malgamite is perhaps the time; you are perhaps the
+      man.&rdquo; She gave her disquieting little laugh again, and sat looking at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; he said at length. &ldquo;Before, I was puzzled. There seemed no
+      reason why you should take any interest in the scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My interest in the Malgamite scheme narrows down to an interest in one
+      person,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;which is what really happens to all
+      human interests, my friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. A COMPLICATION.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;La plus grande punition infligée à l'homme, c'est faire
+     souffrir ce qu'il aime, en voulant frapper ce qu'il hait.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had, as he told Mrs. Vansittart, been living a week at
+      Scheveningen in one of the quiet little inns in the fishing-town, where a
+      couple of apples are displayed before lace curtains in the window of the
+      restaurant as a modest promise of entertainment within. Knowing no Dutch,
+      he was saved the necessity of satisfying the curiosity of a garrulous
+      landlady, who, after many futile questions which he understood perfectly,
+      came to the conclusion that Cornish was in hiding, and might at any moment
+      fall into the hands of the police.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There are, it appears, few human actions that attract more curiosity for a
+      short time than the act of colonization. But no change is in the long run
+      so apathetically accepted as the presence of a colony of aliens. Cornish
+      soon learnt that the malgamite works were already accepted at Scheveningen
+      as a fact of small local importance. One or two fish-sellers took their
+      wares there instead of going direct to The Hague. A few of the malgamite
+      workers were seen at times, when they could get leave, on the Digue, or
+      outside the smaller <i>cafés</i>. Inoffensive, stricken men these appeared
+      to be, and the big-limbed, hardy fishermen looked on them with mingled
+      contempt and pity. No one knew what the works were, and no one cared. Some
+      thought that fireworks were manufactured within the high fence; others
+      imagined it to be a gunpowder factory. All were content with the knowledge
+      that the establishment belonged to an English company employing no outside
+      labour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish spent his days unobtrusively walking on the dunes or writing
+      letters in his modest rooms. His evenings he usually passed at the Café de
+      l'Europe, where an occasional truant malgamite worker would indulge in a
+      mild carouse. From these grim revelers Cornish elicited a good deal of
+      information. He was not actually, as his landlady suspected, in hiding,
+      but desired to withhold as long as possible from Von Holzen and Roden the
+      fact that he was in Holland. None of the malgamite workers recognized him;
+      indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across to The Hague, and
+      he did not care to ask too many questions. At length, as we have seen, he
+      arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes had been too deeply
+      laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a preliminary to further
+      action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The following morning he happened to take his walk within sight of the
+      Villa des Dunes, although far enough away to avoid risk of recognition,
+      and saw Percy Roden leave the house shortly after nine to proceed towards
+      the works. Then Tony Cornish lighted a cigarette, and sat down to wait. He
+      knew that Dorothy usually walked to The Hague before the heat of the day
+      to do her shopping there and household business. He had not long to wait.
+      Dorothy quitted the little house half an hour after her brother. But she
+      did not go towards The Hague, turning to the right instead, across the
+      open dunes towards the sea. It was a cool morning after many hot days, and
+      a fresh, invigorating breeze swept over the sand hills from the sea. It
+      was to be presumed that Dorothy, having leisure, was going to the edge of
+      the sea for a breath of the brisk air there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish rose and followed her. He was essentially a practical man&mdash;among
+      the leaders of a practical generation. The day, moreover, was conducive to
+      practical thoughts and not to dreams, for it was grey and yet of a light
+      air which came bowling in from a grey sea whose shores have assuredly been
+      trodden by the most energetic of the races of the world. For all around
+      the North Sea and on its bosom have risen races of men to conquer the
+      universe again and again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had come with the intention of seeing Dorothy and speaking with
+      her. He had quite clearly in his mind what he intended to say to her. It
+      is not claimed for Tony Cornish that he had a great mind, and that this
+      was now made up. But his thoughts, like all else about him, were neat and
+      compact, wherein he had the advantage of cleverer men, who blundered along
+      under the burden of vast ideas, which they could not put into portable
+      shape, and over which they constantly stumbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed Dorothy, who walked briskly over the sand hills, upright,
+      trim, and strong. She carried a stick, which she planted firmly enough in
+      the sand as she walked. As he approached, he could see her lifting her
+      head to look for the sea; for the highest hills are on the shore here, and
+      stand in the form of a great barrier between the waves and the low-lying
+      plains. She swung along at the pace which Mrs. Vansittart had envied her,
+      without exertion, with that ease which only comes from perfect proportions
+      and strength.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite close to her before she heard his step, and turned
+      sharply. She recognized him at once, and he saw the colour slowly rise to
+      her face. She gave no cry of surprise, however, was in no foolish feminine
+      flutter, but came towards him quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know you were in Holland,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook hands without answering. All that he had prepared in his mind had
+      suddenly vanished, leaving not a blank, but a hundred other things which
+      he had not intended to say, and which now, at the sight of her face,
+      seemed inevitable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, looking into her steady grey eyes, &ldquo;I am in Holland&mdash;because
+      I cannot stay away&mdash;because I cannot live without you. I have
+      pretended to myself and to everybody else that I come to The Hague because
+      of the Malgamite; but it is not that. It is because you are here. Wherever
+      you are I must be; wherever you go I must follow you. The world is not big
+      enough for you to get away from me. It is so big that I feel I must always
+      be near you&mdash;for fear something should happen to you&mdash;to watch
+      over you and take care of you. You know what my life has been....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the
+      head. For a woman may read a man's life in his face&mdash;in the twinkling
+      of an eye&mdash;as in an open book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the world knows that....&rdquo; he continued, with a sceptical laugh. &ldquo;Is
+      it not written ... in the society papers? But it has always been
+      aboveboard&mdash;and harmless enough....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy smiled as she looked out across the grey sea. He was, it appeared,
+      telling her nothing that she did not know. For she was wise and shrewd&mdash;of
+      that pure leaven of womankind which leaveneth all the rest. And she knew
+      that a man must not be judged by his life&mdash;not even by outward
+      appearance, upon which the world pins so much faith&mdash;but by that
+      occasional glimpse of the soul of him, which may live on, pure through all
+      impurity, or may be foul beneath the whitest covering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I have wasted my time horribly&mdash;I have
+      never done any good in the world. But&mdash;great is the extenuating
+      circumstance! I never knew what life was until I saw it ... in your eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still she stood with her back half turned towards him, looking out across
+      the sea. The sun had mastered the clouds and all the surface of the water
+      glittered. A few boats on the horizon seemed to dream and sleep there.
+      Beneath the dunes, the sand stretched away north and south in an unbroken
+      plain. The wind whispered through the waving grass, and, far across the
+      sands, the sea sang its eternal song. Dorothy and Cornish seemed to be
+      alone in this world of sea and sand. So far as the eye could see, there
+      were no signs of human life but the boats dreaming on the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you quite sure?&rdquo; said Dorothy, without turning her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what...?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what you say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I am quite sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh that suddenly opened the gates of
+      Paradise and bade one more poor human-being enter in&mdash;&ldquo;because it is
+      a serious matter ... for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, because he was a practical man and knew that happiness, like all
+      else in this life, must be dealt with practically if aught is to be made
+      of it, he told her why he had come. For happiness must not be rushed at
+      and seized with wild eyes and grasping hands, but must be quickly taken
+      when the chance offers, and delicately handled so that it be not ruined by
+      over haste or too much confidence. It is a gift that is rarely offered,
+      and it is only fair to say that the majority of men and women are quite
+      unfit to have it. Even a little prosperity (which is usually mistaken for
+      happiness) often proves too much for the mental equilibrium, and one
+      trembles to think what the recipient would do with real happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not come here intending to tell you that,&rdquo; said Cornish, after a
+      pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated now on the dry and driven sand, among the inequalities of
+      the tufted grass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy glanced at him gravely, for his voice had been grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I knew,&rdquo; she answered, with a sort of quiet exultation. Happiness
+      is the quietest of human states.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to look at her, and after a moment she met his eyes&mdash;for
+      an instant only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came to tell you a very different story,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and one which at
+      the moment seems to present insuperable difficulties. I can only show you
+      that I care for you by bringing trouble into your life&mdash;which is not
+      even original.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off with a little, puzzled laugh. For he did not know how best to
+      tell her that her brother was a scoundrel. He sat making idle holes in the
+      sand with his stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in a difficulty,&rdquo; he said at length&mdash;&ldquo;so great a difficulty
+      that there seems to be only one way out of it. You must forget what I have
+      told you to-day, for I never meant to tell you until afterwards, if ever.
+      Forget it for some months until the malgamite works have ceased to exist,
+      and then, if I have the good fortune to be given an opportunity, I will&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      paused&mdash;&ldquo;I will mention myself again,&rdquo; he concluded steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy's lips quivered, but she said nothing. It seemed that she was
+      content to accept his judgment without comment as superior to her own. For
+      the wisest woman is she who suspects that men are wiser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite clear,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;that the Malgamite scheme is a fraud.
+      It is worse than that; it is a murderous fraud. For Von Holzen's new
+      system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system revived,
+      which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not this
+      identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the stuff
+      for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English, it is
+      murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must stop it whatever it may cost me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to the works to-night to have it out with Von Holzen and your
+      brother. It is impossible to say how matters really stand&mdash;how much
+      your brother knows, I mean&mdash;for Von Holzen is clever. He is a cold,
+      calculating man, who rules all who come near him. Your brother has only to
+      do with the money part of it. They are making a great fortune. I am told
+      that financially it is splendidly managed. I am a duffer at such things,
+      but I understand better now how it has all been done, and I see how clever
+      it is. They produce the stuff for almost nothing, they sell it at a great
+      price, and they have a monopoly. And the world thinks it is a charity. It
+      is not; it is murder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke quietly, tapping the ground with his stick, and emphasizing his
+      words with a deeper thrust into the sand. The habit of touching life
+      lightly had become second nature with him, and even now he did not seem
+      quite serious. He was, at all events, free from that deadly earnestness
+      which blinds the eye to all save one side of a question. The very soil
+      that he tapped could have risen up to speak in favour of such as he; for
+      William the Silent, it is said, loved a jest, and never seemed to be quite
+      serious during the long years of the greatest struggle the modern world
+      has seen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems probable,&rdquo; went on Cornish, &ldquo;that your brother has been
+      gradually drawn into it; that he did not know when he first joined Von
+      Holzen what the thing really was&mdash;the system of manufacture, I mean.
+      As for the financial side of it, I am afraid he must have known of that
+      all along; but the older one gets the less desirous one is of judging
+      one's neighbour. In financial matters so much seems to depend, in the
+      formation of a judgment, whether one is a loser or a gainer by the
+      transaction. There is a great fortune in malgamite, and a fortune is a
+      temptation to be avoided. Others besides your brother have been tempted. I
+      should probably have succumbed myself if it had not been&mdash;for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled again in a sort of derision; as if she could have told him more
+      about himself than he could tell her. He saw the smile, and it brought a
+      flash of light to his eyes. Deeper than fear of damnation, higher than the
+      creeds, stronger than any motive in a man's life, is the absolute
+      confidence placed in him by a woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went into the thing thoughtlessly,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;because it was the
+      fashion at the time to be concerned in some large charity. And I am not
+      sorry. It was the luckiest move I ever made. And now the thing will have
+      to be gone through with, and there will be trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he laughed as he spoke; for there was no trouble in their hearts,
+      neither could anything appall them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. DANGER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Beware equally of a sudden friend and a slow enemy.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Roden and Von Holzen were at work in the little office of the malgamite
+      works. The sun had just set, and the soft pearly twilight was creeping
+      over the sand hills. The day's work was over, and the factories were all
+      locked up for the night. In the stillness that seems to settle over earth
+      and sea at sunset, the sound of the little waves could be heard&mdash;a
+      distant, constant babbling from the west. The workers had gone to their
+      huts. They were not a noisy body of men. It was their custom to creep
+      quietly home when their work was done, and to sit in their doorways if the
+      evening was warm, or with closed doors if the north wind was astir, and
+      silently, steadily assuage their deadly thirst. Those who sought to
+      harvest their days, who fondly imagined they were going to make a fight
+      for it, drank milk according to advice handed down to them from their
+      sickly forefathers. The others, more reckless, or wiser, perhaps, in their
+      brief generation, took stronger drink to make glad their hearts and for
+      their many infirmities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had merely to ask, and that which they asked for was given to them
+      without comment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Uncle Ben to the new-comers, &ldquo;you has a slap-up time&mdash;while
+      it lasts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Uncle Ben was a strong man, and waxed garrulous in his cups. He had
+      made malgamite all his life and nothing would kill him, not even drink.
+      Von Holzen watched Uncle Ben, and did not like him. It was Uncle Ben who
+      played the concertina at the door of his hut in the evening. He sprang
+      from the class whose soul takes delight in the music of a concertina, and
+      rises on bank holidays to that height of gaiety which can only be
+      expressed by an interchange of hats. He came from the slums of London,
+      where they breed a race of men, small, ill-formed, disease-stricken, hard
+      to kill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The north wind was blowing this evening, and the huts were all closed. The
+      sound of Uncle Ben's concertina could be dimly heard in what purported to
+      be a popular air&mdash;a sort of nightmare of a tune such as a
+      barrel-organist must suffer after bad beer. Otherwise, there was nothing
+      stirring within the enclosure. There was, indeed, a hush over the whole
+      place, such as Nature sometimes lays over certain spots like a quiet veil,
+      as one might lay a cloth over the result of an accident, and say, &ldquo;There
+      is something wrong here; go away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish, having tried the main entrance gate, found it locked, and no bell
+      with which to summon those within. He went round to the northern end of
+      the enclosure, where the sand had drifted against the high corrugated iron
+      fencing, and where there were empty barrels on the inner side, as Uncle
+      Ben had told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I am a managing director of this concern,&rdquo; said Cornish to
+      himself, with a grim laugh, as he clambered over the fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked down the row of huts very slowly. Some of them were empty. The
+      door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him stop
+      and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy sheet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;m,&rdquo; muttered Cornish, and walked on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then
+      Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to
+      &ldquo;Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay.&rdquo; He bit his lips, restraining a sudden desire to
+      laugh without any mirth in his heart, and went towards Von Holzen's
+      office, where a light gleamed through the ill-closed curtains. For these
+      men were working night and day now&mdash;making their fortunes. He caught,
+      as he passed the window, a glimpse of Roden bending over a great ledger
+      which lay open before him on the table, while Von Holzen, at another desk,
+      was writing letters in his neat German hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cornish went to the door, opened it, and passing in, closed it behind
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; he said, with just a slight exaggeration of his usual
+      suave politeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halloa!&rdquo; exclaimed Roden, with a startled look, and instinctively closing
+      his ledger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked hastily towards Von Holzen, who turned, pen in hand. Von Holzen
+      bowed rather coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; he answered, without looking at Roden. Indeed, he crossed
+      the room, and placed himself in front of his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just come across?&rdquo; inquired Roden, putting together his papers with his
+      usual leisureliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been here some time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned and met Von Holzen's eyes with a ready audacity. He was not
+      afraid of this silent scientist, and had been trained in a social world
+      where nerve and daring are highly cultivated. Von Holzen looked at him
+      with a measuring eye, and remembered some warning words spoken by Roden
+      months before. This was a cleverer man than they had thought him. This was
+      the one mistake they had made in their careful scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been looking into things,&rdquo; said Cornish, in a final voice. He took
+      off his hat and laid it aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen went slowly back to his desk, which was a high one. He stood
+      there close by Roden, leaning his elbow on the letters that he had been
+      writing. The two men were thus together facing Cornish, who stood at the
+      other side of the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been looking into things,&rdquo; he repeated, &ldquo;and&mdash;the game is
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, whose face was quite colourless, shrugged his shoulders with a
+      sneering smile. Von Holzen slowly moistened his lips, and Cornish, meeting
+      his glance, felt his heart leap upward to his throat. His way had been the
+      way of peace. He had never seen that look in a man's eyes before, but
+      there was no mistaking it. There are two things that none can mistake&mdash;an
+      earthquake, and murder shining in a man's eyes. But there was good blood
+      in Cornish's veins, and good blood never fails. His muscles tightened, and
+      he smiled in Von Holzen's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you were over in London a fortnight ago,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you saw my
+      uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be
+      squared. As to the financial part of this business&rdquo;&mdash;he paused, and
+      glanced at the ledgers&mdash;&ldquo;that seems to be of secondary importance at
+      the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's tired eyes flickered at the way in which the word was spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I propose to deal with the more vital questions,&rdquo; Cornish continued,
+      looking straight at Von Holzen. &ldquo;I want details of the new process&mdash;the
+      prescription, in fact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you want much,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, with his slight accent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I want more than that,&rdquo; was the retort; &ldquo;I want a list of your deaths&mdash;not
+      necessarily for publication. If the public were to hear of it, they would
+      pull the place down about your ears, and probably hang you on your own
+      water-tower.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen laughed. &ldquo;Ah, my fine gentleman, if there is any hanging up to
+      be done, you are in it, too,&rdquo; he said. Then he broke into a good-humoured
+      laugh, and waved the question aside with his hand. &ldquo;But why should we
+      quarrel? It is mere foolishness. We are not schoolboys, but men of the
+      world, who are reasonable, I hope. I cannot give you the prescription
+      because it is a trade secret. You would not understand it without expert
+      assistance, and the expert would turn his knowledge to account. We
+      chemists, you see, do not trust each other. No; but I can make malgamite
+      here before your eyes&mdash;to show you that it is harmless&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+       He spoke easily, with a certain fascination of manner, as a man to whom
+      speech was easy enough&mdash;who was perhaps silent with a set purpose&mdash;because
+      silence is safe. &ldquo;But it is a long process,&rdquo; he added, holding up one
+      finger, &ldquo;I warn you. It will take me two hours. And you, who have perhaps
+      not dined, and this Roden, who is tired out&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Roden can go home&mdash;if he is tired,&rdquo; said Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, with outspread hands, &ldquo;it is as you like.
+      Will you have it now and here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;now and here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden was slowly folding away his papers and closing his books. He glanced
+      curiously at Von Holzen, as if he were displaying a hitherto unknown side
+      to his character. Von Holzen, too, was collecting the papers scattered on
+      his desk, with a patient air and a half-suppressed sigh of weariness, as
+      if he were entering upon a work of supererogation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to the deaths,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I can demonstrate that as we go along. You
+      will see where the dangers lie, and how criminally neglectful these people
+      are. It is a curious thing, that carelessness of life. I am told the
+      Russian soldiers have it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It seemed that in his way Herr von Holzen was a philosopher, having in his
+      mind a store of odd human items. He certainly had the power of arousing
+      curiosity and making his hearers wish him to continue speaking, which is
+      rare. Most men are uninteresting because they talk too much.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I think I will go,&rdquo; said Roden, rising. He looked from one to the
+      other, and received no answer. &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; he added, and walked to the
+      door with dragging feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; said Cornish. And he was left alone for the first time in
+      his life with Von Holzen, who was clearing the table and making his
+      preparations with a silent deftness of touch acquired by the handling of
+      delicate instruments, the mixing of dangerous drugs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then our good friend Lord Ferriby does not know that you are here?&rdquo; he
+      inquired, without much interest, as if acknowledging the necessity of
+      conversation of some sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I have shown you this experiment,&rdquo; pursued Von Holzen, setting the
+      lamp on a side-table, &ldquo;we must have a little talk about his lordship. With
+      all modesty, you and I have the clearest heads of all concerned in this
+      invention.&rdquo; He looked at Cornish with his sudden, pleasant smile. &ldquo;You
+      will excuse me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if while I am doing this I do not talk much. It
+      is a difficult thing to keep in one's head, and all the attention is
+      required in order to avoid a mistake or a mishap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had already assumed an air of unconscious command, which was probably
+      habitual with him, as if there were no question between them as to who was
+      the stronger man. Cornish sat, pleasantly silent and acquiescent, but he
+      felt in no way dominated. It is one thing to assume authority, and another
+      to possess it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a little laboratory in the factory where I usually work, but not
+      at night. We do not allow lights in there. Excuse me, I will fetch my
+      crucible and lamp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he went out, leaving Cornish alone. There was only one door to the
+      room, leading straight out into the open. The office, it appeared, was
+      built in the form of an annex to one of the storehouses, which stood
+      detached from all other buildings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes Von Holzen returned, laden with bottles and jars. One
+      large wicker-covered bottle with a screw top he set carefully on the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had to find them in the dark,&rdquo; he explained absent-mindedly, as if his
+      thoughts were all absorbed by the work in hand. &ldquo;And one must be careful
+      not to jar or break any of these. Please do not touch them in my absence.&rdquo;
+       As he spoke, he again examined the stoppers to see that all was secure. &ldquo;I
+      come again,&rdquo; he said, making sure that the large basket-covered bottle was
+      safe. Then he walked quickly out of the room and closed the door behind
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost immediately Cornish was conscious of a bitter taste in his mouth,
+      though he could smell nothing. The lamp suddenly burnt blue and instantly
+      went out.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Cornish stood up, groping in the dark, his head swimming, a deadly
+numbness dragging at his limbs. He had no pain, only a strange
+sensation of being drawn upwards. Then his head bumped against the
+door, and the remaining glimmer of consciousness shaped itself into the
+knowledge that this was death. He seemed to swing backwards and
+forwards between life and death&mdash;between sleep and consciousness. Then
+he felt a cooler air on his lips. He had fallen against the door, which
+did not fit against the threshold, and a draught of fresh air whistled
+through upon his face. &ldquo;Carbonic acid gas,&rdquo; he muttered, with shaking
+lips. &ldquo;Carbonic acid gas.&rdquo; He repeated the words over and over again,
+as a man in delirium repeats that which has fixed itself in his
+wandering brain. Then, with a great effort, he brought himself to
+understand the meaning of the words that one portion of his brain kept
+repeating to the other portion which could not comprehend them. He
+tried to recollect all that he knew of carbonic acid gas, which was, in
+fact, not much. He vaguely remembered that it is not an active gas that
+mingles with the air and spreads, but rather it lurks in corners&mdash;an
+invisible form of death&mdash;and will so lurk for years unless disturbed
+by a current of air.
+
+ Cornish knew that in falling he had fallen out of the radius of the
+escaping gas, which probably filled the upper part of the room. If he
+raised himself, he would raise himself into the gas, which was slowly
+descending upon him, and that would mean instant death. He had already
+inhaled enough&mdash;perhaps too much. He lay quite still, breathing the
+draught between the door and the threshold, and raising his left hand,
+felt for the handle of the door. He found it and turned it. The door
+was locked. He lay still, and his brain began to wander, but with an
+effort he kept a hold upon his thoughts. He was a strong man, who had
+never had a bad illness&mdash;a cool head and an intrepid heart.
+Stretching out his legs, he found some object close to him. It was Von
+Holzen's desk, which stood on four strong legs against the wall.
+Cornish, who was quick and observant, remembered now how the room was
+shaped and furnished. He gathered himself together, drew in his legs,
+and doubled himself, with his feet against the desk, his shoulder
+against the door. He was long and lithe, of a steely strength which he
+had never tried. He now slowly straightened himself, and tore the
+screws out of the solid wood of the door, which remained hanging by the
+upper hinge. His head and shoulders were now out in the open air.
+He lay for a moment or two to regain his breath, and recover from the
+deadly nausea that follows gas poisoning. Then he rose to his feet, and
+stood swaying like a drunken man. Von Holzen's cottage was a few yards
+away. A light was burning there, and gleamed through the cracks of the
+curtains.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish went towards the cottage, then paused. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he muttered, holding
+      his head with both hands. &ldquo;It will keep.&rdquo; And he staggered away in the
+      darkness towards the corner where the empty barrels stood against the
+      fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. FROM THE PAST.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;One and one with a shadowy third.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the air, <i>mon ami</i>, of a malgamiter,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart,
+      looking into Cornish's face&mdash;&ldquo;lurking here in your little inn in a
+      back street! Why do you not go to one of the larger hotels in
+      Scheveningen, since you have abandoned The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because the larger hotels are not open yet,&rdquo; replied Cornish, bringing
+      forward a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is true, now that I think of it. But I did not ask the question
+      wanting an answer. You, who have been in the world, should know women
+      better than to think that. I asked in idleness&mdash;a woman's trick. Yes;
+      you have been or you are ill. There is a white look in your face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat looking at him. She had walked all the way from Park Straat in the
+      shade of the trees&mdash;quite a pedestrian feat for one who confessed to
+      belonging to a carriage generation. She had boldly entered the restaurant
+      of the little hotel, and had told the waiter to take her to Mr. Cornish's
+      apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It hardly matters what a very young waiter, at the beginning of his
+      career, may think of us. But downstairs they are rather scandalized, I
+      warn you,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I ceased explaining many years ago,&rdquo; replied Cornish, &ldquo;even in
+      English. More suspicion is aroused by explanation than by silence. For
+      this wise world will not believe that one is telling the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is not,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is not,&rdquo; admitted Cornish, in rather a tired voice, which, to so
+      keen an ear as that of his hearer, was as good as asking her why she had
+      come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are not inclined to sit and talk
+      nonsense at this time in the morning. No more am I. I did not walk from
+      Park Straat and take your defences by storm, and subject myself to the
+      insult of a raised eyebrow on the countenance of a foolish young waiter,
+      to talk nonsense even with you, who are cleverer with your non-committing
+      platitudes than any man I know.&rdquo; She laughed rather harshly, as many do
+      when they find themselves suddenly within hail, as it were, of that
+      weakness which is called feeling. &ldquo;No, I came here on&mdash;let us say&mdash;business.
+      I hold a good card, and I am going to play it. I want you to hold your
+      hand in the mean time; give me to-day, you understand. I have taken great
+      care to strengthen my hand. This is no sudden impulse, but a set purpose
+      to which I have led up for some weeks. It is not scrupulous; it is not
+      even honest. It is, in a word, essentially feminine, and not an affair to
+      which you as a man could lend a moment's approval. Therefore, I tell you
+      nothing. I merely ask you to leave me an open field to-day. Our end is the
+      same, though our methods and our purpose differ as much as&mdash;well, as
+      much as our minds. You want to break this Malgamite corner. I want to
+      break Otto von Holzen. You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had known her long enough to permit himself to nod and say
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I succeed, <i>tant mieux</i>. If I fail, it is no concern of yours,
+      and it will in no way affect you or your plans. Ah, you disapprove, I see.
+      What a complicated world this would be if we could all wear masks! Your
+      face used to be a safer one than it is now. Can it be that you are
+      becoming serious&mdash;<i>un jeune homme sérieux?</i> Heaven save you from
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have a headache; that is all,&rdquo; laughed Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was slowly unbuttoning and rebuttoning her glove, deep in
+      thought. For some women can think deeply and talk superficially at the
+      same moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; she said, with a sudden change of voice and manner, &ldquo;I have
+      a conviction that you know something to-day of which you were ignorant
+      yesterday? All knowledge, I suppose, leaves its mark. Something about Otto
+      von Holzen, I suspect. Ah, Tony, if you know something, tell it to me. If
+      you hold a strong card, let me play it. You do not know how I have longed
+      and waited&mdash;what a miserable little hand I hold against this strong
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was serious enough now. Her voice had a ring of hopelessness in it, as
+      if she knew that limit against which a woman is fated to throw herself
+      when she tries to injure a man who has no love for her. If the love be
+      there, then is she strong, indeed; but without it, what can she do? It is
+      the little more that is so much, and the little less that is such worlds
+      away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish did not deny the knowledge which she ascribed to him, but merely
+      shook his head, and Mrs. Vansittart suddenly changed her manner again. She
+      was quick and clever enough to know that whatever account stood open
+      between Cornish and Von Holzen the reckoning must be between them alone,
+      without the help of any woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will remain indoors,&rdquo; she said, rising, &ldquo;and recover from your
+      ... strange headache&mdash;and not go near the malgamite works, nor see
+      Percy Roden or Otto von Holzen&mdash;and let me have my little try&mdash;that
+      is all I ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, reluctantly; &ldquo;but I think you would be wiser to
+      leave Von Holzen to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, with one of her quick glances. &ldquo;You think
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused on the threshold, then shrugged her shoulders and passed out.
+      She hurried home, and there wrote a note to Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;DEAR MR. RODEN,
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems a long time since I saw you last, though perhaps it only seems
+      so to <i>me</i>. I shall be at home at five o'clock this evening, if you
+      care to take pity on a lonely countrywoman. If I should be out riding when
+      you come, please await my return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours very truly,
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;EDITH VANSITTART.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      She closed the letter with a little cruel smile, and despatched it by the
+      hand of a servant. Quite early in the afternoon she put on her habit, but
+      did not go straight downstairs, although her horse was at the door. She
+      went to the library instead&mdash;a small, large-windowed room, looking on
+      to Oranje Straat. From a drawer in her writing-table she took a key, and
+      examined it closely before slipping it into her pocket. It was a new key
+      with the file-marks still upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A clumsy expedient,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But the end is so desirable that the
+      means must not be too scrupulously considered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rode down Kazerne Straat and through the wood by the Leyden Road. By
+      turning to the left, she soon made her way to the East Dunes, and thus
+      describing a circle, rode slowly back towards Scheveningen. She knew her
+      way, it appeared, to the malgamite works. Leaving her horse in the care of
+      the groom, she walked to the gate of the works, which was opened to her by
+      the doorkeeper, after some hesitation. The man was a German, and
+      therefore, perhaps, more amenable to Mrs. Vansittart's imperious
+      arguments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must see Herr von Holzen without delay,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Show me his
+      office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man pointed out the building. &ldquo;But the Herr Professor is in the
+      factory,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is mixing-day to-day. I will, however, fetch him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart walked slowly towards the office where Roden had told her
+      that the safe stood wherein the prescription and other papers were
+      secured. She knew it was mixing-day and that Von Holzen would be in the
+      factory. She had sent Roden on a fool's errand to Park Straat to await her
+      return there. Was she going to succeed? Would she be left alone for a few
+      moments in that little office with the safe? She fingered the key in her
+      pocket&mdash;a duplicate obtained at some risk, with infinite difficulty,
+      by the simple stratagem of borrowing Roden's keys to open an old and
+      disused desk one evening in Park Straat. She had conceived the plan
+      herself, had carried it out herself, as all must who wish to succeed in a
+      human design. She was quite aware that the plan was crude and almost
+      childish, but the gain was great, and it is often the simplest means that
+      succeed. The secret of the manufacture of malgamite&mdash;written in black
+      and white&mdash;might prove to be Von Holzen's death-warrant. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had to fight in her own way or not fight at all. She could not
+      understand the slower, surer methods of Mr. Wade and Cornish, who appeared
+      to be waiting and wasting time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The German doorkeeper accompanied her to the office, and opened the door
+      after knocking and receiving no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will the high-born take a seat?&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I shall not be long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no need to hurry,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And before the door was quite closed she was on her feet again. The office
+      was bare and orderly. Even the waste-paper baskets were empty. The books
+      were locked away and the desks were clear. But the small green safe stood
+      in the corner. Mrs. Vansittart went towards it, key in hand. The key was
+      the right one. It had only been selected by guesswork among a number on
+      Roden's bunch. It slipped into the lock and turned smoothly, but the door
+      would not move. She tugged and wrenched at the handle, then turned it
+      accidentally, and the heavy door swung open. There were two drawers at the
+      bottom of the safe which were not locked, and contained neatly folded
+      papers. Her fingers were among these in a moment. The papers were folded
+      and tied together. Many of the bundles were labelled. A long narrow
+      envelope lay at the bottom of the drawer. She seized it quickly and turned
+      it over. It bore no address nor any superscription. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said
+      breathlessly, and slipped her finger within the flap of the envelope. Then
+      she hesitated for a moment, and turned on her heel. Von Holzen was
+      standing in the doorway looking at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's lips
+      were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet eyes
+      were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark pupil. Then
+      he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong woman, taller
+      than he, or else she would have fallen. Instead, she stood her ground, and
+      he, failing to get a grasp at her wrist, stumbled sideways against the
+      table. In a moment she had run round it, and again they stared at each
+      other, without a word, across the table where Percy Roden kept the books
+      of the malgamite works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A slow smile came to Von Holzen's face, which was colourless always, and
+      now a sort of grey. He turned on his heel, walked to the door, and,
+      locking it, slipped the key into his pocket. Then he returned to Mrs.
+      Vansittart. Neither spoke. No explanation was at that moment necessary. He
+      lifted the table bodily, and set it aside against the wall. Then he went
+      slowly towards her, holding out his hand for the unaddressed envelope,
+      which she held behind her back. He stood for a moment holding out his hand
+      while his strong will went out to meet hers. Then he sprang at her again
+      and seized her two wrists. The strength of his arms was enormous, for he
+      was a deep-chested man, and had been a gymnast. The struggle was a short
+      one, and Mrs. Vansittart dropped the envelope helplessly from her
+      paralyzed fingers. He picked it up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the wife of Karl Vansittart,&rdquo; he said in German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am his widow,&rdquo; she replied; and her breath caught, for she was still
+      shaken by the physical and moral realization of her absolute helplessness
+      in his hands, and she saw in a flash of thought the question in his mind
+      as to whether he could afford to let her leave the room alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me the key with which you opened the safe,&rdquo; he said coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had replaced the key in her pocket, and now sought it with a shaking
+      hand. She gave it to him without a word. Morally she would not acknowledge
+      herself beaten, and the bitterness of that moment was the self-contempt
+      with which she realized a physical cowardice which she had hitherto deemed
+      quite impossible. For the flesh is always surprised by its own weakness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen looked at the key critically, turning it over in order to
+      examine the workmanship. It was clumsily enough made, and he doubtless
+      guessed how she had obtained it. Then he glanced at her as she stood
+      breathless with a colourless face and compressed lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope I did not hurt you,&rdquo; he said quietly, thereby putting in a dim and
+      far-off claim to greatness, for it is hard not to triumph in absolute
+      victory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head with a twisted smile, and looked down at her hands,
+      which were still helpless. There were bands of bright red round the white
+      wrists. Her gloves lay on the table. She went towards them and numbly took
+      them up. He was impassive still, and his face, which had flushed a few
+      moments earlier, slowly regained its usual calm pallor. It was this very
+      calmness, perhaps, that suddenly incensed Mrs. Vansittart. Or it may have
+      been that she had regained her courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she cried, with a sort of break in her voice that made it strident&mdash;&ldquo;yes.
+      I am Karl Vansittart's wife, and I&mdash;cared for him. Do you know what
+      that means? But you can't. All that side of life is a closed book to such
+      as you. It means that if you had been a hundred times in the right and he
+      always in the wrong, I should still have believed in him and distrusted
+      you&mdash;should still have cared for him and hated you. But he was not
+      guilty. He was in the right and you were wrong&mdash;a thief and a
+      murderer, no doubt. And to screen your paltry name, you sacrificed Karl
+      and the happiness of two people who had just begun to be happy. It means
+      that I shall not rest until I have made you pay for what you have done. I
+      have never lost sight of you&mdash;and never shall&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and looked at his impassive face with a strange, dull
+      curiosity as she spoke of the future, as if wondering whether she had a
+      future or had reached the end of her life&mdash;here, at this moment, in
+      the little plank-walled office of the malgamite works. But her courage
+      rose steadily. It is only afar off that Death is terrible. When we
+      actually stand in his presence, we usually hold up our heads and face him
+      quietly enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have other enemies,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;I know you have&mdash;men,
+      too&mdash;but none of them will last so long as I shall, none of them is
+      to be feared as I am&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped again in a fury, for he was obviously waiting for her to pause
+      for mere want of breath, as if her words could be of no weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you fear anything on earth,&rdquo; she said, acknowledging is one merit
+      despite herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear you so little,&rdquo; he answered, going to the door and unlocking it,
+      &ldquo;that you may go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her whip lay on the table. He picked it up and handed it to her, gravely,
+      without a bow, without a shade of triumph or the smallest suspicion of
+      sarcasm. There was perhaps the nucleus of a great man in Otto von Holzen,
+      after all, for there was no smallness in his mind. He opened the door, and
+      stood aside for her to pass out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not because you do not fear me&mdash;that you let me go,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Vansittart. &ldquo;But&mdash;because you are afraid of Tony Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she went out, wondering whether the shot had told or missed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A COMBINED FORCE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Hear, but be faithful to your interest still.
+      Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart walked to the gate of the malgamite works, thinking that
+      Von Holzen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate, which the
+      porter threw open on seeing her approach, she turned and found that she
+      was alone. Von Holzen was walking quietly back towards the factory. He was
+      so busy making his fortune that he could not give Mrs. Vansittart more
+      than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went towards her horse. Neglect
+      is no balm to the wounds of the defeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five o'clock,
+      and Percy Roden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat. It is a
+      woman's business to know what is expected of her. Mrs. Vansittart recalled
+      in a very matter-of-fact way the wording of her letter to Roden. She
+      brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure that her hair was tidy.
+      Then she fell into deep thought, and set her mind in a like order for the
+      work that lay before her. A man's deepest schemes in love are child's play
+      beside the woman's schemes that meet or frustrate his own. Mrs. Vansittart
+      rode rapidly home to Park Straat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the
+      drawing-room. She walked slowly upstairs. Some victories are only to be
+      won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Vansittart's mind was warped, or
+      she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her revenge.
+      She was sacrificing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said to Roden, whose manner betrayed the recollection of her
+      invitation to him, &ldquo;so I have kept you waiting&mdash;a minute, perhaps,
+      for each day that you have stayed away from Park Straat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden laughed, with a shade of embarrassment, which she was quick to
+      detect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it your sister,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;who has induced you to stay away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her
+      gloves and turning towards the tea-table. She spoke quietly and rather
+      indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social grade.
+      &ldquo;I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know something of your&mdash;what
+      is he?&mdash;your foreman. He has probably warned you against me. My
+      husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I believe, robbed by him.
+      We never knew the man socially, and I have always suspected that he bore
+      us some ill feeling on that account. You remember&mdash;in this room, when
+      you brought him to call soon after your works were built&mdash;that he
+      referred to having met my husband. Doubtless with a view to finding out
+      how much I knew, or if I was in reality the wife of Charles Vansittart.
+      But I did not choose to enlighten him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were unsteady still, and
+      she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discoloration of her
+      wrist. She turned rather suddenly, and saw on Roden's face the confession
+      that it had been due to Von Holzen's influence that he had absented
+      himself from her drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if
+      dismissing a subject of small importance&mdash;&ldquo;however, I suppose Herr
+      von Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons
+      in that trying condition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit.
+      Roden's slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one
+      may be sure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me your news,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You look tired and ill. It is hard work
+      making one's fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before
+      you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth while
+      to have worked so hard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps what I want is not to be bought,&rdquo; he said, with his eyes on the
+      carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Then it must be either worthless or priceless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to detect
+      the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of the tired
+      eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a financier, and women have no
+      use for such cleverness, only for the results of it. Roden was conscious
+      of making no progress with Mrs. Vansittart, who handled him as a cat
+      handles a disabled mouse while watching another hole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been busier than ever, I suppose,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;since you have had
+      no time to remember your friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most
+      absorbing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is
+      capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Yes,
+      we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day now. And
+      we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect it. Von
+      Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says anything. He
+      may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Vansittart, but he is a wonderful man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferently; and something in her manner
+      made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for associating
+      himself with a person who, as she had subtly and flatteringly hinted more
+      than once, was far beneath him from a social point of view. This desire
+      rendered him less guarded than it was perhaps wise to be under the
+      circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he is a very clever man&mdash;a genius, I think. He rises to each
+      difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of his
+      foresight. He has done more than you think in the malgamite works. His
+      share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only the
+      financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and about&mdash;money&mdash;how
+      it should be handled&mdash;that is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too modest, I think,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, gravely. &ldquo;You forget
+      that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;while Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult
+      task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It
+      would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders,
+      like other people.&rdquo; And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his moustache,
+      smiled a somewhat fatuous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a woman will
+      love a man the more for being a good man of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should like Von Holzen to have his due,&rdquo; said Roden, rather
+      grandly. &ldquo;He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes that except
+      perhaps Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cornish does his best to upset Von Holzen's plans at every turn. He does
+      not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into business
+      he invariably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he calls scruples.
+      It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to it.&rdquo; Roden spoke
+      rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and disliked Mrs.
+      Vansittart's attitude towards Cornish. &ldquo;But he is no match for Von
+      Holzen,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;as he will find to his cost. Von Holzen is not the
+      sort of man to stand any kind of interference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah?&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart again, in the slightly questioning and
+      indifferent manner with which she received all defence of Otto von Holzen,
+      and which had the effect of urging Roden to further explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not a man I should care to cross myself,&rdquo; he said, determined to
+      secure Mrs. Vansittart's full attention. &ldquo;He has the whole of the
+      malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty powerful, I can tell you.
+      They are a desperate set of fellows; men engaged in a dangerous industry
+      do not wear kid gloves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea-table; for Roden
+      rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he
+      perhaps suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, rather more indifferently than before, &ldquo;I think you
+      exaggerate Herr von Holzen's importance in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is not
+      careful,&rdquo; retorted Roden, half sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced sharply
+      at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid of Von
+      Holzen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared. There are
+      periods in every man's history when human affairs suddenly appear to
+      become unmanageable and the course of events gets beyond any sort of
+      control&mdash;when the hand at the helm falters, and even the managing
+      female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have reached such a
+      crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart; charm she never so wisely, could not
+      brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in no mood for
+      love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humour, as a woman can,
+      when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many things, both glancing at
+      the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were not the first man and woman
+      to go hunting Cupid with the best will in the world&mdash;only to draw a
+      blank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements. Physically
+      and morally he seemed to want tightening up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go back to the works,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We work late to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been,&rdquo; replied Mrs.
+      Vansittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold, with a gravity
+      and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, &ldquo;I do not want you to
+      discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he went
+      downstairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him she
+      rang sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The brougham,&rdquo; she said to the servant, &ldquo;at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa des
+      Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely obscuring
+      the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight. Indeed, nature itself
+      appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the town behind and
+      emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the countless sparrows in the
+      lime-trees were preparing for the night. The trees themselves were
+      shedding an evening odour, while, from canal and dyke and ditch, there
+      arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass which hangs over the whole
+      of Holland all night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The place smells of calamity,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to herself, as she
+      quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the Villa
+      des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy was in the garden, and, seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she
+      usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said rapidly, taking Dorothy's hand, and holding it&mdash;&ldquo;come
+      to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we
+      dined alone together. I do not want to go indoors. I am nervous, I
+      suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in the
+      dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants, so I
+      came to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think there is going to be a thunderstorm,&rdquo; said Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sudden laugh. &ldquo;I knew you would say that.
+      Because you are modern and practical&mdash;or, at all events, you show a
+      practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that much
+      for the modern girl, at all events&mdash;she keeps her head. As to her
+      heart&mdash;well, perhaps she has not got one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a
+      weeping-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs.
+      Vansittart glanced at her companion, and gave a little, low, wise laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did well to come to you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;for you have not many words. You
+      have a sense of humour&mdash;that saving sense which so few people possess&mdash;and
+      I suspect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic, which is still
+      there, but in a modified degree. One is always more nervous for one's
+      friends than for one's self. Is it not so? It is for Tony Cornish that I
+      fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short
+      silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know why he stays in Holland, and I wish he would go home,&rdquo;
+       continued Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;It is unreasoning, I know, and foolish, but I
+      am convinced that he is running into danger.&rdquo; She stopped suddenly, and
+      laid her hand upon Dorothy's; for she had caught many foreign ways and
+      gestures. &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; she said, in a lower tone. &ldquo;It is useless for you and
+      me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime, and Tony
+      Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected that. I
+      know Otto von Holzen. He killed my husband. He is a most dangerous man. He
+      is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from here, and he does not
+      understand the sort of person he is dealing with. One does not frighten
+      persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man or woman. I have made
+      Tony promise not to leave his room to-day. For to-morrow I cannot answer.
+      You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with a sudden light in her eyes, &ldquo;I understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother must take care of himself. I care nothing for Lord Ferriby,
+      or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish, for whom I
+      have an affection, for he was part of my past life&mdash;when I was happy.
+      As for the malgamiters, they and their works may&mdash;go hang!&rdquo; And Mrs.
+      Vansittart snapped her fingers. &ldquo;Do you know Major White?&rdquo; she asked
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I have seen him once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So have I&mdash;only once. But for a woman once is often enough&mdash;is
+      it not so?&mdash;to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is coming,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;I think he is coming to-morrow. When I
+      saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe he
+      wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking him
+      to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent for
+      reinforcements. When does Major White arrive&mdash;in the morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; not till the evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he comes by Flushing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. &ldquo;You are
+      thinking of something. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;I was wondering how I could see some of the malgamite workers
+to-morrow. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may
+be expected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple
+to make use of them.&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;you have guessed that, too. I have more
+than guessed it&mdash;I know it. You must see these men to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I came to
+      the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other,
+      perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good night and come to lunch with me
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. GRATITUDE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;On se guérit de la bienfaisance par la connaissance de ceux
+     qu'on oblige.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you tell me if there is a moon to-night?&rdquo; Mrs. Vansittart asked a
+      porter in the railway station at The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was a
+      serious one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady,&rdquo; he answered, with his
+      hand at the peak of his cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was past nine o'clock, and Mrs. Vansittart had been waiting nearly half
+      an hour for the Flushing train. Her carriage was walking slowly up and
+      down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station. She
+      had taken a ticket in order to gain access to the platform, and was almost
+      alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled backwards and forwards
+      between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the great arch of
+      the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month of June still
+      lingered, but the twilight was at hand. The Flushing train was late
+      to-night of all nights; and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her foot with
+      impatience. What was worse was Dorothy Roden's lateness. Dorothy and Mrs.
+      Vansittart, like two generals on the eve of a battle, had been exchanging
+      hurried notes all day; and Dorothy had promised to meet Mrs. Vansittart at
+      the station on the arrival of the train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The moon is rising now, my lady&mdash;a half-moon,&rdquo; said the porter
+      approaching with that leisureliness which characterizes railway porters
+      between trains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why does your stupid train not come?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, with
+      unreasoning anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been signalled, my lady; a few minutes now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief, and turned on her heel. She
+      had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw Dorothy
+      coming up the slope to the platform. At last matters were taking a turn
+      for the better&mdash;except, indeed, Dorothy's face, which was set and
+      white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found out something,&rdquo; she said at once, and speaking quickly but
+      steadily. &ldquo;It is for to-night, between half-past nine and ten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had her watch in her hand, and compared it quickly with the station
+      clock as she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have secured Uncle Ben,&rdquo; she said&mdash;all the ridicule of the name
+      seemed to have vanished long ago. &ldquo;He is drunk, and therefore cunning. It
+      is only when he is sober that he is stupid. I have him in a cab
+      downstairs, and have told your man to watch him. I have been to Mr.
+      Cornish's rooms again, and he has not come in. He has not been in since
+      morning, and they do not know where he is. No one knows where he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy's lip quivered for a moment, and she held it with her teeth. Mrs.
+      Vansittart touched her arm lightly with her gloved fingers&mdash;a
+      strange, quick, woman's gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went upstairs to his rooms,&rdquo; continued Dorothy. &ldquo;It is no good thinking
+      of etiquette now or pretending&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never
+      finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket. One
+      in an uneducated hand&mdash;perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von
+      Holzen's writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing&mdash;addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at
+      Scheveningen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then Otto von Holzen knows where Tony is staying, at all events. We have
+      learnt something. You have kept the envelopes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They both turned at the rumble of the train outside the station. The great
+      engine came clanking in over the points, its lamp glaring like the eye of
+      some monster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Provided Major White is in the train,&rdquo; muttered Mrs. Vansittart, tapping
+      on the pavement with her foot. &ldquo;If he is not in the train, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we must go alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a brave woman,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small things
+      as well as in great. They saw him pushing his way patiently through the
+      crowd of hotel porters and others who had advice or their services to
+      offer him. Then he saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and recognized them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it straight
+      to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Major White was only in his normal condition of mild and patient
+      surprise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart once, and Dorothy as often. He
+      did exactly as he was told without asking one of those hundred questions
+      which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more women under
+      such circumstances, and followed the ladies out of the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must talk here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;One cannot do so in a carriage
+      in the streets of The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White bowed gravely, and looked from one to the other. He was rather
+      travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to the
+      malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question, however,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be impatient with this
+      placid man. &ldquo;He has earned the enmity of Otto von Holzen&mdash;a man who
+      will stop at nothing&mdash;and the malgamiters are being raised against
+      him by Von Holzen. Our information is very vague, but we are almost
+      certain that an attempt is to be made on Tony's life to-night between
+      half-past nine and ten. You understand?&rdquo; Mrs. Vansittart almost stamped
+      her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; answered White, looking at the station clock. &ldquo;Twenty minutes'
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have the information from one of the malgamiters themselves, who knows
+      the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage outside the
+      station.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How tipsy?&rdquo; asked Major White; and both his hearers shrugged their
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can we tell you that?&rdquo; snapped Mrs. Vansittart; and Major White
+      dropped his glass from his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your brother?&rdquo; he said, turning to Dorothy. He was evidently
+      rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick-spoken person not likely to
+      have patience with a slow man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone to Utrecht,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;And Mr. von Holzen is not at
+      the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a lucky
+      chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White looked at Dorothy thoughtfully, and something in his gaze made her
+      change colour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see this man,&rdquo; he said, moving towards the exit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is in that carriage,&rdquo; said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet
+      corner of the station yard. &ldquo;You must be quick. We have only a quarter of
+      an hour now. He is an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, and
+      closed the door after him. In a few moments he emerged again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell the man to drive to a chemist's,&rdquo; he said to Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;The
+      fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will get more.
+      Follow in your carriage&mdash;you and Miss Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Major White's turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart meekly
+      obeyed, though White's movements were so leisurely as to madden her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the chemist's shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared to
+      have some language in common with the druggist, for he presently returned
+      to the carriage, carrying a tumbler. After a moment he went to the window
+      of Mrs. Vansittart's neat brougham.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must bring him in here,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have a pair of horses which look
+      as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station on the
+      Dunes, wherever that may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben, whom he brought by one arm, in a
+      dislocated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the major's long
+      stride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart's coachman must have received very decided orders, for he
+      skirted the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from the streets
+      into the quiet of the Wood, which was dark and deserted. Here, in a sandy
+      and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The carriage swayed and
+      bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time to time Major White
+      shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his strenuous treatment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the little
+      bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
+      pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
+      dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
+      hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye, and
+      looked round him with a measuring glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This place will be as light as day,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;when the moon rises from
+      behind those trees.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low voice.
+      The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not stand without
+      assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of heroic measures. He
+      appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben pointed from time to
+      time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When his mind, muddled with
+      malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the occasion, Major White shook him
+      like a sack. After a few minutes' conversation, Ben broke down completely,
+      and sat against a sand-bank to weep. Major White left him there, and went
+      towards the ladies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell your man,&rdquo; he said to Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;to drive back to
+      the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?&rdquo; He paused,
+      looking dubiously from one to the other. &ldquo;And you and Miss Roden had
+      better go back with him and stay in the carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Dorothy, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; added Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration for
+      the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy
+      stones, &ldquo;that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly
+      ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to
+      work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the works
+      at ten o'clock, when Roden is at Utrecht, and Von Holzen is out. There is
+      no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to lie in ambush
+      in a hollow of the Dunes, and knock him on the head about half a mile from
+      here north-east.&rdquo; And Major White paused in this great conversational
+      effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his watch-chain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two women waited patiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine place, these Dunes,&rdquo; said the major, after a pause. &ldquo;Could conceal
+      three thousand men between here and Scheveningen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is not a question of hiding soldiers,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart,
+      sharply, with a movement of the head indicative of supreme contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; admitted White. &ldquo;Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing
+      here where everybody can see us. I'll fetch our friend. Think he'll sleep
+      if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But haven't you any plans?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, in despair. &ldquo;What are
+      you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony Cornish?
+      Surely you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know,&rdquo; answered White, soothingly, as
+      he moved away towards Uncle Ben. &ldquo;But I think I know how this business
+      ought to be managed. Come along&mdash;hide ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He led the way across the dunes, dragging Uncle Ben by one arm, and
+      keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent
+      sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once Major White paused and looked back. &ldquo;Don't talk,&rdquo; he said, holding up
+      a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning, which he must have
+      learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a bogey
+      in the chimney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once or twice he consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his compass.
+      There was a certain skill in his attitude and demeanour, as if he knew
+      exactly what he was about. Mrs. Vansittart had a hundred questions to ask
+      him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly over the distant
+      trees and flooded all the sand-hills with light. Major White halted his
+      little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben in whispers. Then
+      bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in their hiding-place, and
+      went away by himself. He climbed almost to the summit of a neighbouring
+      mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face uplifted, as if smelling
+      something. Like many short-sighted persons, he had a keen scent. In a few
+      minutes he came back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found them,&rdquo; he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy. &ldquo;Smelt
+      'em&mdash;like sealing-wax. Eleven of them&mdash;waiting there for
+      Cornish.&rdquo; And he smiled with a sort of boyish glee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do?&rdquo; whispered Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thump them,&rdquo; he answered, and presently went back to his post of
+      observation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side waiting
+      in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from the sea.
+      Dorothy shivered. They could hear certain notes of certain instruments in
+      the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles away. It was
+      strange to be within sound of such evidences of civilization, and yet in
+      such a lonely spot&mdash;strange to reflect that eleven men were waiting
+      within a few yards of them to murder one. And yet they could safely have
+      carried out their intention, and have scraped a hole in the sand to hide
+      his body, in the certainty that it would never be found; for these dunes
+      are a miniature desert of Sahara, where nothing bids men leave the beaten
+      paths, where certain hollows have probably never been trodden by the foot
+      of man, and where the ever-drifting sand slowly accumulates&mdash;a very
+      abomination of desolation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow of
+      the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy
+      ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the
+      malgamiters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden
+      from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittart's arm, and pointed silently in the
+      direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the
+      silvery sand-hills. It was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere
+      habit acquired among his men, he moistened the tips of his fingers at his
+      lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a
+      position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which Cornish
+      must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a mound, and
+      evidently reporting progress to his companions below. When Cornish was
+      within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up the bank, and
+      lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his comrades. He followed
+      this vigorous attack by charging down into the confused mass. In a few
+      moments the malgamiters streamed away across the sand-hills like a pack of
+      hounds, though pursued and not pursuing. They left some of their number on
+      the sand behind them, for White was a hard hitter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to them, Tony!&rdquo; White cried, with a ring of exultation in his
+      voice. &ldquo;Knock 'em down as they come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For there was only one path, and the malgamiters had to run the gauntlet
+      of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough as they
+      passed, selecting the big ones, and letting the others go free. He knew
+      them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention readily
+      enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it,
+      breathless and eager.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I wish I were a man!&rdquo; exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched fists.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path.
+      White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round his
+      arm with his other hand and his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One of the devils had a knife. Must get my
+      sleeve mended to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Prends moy telle que je suy.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning, he
+      found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun and
+      the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the verandah made him
+      look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by sunshine and
+      trees, was Marguerite Wade, in a white dress, with demure lips, and the
+      complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of youth&mdash;of that
+      spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the strings of older
+      hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which is really and
+      honestly worth the living.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major White's left
+      eyebrow quivered for a moment in indication of his usual mild surprise at
+      life and its changing surface.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feeling pretty&mdash;bobbish?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White's eyebrow went right up and his glass fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fairly bobbish, thank you,&rdquo; he answered, looking at her with stupendous
+      gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look all right, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should never judge by appearances,&rdquo; said White, with a fatherly
+      severity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite pursed up her lips, and looked his stalwart frame up and down
+      in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential manner,
+      like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all the truth
+      and more than the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I knew
+      you were in the hotel; saw your boots outside your door last night; knew
+      they must be yours. You went to bed very early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have two pairs of boots,&rdquo; replied the major, darkly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote for
+      him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came. I told
+      you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and that seems
+      to be precisely where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so I have come over, and papa and I are going to put things
+      straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't if I were you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shouldn't what?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shouldn't put other people's affairs straight. It does not pay,
+      especially if other people happen to be up a gum-tree&mdash;make yourself
+      all sticky, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That's what&mdash;is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what,&rdquo; admitted Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the difference, I suppose, between a man and a woman,&rdquo; said
+      Marguerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid
+      for two. &ldquo;A man looks on at things going&mdash;well, to the dogs&mdash;and
+      smokes and thinks it isn't his business. A woman thinks the whole world is
+      her business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is, in a sense&mdash;it is her doing, at all events.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had turned to beckon to the waiter, and she paused to look back
+      over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said mystically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him &ldquo;Kellner,&rdquo; and
+      speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his
+      native tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have told him,&rdquo; she explained to White, &ldquo;to bring your little
+      coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to this
+      table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I understood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Then you know German?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful
+      glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver
+      basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so
+      different and taste so much alike.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; she said confidentially, &ldquo;that you know more than you
+      appear to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not such a fool as I look, in fact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is about the size of it,&rdquo; admitted Marguerite, gravely. &ldquo;Tony always
+      says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he is right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across the
+      little table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony often is right,&rdquo; said Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small
+      coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt. The
+      privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a certain
+      pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why is Tony so fond of The Hague? Who is Mrs. Vansittart?&rdquo; she asked,
+      without looking up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few minutes
+      before answering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two questions don't make an answer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not these two questions?&rdquo; asked Marguerite, with a sudden laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, and what they usually call
+      'charming,' I believe. She is clever, yes, very clever, and she was, I
+      suppose, fond of Vansittart; and that is the whole story, I take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly a cheery story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No true stories are,&rdquo; returned the major, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdom&mdash;that huge wisdom of
+      life as seen from the threshold&mdash;she did not believe Mrs.
+      Vansittart's story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the
+      end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps Mrs.
+      Vansittart&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won't do that,&rdquo; said the major, staring in a stupid way out of the window
+      with vacant, short-sighted eyes. &ldquo;Not even if Tony suggested it&mdash;which
+      he won't do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittart&mdash;that
+      is what <i>you</i> mean,&rdquo; said Marguerite, condescendingly. &ldquo;Then why does
+      he stay in The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence,
+      broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for
+      more bread and more butter. She looked at her companion once or twice, and
+      it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must be as
+      dense as he looked. It is a mistake that many of her sex have made
+      regarding men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know Miss Roden?&rdquo; she asked suddenly. &ldquo;I have heard a good deal
+      about her from Joan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she pretty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very pretty?&rdquo; persisted Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they continued their breakfast in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite appeared to have something to think about. Major White was in
+      the habit of stating that he never thought, and certainly appearances bore
+      him out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father is late,&rdquo; he said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. &ldquo;Because he was afraid to
+      ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that
+      Continental chambermaids always burst into your room if you ring the bell,
+      whether the door is locked or not. He is nothing if not respectable, poor
+      old dear&mdash;would give points to any bishop in the land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she spoke her father came into the room, looking, as his daughter had
+      stated eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major White,
+      and seemed pleased to see him. The major was, in truth, a man after his
+      own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade belonged to
+      a solid generation that liked the andante of life to be played in good
+      heavy chords, and looked with suspicious eyes upon brilliancy of execution
+      or lightness of touch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had a note from Cornish,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who suggests a meeting at this
+      hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side has, it
+      appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to The Hague.&rdquo; There had in
+      Mr. Wade's life usually been that &ldquo;other side,&rdquo; which he had treated with
+      a good, honest respect so long as they proved themselves worthy of it; but
+      which he crushed the moment they forgot themselves. For there was in this
+      British banker a vast spirit of honest, open antagonism by which he and
+      his likes have built up a scattered empire on this planet. &ldquo;At three
+      o'clock,&rdquo; he concluded, lifting the cover of a silver dish which
+      Marguerite had sent back to the kitchen awaiting her father's arrival.
+      &ldquo;And what will you do, my dear?&rdquo; he said, turning to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. &ldquo;I shall take a
+      carriage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes to see Dorothy Roden. I
+      have a note for her from Joan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way diminished
+      by the knowledge that the &ldquo;other side&rdquo; were about to take action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At three o'clock the carriage was awaiting Marguerite at the door of the
+      hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking
+      questions and absolutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen by
+      the side of the &ldquo;Queen's Canal.&rdquo; When at length she turned to get in, Tony
+      Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for The Hague
+      is the shadiest city in the world, with forest trees growing amid its
+      great houses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Marguerite, holding out her hand. &ldquo;You see, I have come across
+      to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have rather a
+      spree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The spree,&rdquo; replied Cornish, with his light laugh, &ldquo;has already begun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite drove away towards The Hague Wood, and disappeared among the
+      transparent green shadows of that wonderful forest. The man had been
+      instructed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden Road,
+      making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest outskirts
+      of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of a man
+      sitting upon a bench at the roadside reading a sheet of paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; she said to herself, &ldquo;is the Herr Professor&mdash;but I cannot
+      remember his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed, a woman usually stops
+      an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed to let
+      such bygones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive back again.
+      The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed. He had the air
+      of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the solitude of his
+      position and the poetic surroundings which he had selected. A German, be
+      it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of the beauties of nature, and
+      would rather drink his beer before a fine outlook than in a comfortable
+      chair indoors. When Marguerite returned, this man looked up again with the
+      absorbed air of one repeating something in his mind. When he perceived
+      that she was undoubtedly coming towards himself, he stood up and took off
+      his hat. He was a small, square-built man, with upright hair turning to
+      grey, and a quiet, thoughtful, clean-shaven face. His attitude, and indeed
+      his person, dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the
+      great Napoleon. His measuring glance&mdash;as if the eyes were weighing
+      the face it looked upon&mdash;distinctly suggested his great prototype.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not remember me, Herr Professor,&rdquo; said Marguerite, holding out her
+      hand with a frank laugh. &ldquo;You have forgotten Dresden and the chemistry
+      classes at Fräulein Weber's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Fräulein; I remember those classes,&rdquo; the professor answered, with a
+      grave bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the
+      something of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fräulein. Yes, I remember
+      now&mdash;Fräulein Wade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am Marguerite Wade,&rdquo; she answered, looking at him with a little
+      frown, &ldquo;but I can't remember your name. You were always Herr Professor.
+      And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry classes,
+      you know; that was part of the&mdash;er&mdash;trick. We called water H2 or
+      something like that. We called you J.H.U, Herr Professor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that mean, Fräulein?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jolly hard up,&rdquo; returned Marguerite, with a laugh which suddenly gave
+      place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confidential gravity. &ldquo;You were
+      poor then, mein Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always been poor, Fräulein, until now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Marguerite's mind had already flown to other things. She was looking
+      at him again with a frown of concentration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am beginning to remember your name,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite
+      forgotten both your face and your name, Herr ... Herr ... von Holz&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      broke off, and stepped back from him&mdash;&ldquo;von Holzen,&rdquo; she said slowly.
+      &ldquo;Then you are the malgamite man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Fräulein,&rdquo; he answered, with his grave smile; &ldquo;I am the malgamite
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of the
+      Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that came
+      near him, against whom her own father and Tony Cornish and Major White and
+      Mrs. Vansittart had been able to do nothing&mdash;who in face of all
+      opposition continued calmly to make malgamite, and sell it daily to the
+      world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of men's lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, Fräulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade, the banker?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again,
+      standing before her master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why are you in The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her
+      life, &ldquo;to enlarge our minds, mein Herr.&rdquo; She was looking at the paper he
+      held in his hand, and he saw the direction of her glance. In response, he
+      laughed quietly, and held it out towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the
+      prescription for the manufacture of malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual
+      audacity, she opened it and began to read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is in Hebrew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which she
+      gave to him. She was not afraid of the man&mdash;but she was very near to
+      fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sitting here, quietly under the trees, Fräulein,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;learning it by heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Un homme sérieux est celui qui se croit regardé.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden's earnest desire that he
+      should go to The Hague, he was conscious of conferring a distinct favour
+      upon the Low Countries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not a place one would choose to go to at this time of year,&rdquo; he
+      said to a friend at the club. &ldquo;In the winter, it is different; for the
+      season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the numerous advantages attached to an hereditary title is the
+      certainty that a hearer of some sort or another will always be
+      forthcoming. A commoner finds himself snubbed or quietly abandoned so soon
+      as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and platitudes is
+      sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready and
+      willing to be bored by a lord. A high-class club is, moreover, a very
+      mushroom-bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have traveled quite a
+      distance down the road of life, without finding out that it is bordered on
+      either side by a series of small events not worth commenting upon, meet to
+      discuss trivialities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Truth is,&rdquo; said his lordship to one of these persons, &ldquo;this Malgamite
+      scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and carries
+      with it certain responsibilities&mdash;yes, certain responsibilities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he assumed a grave air of importance almost amounting to worry. For
+      Lord Ferriby did not know that a worried look is an almost certain
+      indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the
+      greatest responsibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the
+      burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at all
+      uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one of the
+      advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and willing to
+      serve his party without too minute a scruple. For if the king can do no
+      wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity from criticism,
+      and those who have allowance made to them must inevitably learn to make
+      allowance for themselves. Lord Ferriby was, in a word, too self-satisfied
+      to harbour any doubts respecting his own conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of
+      course, indolence in disguise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was easy enough for Lord Ferriby to persuade himself that Cornish was
+      wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most
+      gentlemanly manner possible, paid a cheque, not to Lord Ferriby direct,
+      but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus upon
+      the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There are many
+      people in the world who will accept money so long as their delicate
+      susceptibilities are not offended by an actual sight of the cheque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anthony Cornish,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, pulling down his waistcoat, &ldquo;like
+      many men who have had neither training nor experience, does not quite
+      understand the ethics of commerce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship, like others, seemed to understand these to mean that a man
+      may take anything that his neighbour is fool enough to part with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because, in the great
+      march of social progress, she had passed on from charity to sanitation,
+      and was convinced that the mortality among the malgamiters, which had been
+      more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was entirely due to the
+      negligence of the victims in not using an old disinfectant served up in
+      artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash under another
+      name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform greater sanitary
+      wonders, because the world places faith in a new name, and faith is still
+      the greatest healer of human ills.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan, therefore, proposed to carry to The Hague the glad tidings of the
+      sanitary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering
+      world under the name of &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; in small bottles, at the price of one
+      shilling and a penny halfpenny. The penny halfpenny, no doubt, represented
+      the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon securing the
+      stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the manufacturer's
+      pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joan's world to smell of
+      &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; which could also be had in the sweetest little blue tabloids, to
+      place in the wardrobe and among one's clean clothes. Joan had given Major
+      White a box of these tabloids, which gift had been accepted with becoming
+      gravity. Indeed, the major seemed never to tire of hearing Joan's
+      exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as she urged him to use
+      &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; in its various forms, and it was only when he heard that
+      cigar-holders made of &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; absorbed all the deleterious properties of
+      tobacco that his stout heart failed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he pleaded, &ldquo;but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue
+      cigar-holder, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none
+      other than &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; dentifrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to The Hague, his lordship in
+      the full conviction (enjoyed by so many useless persons) that his presence
+      was in itself of beneficial effect upon the course of events, and Joan
+      with her &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; and, in a minor degree now, her &ldquo;Malgamiters&rdquo; and her
+      &ldquo;Haberdashers' Assistants.&rdquo; Lady Ferriby preferred to remain at Cambridge
+      Terrace, chiefly because it was cheaper, and also because the cook
+      required a holiday, and, with a kitchen-maid only, she could indulge in
+      her greatest pleasure&mdash;a useless economy. The cook refused to starve
+      her fellow-servants, while the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written
+      character in the future, did as her ladyship bade her&mdash;hashing and
+      mincing in a manner quite irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer
+      money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White met the travellers at The Hague station, and Joan, who had had
+      some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was conscious for
+      the first time of a sense of orderliness and rest in the presence of the
+      stout soldier, who seemed to walk heavily over difficulties when they
+      arose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh&mdash;er,&rdquo; began his lordship, as they walked down the platform, &ldquo;have
+      you seen anything of Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred a man to b keenly observant, and had
+      as yet failed to detect Von Holzen behind and overshadowing his partner in
+      the Malgamite scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;cannot say I have,&rdquo; replied the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had never discussed the malgamite affairs with Lord Ferriby. Discussion
+      was, indeed, a pastime in which the major never indulged. His position in
+      the matter was clearly enough defined, but he had no intention of
+      explaining why it was that he ranged himself stolidly on Cornish's side in
+      the differences that had arisen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a smouldering antagonism, but knew the
+      major sufficiently well not to fear an outbreak of hostilities. Men who
+      will face opposition may be divided into two classes&mdash;the one taking
+      its stand upon a conscious rectitude, the other half-hiding with the cheap
+      and transparent cunning of the ostrich. Many men, also, are in the
+      fortunate condition of believing themselves to be invariably right unless
+      they are told quite plainly that they are wrong. And there was nobody to
+      tell Lord Ferriby this. Cornish, with a sort of respect for the head of
+      the family&mdash;a regard for the office irrespective of its holder&mdash;was
+      so far from wishing to convince his uncle of error that he voluntarily
+      relinquished certain strong points in his position rather than strike a
+      blow that would inevitably reach Lord Ferriby, though directed towards
+      Roden or Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were in
+      The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A worthy man&mdash;a very worthy man,&rdquo; he said abstractedly; for he
+      looked upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain
+      minds by uncompromising honesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared for
+      them. There were flowers in Joan's room, which her maid said she had
+      rearranged, so awkwardly had they been placed in the vase. The Wades, it
+      appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not returning to
+      lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that meal at Mrs.
+      Vansittart's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;that I shall go down to the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, do,&rdquo; answered White, with an expressionless countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you will accompany me?&rdquo; suggested Joan's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;think not. Can't hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like
+      to see the Palace in the Wood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the malgamite works, and
+      murmured the word &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; without, however, much enthusiasm; but White
+      happened to remember that it was mixing-day. So Lord Ferriby went off
+      alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the first; for
+      White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no
+      doubt, satisfactory enough, for the manufacture of malgamite had been
+      proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Holzen had, as he told
+      Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-master. He
+      was not going to be poor again. The grey carts had been passing up and
+      down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or other
+      of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house, a gleam
+      of anger to Mrs. Vansittart's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The scoundrels!&rdquo; she muttered. &ldquo;The scoundrels! Why does not Tony act?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's
+      determination not to be frustrated, could not act&mdash;for Dorothy's
+      sake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party
+      assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and Mr.
+      Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in this
+      city of large and spotless windows. Dorothy and Cornish were talking
+      together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was supposed to be
+      looking at a book of photographs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There goes a consignment of men's lives,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to her
+      companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A human life, madam,&rdquo; answered the banker, &ldquo;like all else on earth,
+      varies much in value.&rdquo; For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of Englishmen
+      which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak its good
+      actions by the assumption of an unworthy motive. And who shall say that
+      this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us has not a few
+      friends and relations who can only have been created as a solemn warning?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined
+      them, slipping her hand within her father's arm with that air of
+      protection which she usually assumed towards him. She was gay and lively,
+      as she ever was, and Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her more than once with a
+      sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always understand
+      Marguerite or her English, which was essentially modern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly
+      drew them back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Lord Ferriby,&rdquo; replied Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great man
+      drive past in his hired carriage. &ldquo;He has recently bought Park Straat,&rdquo;
+       commented Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And his lordship's condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that the
+      street, if not the whole city, belonged to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb in the direction in which Lord
+      Ferriby was driving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he going?&rdquo; he asked bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the malgamite works,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance. And
+      Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I asked Major White,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to lunch with us to-day, but he was
+      pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see them
+      installed at their hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy,
+      allowed some moments to elapse before she again spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; she then observed, &ldquo;does not accompany Lord Ferriby to the
+      malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; replied Marguerite, demurely, &ldquo;has other fish to fry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be
+     entirely good.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden, who had been to Utrecht and Antwerp, arrived home on the
+      evening of the day that saw Lord Ferriby's advent to The Hague. Though the
+      day had been fine enough, the weather broke up at sunset, and great clouds
+      chased the sun towards the west. Then the rain came suddenly and swept
+      across the plains in a slanting fury. A cold wind from the south-east
+      followed hard upon the heavy clouds, and night came in a chaos of squall
+      and beating rain. Roden was drenched in his passage from the carriage to
+      the Villa des Dunes, which, being a summer residence, had not been
+      provided with a carriage-drive across the dunes from the road. He looked
+      at his sister with tired eyes when she met him in the entrance-hall. He
+      was worn and thinner than she had seen him in the days of his adversity,
+      for Percy Roden, like his partner, had made several false starts upon the
+      road to fortune before he got well away. Like many&mdash;like, indeed,
+      nearly all&mdash;who have to try again, he had lightened himself of a
+      scruple or so each time he turned back. Prosperity, however, seems to kill
+      as many as adversity. Abundant wealth is a vexation of spirit to-day as
+      surely as it was in the time of that wise man who, having tried it, said
+      that a stranger eateth it, and it is vanity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beastly night,&rdquo; said Roden, and that was all. He had been to Antwerp on
+      banking business, and had that sleepless look which brings a glitter to
+      the eyes. This was a man handling great sums of money. &ldquo;Von Holzen been
+      here to-day?&rdquo; he asked, when he had changed his clothes, and they were
+      seated at the dinner-table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with her eyes on his plate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was eating little, and drank only mineral water from a stone bottle. He
+      was like an athlete in training, though the strain he sought to meet was
+      mental and not physical. He shivered more than once, and glanced sharply
+      at the door when the maid happened to leave it open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Dorothy went to the drawing-room she lighted the fire, which was
+      ready laid, and of wood. Although it was nearly midsummer, the air was
+      chilly, and the rain beat against the thin walls of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think it probable,&rdquo; Roden had said, before she left the dining-room,
+      &ldquo;that Von Holzen will come in this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down before the fire, which burnt briskly, and looked into it with
+      thoughtful, clever grey eyes. Percy thought it probable that Von Holzen
+      would come to the Villa des Dunes this evening. Would he come? For Percy
+      knew nothing of the organized attempt on Cornish's life which she herself
+      had frustrated. He seemed to know nothing of the grim and silent
+      antagonism that existed between the two men, shutting his eyes to their
+      movements, which were like the movements of chess-players that the
+      onlooker sees but does not understand. Dorothy knew that Von Holzen was
+      infinitely cleverer than her brother. She knew, indeed, that he was
+      cleverer than most men. With the quickness of her sex, she had long ago
+      divined the source and basis of his strength. He was indifferent to women&mdash;who
+      formed no part of his life, who entered in no way into his plans or
+      ambitions. Being a woman, she should, theoretically, have disliked and
+      despised him for this. As a matter of fact, the characteristic commanded
+      her respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She knew that her brother was not in Von Holzen's confidence. It was
+      probable that no man on earth had ever come within measurable distance of
+      that. He would, in all likelihood, hear nothing of the attempt to kill
+      Cornish, and Cornish himself would be the last to mention it. For she knew
+      that her lover was a match for Von Holzen, and more than a match. She had
+      never doubted that. It was a part of her creed. A woman never really loves
+      a man until she has made him the object of a creed. And it is only the man
+      himself who can&mdash;and in the long run usually does&mdash;make it
+      impossible for her to adhere to her belief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was still sitting and thinking over the fire when her brother came
+      into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said at the sight of the fire, and came forward, holding out his
+      hands to the blaze. He looked down at his sister with glittering and
+      unsteady eyes. He was in a dangerous humour&mdash;a humour for
+      explanations and admissions&mdash;to which weak natures sometimes give
+      way. And, looking at the matter practically and calmly, explanations and
+      admissions are better left&mdash;to the hereafter. But Von Holzen saved
+      him by ringing the front-door bell at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The professor came into the room a minute later. He stood in the doorway,
+      and bowed in the stiff German way to Dorothy. With Roden he exchanged a
+      curt nod. His hair was glued to his temples by the rain, which gleamed on
+      his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an abominable night,&rdquo; he said, coming forward. &ldquo;Ach, Fräulein,
+      please do not leave us&mdash;and the fire,&rdquo; he added; for Dorothy had
+      risen. &ldquo;I merely came to make sure that he had arrived safely home.&rdquo; He
+      took the chair offered to him by Roden, and sat on it without bringing it
+      forward. He had but little of that self-assurance which is so highly
+      cultivated to-day as to be almost offensive. &ldquo;There are, of course,
+      matters of business,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;which can wait till to-morrow. To-night
+      you are tired.&rdquo; He looked at Roden as a doctor may look at a patient. &ldquo;Is
+      it not so, Fräulein?&rdquo; he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Except one or two&mdash;which we may discuss now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and glanced at him. He was looking at her, and their eyes
+      met for a moment. He seemed to see something in her face that made him
+      thoughtful, for he remained silent for some time, while he wiped the rain
+      from his face with his pocket-handkerchief. It was a pale, determined
+      face, which could hardly fail to impress those with whom he came in
+      contact as the face of a strong man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Ferriby has been at the works to-day,&rdquo; he said; and then, with a
+      gesture of the hands and a shrug, he described Lord Ferriby as a
+      nonentity. &ldquo;He went through the works, and looked over your books. I wrote
+      out a sort of certificate of his satisfaction with both, and&mdash;he
+      signed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden was leaning forward over the fire with a cigarette between his lips.
+      He nodded shortly. &ldquo;Good,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday,&rdquo; continued Von Holzen, &ldquo;I met an old acquaintance&mdash;a Miss
+      Wade&mdash;one of the young ladies of a Pensionnat at Dresden, in which I
+      taught at one time. She is a daughter of the banker Wade, and told me,
+      reluctantly, that she is at The Hague with her father&mdash;a friend of
+      Cornish's. This morning I took a walk on the sands at Scheveningen; there
+      was a large fat man, among others, bathing at the Northern
+      bathing-station. It was Major White. It is a regular gathering of the
+      clans. I saw a German paper-maker&mdash;a big man in the trade&mdash;on
+      the Kursaal terrace this morning. It may be a mere chance, and it may
+      not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke he had withdrawn from his pocket a folded paper, which he was
+      fingering thoughtfully. Dorothy, who knew that she had by her looks
+      unwittingly warned him, made no motion to go now. He would say nothing
+      that he did not deliberately intend for her ears as much as for her
+      brother's. Von Holzen opened the paper slowly, and looked at it as if
+      every line of it was familiar. It was a sheet of ordinary foolscap covered
+      with minute figures and writing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Vorschrift, the&mdash;how do you say?&mdash;prescription for
+      the malgamite, and there are several in The Hague at this moment who want
+      it, and some who would not be too scrupulous in their methods of procuring
+      it. It is for this that they are gathering&mdash;here in The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned in his leisurely way, and looked over his shoulder towards
+      the paper. Von Holzen glanced at Dorothy. He had no desire to keep her in
+      suspense, but he wished to know how much she knew. She looked into the
+      fire, treating his conversation as directed towards her brother only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tried for ten years in vain to get this,&rdquo; continued Von Holzen, &ldquo;and at
+      last a dying man dictated it to me. For years it lived in the brain of one
+      man only&mdash;and he a maker of it himself. He might have died at any
+      moment with that secret in his head. And I,&rdquo;&mdash;he folded the paper
+      slowly and shrugged his shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;I watched him. And the last
+      intelligible word he spoke on earth was the last word of this
+      prescription. The man can have been no fool; for he was a man of little
+      education. I never respected him so much as I do now when I have learnt it
+      myself.&rdquo; He rose and walked to the fire. &ldquo;You permit me, Fräulein,&rdquo; he
+      said, putting the logs together with his foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They burnt up brightly, and he threw the paper upon them. In a moment it
+      was reduced to ashes. He turned slowly upon his heel, and looked at his
+      companions with the grave smile of one who had never known much mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; he said, touching his forehead, with one finger; &ldquo;it is in the
+      brain of one man&mdash;once more.&rdquo; He returned to the chair he had just
+      vacated. &ldquo;And whosoever wishes to stop the manufacture of malgamite will
+      need to stop that brain,&rdquo; he said, with a soft laugh. &ldquo;Of course there is
+      a risk attached to burning that paper,&rdquo; he continued, after a pause. &ldquo;My
+      brain may go&mdash;a little clot of blood no bigger than a pin's head, and
+      the greatest brain on earth is so much pulp! It may be worth some one's
+      while to kill me. It is so often worth some one's while to kill somebody
+      else, even at a considerable risk&mdash;but the courage is nearly always
+      lacking. However, we must run these risks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose from his chair with a low and rather pleasant laugh, glancing at
+      the clock as he did so. It was evidently his intention to take his leave.
+      Dorothy rose also, and they stood for a moment facing each other. He was a
+      few inches above her stature, and he looked down at her with his slow,
+      thoughtful eyes. He seemed always to be making a diagnosis of the souls of
+      men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, Fräulein,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;That you are one of those who dislike me,
+      and seek to do me harm. I am sorry. It is long since I discarded a
+      youthful belief that it was possible to get on in life without arousing
+      ill feeling. Believe me, it is impossible even to hold one's own in this
+      world without making enemies. There are two sides to every question,
+      Fräulein&mdash;remember that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He brought his heels together, bowed stiffly, from the waist, in his
+      formal manner, and left the room. Percy Roden followed him, leaving the
+      door open. Dorothy heard the rustle of his dripping waterproof as he put
+      it on, the click of the door, the sound of his firm retreating tread on
+      the gravel. Then her brother came back into the room. His rather weak face
+      was flushed. His eyes were unsteady. Dorothy saw this in a glance, and her
+      own face hardened unresponsively. The situation was clearly enough defined
+      in her own mind. Von Holzen had destroyed the prescription before her on
+      purpose. It was only a move in that game of life which is always extending
+      to a new deal, and of which women as onlookers necessarily see the most.
+      Von Holzen wished Cornish, and others concerned, to know that he had
+      destroyed the prescription. It was a concession in disguise&mdash;a
+      retrograde movement&mdash;perhaps <i>pour mieux sauter</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was one of those men who have a grudge against the world. The
+      most hopeless ill-doer is he who excuses himself angrily. There are some
+      who seem unconscious of their own failings, and for these there is hope.
+      They may some day find out that it is better to be at peace with the world
+      even at the cost of a little self-denial. But Percy Roden admitted that he
+      was wrong, and always had that sort of excuse which seeks to lay the blame
+      upon a whole class&mdash;upon other business men, upon those in authority,
+      upon women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is excused in others, why not in me?&rdquo;&mdash;the last cry of the
+      ne'er-do-well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced angrily at Dorothy now. But he was always half afraid of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish we had never come to this place,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us go away from it,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, &ldquo;before it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at her in surprise. Did she expect him to go away now from
+      Mrs. Vansittart? He knew, of course, that Dorothy and the world always
+      expected too much from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before it is too late. What do you mean?&rdquo; he asked, still thinking of
+      Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before the Malgamite scheme is exposed,&rdquo; replied Dorothy, bluntly. And,
+      to her surprise, he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you meant something else,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The Malgamite scheme can
+      look after itself. Von Holzen is the cleverest man I know, and he knows
+      what he is doing. I thought you meant Mrs. Vansittart&mdash;were thinking
+      of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Vansittart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not worth thinking about,&rdquo; suggested Roden, adhering to his method of
+      laughing for fear of being laughed at, which is common enough in very
+      young men; but Roden should have outgrown it by this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not seriously.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I hope you do not think seriously of asking Mrs. Vansittart to marry
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden gave his rather unpleasant laugh again. &ldquo;It happens that I do,&rdquo; he
+      replied. &ldquo;And it happens that I know that Mrs. Vansittart never stays in
+      The Hague in summer when all the houses are empty and everybody is away,
+      and the place is given up to tourists, and becomes a mere annex to
+      Scheveningen. This year she has stayed&mdash;why, I should like to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he stroked his moustache as he looked into the fire. He had been
+      indulging in the vain pleasure of putting two and two together. A young
+      man's vanity&mdash;or indeed any man's vanity&mdash;is not to be trusted
+      to work out that simple addition correctly. Percy Roden was still in a
+      dangerously exalted frame of mind. There is no intoxication so dangerous
+      as that of success, and none that leaves so bitter a taste behind it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;no girl ever thinks that her brother can succeed in
+      such a case. I suppose you dislike Mrs. Vansittart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I like her, and I understand her, perhaps better than you do. I
+      should like nothing better than that she should marry you, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ask her,&rdquo; replied Dorothy&mdash;a woman's answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then let us go away from here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned on her angrily. &ldquo;Why do you keep on repeating that?&rdquo; he
+      cried. &ldquo;Why do you want to go away from here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; replied Dorothy, as angry as himself, &ldquo;you know as well as I do
+      that the Malgamite scheme is not what it pretends to be. I suppose you are
+      making a fortune and are dazzled, or else you are being deceived by Herr
+      von Holzen, or else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; echoed Roden, with a pale face. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;go on.&rdquo;
+       But she bit her lip and was silent. &ldquo;It is an open secret,&rdquo; she went on
+      after a pause. &ldquo;Everybody knows that it is a disgrace or worse&mdash;perhaps
+      a crime. If you have made a fortune, be content with what you have made,
+      and clear yourself of the whole affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I am going to make more. And I am going to marry Mrs. Vansittart.
+      It is only a question of money. It always is with women. And not one in a
+      hundred cares how the money is made.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which, of course, is not true; for no woman likes to see her husband's
+      name on a biscuit or a jam-pot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; went on Percy, in his anger. &ldquo;I know which side you take,
+      since you are talking of open secrets. At any rate, Von Holzen knows yours&mdash;if
+      it is a secret&mdash;for he has hinted at it more than once. You think
+      that it is I who have been deceived or who deceive myself. You are just as
+      likely to be wrong. You place your whole faith in Cornish. You think that
+      Cornish cannot do wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and looked at him. Her eyes were steady, but the color left
+      her face, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And without a moment's hesitation,&rdquo; went on Roden, hurriedly, &ldquo;you would
+      sacrifice everything for the sake of a man you had never seen six months
+      ago?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even your own brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est
+     celui qui sait attendre.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear,&rdquo; said
+      Marguerite Wade, sententiously, &ldquo;that is exactly where your toes turn in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly
+      veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready to
+      throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the quiet
+      old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees, within the
+      peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major White was
+      sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light tweed suit
+      and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago, but no man
+      surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which distinguishes
+      men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from time to time
+      glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Greengage, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The greengages were on a table at the major's elbow, having been placed
+      there at Marguerite's command by the waiter who attended them at
+      breakfast. White made ready to pass the dish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fingers,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;Heave one over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White selected one with an air of solemn resignation. Marguerite caught
+      the greengage as neatly as it was thrown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think of Herr von Holzen?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To think,&rdquo; replied the Major, &ldquo;certain requisites are necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;m.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know Herr von Holzen, and I have nothing to think with,&rdquo; he
+      explained gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you soon will know him, and I dare say if you tried you would find
+      that you are not so stupid as you pretend to be. You are going down to the
+      works this morning with Papa and Tony Cornish. I know that, because papa
+      told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major looked at her with his air of philosophic surprise. She held up
+      her hand for a catch, and with resignation he threw her another greengage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony is going to call for you in a carriage at ten o'clock, and you three
+      old gentlemen are going to drive in an open barouche with cigars, like a
+      bean feast, to the malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The description is fairly accurate,&rdquo; admitted Major White, without
+      looking up from his paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I imagine you are going to raise&mdash;Hail Columbia!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her severely through his glass, and said nothing. She nodded
+      in a friendly and encouraging manner, as if to intimate that he had her
+      entire approval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take my word for it,&rdquo; she continued, turning to Joan, &ldquo;Herr von Holzen is
+      a shady customer. I know a shady customer when I see him. I never thought
+      much of the malgamite business, you know, but unfortunately nobody asked
+      my opinion on the matter. I wonder&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; She paused, looking
+      thoughtfully at Major White, who presently met her glance with a stolid
+      stare. &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; she said, in a final voice. &ldquo;I forgot. You never
+      think. You can't. Oh no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so easy to misjudge people,&rdquo; pleaded Joan, earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is much easier to see right through them, straight off, in the
+      twinkling of a bedpost,&rdquo; asserted Marguerite. &ldquo;You will see, Herr von
+      Holzen is wrong and Tony is right. And Tony will smash him up. You will
+      see. Tony&rdquo;&mdash;she paused, and looked up at the roof where the doves
+      were cooing&mdash;&ldquo;Tony knows his way about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White rose and laid aside his paper. Mr. Wade was coming down the
+      iron steps that led from the verandah to the garden. The banker was
+      cutting a cigar, and wore a placid, comfortable look, as if he had
+      breakfasted well. Even as regards kidneys and bacon in a foreign hotel,
+      where there is a will there is a way, and Marguerite possessed tongues.
+      &ldquo;I'll turn this place inside out,&rdquo; she had said, &ldquo;to get the old thing
+      what he wants.&rdquo; Then she attacked the waiter in fluent German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite noted his approach with a protecting eye. &ldquo;It's all solid
+      common sense,&rdquo; she said in an undertone to Joan, referring, it would
+      appear, to his bulk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In only one respect was she misinformed as to the arrangements for the
+      morning. Tony Cornish was not coming to the hotel to fetch Mr. Wade and
+      White, but was to meet them in the shadiest of all thoroughfares and green
+      canals, the Koninginne Gracht, where at midday the shadows cast by the
+      great trees are so deep that daylight scarcely penetrates, and the boats
+      creep to and fro like shadows. This amendment had been made in view of the
+      fact that Lord Ferriby was in the hotel, and was, indeed, at this moment
+      partaking of a solemn breakfast in his private sitting-room overlooking
+      the Toornoifeld.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship did not, therefore, see these two solid pillars of the
+      British constitution walk across the corner of the Korte Voorhout, cigar
+      in lip, in a placid silence begotten, perhaps, of the knowledge that,
+      should an emergency arise, they were of a material that would arise to
+      meet it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was awaiting them by the bank of the canal. He was watching a boat
+      slowly work its way past him. It was one of the large boats built for
+      traffic on the greater canals and the open waters of the Scheldt estuary.
+      It was laden from end to end with little square boxes bearing only a
+      number and a port mark in black stencil. A pleasant odor of sealing-wax
+      dominated the weedy smell of the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wherever you turn you meet the stuff,&rdquo; was Cornish's greeting to the two
+      Englishmen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White, with his delicate sense of smell, sniffed the breeze. Mr.
+      Wade looked at the canal-boat with a nod. Commercial enterprise, and,
+      above all, commercial success, commanded his honest respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered the carriage awaiting them beneath the trees. Cornish was, as
+      usual, quick and eager, a different type from his companions, who were not
+      brilliant as he was, nor polished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They found the gates of the malgamite works shut, but the door-keeper,
+      knowing Cornish to be a person of authority, threw them open and directed
+      the driver to wait outside till the gentlemen should return. The works
+      were quiet and every door was closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it mixing-day?&rdquo; asked Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every day is mixing-day now, mein Herr, and there are some who work all
+      night as well. If the gentlemen will wait a moment, I will seek Herr
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he left them standing beneath the brilliant sun in the open space
+      between the gate and the cottage where Von Holzen lived. In a few moments
+      he returned, accompanied by Percy Roden, who emerged from the office in
+      his shirt-sleeves, pen in hand. He shook hands with Cornish and White,
+      glanced at Mr. Wade, and half bowed. He did not seem glad to see them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We want to look at your books,&rdquo; said Cornish. &ldquo;I suppose you will make no
+      objection?&rdquo; Roden bit his moustache and looked at the point of his pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and Major White?&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this gentleman, who comes as our financial advisor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden raised his eyebrows rather insolently. &ldquo;Ah&mdash;may I ask who this
+      gentleman is?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Wade,&rdquo; answered the banker, characteristically for himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's face changed, and he glanced at the great financier with a keen
+      interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no objection,&rdquo; he said after a moment's hesitation. &ldquo;If Von Holzen
+      will agree. I will go and ask him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they were left alone in the sunshine once more. Mr. Wade watched Roden
+      as he walked towards the factory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the sort of man I expected,&rdquo; he commented. &ldquo;But he has the right
+      shaped head for figures. He is shrewd enough to know that he cannot
+      refuse, so gives in with a good grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes Von Holzen approached them, emerging from the factory
+      alone. He bowed politely, but did not offer to shake hands. He had not
+      seen Cornish since the evening when he had offered to make malgamite
+      before him, and the experiment had taken such a deadly turn. He looked at
+      him now and found his glance returned by an illegible smile. The question
+      flashed through his mind and showed itself on his face as to why Roden had
+      made such a mistake as to introduce a man like this into the Malgamite
+      scheme. Von Holzen invited the gentlemen into the office. &ldquo;It is small,
+      but it will accommodate us,&rdquo; he said, with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew forward chairs, and offered one to Cornish in particular, with a
+      grim deference. He seemed to have divined that their last meeting in this
+      same office had been, by tacit understanding, kept a secret. There is for
+      some men a certain satisfaction in antagonism, and a stern regard for a
+      strong foe&mdash;which reached its culmination, perhaps, in that Saxon
+      knight who desired to be buried in the same chapel as his lifelong foe&mdash;between
+      him, indeed, and the door&mdash;so that at the resurrection day they
+      should not miss each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen seemed to have somewhat of this feeling for Cornish. He offered
+      him the best seat at the table. Roden was taking his books from a safe&mdash;huge
+      ledgers bound in green pigskin, slim cash-books, cloth-bound journals. He
+      named them as he laid them on the table before Mr. Wade. Major White
+      looked at the great tomes with solemn and silent awe. Mr. Wade was already
+      fingering his gold pencil-case. He eyed the closed books with an
+      anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his face&mdash;as a commander may eye
+      the arrayed squadrons of the foe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in confidence?&rdquo;
+       said Von Holzen. &ldquo;For your own satisfaction, and not in any sense for
+      publication. It is a trade secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
+      &ldquo;We trust to the honor of these gentlemen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the iron
+      mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the table&mdash;especially
+      at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face wore a careless
+      smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness of the books
+      testified to the fact that he always worked in shirt-sleeves. It was a
+      trick of the trade, which exonerated him from the necessity of
+      apologizing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with his
+      fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed to
+      recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet of
+      neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
+      unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were like
+      copper-plate&mdash;an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
+      final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid it
+      aside. Then, he turned to the slim cash-books, which he glanced at
+      casually. The journals he set aside without opening. He handled the books
+      with a sort of skill showing that he knew how to lift them with the least
+      exertion, how to open them and close them and turn their stiff pages. The
+      enormous mass of figures did not seem to appal him; the maze was straight
+      enough beneath such skillful eyes. Finally, he turned to a small locked
+      ledger, of which the key was attached to Roden's watch-chain, who came
+      forward and unlocked the book. Mr. Wade turned to the index at the
+      beginning of the volume, found a certain account, and opened the book
+      there. At the sight of the figures he raised his eyebrow and glanced up at
+      Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He had arrived at his
+      destination&mdash;had torn the heart out of these great books. All in the
+      room were watching his placid, shrewd old face. He studied the books for
+      some time and then took a sheet of blank paper from a number of such
+      attached by a string to a corner of the table. He reflected for some
+      minutes, pushing the movable part of his gold pencil in and out pensively
+      as he did so. Then he wrote a number of figures on the sheet of paper and
+      handed it to Cornish. He closed the locked ledger with a snap. The audit
+      of the malgamite books was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a wonderful piece of single-handed bookkeeping,&rdquo; he said to Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was studying the paper set before him by the banker. The
+      proceedings seemed to have been prearranged, for no word was exchanged.
+      There was no consultation on either side. Finally, Cornish folded the
+      paper and tore it into a hundred pieces in scrupulous adherence to Von
+      Holzen's conditions. Mr. Wade was sitting back in his chair thoughtfully
+      amusing himself with his gold pencil-case. Cornish looked at him for a
+      moment, and then spoke, addressing Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We came here to make a final proposal to you,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;to place before
+      you, in fact, our ultimatum. We do not pretend to conceal from you the
+      fact that we are anxious to avoid all publicity, all scandal. But if you
+      drive us to it, we shall unhesitatingly face both in order to close these
+      works. We do not want the Malgamite scheme to be dragged as a charity in
+      the mud, because it will inevitably drag other charities with it. There
+      are certain names connected with the scheme which we should prefer;
+      moreover, to keep from the clutches of the cheaper democratic newspapers.
+      We know the weakness of our position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we know the strength of ours,&rdquo; put in Von Holzen, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. We recognize that also. You have hitherto slipped in between
+      international laws, and between the laws of men. Legally, we should have
+      difficulty in getting at you, but it can be done. Financially&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He paused, and looked at Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Financially,&rdquo; said the banker, without lifting his eyes from his pencil
+      case, &ldquo;we shall in the long run inevitably smash you&mdash;though the
+      books are all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden smiled, with his long white fingers at his moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From the figures supplied to me by Mr. Wade,&rdquo; continued Cornish, &ldquo;I see
+      that there is an enormous profit lying idle&mdash;so large a profit that
+      even between ourselves it is better not mentioned. There are, or there
+      were yesterday, two hundred and ninety-two malgamite makers in active
+      work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen made an involuntary movement, and Cornish looked at him over
+      the pile of books. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know that. And I know the number of
+      deaths. Perhaps you have not kept count, but I have. From the figures
+      supplied by Mr. Wade, I see, therefore, that we have sufficient to pension
+      off these two hundred and ninety-two men and their families&mdash;giving
+      each man one hundred and twenty pounds a year. We can also make provision
+      for the widows and orphans out of the sum I propose to withdraw from the
+      profits. There will then be left a sum representing two large fortunes&mdash;of
+      say between three and four thousand a year each. Will you and Mr. Roden
+      accept this sum, dividing it as you think fit, and hand over the works to
+      me? We ask, you to take it&mdash;no questions asked, and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lord Ferriby?&rdquo; suggested Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White made a sudden movement, but Cornish laid his hand quickly upon
+      the soldier's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will manage Lord Ferriby. What is your answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen, instantly, as if he had long known what the
+      ultimatum would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned interrogatively to Roden. His eyes urged Roden to accept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade took out his large gold watch and looked at it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there is no need,&rdquo; he said composedly, &ldquo;to detain these gentlemen
+      any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. COMMERCE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;The world will not believe a man repents.
+     And this wise world of ours is mainly right.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are of opinion, my dear White, that one cannot well refuse to
+      meet these&mdash;er&mdash;persons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not,&rdquo; replied Major White to Lord Ferriby, whose hand rested on his stout
+      arm as they walked with dignity in the shade of the trees that border the
+      Vyver&mdash;that quaint old fish-pond of The Hague&mdash;&ldquo;not without
+      running the risk of being called a d&mdash;&mdash;d swindler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the major was a lamentably plain-spoken man, who said but little, and
+      said that little strong. Lord Ferriby's affectionate grasp of the
+      soldier's arm relaxed imperceptibly. One must, he reflected, be prepared
+      to meet unpleasantness in the good cause of charity&mdash;but there are
+      words hardly applicable to the peerage, and Major White had made use of
+      one of these.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Public opinion,&rdquo; observed the major, after some minutes of deep thought,
+      &ldquo;is a difficult thing to deal with&mdash;'cos you cannot thump the
+      public.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is notably hard,&rdquo; said his lordship, firing off one of his pet
+      platform platitudes, &ldquo;to induce the public to form a correct estimate, or
+      what one takes to be a correct estimate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Especially of one's self,&rdquo; added the major, looking across the water
+      towards the Binnenhof in his vacant way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they turned and walked back again beneath the heavy shade of the
+      trees. The conversation, and indeed this dignified promenade on the
+      Vyverberg, had been brought about by a letter which his lordship had
+      received that same morning inviting him to attend a meeting of
+      paper-makers and others interested in the malgamite trade to consider the
+      position of the malgamite charity, and the advisability of taking legal
+      proceedings to close the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. The meeting
+      was to be held at the Hôtel des Indes, at three in the afternoon, and the
+      conveners hinted pretty plainly that the proceedings would be of a
+      decisive nature. The letter left Lord Ferriby with a vague feeling of
+      discomfort. His position was somewhat isolated. A coldness had for some
+      time been in existence between himself and his nephew, Tony Cornish. Of
+      Mr. Wade, Lord Ferriby was slightly distrustful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These commercial men,&rdquo; he often said, &ldquo;are apt to hold such narrow
+      views.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, indeed, to steer a straight course through life, one must not look to
+      one side or the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There remained Major White, of whom Lord Ferriby had thought more highly
+      since Fortune had called this plain soldier to take a seat among the gods
+      of the British public. For no man is proof against the satisfaction of
+      being able to call a celebrated person by his Christian name. The major
+      had long admired Joan, in his stupid way from, as one might say, the other
+      side of the room. But neither Lord nor Lady Ferriby had encouraged this
+      silent suit. Joan was theoretically one of those of whom it is said that
+      &ldquo;she might marry anybody,&rdquo; and who, as the keen observer may see for
+      himself, often finishes by failing to marry at all. She was pretty and
+      popular, and had, moreover, the <i>entrée</i> to the best houses. White
+      had been useful to Lord Ferriby ever since the inauguration of the
+      Malgamite scheme. He was not uncomfortably clever, like Tony Cornish. He
+      was an excellent buffer at jarring periods. Since the arrival of Joan and
+      her father at The Hague, the major had been almost a necessity in their
+      daily life, and now, quite suddenly, Lord Ferriby found that this was the
+      only person to whom he could turn for advice or support.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One cannot suppose,&rdquo; he said, in the full conviction that words will meet
+      any emergency&mdash;&ldquo;One cannot suppose that Von Holzen will act in direct
+      opposition to the voice of the majority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Holzen,&rdquo; replied the major, &ldquo;plays a doocid good game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon they walked across the Toornoifeld to the Hôtel des Indes,
+      and there, in a small <i>salon</i>, found a number of gentlemen seated
+      round a table. Mr. Wade was conspicuous by his absence. They had, indeed,
+      left him in the hotel garden, sitting at the consumption of an excellent
+      cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Join the jocund dance?&rdquo; the major had inquired, with a jerk of the head
+      towards the Hôtel des Indes. But Mr. Wade was going for a drive with
+      Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish was, however, seated at the table, and the major recognized
+      two paper-makers whom he had seen before. One was an aggressive,
+      red-headed man, of square shoulders and a dogged appearance, who had
+      &ldquo;radical&rdquo; written all over him. The other was a mild-mannered person, with
+      a thin, ash-colored moustache. The major nodded affably. He distinctly
+      remembered offering to fight these two gentlemen either together or one
+      after the other on the landing of the little malgamite office in
+      Westminster. And there was a faint twinkle behind the major's eyeglass as
+      he saluted them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, Thompson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;How do, MacHewlett?&rdquo; For he never
+      forgot a face or a name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A'hm thinking&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. MacHewlett was observing, but his
+      thoughts died a natural death at the sight of a real lord, and he rose and
+      bowed. Mr. Thompson remained seated and made that posture as aggressive
+      and obvious as possible. The remainder of the company were of varied
+      nationality and appearance, while one, a Frenchman of keen dark eyes and a
+      trim beard&mdash;seemed by tacit understanding to be the acknowledged
+      leader. Even the pushing Mr. Thompson silently deferred to him by a
+      gesture that served at once to introduce Lord Ferriby and invite the
+      Frenchman to up and smite him.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Lord Ferriby took the seat that had been left vacant for him at the
+head of the table. He looked around upon faces not too friendly.
+&ldquo;We were saying, my lord,&rdquo; said the Frenchman, in perfect English and
+with that graceful tact which belongs to France alone, &ldquo;that we have
+all been the victims of an unfortunate chain of misunderstandings.
+Had the organizers of this great charity consulted a few paper-makers
+before inaugurating the works at Scheveningen, much unpleasantness
+ might have been averted, many lives might, alas, have been spared.
+But&mdash;well&mdash;such mundane persons as ourselves were probably unknown to
+you and unthought-of; the milk is spilt, is it not so? Let us rather
+think of the future.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby bowed graciously, and Mr. Thompson moved impatiently on his
+      chair. The suave method had no attractions for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A'hm thinking,&rdquo; began Mr. MacHewlett, in his most plaintive voice, and
+      commanded so sudden and universal an attention as to be obviously
+      disconcerted, &ldquo;his lordship'll need plainer speech than that,&rdquo; he muttered
+      hastily, and subsided, with an uneasy glance in the direction of that man
+      of action, Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One misunderstanding has, however, been happily dispelled,&rdquo; said the
+      Frenchman, &ldquo;by our friend&mdash;if monsieur will permit the word&mdash;our
+      friend, Mr. Cornish. From this gentleman we have learned that the
+      executive of the Malgamite Charity are not by any means in harmony with
+      the executive of the malgamite works at Scheveningen; that, indeed, the
+      charity repudiates the action of its servants in manufacturing malgamite
+      by a dangerous process tacitly and humanely set aside by makers up to this
+      time; that the administrators of the fund are no party to the 'corner'
+      which has been established in the product; do not desire to secure a
+      monopoly, and disapprove of the sale of malgamite at a price which has
+      already closed one or two of the smaller mills, and is paralyzing the
+      paper trade of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker finished with a bow towards Cornish, and resumed his seat. All
+      were watching Lord Ferriby's face, except Major White, who examined a
+      quill pen with short-sighted absorption. Lord Ferriby looked across the
+      table at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Ferriby,&rdquo; said Cornish, without rising from his seat, and meeting
+      his uncle's glance steadily, &ldquo;will now no doubt confirm all that Monsieur
+      Creil has said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby had, in truth, come to the meeting with no such intention. He
+      had, with all his vast experience, no knowledge of a purely commercial
+      assembly such as this. His public had hitherto been a drawing-room public.
+      He was accustomed to a flower-decked platform, from which to deliver his
+      flowing periods to the emotional of both sexes. There were no flowers in
+      this room at the Hôtel des Indes, and the men before him were not of the
+      emotional school. They were, on the contrary, plain, hard-headed men of
+      business, who had come from different parts of the world at Cornish's
+      bidding to meet a crisis in a plain, hard-headed way. They had only
+      thoughts of their balance-sheets, and not of the fact that they held in
+      the hollow of their hands the lives of hundreds, nay, of thousands, of
+      men, women, and children. Monsieur Creil alone, the keen-eyed Frenchman,
+      had absolute control of over three thousand employees&mdash;married men
+      with children&mdash;but he did not think of mentioning the fact. And it is
+      a weight to carry about with one&mdash;to go to sleep with and to awake
+      with in the morning&mdash;the charge of, say, nine thousand human lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a few moments Lord Ferriby was silent. Cornish watched him across the
+      table. He knew that his uncle was no fool, although his wisdom amounted to
+      little more than the wisdom of the worldly. Would Lord Ferriby recognize
+      the situation in time? There was a wavering look in the great man's eye
+      that made his nephew suddenly anxious. Then Lord Ferriby rose slowly, to
+      make the shortest speech that he had ever made in his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I beg to confirm what has just been said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he sat down again, Cornish gave a sharp sigh of relief. In a moment Mr.
+      Thompson was on his feet, his red face alight with democratic anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This won't do,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Let's have done with palavering and talk.
+      Let's get to plain speaking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was not Lord Ferriby, but Tony Cornish, who rose to meet the
+      attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will sit down,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and keep your temper, you shall have
+      plain speaking, and we can get to business. But if you do neither, I shall
+      turn you out of the room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Tony. And something which Mr. Thompson did not understand
+      made him resume his seat in silence. The Frenchman smiled, and took up his
+      speech where he had left it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;speaks with authority. We are, gentlemen, in the
+      hands of Mr. Cornish, and in good hands. He has this matter at the tips of
+      his fingers. He has devoted himself to it for many months past, at
+      considerable risk, as I suspect, to his own safety. We and the thousands
+      of employees whom we represent cannot do better than entrust the situation
+      to him, and give him a free hand. For once, capital and labour have a
+      common interest&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was again interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who spoke more quietly now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that we may well consider the past for a few
+      minutes before passing on to the future. There's more than a million
+      pounds profit, at the lowest reckoning, on the last few months'
+      manufacture. Question is, where is that profit? Is this a charity, or is
+      it not? Mr. Cornish is all very well in his way. But we're not fools.
+      We're men of business, and as such can only presume that Mr. Cornish, like
+      the rest of 'em, has had his share. Question is, where are the profits?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White rose slowly. He was seated beside Mr. Thompson, and, standing
+      up, towered above him. He looked down at the irate red face with a calm
+      and wondering eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Question is,&rdquo; he said gravely, &ldquo;where the deuce you will be in a few
+      minutes if you don't shut up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Mr. Thompson once more resumed his seat. He had the
+      satisfaction, however, of perceiving that his shaft had reached its mark;
+      for Lord Ferriby looked disconcerted and angry. The chairman of many
+      charities looked, moreover, a little puzzled, as if the situation was
+      beyond his comprehension. The Frenchman's pleasant voice again broke in,
+      soothingly and yet authoritatively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish and a certain number of us have, for some time, been in
+      correspondence,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is unnecessary for me to suggest to my
+      present hearers that in dealing with a large industry&mdash;in handling,
+      as it were, the lives of a number of persons&mdash;it is impossible to
+      proceed too cautiously. One must look as far ahead as human foresight may
+      perceive&mdash;one must give grave and serious thought to every possible
+      outcome of action or inaction. Gentlemen, we have done our best. We are
+      now in a position to say to the administrators of the Malgamite Fund,
+      close your works and we will do the rest. And this means that we shall
+      provide for the survivors of this great commercial catastrophe, that we
+      shall care for the widows and children of the victims, that we shall
+      supply ourselves with malgamite of our own manufacture, produced only by a
+      process which is known to be harmless, that we shall make it impossible
+      that such a monopoly may again be declared. We have, so far as lies in our
+      power, provided for every emergency. We have approached the two men who,
+      from their retreat on the dunes of Scheveningen, have swayed one of the
+      large industries of the world. We have offered them a fortune. We have
+      tried threats and money, but we have failed to close them but one
+      alternative, and that is&mdash;war. We are prepared in every way. We can
+      to-morrow take over the manufacture of malgamite for the whole world&mdash;but
+      we must have the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. We must have the
+      absolute control of the Malgamite Fund and of the works. We propose,
+      gentlemen, to seize this control, and invest the supreme command in the
+      one man who is capable of exercising it&mdash;Mr. Anthony Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Frenchman sat down, looked across the table, and shrugged his
+      shoulders impatiently; for the irrepressible Thompson was already on his
+      feet. It must be remembered that Mr. Thompson worked on commission, and
+      had been hard hit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; he cried, pointing a shaking forefinger into Lord Ferriby's face,
+      &ldquo;that man has no business to be sitting there. We're honest here&mdash;if
+      we're nothing else. We all know your history, my fine gentleman; we know
+      that you cannot wipe out the past, so you're trying to whitewash it over
+      with good works. That's an old trick, and it won't go down here. Do you
+      think we don't see through you and your palavering speeches? Why have you
+      refused to take action against Roden and Von Holzen? Because they've paid
+      you. Look at him, gentlemen! He has taken money from those men at
+      Scheveningen&mdash;blood money. He has had his share. I propose that Lord
+      Ferriby explains his position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Thompson banged his fist on the table, and at the same moment sat down
+      with extreme precipitation, urged thereto by Major White's hand on his
+      collar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is not a vestry meeting,&rdquo; said the major, sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby had risen to his feet. &ldquo;My position, gentlemen,&rdquo; he began,
+      and then faltered, with his hand at his watch-chain. &ldquo;My position&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He stopped with a gulp. His face was the colour of ashes. He turned in a
+      dazed way towards his nephew; for at the beginning and the end of life
+      blood is thicker than water. &ldquo;Anthony,&rdquo; said his lordship, and sat down
+      heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All rose to their feet in confusion. Major White seemed somehow to be
+      quicker than the rest, and caught Lord Ferriby in his arms&mdash;but Lord
+      Ferriby was dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. WITH CARE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Some man holdeth his tongue, because he hath not to answer:
+     and some keepeth silence, knowing his time.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Those who live for themselves alone must at least have the consolatory
+      thought that when they die the world will soon console itself. For it has
+      been decreed that he who takes no heed of others shall himself be taken no
+      heed of. We soon learn to do without those who are indifferent to us and
+      useless to us. Lord Ferriby had so long and so carefully studied the <i>culte</i>
+      of self that even those nearest to him had ceased to give him any thought,
+      knowing that in his own he was in excellent hands&mdash;that he would
+      always ask for what he wanted. It was Lord Ferriby's business to make the
+      discovery (which all selfish people must sooner or later achieve) that the
+      best things in this world are precisely those which may not be given on
+      demand, and for which, indeed, one may in nowise ask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Major White and Cornish were left alone in the private <i>salon</i>
+      of the Hôtel des Indes&mdash;when the doctor had come and gone, when the
+      blinds had been decently lowered, and the great man silently laid upon the
+      sofa&mdash;they looked at each other without speaking. The grimmest
+      silence is surely that which arises from the thought that of the dead one
+      may only say what is good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you like me,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;to go across and tell Joan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White, whose god was discipline, replied, &ldquo;She's your cousin. It
+      is for you to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be glad if you will go,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;and leave me to make the
+      other arrangements. Take her home tomorrow, or tonight if she wants to,
+      and leave us&mdash;me&mdash;to follow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Major White quitted the Hôtel des Indes, and walked slowly down the
+      length of the Toornoifeld, leaving Cornish alone with Lord Ferriby, whose
+      death made his nephew suddenly a richer man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Wades had gone out for a drive in the wood. Major White knew that he
+      would find Joan alone at the hotel. Bad news has a strange trick of
+      clearing the way before it. The major went to the <i>salon</i> on the
+      ground floor overlooking the corner of the Vyverberg. Joan was writing a
+      letter at the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said, turning, pen in hand, &ldquo;you are soon back. Have you
+      quarrelled?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White went stolidly across the room towards her. There was a chair by the
+      writing-table, and here he sat down. Joan was looking uneasily into his
+      face. Perhaps she saw more in that immovable countenance than the world
+      was pleased to perceive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father was taken suddenly ill,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;during the meeting.&rdquo; Joan
+      half rose from her chair, but the major laid his protecting hand over
+      hers. It was a large, quiet hand&mdash;like himself, somewhat suggestive
+      of a buffer. And it may, after all, be no mean <i>rôle</i> to act as a
+      buffer between one woman and the world all one's life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can do nothing,&rdquo; said White. &ldquo;Tony is with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan looked into his face in speechless inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;your father is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he sat there in a silence which may have been intensely stupid or
+      very wise. For silence is usually cleverer than speech, and always more
+      interesting. Joan was dry-eyed. Well may the children of the selfish arise
+      and bless their parents for (albeit unwittingly) alleviating one of the
+      necessary sorrows of life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a silence, Major White told Joan how the calamity had occurred, in a
+      curt military way, as of one who had rubbed shoulders with death before,
+      who had gone out, moreover, to meet him with a quiet mind, and had told
+      others of the dealings of the destroyer. For Major White was deemed a
+      lucky man by his comrades, who had a habit of giving him messages for
+      their friends before they went into the field. Perhaps, moreover, the
+      major was of the opinion of those ancient writers who seemed to deem it
+      more important to consider how a man lives than how he dies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was some heart trouble,&rdquo; he concluded, &ldquo;brought on by worry or sudden
+      excitement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Malgamite,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;It has always been a source of uneasiness
+      to him. He never quite understood it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the major, very deliberately, &ldquo;he never quite understood
+      it.&rdquo; And he looked out of the window with a thoughtful noncommitting face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I&mdash;understand it,&rdquo; said Joan, doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the major looked suddenly dense. He had, as usual, no explanation to
+      offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was father deceived by some one?&rdquo; Joan asked, after a pause. &ldquo;One hears
+      such strange rumours about the Malgamite Fund. I suppose father was
+      deceived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke of the dead man with that hushed voice which death, with a
+      singular impartiality to race or creed, seems to demand of the survivors
+      wheresoever he passes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White met her earnest gaze with a grave nod. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;He was
+      deceived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said before he went out that he did not want to go to the meeting at
+      all,&rdquo; went on Joan, in a tone of tender reminiscence, &ldquo;but that he had
+      always made a point of sacrificing his inclination to his sense of duty.
+      Poor father!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the major, looking out of the window. And he bore Joan's
+      steady, searching glance like a man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she said suddenly. &ldquo;Were you and Tony deceived also?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White reflected for a moment. It is unwise to tell even the smallest
+      lie in haste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered at length. &ldquo;Not so entirely as your father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He uncrossed his legs, and made a feeble attempt to divert her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Joan was on the trail as it were of a half-formed idea in her own
+      mind, and she would not have been a woman if she had relinquished the
+      quest so easily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you were deceived at first?&rdquo; she inquired, rather anxiously. &ldquo;I know
+      Tony was. I am sure of it. Perhaps he found out later; but you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her hand from under his rather hastily, having just found out
+      that it was in that equivocal position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were never deceived,&rdquo; she said, with a suspicion of resentment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;perhaps not,&rdquo; admitted the major, reluctantly. And he looked
+      regretfully at the hand she had withdrawn. &ldquo;Don't know much about
+      charities,&rdquo; he continued, after a pause. &ldquo;Don't quite look at them in the
+      right light, perhaps. Seems to me that you ought to be more business-like
+      in charities than in anything else; and we're not business men&mdash;not
+      even you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her very solemnly and wisely, as if the thoughts in his mind
+      would be of immense value if he could only express them; but he was
+      without facilities in that direction. If one cannot be wise, the next best
+      thing is to have a wise look. He rose, for he had caught sight of Tony
+      Cornish crossing the Toornoifeld in the shade of the trees. Perhaps the
+      major had forgotten for the moment that a great man was dead; that there
+      were letters to be written and telegrams to be despatched; that the world
+      must know of it, and the insatiable maw of the public be closed by a few
+      scraps of news. For the public mind must have its daily food, and the wise
+      are they who tell it only that which it is expedient for it to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby's life was, moreover, one that needed careful obituary
+      treatment. Everybody's life may for domestic purposes be described as a
+      hash; but Lord Ferriby's was a hash which in the hands of a cheap
+      democratic press might easily be served up so daintily as to be very
+      savoury in the nostrils of the world. Some of its component parts were
+      indeed exceedingly ancient, and, so to speak, gamey, while the Malgamite
+      scheme alone might easily be magnified into a very passable scandal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony came into the room, keen and capable. He did not show much feeling.
+      Perhaps Joan and he understood each other without any such display. For
+      they had known each other many years, and had understood other and more
+      subtle matters without verbal explanation. For the world had been pleased
+      to say that Joan and Tony must in the end inevitably marry. And they had
+      never explained, never contradicted, and never married.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the three were still talking, a carriage rattled up to the door of
+      the hotel, and then another. There began, in a word, that hushed confusion&mdash;that
+      running to and fro as of ants upon a disturbed ant-hill&mdash;which
+      follows hard upon the footsteps of the grim messenger, who himself is
+      content to come so quietly and unobtrusively. Roden arrived to make
+      inquiries, and Mrs. Vansittart, and a messenger from more than one
+      embassy. Then the Wades came, brought hurriedly back by a messenger sent
+      after them by Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite, with characteristic energy, came into the room first, slim and
+      bright-eyed. She looked from one face to the other, and then crossed the
+      room and stood beside Joan without speaking. She was smiling&mdash;a
+      little hard smile with close-set lips, showing the world a face that meant
+      to take life open-eyed, as it is, and make the best of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before long the two girls quitted the room, leaving the three men to their
+      hushed discussion. Tony had already provided himself with pen and paper.
+      In twelve hours that which the world must know about Lord Ferriby should
+      be in print. There was just time to cable it to the <i>Times</i> and the
+      news agencies. And in these hurried days it is the first word which, after
+      all, goes farthest and carries most weight. A contradiction is at all
+      times a poor expedient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have silenced the paper-makers,&rdquo; said Cornish, sitting down to write.
+      &ldquo;Even that ass Thompson, by striking while the iron was hot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Roden won't open his lips,&rdquo; added Mr. Wade, who, as he drove up, had
+      seen that brilliant financier uneasily strolling under the trees of the
+      Toornoifeld, looking towards the hotel, for Lord Ferriby's death was a
+      link in the crooked malgamite chain which even Von Holzen had failed to
+      foresee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, Lord Ferriby must have been gratified could he have seen the
+      posthumous pother that he made by dying at this juncture. For in life he
+      had only been important in his own eyes, and the world had taken little
+      heed of him. This same keen-sighted world would not regret him much now
+      and would assuredly mete out to that miserly old screw, his widow, only as
+      much sympathy as the occasion deserved. Lady Ferriby would, the world
+      suspected, sell off his lordship's fancy waistcoats, and proceed to save
+      money to her heart's content. Even the thought of his club subscriptions,
+      now necessarily to be discontinued, must have assuaged a large part of the
+      widow's grief. Such, at least, was the opinion of the clubs themselves,
+      when the news was posted up among the weather reports and the latest tapes
+      from the House that same evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Lord Ferriby's friends were comfortably endowing him with a few
+      compensating virtues over their tea and hot buttered toast in Pall Mall
+      and St. James's Street, Mr. Wade, Tony, and White dined together at the
+      Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery at The Hague. The hour was an early one,
+      and had never been countenanced by Lord Ferriby, but the three men in
+      whose hands he had literally left his good name did not attach supreme
+      importance to this matter. Indeed, the banker thought kindly of six-thirty
+      as an hour at which in earlier days he had been endowed with a better
+      appetite than he ever possessed now at eight o'clock or later. While they
+      were at table a telegram was handed to Cornish. It was from Lord Ferriby's
+      solicitor in London, and contained the advice that Tony Cornish had been
+      appointed sole executor of his lordship's will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; said Tony, with a little laugh, as he read the message and
+      handed it across to Mr. Wade, who looked at it gravely without comment.
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;not even Joan need know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Cornish, having perceived Percy Roden under the trees of the
+      Toornoifeld, had gone out there to speak to him, and in answer to a plain
+      question had received a plain answer as to the price that Lord Ferriby had
+      been paid for the use of his name in the Malgamite Fund transactions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan had elected to remain in her own rooms, with Marguerite to keep her
+      company, until the evening, when, under White's escort, she was to set out
+      for England. The major had in a minimum of words expressed himself ready
+      to do anything at any time, provided that the service did not require an
+      abnormal conversational effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be home twenty-four hours after you,&rdquo; said Cornish, as he bade
+      Joan good-bye at the station. &ldquo;And you need believe no rumours and fear no
+      gossip. If people ask impertinent questions, refer them to White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'll thump them,&rdquo; added the major, who indeed looked capable of
+      rendering that practical service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were favoured by a full moon and a perfect night for their passage
+      from the Hook of Holland to Harwich. Joan expressed a desire to remain on
+      deck, at all events, until the lights of the Maas had been left behind.
+      Major White procured two deck chairs, and found a corner of the upper deck
+      which was free alike from too much wind and too many people. There they
+      sat in the shadow of a boat, and Joan seemed fully occupied with her own
+      thoughts, for she did not speak while the steamer ploughed steadily
+      onwards through the smooth water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if it is my duty to continue to take an active part in the
+      Malgamite Fund,&rdquo; she said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the major, who had been permitted to smoke, looked attentively at the
+      lighted end of his cigar, and said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid it must be,&rdquo; continued Joan, whose earnest endeavours to find
+      out what was her duty, and do it, occupied the larger part of her time and
+      attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; asked Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I don't want to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The major thought about the matter for a long time&mdash;almost half
+      through a cigar. It was wonderful how so much thought could result in so
+      few words, especially in these days, which are essentially days of many
+      words and few thoughts. During this period of meditation, Joan sat looking
+      out to sea, and the moon shining down upon her face showed it to be
+      puckered with anxiety. Like many of her contemporaries, she was troubled
+      by an intense desire to do her duty, coupled with an unfortunate lack of
+      duties to perform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish you would tell me what you think,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; said White, &ldquo;that your duty is clear enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Drop the Malgamiters and the Haberdashers and all that, and&mdash;marry
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Joan only shook her head sadly. &ldquo;That cannot be my duty,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? 'Cos it isn't unpleasant enough?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Joan, after a pause, in the deepest earnestness&mdash;&ldquo;no&mdash;that's
+      just it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Out of which ambiguous observation the major seemed to gather some
+      meaning, for he looked up at the moon with one of his most vacant smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. A LESSON.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Whom the gods mean to destroy, they blind.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had passed the age of blind love. She had not the
+      incentive of a healthy competition. She had not that more dangerous
+      incentive of middle-aged vanity, which draws the finger of derision so
+      often in the direction of widows. And yet she took a certain pleasure in
+      playing a half-careless and wholly cynical Juliet to Percy Roden's <i>gauche</i>
+      Romeo. She had no intention of marrying him, and yet she continued to
+      encourage him even now that open war was declared between Cornish and the
+      malgamite makers. Cornish had indeed thanked Mrs. Vansittart for her
+      assistance in the past in such a manner as to convey to her that she could
+      hardly be of use to him in the future. He had magnified her good offices,
+      and had warned her to beware of arousing Von Holzen's anger. Indeed, her
+      use of Percy Roden was at an end, and yet she would not let him go.
+      Cornish was puzzled, and so was Dorothy. Percy Roden was gratified, and
+      read the riddle by the light of his own vanity. Mrs. Vansittart was not,
+      perhaps, the first woman to puzzle her neighbours by refusing to
+      relinquish that which she did not want. She was not the first, perhaps, to
+      nurse a subtle desire to play some part in the world rather than be left
+      idle in the wings. So she played the part that came first and easiest to
+      her hand&mdash;a woman's natural part, of stirring up strife between men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was, therefore, gratified when Von Holzen made his way slowly towards
+      her through the crowd on the Kursaal terrace one afternoon on the occasion
+      of a Thursday concert. She was sitting alone in a far corner of the
+      terrace, protected by a glass screen from the wind which ever blows at
+      Scheveningen. She never mingled with the summer visitors at this popular
+      Dutch resort&mdash;indeed, knew none of them. Von Holzen seemed to be
+      similarly situated; but Mrs. Vansittart knew that he did not seek her out
+      on that account. He was not a man to do anything&mdash;much less be
+      sociable&mdash;out of idleness. He only dealt with his fellow-beings when
+      he had a use for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She returned his grave bow with an almost imperceptible movement of the
+      head, and for a moment they looked hard at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame still lingers at The Hague,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is the game worth the candle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his hand tentatively on a chair, and looked towards her with an
+      interrogative glance. He would not, it appeared, sit down without her
+      permission. And, womanlike, she gave it, with a shrug of one shoulder. A
+      woman rarely refuses a challenge. &ldquo;And is the game worth the candle?&rdquo; he
+      repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One can only tell when it is played out,&rdquo; was the reply; and Herr von
+      Holzen glanced quickly at the lady who made it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned away and listened to the music. An occasional concert was the
+      one diversion he allowed himself at this time from his most absorbing
+      occupation of making a fortune. He had probably a real love of music,
+      which is not by any means given to the good only, or the virtuous. Indeed,
+      it is the art most commonly allied to vice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Von Holzen, after a pause, &ldquo;that paper which it pleased
+      madame's fantasy to possess at one time&mdash;is destroyed. Its teaching
+      exists only in my unworthy brain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and looked at her with his slow smile, his measuring eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; so madame need give the question no more thought, and may turn her
+      full attention to her new&mdash;fancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was studying her programme, and did not look up or display
+      the slightest interest in what he was saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every event seems but to serve to strengthen our position,&rdquo; went on Von
+      Holzen, still half listening to the music. &ldquo;Even the untimely death of
+      Lord Ferriby&mdash;which might at first have appeared a <i>contretemps</i>.
+      Cornish takes home the coffin by tonight's mail, I understand. Men may
+      come, madame, and men may go&mdash;but we go on for ever. We are still
+      prosperous&mdash;despite our friends. And Cornish is nonplussed. He does
+      not know what to do next, and fate seems to be against him. He has no
+      luck. We are manufacturing&mdash;day and night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are interested in Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly; and
+      she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After all, the man had a passion over which his control was insecure&mdash;the
+      last, the longest of the passions&mdash;hatred. He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has forced himself upon our notice&mdash;unnecessarily as the result
+      has proved&mdash;only to find out that there is no stopping us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He could scarcely control his voice as he spoke of Cornish, and looked
+      away as if fearing to show the expression of his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart watched him with a cool little smile. Von Holzen had not
+      come here to talk of Cornish. He had come on purpose to say something
+      which he had not succeeded in saying yet, and she was not ignorant of
+      this. She was going to make it as difficult as possible for him, so that
+      when he at last said what he had come to say, she should know it, and
+      perhaps divine his motives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even now,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;we have succeeded beyond our expectations. We
+      are rich men, so that madame&mdash;need delay no longer.&rdquo; He turned and
+      looked her straight in the eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; she inquired, with raised eyebrows. &ldquo;Need delay no longer&mdash;in
+      what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In consummating the happiness of my partner, Percy Roden,&rdquo; he was clever
+      enough to say without being impertinent. &ldquo;He&mdash;and his banking account&mdash;are
+      really worth the attention of any lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart laughed, and, before answering, acknowledged stiffly the
+      stiff salutation of a passer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is suggested that I am waiting for Mr. Roden to be rich enough in
+      order to marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the talk of gossips and servants.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart looked at him with an amused smile. Did he really know so
+      little of the world as to take his information from gossips and servants?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, and that was all. She rose and made a little signal with
+      her parasol to her coachman, who was waiting in the shadow of the Kursaal.
+      As she drove home, she wondered why Von Holzen was afraid that she should
+      marry Percy Roden, who, as it happened, was coming to tea in Park Straat
+      that evening. Mrs. Vansittart had not exactly invited him&mdash;not, at
+      all events, that he was aware of. He was under the impression that he had
+      himself proposed the visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She remembered that he was coming, but gave no further thought to him. All
+      her mind was, indeed, absorbed with thoughts of Von Holzen, whom she hated
+      with the dull and deadly hatred of the helpless. The sight of him, the
+      sound of his voice, stirred something within her that vibrated for hours,
+      so that she could think of nothing else&mdash;could not even give her
+      attention to the little incidents of daily life. She pretended to herself
+      that she sought retribution&mdash;that she wished on principle to check a
+      scoundrel in his successful career. The heart, however, knows no
+      principles; for these are created by and belong to the mind. Which
+      explains why many women seem to have no principles and many virtuous
+      persons no heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart went home to make a careful toilet pending the arrival of
+      Percy Roden. She came down to the drawing-room, and stood idly at the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The talk of gossips and servants,&rdquo; she repeated bitterly to herself. One
+      of Von Holzen's shafts had, at all events, gone home. And Percy Roden came
+      into the room a few minutes afterwards. His manner had more assurance than
+      when he had first made Mrs. Vansittart's acquaintance. He had, perhaps, a
+      trifle less respect for the room and its occupant. Mrs. Vansittart had
+      allowed him to come nearer to her; and when a woman allows a man of whom
+      she has a low opinion to come near to her, she trifles with her own
+      self-respect, and does harm which, perhaps, may never be repaired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was too busy to go to the concert this afternoon,&rdquo; he said, sitting
+      down in his loose-limbed way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His assumption that his absence had been noticed rather nettled his
+      hearer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Were you not there?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and looked at her with his curt laugh. &ldquo;If I had been there you
+      would have known it,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was just one of those remarks&mdash;delivered in the half-mocking voice
+      assumed in self-protection&mdash;which Mrs. Vansittart had hitherto
+      allowed to pass unchallenged. And now, quite suddenly, she resented the
+      manner and the speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; she said, with a subtle inflection of tone which should have
+      warned him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was engaged in drawing down his cuffs. Many young men would know
+      more of the world if they had no cuffs or collars to distract them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden; &ldquo;if I had gone to the concert it would not have
+      been for the music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden's method of making love was essentially modern. He threw to
+      Mrs. Vansittart certain scraps of patronage and admiration, which she
+      could pick up seriously and keep if she cared to. But he was not going to
+      risk a wound to his vanity by taking the initiative too earnestly. Mrs.
+      Vansittart, who was busy at the tea-table, set down a cup which she had in
+      her hand and crossed the room towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Mr. Roden?&rdquo; she asked slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up with wavering eyes, and visibly lost colour under her gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do I mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. What do you mean when you say that, if you had gone to the concert,
+      it would not have been for the music; that if you had been there, I should
+      have known of your presence, and a hundred other&mdash;impertinences?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At first Roden thought that the way was being made easy for him as it is
+      in books, as, indeed, it sometimes is in life, when it happens to be a way
+      that is not worth the treading; but the last word stung him like a lash&mdash;as
+      it was meant to sting. It was, perhaps, that one word that made him rise
+      from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you meant to object to anything that I may say, you should have done
+      so long ago,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Who was the first to speak at the hotel when I
+      came to The Hague? Which of us was it that kept the friendship up and
+      cultivated it? I am not blind. I could hardly be anything else, if I had
+      failed to see what you have meant all along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I meant all along?&rdquo; she asked, with a strange little smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you have meant me to say such things as I have said, and perhaps
+      more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More&mdash;what can you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him still with a smile, which he did not understand. And,
+      like many men, he allowed his vanity to explain things which his
+      comprehension failed to elucidate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, after a moment's hesitation, &ldquo;will you marry me? There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Roden, I will not,&rdquo; she answered promptly; and then suddenly her
+      eyes flashed, at some recollection, perhaps&mdash;at some thought
+      connected with her happy past contrasted with this sordid, ignoble
+      present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Marry you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; he asked, with a bitter little laugh, &ldquo;what is there wrong with
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know what there is wrong with you. And I am not interested to
+      inquire. But, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A woman's answer after all, and one of those reasons which are no reasons,
+      and yet rule the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at her, completely puzzled. In a flash of thought he recalled
+      Dorothy's warning, and her incomprehensible foresight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; he said, lapsing in his self-forgetfulness into the terse language
+      of his everyday life and thought, &ldquo;what on earth have you been driving at
+      all along?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been driving at Herr von Holzen and the Malgamite scheme. I have
+      been helping Tony Cornish,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Percy Roden quitted the house at the corner of Park Straat a wiser man,
+      and perhaps he left a wiser woman in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to Marguerite Wade, long afterwards, when
+      a sort of friendship had sprung up and ripened between them&mdash;&ldquo;my
+      dear, never let a man ask you to marry him unless you mean to say yes. It
+      will do neither of you any good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Marguerite, who never allowed another the last word, gave a shrewd
+      little nod before she answered&mdash;&ldquo;I always say no&mdash;before they
+      ask me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;There's not a crime&mdash;
+     But takes its proper change still out in crime
+     If once rung on the counter of this world.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish went back to The Hague immediately after Lord Ferriby's funeral
+      because it has been decreed that for all men, this large world shall
+      sooner or later narrow down to one city, perhaps, or one village, or a
+      single house. For a man's life is always centred round a memory or a hope,
+      and neither of those requires much space wherein to live. Tony Cornish's
+      world had narrowed to the Villa des Dunes on the sandhills of
+      Scheveningen, and his mind's eye was always turned in that direction. His
+      one thought at this time was to protect Dorothy&mdash;to keep, if
+      possible, the name she bore from harm and ill-fame. Each day that passed
+      meant death to the malgamite workers. He could not delay. He dared not
+      hurry. He wrote again to Percy Roden from London, amid the hurried
+      preparations for the funeral, and begged him to sever his connection with
+      Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not have time,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;to answer this before I leave for The
+      Hague. I shall stay on the Toornoifeld as usual, and hope to arrive about
+      nine o'clock to-morrow evening. I shall leave the hotel about a
+      quarter-past nine and walk down the right-hand bank of the Koninginne
+      Gracht, and should like to meet you by the canal, where we can have a
+      talk. I have many reasons to submit to your consideration why it will be
+      expedient for you to come over to my side in this difference now, which I
+      cannot well set down on paper. And remember that between men of the world,
+      such as I suppose we may take ourselves to be, there is no question of one
+      of us judging the other. Let me beg of you to consider your position in
+      regard to the Malgamite scheme&mdash;and meet me to-morrow night between
+      the Malie Veld and the Achter Weg about half-past nine. I cannot see you
+      at the works, and it would be better for you not to come to my hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The letter was addressed to the Villa des Dunes, where Roden received it
+      the next morning. Dorothy saw it, and guessed from whom it was, though she
+      hardly knew her lover's writing. He had adhered firmly to his resolution
+      to keep himself in the background until he had finished the work he had
+      undertaken. He had not written to her; had scarcely seen her. Roden read
+      the letter, and put it in his pocket without a word. It had touched his
+      vanity. He had had few dealings with men of the standing and position of
+      Cornish, and here was this peer's nephew and peer's grandson appealing to
+      him as to a friend, classing him together with himself as a man of the
+      world. No man has so little discretion as a vain man. It is almost
+      impossible for him to keep silence when speech will make for his
+      glorification. Roden arrived at the works well pleased with himself, and
+      found Von Holzen in their little office, put out, ill at ease,
+      domineering. It was unfortunate, if you will. Percy Roden was always ready
+      to perceive his own ill-fortune, and looked back later to this as one of
+      his most untoward hours. Life, however, should surely consist of seizing
+      the fortunate and fighting through the ill moments&mdash;else why should
+      men have heart and nerve?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In such humours as they found themselves it did not take long for these
+      two men to discover a question upon which to differ. It was a mere matter
+      of detail connected with the money at that time passing through their
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; said Roden, in the course of a useless and trivial dispute&mdash;&ldquo;of
+      course you think you know best, but you know nothing of finance&mdash;remember
+      that. Everybody knows that it is I who have run that part of the business.
+      Ask old Wade, or White&mdash;or Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The argument had, in truth, been rather one-sided. For Roden had done all
+      the talking, while Von Holzen looked at him with a quiet eye and a silent
+      contempt that made him talk all the more. Von Holzen did not answer now,
+      though his eye lighted at the mention of Cornish's name. He merely looked
+      at Roden with a smile, which conveyed as clearly as words Von Holzen's
+      suggestion that none of the three men named would be prepared to give
+      Roden a very good character. &ldquo;I had a letter, by the way, from Cornish
+      this morning,&rdquo; said Roden, lapsing into his grander manner, which Von
+      Holzen knew how to turn to account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah&mdash;bah!&rdquo; he exclaimed sceptically. And that lurking vanity of the
+      inferior to lessen his own inferiority did the rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you don't believe me, there you are,&rdquo; said Roden, throwing the letter
+      upon the table&mdash;not ill-pleased, in the heat of the moment, to show
+      that he was a more important person than his companion seemed to think.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen read the letter slowly and thoughtfully. The fact that it was
+      evidently intended for Roden's private eye did not seem to affect one or
+      the other of these two men, who had travelled, with difficulty, along the
+      road to fortune, only reaching their bourn at last with a light stock of
+      scruples and a shattered code of honour. Then he folded it, and handed it
+      back. He was not likely to forget a word of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you will go,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It will be interesting to hear what he
+      has to say. That letter is a confession of weakness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In making which statement Von Holzen showed his own weak point. For, like
+      many clever men, he utterly failed to give to women their place&mdash;the
+      leading place&mdash;in the world's history, as in the little histories of
+      our daily lives. He never detected Dorothy between every line of Cornish's
+      letter, and thought that it had only been dictated by inability to meet
+      the present situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot very well refuse to go since the fellow asks me,&rdquo; said Roden,
+      grandly. He might as well have displayed his grandeur to a statue. If love
+      is blind, self-love is surely half-witted as well, for it never sees nor
+      understands that the world is fooling it. Roden failed to heed the
+      significant fact that Von Holzen did not even ask him what line of conduct
+      he intended to follow with regard to Cornish, nor seek in his autocratic
+      way to instruct him on that point; but turned instead to other matters and
+      did not again refer to Cornish or the letter he had written.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the day wore on while Cornish impatiently walked the deck of the
+      steamer, ploughing its way across the North Sea, through showers and
+      thunderstorms and those grey squalls that flit to and fro on the German
+      Ocean. And some tons of malgamite were made, while a manufacturer or two
+      of the grim product laid aside his tools forever, while the money flowed
+      in, and Otto von Holzen thought out his deep silent plans over his vats
+      and tanks and crucibles. And all the while those who write in the book of
+      fate had penned the last decree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish arrived punctually at The Hague. He drove to the hotel, where he
+      was known, where, indeed, he had never relinquished his room. There was no
+      letter for him&mdash;no message from Percy Roden. But Von Holzen had
+      unobtrusively noted his arrival at the station from the crowded retreat of
+      the second-class waiting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day had been a very hot one, and from canal and dyke arose that sedgy
+      odour which comes with the cool of night in all Holland. It is hardly
+      disagreeable, and conveys no sense of unhealthiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It seems merely to be the breath of still waters, and, in hot weather,
+      suggests very pleasantly the relief of northern night. The Hague has two
+      dominant smells. In winter, when the canals are frozen, the reek of
+      burning-peat is on the air and in the summer the odour of slow waters.
+      Cornish knew them both. He knew everything about this old-world city,
+      where the turning-point of his life had been fixed. It was deserted now.
+      The great houses, the theatre&mdash;the show-places&mdash;were closed. The
+      Toornoifeld was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hotel porter, aroused by the advent of the traveller from an
+      after-dinner nap in his little glass box, spread out his hands with a
+      gesture of surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The season is over,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We are empty. Why you come to The Hague
+      now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even the sentries at the end of the Korte Voorhout wore a holiday air of
+      laxness, and swung their rifles idly. Cornish noticed that only half of
+      the lamps were lighted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banks of the Queen's Canal are heavily shaded by trees, which, indeed,
+      throw out their branches to meet above the weed-sown water. There is a
+      broad thoroughfare on either side of the canal, though little traffic
+      passes that way. These are two of the many streets of The Hague which seem
+      to speak of a bygone day, when Holland played a greater part in the
+      world's history than she does at present, for the houses are bigger than
+      the occupants must need, and the streets are too wide for the traffic
+      passing through them. In the middle the canal&mdash;a gloomy corridor
+      beneath the trees&mdash;creeps noiselessly towards the sea. Cornish was
+      before the appointed hour, and walked leisurely by the pathway between the
+      trees and the canal. Soon the houses were left behind, and he passed the
+      great open space called the Malie Veld. He had met no one since leaving
+      the guard-house. It was a dark night, with no moon, but the stars were
+      peeping through the riven clouds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless he stands under a lamp, I shall not see him,&rdquo; he said to himself,
+      and lighted a cigar to indicate his whereabouts to Roden, should he elect
+      to keep the appointment. When he had gone a few paces farther he saw
+      someone coming towards him. There was a lamp halfway between them, and, as
+      he approached the light, Cornish recognized Roden. There was no mistaking
+      the long loose stride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;if this is going to the end?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he went forward to meet the financier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid you would not come,&rdquo; he said, in a voice that was friendly
+      enough, for he was a man of the world, and in that which is called Society
+      (with a capital letter) had rubbed elbows all his life with many who had
+      no better reputation than Percy Roden, and some who deserved a worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't mind coming,&rdquo; answered Roden, &ldquo;because I did not want to keep
+      you waiting here in the dark. But it is no good, I tell you that at the
+      outset.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And nothing I can say will alter your decision?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. A man does not get two such chances as this in his lifetime. I
+      am not going to throw this one away for the sake of a sentiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sentiment hardly describes the case,&rdquo; said Cornish, thoughtfully. &ldquo;Do you
+      mean to tell me that you do not care about all these deaths&mdash;about
+      these poor devils of malgamiters?&rdquo; And he looked hard at his companion
+      beneath the lamp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a d&mdash;n,&rdquo; answered Roden. &ldquo;I have been poor&mdash;you haven't.
+      Why, man! I have starved inside a good coat. You don't know what that
+      means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked at him, and said nothing. There was no mistaking the man's
+      sincerity&mdash;nor the manner in which his voice suddenly broke when he
+      spoke of hunger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there are only two things left for me to do,&rdquo; said Cornish, after a
+      moment's reflection. &ldquo;Ask your sister to marry me first, and smash you up
+      afterwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, who was smoking, threw his cigarette away. &ldquo;You mean to do both
+      these things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at him. He opened his lips to speak, but suddenly leapt back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out!&rdquo; he cried, and had barely time to point over Cornish's
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish swung round on his heel. He belonged to a school and generation
+      which, with all its faults, has, at all events, the redeeming quality of
+      courage. He had long learnt to say the right thing, which effectually
+      teaches men to do the right thing also. He saw some one running towards
+      him, noiselessly, in rubber shoes. He had no time to think, and scarce a
+      moment in which to act, for the man was but two steps away with an
+      upraised arm, and in the lamplight there flashed the gleam of steel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish concentrated his attention on the upraised arm, seizing it with
+      both hands, and actually swinging his assailant off his legs. He knew in
+      an instant who it was, without needing to recognize the smell of
+      malgamite. This was Otto von Holzen, who had not hesitated to state his
+      opinion&mdash;that it is often worth a man's while to kill another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While his feet were still off the ground, Cornish let him go, and he
+      staggered away into the darkness of the trees. Cornish, who was lithe and
+      quick, rather than of great physical force, recovered his balance in a
+      moment, and turned to face the trees. He knew that Von Holzen would come
+      back. He distinctly hoped that he would. For man is essentially the first
+      of the &ldquo;game&rdquo; animals and beneath fine clothes there nearly always beats a
+      heart ready, quite suddenly, to snatch the fearful joy of battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did not disappoint him, but came flying on silent feet, like
+      some beast of prey, from the darkness. Cornish had played half-back for
+      his school not so many years before. He collared Von Holzen low, and let
+      him go, with a cruel skill, heavily on his head and shoulder. Not a word
+      had been spoken, and, in the stillness of the summer night, each could
+      hear the other breathing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden stood quite still. He could scarcely distinguish the antagonists.
+      His own breath came whistling through his teeth. His white face was
+      ghastly and twitching. His sleepy eyes were awake now, and staring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each charge had left Cornish nearer to the canal. He was standing now
+      quite at the edge. He could smell, but he could not see the water, and
+      dared not turn his head to look. There is no railing here as there is
+      nearer the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a moment, Von Holzen was on his feet again. In the dark, mere inches
+      are much equalized between men&mdash;but Von Holzen had a knife. Cornish,
+      who held nothing in his hands, knew that he was at a fatal disadvantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again, Von Holzen ran at him with his arm outstretched for a swinging
+      stab. Cornish, in a flash of thought, recognized that he could not meet
+      this. He stepped neatly aside. Von Holzen attempted to stop stumbled, half
+      recovered himself, and fell headlong into the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a moment Cornish and Roden were at the edge, peering into the darkness.
+      Cornish gave a breathless laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall have to fish him out,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he knelt down, ready to give a hand to Von Holzen. But the water,
+      smooth again now, was not stirred by so much as a ripple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose he can swim?&rdquo; muttered Roden, uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they waited in a breathless silence. There was something horrifying in
+      the single splash, and then the stillness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gad!&rdquo; whispered Cornish. &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden struck a match, and held it inside his hat so as to form a sort of
+      lantern, though the air was still enough. Cornish did the same, and they
+      held the lights out over the water, throwing the feeble rays right across
+      the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He cannot have swum away,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Von Holzen,&rdquo; he cried out
+      cautiously, after another pause&mdash;&ldquo;Von Holzen&mdash;where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But there was no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The surface of the canal was quite still and glassy in those parts that
+      were not covered by the close-lying duck-weed. The water crept stealthily,
+      slimily, towards the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men held their breath and waited. Cornish was kneeling at the edge
+      of the water, peering over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Gad! Roden, where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Roden, in a hoarse voice, answered at length &ldquo;He is in the mud at the
+      bottom&mdash;head downwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. AT THE CORNER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;L'homme s'agite et Dieu le mêne.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The two men on the edge of the canal waited and listened again. It seemed
+      still possible that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness&mdash;had
+      perhaps landed safely and unperceived on the other side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Cornish, at length, &ldquo;is a police affair. Will you wait here
+      while I go and fetch them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Roden made no answer, and in the sudden silence Cornish heard the
+      eerie sound of chattering teeth. Percy Roden had morally collapsed. His
+      mind had long been t a great tension, and this shock had unstrung him.
+      Cornish seized him by the arm, and held him while he hook like a leaf and
+      swayed heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, man,&rdquo; said Cornish, kindly&mdash;&ldquo;come, pull yourself together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held him steadily and patiently until the shaking eased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go,&rdquo; said Roden, at length. &ldquo;I couldn't stay ere alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he staggered away towards The Hague. It seemed hours before he came
+      back. A carriage rattled past Cornish while he waited there, and two
+      foot-passengers paused for a moment to look at him with some suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last Roden returned, accompanied by a police official&mdash;a
+      phlegmatic Dutchman, who listened to the story in silence. He shook his
+      head at Cornish's suggestion, made in halting Dutch mingled with German,
+      that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the officer, &ldquo;I know these canals&mdash;and this above all
+      others. They will find him, planted in the mud at the bottom, head
+      downward like a tulip. The head goes in and the hands are powerless, for
+      they only grasp soft mud like a fresh junket.&rdquo; He drew his short sword
+      from its sheath, and scratched a deep mark in the gravel. Then he turned
+      to the nearest tree, and made a notch on the bark with the blade. &ldquo;There
+      is nothing to be done tonight,&rdquo; he said philosophically. &ldquo;There are men
+      engaged in dredging the canal. I will set them to work at dawn before the
+      world is astir. In the mean time&rdquo;&mdash;he paused to return his sword to
+      its scabbard&mdash;&ldquo;in the meantime I must have the names and residence of
+      these gentlemen. It is not for me to believe or disbelieve their story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you go home alone? Are you all right now?&rdquo; Cornish asked Roden, as he
+      walked away with him towards the Villa des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I can go home alone,&rdquo; he answered, and walked on by himself,
+      unsteadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish watched him, and, before he had gone twenty yards, Roden stopped.
+      &ldquo;Cornish!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they walked towards each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that Von Holzen was there. You will believe that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I will believe that,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they parted a second time. Cornish walked slowly back to the hotel. He
+      limped a little, for Von Holzen had in the struggle kicked him on the
+      ankle. He suddenly felt very tired, but was not shaken. On the contrary,
+      he felt relieved, as if that which he had been attempting so long had been
+      suddenly taken from his hands and consummated by a higher power, with whom
+      all responsibility rested. He went to bed with a mechanical deliberation,
+      and slept instantly. The daylight was streaming into the window when he
+      awoke. No one sleeps very heavily at The Hague&mdash;no one knows why&mdash;and
+      Cornish awoke with all his senses about him at the opening of his bedroom
+      door. Roden had come in and was standing by the bedside. His eyes had a
+      sleepless look. He looked, indeed, as if he had been up all night, and had
+      just had a bath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; he said, in his hollow voice&mdash;&ldquo;I say, get up. They have
+      found him&mdash;and we are wanted. We have to go and identify him&mdash;and
+      all that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Cornish was dressing, Roden sat heavily down on a chair near the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hope you'll stick by me,&rdquo; he said, and, pausing, stretched out his hand
+      to the washing-stand to pour himself out a glass of water&mdash;&ldquo;I hope
+      you'll stick by me. I'm so confoundedly shaky. Don't know what it is&mdash;look
+      at my hand.&rdquo; He held out his hand, which shook like a drunkard's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is only nerves,&rdquo; said Cornish, who was ever optimistic and cheerful.
+      He was too wise to weigh carefully his reasons for looking at the best
+      side of events. &ldquo;That is nothing. You have not slept, I expect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I've been thinking. I say, Cornish&mdash;you must stick by me&mdash;I
+      have been thinking. What am I to do with the malgamiters? I cannot manage
+      the devils as Von Holzen did. I'm&mdash;I'm a bit afraid of them,
+      Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that will be all right. Why, we have Wade, and can send for White if
+      we want him. Do not worry yourself about that. What you want is breakfast.
+      Have you had any?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I left the house before Dorothy was awake or the servants were down.
+      She knows nothing. Dorothy and I have not hit it off lately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made no answer. He was ringing the bell, and ordered coffee when
+      the waiter came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't met any incident in life yet,&rdquo; he said cheerfully, &ldquo;that seemed
+      to justify missing out meals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The incident that awaited them was not, however, a pleasant one, though
+      the magistrate in attendance afforded a courteous assistance in the
+      observance of necessary formalities. Both men made a deposition before
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know something,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, &ldquo;of this malgamite business. We
+      have had our eye upon Von Holzen for some time&mdash;if only on account of
+      the death-rate of the city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They breathed more freely when they were out in the street. Cornish made
+      some unimportant remark, which the other did not answer. So they walked on
+      in silence. Presently, Cornish glanced at his companion, and was startled
+      at the sight of his face, which was grey, and glazed all over with
+      perspiration, as an actor's face may sometimes be at the end of a great
+      act. Then he remembered that Roden had not spoken for a long time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you see?&rdquo; gasped Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The things they had laid on the table beside him. The things they found
+      in his hands and his pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The knife, you mean,&rdquo; said Cornish, whose nerves were worthy of the blood
+      that flowed in his veins, &ldquo;and some letters?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the knife was mine. Everybody knows it. It is an old dagger that has
+      always lain on a table in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never been in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes, except once
+      by lamplight,&rdquo; said Cornish, indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned and looked at him with eyes still dull with fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And among the letters was the one you wrote to me making the appointment.
+      He must have stolen it from the pocket of my office coat, which I never
+      wear while I am working.&rdquo; Cornish was nodding his head slowly. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; he
+      said, at length&mdash;&ldquo;I see. It was a pretty <i>coup</i>. To kill me, and
+      fix the crime on you&mdash;and hang you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Roden, with a sudden laugh, which neither forgot to his dying
+      day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence. For there are times in nearly every man's life
+      when events seem suddenly to outpace thought, and we can only act as seems
+      best at the moment; times when the babbler is still and the busybody at
+      rest; times when the cleverest of us must recognize that the long and
+      short of it all is that man agitates himself and God leads him. At the
+      corner of the Vyverberg they parted&mdash;Cornish to return to his hotel,
+      Roden to go back to the works. His carriage was awaiting him in a shady
+      corner of the Binnenhof. For Roden had his carriage now, and, like many
+      possessing suddenly such a vehicle, spent much time and thought in getting
+      his money's worth out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you want me, send for me, or come to the hotel,&rdquo; were Cornish's last
+      words, as he shut the successful financier into his brougham.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the hotel, Cornish found Mr. Wade and Marguerite lingering over a late
+      breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look,&rdquo; said Marguerite, &ldquo;as if you had been up to something.&rdquo; She
+      glanced at him shrewdly. &ldquo;Have you smashed Roden's Corner?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, turning to Mr. Wade; &ldquo;and if you will come out
+      into the garden, I will tell you how it has been done. Monsieur Creil said
+      that the paper-makers could begin supplying themselves with malgamite at a
+      day's notice. We must give them that notice this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade, who was never hurried and never late, paused at the open window
+      to light his cigar before following Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; he said placidly, &ldquo;then fortune must have favored you, or something
+      has happened to Von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish knew that it was useless to attempt to conceal anything whatsoever
+      from the discerning Marguerite, so&mdash;in the quiet garden of the hotel,
+      where the doves murmur sleepily on the tiles, and the breeze only stirs
+      the flowers and shrubs sufficiently to disseminate their scents&mdash;he
+      told father and daughter the end of Roden's Corner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and
+      telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events, when
+      Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden
+      arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Percy here?&rdquo; she asked Cornish. &ldquo;Have you seen him this morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the
+      Vyverberg. He was going down to the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he never got there,&rdquo; said Dorothy. &ldquo;I have had nearly all the
+      malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if
+      Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a report
+      that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes. Von Holzen is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out the
+      profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury. They
+      would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they were afraid of you, my dear,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, filling in the
+      blank that Dorothy left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well played,&rdquo; muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. &ldquo;I will go down to the
+      works,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you cannot go there alone,&rdquo; put in Dorothy, quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will not need to do that,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, throwing the end of his
+      cigar into the bushes, and rising heavily from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at her father with a little upward jerk of the head and
+      a light in her eyes. It was quite evident that she approved of the old
+      gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's a game old thing,&rdquo; she said, aside to Dorothy, while her father
+      collected his papers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother has probably been warned in time, and will not go near the
+      works,&rdquo; said Cornish to Dorothy. &ldquo;He was more than prepared for such an
+      emergency; for he told me himself that he was half afraid of the men. He
+      is almost sure to come to me here&mdash;in fact, he promised to do so if
+      he wanted help.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy looked at him, and said nothing. The world would be a simpler
+      dwelling-place if those who, for one reason or another, cannot say exactly
+      what they mean would but keep silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish told her, hurriedly, what had happened twelve hours ago on the
+      bank of the Queen's Canal; and the thought of the misspent, crooked life
+      that had ended in the black waters of that sluggish tideway made them all
+      silent for a while. For death is in itself dignified, and demands respect
+      for all with whom he has dealings. Many attain the distinction of vice in
+      life, while more only reach the mere mediocrity of foolishness; but in
+      death all are equally dignified. We may, indeed, assume that we shall, by
+      dying, at last command the respect of even our nearest relations and
+      dearest friend&mdash;for a week or two, until they forget us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was a clever man,&rdquo; commented Mr. Wade, shutting up his gold pencil
+      case and putting it in the pocket of his comfortable waistcoat. &ldquo;But
+      clever men are rarely happy&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And clever women&mdash;never,&rdquo; added Marguerite&mdash;that shrewd seeker
+      after the last word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were still speaking, Percy Roden came hurriedly down the steps.
+      He was pale and tired, but his eye had a light of resolution in it. He
+      held his head up, and looked at Cornish with a steady glance. It seemed
+      that the vague danger which he had anticipated so nervously had come at
+      last, and that he stood like a man in the presence of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all up,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They have found the books; they have understood
+      them; and they are wrecking the place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are quite welcome to do that,&rdquo; said Cornish. Mr. Wade, who was
+      always business-like, had reopened his writing-case when he saw Roden, and
+      now came forward to hand him a written paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a copy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of the telegram we have sent to Creil. He can
+      come here and select what men he wants&mdash;the steady ones and the
+      skilled workmen. With each man we will hand him a cheque in trust. The
+      others can take their money&mdash;and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And drink themselves to death as expeditiously as they think fit,&rdquo; added
+      Cornish, the philanthropist&mdash;the fashionable drawing-room champion of
+      the masses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got back here through the Wood,&rdquo; said Percy Roden, who was still
+      breathless, as if he had been hurrying. &ldquo;One of them, a Swede, came to
+      warn me. They are looking for me in the town&mdash;a hundred and twenty of
+      them, and not one who cares that&rdquo;&mdash;he paused, and gave a snap of the
+      fingers&mdash;&ldquo;for his life or the law. Both railway stations are watched,
+      and all the steam-boat stations on the canals; they will kill me if they
+      catch me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyes wavered, for there is nothing more terrifying than the avowed
+      hostility of a mass of men, and no law grimmer than lynch-law. Yet he held
+      up his head with a sort of pride in his danger&mdash;some touch of that
+      subtle sense of personal distinction which seems to reach the heart of the
+      victim of an accident, or of a prisoner in the dock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had not met that Swede I should have gone on to the works, and they
+      would have pulled me to pieces there,&rdquo; continued Roden. &ldquo;I do not know how
+      I am to get away from The Hague, or where I shall be safe in the whole
+      world; but the money is at Hamburg and Antwerp. The money is safe enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He gave a laugh and threw back his head. His hearers looked at him, and
+      Mr. Wade alone understood his thoughts. For the banker had dealt with
+      money-makers all his life and knew that to many men, money is a god, and
+      the mere possession of it dearer to them than life itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you stay here, in my room upstairs,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;I will go down to
+      the works now. And this evening I will try and get you away from The Hague&mdash;and
+      from Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I will go to the Villa des Dunes again,&rdquo; added Dorothy, &ldquo;and pack
+      your things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had risen also, and was moving towards the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo; asked her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Villa des Dunes,&rdquo; she replied; and, turning to Dorothy, added, &ldquo;I
+      shall take some clothes and stay with you there until things straighten
+      themselves out a bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I cannot let you go there alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; asked Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because&mdash;I am not that sort,&rdquo; said Marguerite; and, turning, she
+      ascended the iron steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Les heureux ne rient pas; ils sourient.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Soon after Mr. Wade and Cornish had quitted their carriage, on that which
+      is known as the New Scheveningen Road, and were walking across the dunes
+      to the malgamite works, they met a policeman running towards them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered breathlessly, to their inquiries&mdash;&ldquo;it is the
+      English Chemical Works on the dunes, which have caught fire. I am hurrying
+      to the Artillery Station to telegraph for the fire-engines; but it will be
+      useless. It will all be over in half an hour&mdash;by this wind and after
+      so much dry weather; see the black smoke, excellencies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the man pointed towards a column of smoke, blown out over the
+      sand-hills by the strong wind, characteristic of these flat coasts. Then,
+      with a hurried salutation, he ran on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish and Mr. Wade proceeded more leisurely on their way; for the banker
+      was not of a build to hurry even to a fire. Before they had gone far they
+      perceived another man coming across the Dunes towards The Hague. As he
+      approached, Cornish recognized the man known as Uncle Ben. He was
+      shambling along on unsteady legs, and carried his earthly belongings in a
+      canvas sack of doubtful cleanliness. The recognition was apparently
+      mutual; for Uncle Ben deviated from his path to come and speak to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's me, mister,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, not disrespectfully. &ldquo;And I don't
+      mind tellin' yer that I'm makin' myself scarce. That place is gettin' a
+      bit too hot for me. They're just pullin' it down and makin' a bonfire of
+      it. And if you or Mr. Roden goes there, they'll just take and chuck yer on
+      top of it&mdash;and that's God's truth. They're a rough lot some of them,
+      and they don't distinguish 'tween you and Mr. Roden like as I do. Soddim
+      and Gomorrer, I say. Soddim and Gomorrer! There won't be nothin' left of
+      yer in half an hour.&rdquo; And he turned and shook a dirty fist towards the
+      rising smoke, which was all that remained of the malgamite works. He
+      hurried on a few paces, then stopped and laid down his bag. He ran back,
+      calling out &ldquo;Mister!&rdquo; as he neared Cornish and Mr. Wade. &ldquo;I don't mind
+      tellin' yer,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, with a ludicrous precautionary look
+      round the deserted dunes to make sure that he would not be overheard; for
+      he was sober, and consequently stupid&mdash;&ldquo;I don't mind tellin' yer&mdash;seein'
+      as I'm makin' myself scarce, and for the sake o' Miss Roden, who has
+      always been a good friend to me&mdash;as there's a hundred and twenty of
+      'em looking for Mr. Roden at this minute, meanin' to twist his neck; and
+      what's worse, there's others&mdash;men of dedication like myself&mdash;who
+      has gone to the murder, or something. And they'll get it too, with the
+      story they've got to tell, and them poor devils planted thick as taters in
+      the cheap corner of the cemetery. I've warned yer, mister.&rdquo; Uncle Ben
+      expectorated with much emphasis, looked towards the malgamite works with a
+      dubious shake of the head, and went on his way, muttering, &ldquo;Soddim and
+      Gomorrer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His hearers walked on over the sand-hills towards the smoke, of which the
+      pungent odour, still faintly suggestive of sealing-wax, reached their
+      nostrils. At the top of a high dune, surmounted with considerable
+      difficulty, Mr. Wade stopped. Cornish stood beside him, and from that
+      point of vantage they saw the last of the malgamite works. Amid the flames
+      and smoke the forms of men flitted hither and thither, adding fuel to the
+      fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are, at all events, doing the business thoroughly,&rdquo; said the banker.
+      &ldquo;And there is nothing to be gained by our disturbing them at it&mdash;and
+      a good deal to be lost&mdash;namely, our lives. They are not burning the
+      cottages, I see; only the factory. There is nothing heroic about me, Tony.
+      Let us go back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Wade returned to The Hague alone; for Cornish had matters of
+      importance requiring his attention. It was now doubly necessary to get
+      Roden safely away from Holland, and with the necessity increased the
+      difficulty. For Holland is a small country, well watched, highly
+      civilized. Cornish knew that it would be next to impossible for Roden to
+      leave the country by rail or road. There remained, therefore, the sea.
+      Cornish had, during his sojourn at the humble Swan at Scheveningen, made
+      certain friends there. And it was to the old village under the dunes,
+      little known to visitors, and a place apart from the fashionable bathing
+      resort, that he went in his difficulty. He spent nearly the whole day in
+      these narrow streets; indeed, he lunched at the Swan in company of a
+      seafaring gentleman clad in soft blue flannel, and addicted to the
+      mediaeval coiffure still affected in certain parts of Zeeland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From this quiet retreat Cornish also wrote a note to Dorothy at the Villa
+      des Dunes, informing her of Roden's new danger, and warning her not to
+      attempt to communicate with her brother, or even send him his baggage. In
+      the afternoon Cornish made a few purchases, which he duly packed in a
+      sailor's kit-bag, and at nightfall Roden arrived on foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The weather was squally, as it often is in August on these coasts; indeed,
+      the summer seemed to have come to an end before its time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is raining like the deuce,&rdquo; said Roden, &ldquo;and I am wet through, though
+      I came under the trees of the Oude Weg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke with his usual suggestion of a grievance, which made Cornish
+      answer him rather curtly&mdash;&ldquo;We shall be wetter before we get on
+      board.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was raining when they quitted the modest Swan, and hurried through the
+      sparsely lighted, winding streets. Cornish had borrowed two oil-skin coats
+      and caps, which at once disguised them and protected them from the rain.
+      Any passer-by would have taken them for a couple of fishermen going about
+      their business. But there were few in the streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you doing all this for me?&rdquo; asked Roden, suddenly. &ldquo;To avoid a
+      scandal,&rdquo; replied Cornish, truthfully enough; for he had been brought up
+      in a world where the longevity of scandal is fully understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wide stretch of sand was entirely deserted when they emerged from the
+      narrow streets and gained the summit of the sea-wall. A thunderstorm was
+      growling in the distance, and every moment a flash of thin summer
+      lightning shimmered on the horizon. The wind was strong, as it nearly
+      always is here, and shallow white surf stretched seaward across the flats.
+      The sea roared continuously without that rise and fall of the breakers
+      which marks a deeper coast, and from the face of the water there arose a
+      filmy mist&mdash;part foam, part phosphorescence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Roden and Cornish passed the little lighthouse, two policemen emerged
+      from the shadow of the wall, and watched them, half suspiciously. &ldquo;Good
+      evening,&rdquo; said one of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; answered Cornish, mimicking the sing-song accent of the
+      Scheveningen streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence. &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; ejaculated Roden, when the danger
+      seemed to be past, and they could breathe again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went down a flight of steps to the beach, and stumbled across the
+      soft sand towards the sea. One or two boats were lying out in the surf&mdash;heavy
+      Dutch fishing-boats, known technically as &ldquo;pinks,&rdquo; flat-bottomed,
+      round-prowed, keel less, heavy and ungainly vessels, but strong as wood
+      and iron and workmanship could make them. Some seemed to be afloat, others
+      bumped heavily and continuously; while a few lay stolidly on the ground
+      with the waves breaking right over them as over rocks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The noise of the sea was so great that Cornish touched his companion's
+      arm, and pointed, without speaking, to one of the vessels where a light
+      twinkled feebly through the spray breaking over her. It seemed to be the
+      only vessel preparing to go to sea on the high tide, and, in truth, the
+      weather looked anything but encouraging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are we going to get on board?&rdquo; shouted Roden, amid the roar of the
+      waves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk,&rdquo; answered Cornish, and he led the way into the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hampered as they were by their heavy oil skins, their progress was slow,
+      although the water barely reached their knees. The <i>Three Brothers</i>
+      was bumping when they reached her and clambered on board over the bluff
+      sides, sticky with salt water and tar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll be afloat in ten minutes,&rdquo; said a man in oil-skins, who helped
+      them over the low bulwarks. He spoke good English, and seemed to have
+      learned some of the taciturnity of the seafaring portion of that nation
+      with their language; for he went aft to the tiller without more words and
+      took his station there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden seated himself on the rail and looked back towards Scheveningen.
+      Cornish stood beside him in silence. The spray broke over them
+      continuously, and the boat rolled and bumped in such a manner that it was
+      impossible to stand or even sit without holding on to the clumsy rigging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lights of Scheveningen were stretched out in a line before them; the
+      lighthouse winked a glaring eye that seemed to stare over their heads far
+      out to sea. The summer lightning showed the sands to be bare and deserted.
+      There were no unusual lights on the sea wall. The Kurhaus and the hotels
+      were illuminated and gay. The shore took no heed of the sea tonight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've succeeded,&rdquo; said Roden, curtly, and quite suddenly he rolled over
+      in a faint at Cornish's feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, Dorothy received a letter at the Villa des Dunes, posted
+      the evening before by Cornish at Scheveningen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We hope to get away tonight,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;in the 'pink,' the <i>Three
+      Brothers</i>. Our intention is to knock about the North Sea until we find
+      a suitable vessel&mdash;either a sailing ship trading between Norway and
+      Spain on its way south, or a steamer going direct from Hamburg to South
+      America. When I have seen your brother safely on board one of these
+      vessels, I shall return in the <i>Three Brothers</i> to Scheveningen. She
+      is a small boat, and has a large white patch of new canvas at the top of
+      her mainsail. So if you see her coming in, or waiting for the tide, you
+      may conclude that your brother is in safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Later in the day, Mr. Wade called, having driven from The Hague very
+      comfortably in an open carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house,&rdquo; he said placidly, &ldquo;is still watched, but I have no doubt that
+      Tony has outwitted them all. Creil arrived last night, and seems a capable
+      man. He tells me that half of the malgamiters are in jail at The Hague for
+      intoxication and uproariousness last night. He is selecting those he
+      wants, and the rest he will send to their homes. So we are balancing our
+      affairs very comfortably; and if there is anything I can do for you, Miss
+      Roden, I am at your command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Dorothy is all right,&rdquo; said Marguerite, rather hurriedly; and when
+      her father took his leave, she slipped her hand within his solid arm, and
+      walked with him across the sand towards the carriage. &ldquo;Haven't you seen,&rdquo;
+       she asked&mdash;&ldquo;you old stupid!&mdash;that Dorothy is all right? Tony is
+      in love with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the banker, rather humbly&mdash;&ldquo;no, my dear. I am afraid I
+      had not noticed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite pressed his arm, not unkindly. &ldquo;You can't help it,&rdquo; she
+      explained. &ldquo;You are only a man, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The following days were quiet enough at the Villa des Dunes, and it is in
+      quiet days that a friendship ripens best. The two girls left there
+      scarcely expected to hear of Cornish's return for some days; but they fell
+      into the habit of walking towards the sea whenever they went out-of-doors,
+      and spent many afternoon hours on the dunes. During these hours Dorothy
+      had many confidential and lively conversations with her new-found friend.
+      Indeed, confidence and gaiety were so bewilderingly mingled that Dorothy
+      did not always understand her companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One afternoon, three days after the departure of Percy Roden, when Von
+      Holzen was buried, and the authorities had expressed themselves content
+      with the verdict that he had come accidentally by his death, Marguerite
+      took occasion to congratulate herself, and all concerned, in the fact that
+      what she vaguely called &ldquo;things&rdquo; were beginning to straighten themselves
+      out.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;We are round the corner,&rdquo; she said decisively. &ldquo;And now papa and I
+shall go home again, and Miss Williams will come back. Miss
+Williams&mdash;oh, lord! She is one of those women who have a stick inside
+them instead of a heart. And papa will trot out his young men&mdash;likely
+young men from the city. Papa married the bank, you know. And he wants
+ me to marry another bank and live gorgeously ever afterwards. Poor old
+dear!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think he would rather you were happy than gorgeous,&rdquo; said Dorothy, with
+      a laugh, who had seen some of the honest banker's perplexity with regard
+      to this most delicate financial affair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he would. At all events, he does his best&mdash;his very best. He
+      has tried at least fifty of these gentle swains since I came back from
+      Dresden&mdash;red hair and a temper, black hair and an excellent opinion
+      of one's self, fair hair and stupidity. But they wouldn't do&mdash;they
+      wouldn't do, Dorothy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite paused, and made a series of holes in the sand with her
+      walking-stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was only one,&rdquo; she said quietly, at length. &ldquo;I suppose there is
+      always&mdash;only one&mdash;eh, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, looking straight in front of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite was silent for a while, looking out to sea with a queer little
+      twist of the lips that made her look older&mdash;almost a woman. One could
+      imagine what she would be like when she was middle-aged, or quite old,
+      perhaps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would have done,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Quite easily. He was a million times
+      cleverer than the rest&mdash;a million times&mdash;well, he was quite
+      different, I don't know how. But he was paternal. He thought he was much
+      too old, so he didn't try&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a light laugh, and her confidential manner was gone in
+      a flash. She stuck her stick firmly into the ground, and threw herself
+      back on the soft sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; she cried gaily. <i>&ldquo;Vogue la galère</i>. It's all for the best.
+      That is the right thing to say when it cannot be helped, and it obviously
+      isn't for the best. But everybody says it, and it is always wise to pass
+      in with the crowd, and be conventional&mdash;if you swing for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off suddenly, looking at her companion's face. A few boats had
+      been leisurely making for the shore all the afternoon before a light wind,
+      and Dorothy had been watching them. They were coming closer now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothy, do you see the <i>Three Brothers</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the <i>Three Brothers</i>,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, pointing with her
+      walking-stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time they were silent, until, indeed, the boat with the patched sail
+      had taken the ground gently, a few yards from the shore. A number of men
+      landed from her, some of them carrying baskets of fish. One, walking
+      apart, made for the dunes, in the direction of the New Scheveningen Road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is Tony,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;I should know his walk&mdash;if I
+      saw him coming out of the Ark, which, by the way, must have been rather
+      like the <i>Three Brothers</i> to look at. He has taken your brother
+      safely away, and now he is coming&mdash;to take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may remember that I am Percy's sister,&rdquo; suggested Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn't matter whose sister you are,&rdquo; was the decisive reply. &ldquo;Nothing
+      matters&rdquo;&mdash;Marguerite rose slowly, and shook the sand from her dress&mdash;&ldquo;nothing
+      matters, except one thing, and that appears to be a matter of absolute
+      chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She climbed slowly to the summit of the dune under which they had been
+      sitting, and there, pausing, she looked back. She nodded gaily down at
+      Dorothy. Then suddenly, she held out her hands before her, and Cornish,
+      looking up, saw her slim young form poised against the sky in a mock
+      attitude of benediction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you, my dears,&rdquo; she cried, and with a short laugh turned and walked
+      towards the Villa des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      THE END
+    </h3>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9324-h.htm or 9324-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/9/3/2/9324/
+
+
+Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&ldquo;the Foundation&rdquo;
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; appears, or with which the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo; is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+&ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original &ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, &ldquo;Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.&rdquo;
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+&ldquo;Defects,&rdquo; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &ldquo;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&rdquo; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/9324.txt b/9324.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1a7908
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,10317 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+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: Roden's Corner
+
+Author: Henry Seton Merriman
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9324]
+This file was first posted on September 22, 2003
+Last Updated: May 5, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RODEN'S CORNER
+
+By Henry Seton Merriman
+
+1913
+
+
+                  "'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
+                  Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
+                    Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
+                  And one by one back in the Closet lays"
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER
+
+I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT
+
+II. WORK OK PLAY?
+
+III. BEGINNING AT HOME
+
+IV. A NEW DISCIPLE
+
+V. OUT OF EGYPT
+
+VI. ON THE DUNES
+
+VII. OFFICIAL
+
+VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE
+
+IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST
+
+X. DEEPER WATER
+
+XI. IN THE OUDE WEG
+
+XII. SUBURBAN
+
+XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN
+
+XIV. UNSOUND
+
+XV. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVI. DANGER
+
+XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING
+
+XVIII. A COMPLICATION
+
+XIX. DANGER
+
+XX. FROM THE PAST
+
+XXI. A COMBINED FORCE
+
+XXII. GRATITUDE
+
+XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT
+
+XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT
+
+XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
+
+XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM
+
+XXVII. COMMERCE
+
+XXVIII. WITH CARE
+
+XXIX. A LESSON
+
+XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL
+
+XXXI. AT THE CORNER
+
+XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
+
+"The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life."
+
+
+"It is the Professor von Holzen," said a stout woman who still keeps
+the egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague;
+she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob
+Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers
+live--"it is the Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or
+twice a week. He is a good man."
+
+"His coat is of a good cloth," answered her customer, a young man with
+a melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things
+of this world.
+
+Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
+Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within
+the doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages.
+During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough,
+see furtive faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women,
+who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those
+unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere
+which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop
+below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into the
+service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils
+which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and
+thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors,
+with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only
+expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other
+heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within
+the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous
+effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this street. Even the
+children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes and
+drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life, and
+rarely indulge in games.
+
+He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed
+quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire
+to attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered
+man with a bad mouth--a greedy mouth, one would think--and mild eyes.
+The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black overcoat
+closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of
+slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke
+learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use
+being learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took
+care to dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards
+the world seemed to say, "Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,"
+which is, after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It
+is, at all events, better than the common attitude of the many, that
+says, "Let us exchange confidences," leading to the barter of two
+valueless commodities.
+
+The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat--one of
+the oldest houses in this old street--and slowly lighted a cigar. There
+is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of
+stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen,
+having pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and
+grimy staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the
+town there is always a human spider lurking in the background, who
+steals out upon any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
+
+This spider presently appeared--a wizened woman with a face like that
+of a witch. Von Holzen pointed upward to the room above them. She shook
+her head regretfully.
+
+"Still alive," she said.
+
+And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom
+step.
+
+"Here," he said, extending his fingers. "Some milk. How much has he
+had?"
+
+"Two jugs," she replied, "and three jugs of water. One would say he has
+a fire inside him."
+
+"So he has," said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went
+upstairs. He ascended slowly, puffing out the smoke of his cigar before
+him with a certain skill, so that his progress was a form of
+fumigation. The fear of infection is the only fear to which men will
+own, and it is hard to understand why this form of cowardice should be
+less despicable than others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation
+combines courage with so deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes
+think the former adjunct lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek
+told that in his student days this man had, after due deliberation,
+considered it necessary to fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face,
+might wonder what mark the other student bore as a memento of that
+encounter.
+
+Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
+and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place
+was not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered
+with many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was,
+indeed, used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the
+shop only offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have
+been a very Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all
+parts of the world rose up and wrangled in the air.
+
+Upon a sham Empire table, _tres antique_, near the window, stood three
+water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
+stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held
+it out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
+
+"I have sent for milk," said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful
+not to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was
+situated.
+
+"You are kind," said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether
+its tone was sarcastic or grateful.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged
+his shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth
+usually indicates a soft heart.
+
+"It is because you have something to gain," said the hollow voice from
+the bed.
+
+"I have something to gain, but I can do without it," replied Von
+Holzen, turning to the door and taking a jug of milk from the hand of a
+child waiting there.
+
+"And the change," he said sharply.
+
+The child laughed cunningly, and held out two small copper coins of the
+value of half a cent.
+
+Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a
+moment later held it out empty.
+
+"You may have as much as you like," said Von Holzen, kindly.
+
+"Will it keep me alive?"
+
+"Nothing can do that, my friend," answered Von Holzen. He looked down
+at the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be
+the face of a very aged man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A
+thickness of speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
+
+The man laughed gleefully. "All the same, I have lived longer than any
+of them," he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an
+advantage which others never covet!
+
+"Yes," answered Von Holzen, gravely. "How old are you?"
+
+"Nearly thirty-five," was the answer.
+
+Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of
+the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a
+fine one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high
+forehead looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing
+nearly an inch upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver in
+life, without curl or ripple. The chin was long and pointed. A face,
+this, that any would turn to look at again. One would think that such
+a man would get on in the world. But none may judge of another in this
+respect. It is a strange fact that intimacy with any who has made for
+himself a great name leads to the inevitable conclusion that he is
+unworthy of it.
+
+"Wonderful!" murmured Von Holzen--"wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!" And
+it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that
+came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
+
+"And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it
+from boyhood," said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado. "I did not
+wait until I was driven to it, like most."
+
+"Yes, you were skilful, as I have been told."
+
+"Not all skill--not all skill," piped the metallic voice, indistinctly.
+"There was knowledge also."
+
+Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin
+overcoat, shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an
+oft-trodden path to an ancient point of divergence. Presently Von
+Holzen turned and went towards the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay
+stretched out across the table, and Holzen's finger softly found the
+pulse.
+
+"You are weaker," he said. "It is only right that I should tell you."
+
+The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something
+seemed to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive
+steps moved away down the dark staircase.
+
+"Go," he said authoritatively, "for the doctor, at once." Then he came
+back towards the bed. "Will you take my price?" he said to its
+occupant. "I offer it to you for the last time."
+
+"A thousand gulden?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is too little money," replied the dying man. "Make it twelve
+hundred."
+
+Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence
+seemed to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room.
+The angel of death, not for the first time, found himself in company
+with the greed of men.
+
+"I will do that," said Von Holzen at length, "as you are dying."
+
+"Have you the money with you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah!" said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps,
+that he was sorry that he had not asked more. "Sit down," he said, "and
+write."
+
+Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil
+in readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored
+memory, the dying man dictated a prescription in a mixture of dog-Latin
+and Dutch, which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The
+money, in dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The
+prescription was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and
+the particulars as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid
+ingredients filled up another two pages.
+
+"There," said the dying man at length, "I have treated you fairly. I
+have told you all I know. Give me the money."
+
+Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow
+fingers, which closed over them.
+
+"Ah," said the recipient, "I have had more than that in my hand. I was
+rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing.
+I will treat you fairly."
+
+Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
+
+"Yes," said the other. "One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden.
+You have made no mistake."
+
+Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore
+no sign of exultation. His somewhat phlegmatic calm successfully
+concealed the fact that he had at last obtained information which he
+had long sought. A cart rattled past over the cobble-stones, making
+speech inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von
+Holzen went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching
+out for it, the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were
+tightly held by three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at
+the counterpane. Von Holzen bent over the bed and examined the face.
+The sick man's eyes were closed. Suddenly he spoke in a mumbling
+voice--"And now that you have what you want, you will go."
+
+"No," answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, "I will not do that. I will
+stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at
+all events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to
+die."
+
+"You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death
+cannot be worse, at all events." And the man laughed contentedly
+enough, as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of
+them at last.
+
+Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting
+in the air laden with the clean scent of burning peat, which makes the
+atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a
+city with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German
+scientist stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange
+silence. It was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it
+was what is known as an antiquity; and although some of these relics of
+the past had been carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem
+Straat, others were really of ancient date. The very glass from which
+the dying man drank his milk dated from the glorious days of Holland
+when William the Silent pitted his Northern stubbornness and deep
+diplomacy against the fire and fanaticism of Alva. Many objects in the
+room had a story, had been in the daily use of hands long since
+vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human lives lived out
+and now forgotten. The air itself smelt of age and mouldering memories.
+
+Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking
+down. Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow
+that lay over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was
+breathing very slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then
+returned to the dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly
+his breath caught. There were long pauses during which he seemed to
+cease to breathe. Then at length followed a pause which merged itself
+gently into eternity.
+
+Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly
+unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled notes.
+Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and
+restored them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour
+earlier.
+
+He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor
+arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
+
+"I am afraid, Herr Doctor," he said, in German, "You are too late."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+WORK OR PLAY?
+
+       "Get work, get work;
+   Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get."
+
+
+Two men were driving in a hansom cab westward through Cockspur Street.
+One, a large individual of a bovine placidity, wore the Queen's
+uniform, and carried himself with a solid dignity faintly suggestive of
+a lighthouse. The other, a narrower man, with a keen, fair face and
+eyes that had an habitual smile, wore another uniform--that of society.
+He was well dressed, and, what is rarer carried his fine clothes with
+such assurance that their fineness seemed not only natural but
+indispensable.
+
+"Sic transit the glory of this world," he was saying. At this moment
+three men on the pavement--the usual men on the pavement at such
+times--turned and looked into the cab.
+
+"'Ere's White!" cried one of them. "White--dash his eyes! Brayvo!
+brayvo, White!"
+
+And all three raised a shout which seemed to be taken up vaguely in
+various parts of Trafalgar Square, and finally died away in the
+distance.
+
+"That is it," said the young man in the frock-coat; "that is the glory
+of this world. Listen to it passing away. There is a policeman touching
+his helmet. Ah, what a thing it is to be Major White--to-day!
+To morrow--_bonjour la gloire_!"
+
+Major White, who had dropped his single eye-glass a minute earlier, sat
+squarely looking out upon the world with a mild surprise. The eye from
+which the glass had fallen was even more surprised than the other. But
+this, it seemed, was a man upon whom the passing world made, as a rule,
+but a passing impression. His attitude towards it was one of dense
+tolerance. He was, in fact, one of those men who usually allow their
+neighbours to live in a fool's-paradise, based upon the assumption of a
+blindness or a stupidity or an indifference, which may or may not be
+justified by subsequent events.
+
+This was, as Tony Cornish, his companion, had hinted, _the_ White of
+the moment. Just as the reader may be the Jones or the Tomkins of the
+moment if his soul thirst for glory. Crime and novel-writing are the
+two broad roads to notoriety, but Major White had practiced neither
+felony nor fiction. He had merely attended to his own and his country's
+business in a solid, common-sense way in one of those obscure and tight
+places into which the British officer frequently finds himself forced
+by the unwieldiness of the empire or the indiscretion of an
+effervescent press.
+
+That he had extricated himself and his command from the tight place,
+with much glory to themselves and an increased burden to the cares of
+the Colonial Office, was a fact which a grateful country was at this
+moment doing its best to recognize. That the authorities and those who
+knew him could not explain how he had done it any more than he himself
+could, was another fact which troubled him as little. Major White was
+wise in that he did not attempt to explain.
+
+"That sort of thing," he said, "generally comes right in the end." And
+the affair may thus be consigned to that pigeon-hole of the past in
+which are filed for future reference cases where brilliant men have
+failed and unlikely ones have covered themselves with sudden and
+transient glory.
+
+There had been a review of the troops that had taken part in a short
+and satisfactory expedition of which, by what is usually called a lucky
+chance, White found himself the hero. He was not of the material of
+which heroes are made; but that did not matter. The world will take a
+man and make a hero of him without pausing to inquire of what stuff he
+may be. Nay, more, it will take a man's name and glorify it without so
+much as inquiring to what manner of person the name belongs.
+
+Tony Cornish, who went everywhere and saw everything, was of course
+present at the review, and knew all the best people there. He passed
+from carriage to carriage in his smart way, saying the right thing to
+the right people in the right words, failing to see the wrong people
+quite in the best manner, and conscious of the fact that none could
+surpass him. Then suddenly, roused to a higher manhood by the tramp of
+steady feet, by the sight of his lifelong friend White riding at the
+head of his tanned warriors, this social success forgot himself. He
+waved his silk hat and shouted himself hoarse, as did the honest
+plumber at his side.
+
+"That's better work than yours nor mine, mister," said the plumber,
+when the troops were gone; and Tony admitted, with his ready smile,
+that it was so. A few minutes later Tony found Major White solemnly
+staring at a small crowd, which as solemnly stared back at him, on the
+pavement in front of the Horse Guards.
+
+"Here, I have a cab waiting for me," he had said; and White followed
+him with a mildly bewildered patience, pushing his way gently through
+the crowd as through a herd of oxen.
+
+He made no comment, and if he heard sundry whispers of "That's 'im," he
+was not unduly elated. In the cab he sat bolt upright, looking as if
+his tunic was too tight, as in all probability it was. The day was hot,
+and after a few jerks he extracted a pocket-handkerchief from his
+sleeve.
+
+"Where are you going?" he asked.
+
+"Well, I was going to Cambridge Terrace. Joan sent me a card this
+morning saying that she wanted to see me," explained Tony Cornish. He
+was a young man who seemed always busy. His long thin legs moved
+quickly, he spoke quickly, and had a rapid glance. There was a
+suggestion of superficial haste about him. For an idle man, he had
+remarkably little time on his hands.
+
+White took up his eye-glass, examined it with short-sighted
+earnestness, and screwed it solemnly into his eye.
+
+"Cambridge Terrace?" he said, and stared in front of him.
+
+"Yes. Have you seen the Ferribys since your glorious return to
+these--er--shores?" As he spoke, Cornish gave only half of his
+attention. He knew so many people that Piccadilly was a work of
+considerable effort, and it is difficult to bow gracefully from a
+hansom cab.
+
+"Can't say I have."
+
+"Then come in and see them now. We shall find only Joan at home, and
+she will not mind your fine feathers or the dust and circumstance of
+war upon your boots. Lady Ferriby will be sneaking about in the
+direction of Edgware Road--fish is nearly two pence a pound cheaper
+there, I understand. My respected uncle is sure to be sunning his
+waistcoat in Piccadilly. Yes, there he is. Isn't he splendid? How do,
+uncle?" and Cornish waved a grey Suede glove with a gay nod.
+
+"How are the Ferribys?" inquired Major White, who belonged to the curt
+school.
+
+"Oh, they seem to be well. Uncle is full of that charity which at all
+events has its headquarters in the home counties. Aunt--well, aunt is
+saving money."
+
+"And Miss Ferriby?" inquired White, looking straight in front of him.
+
+Cornish glanced quickly at his companion. "Oh, Joan?" he answered. "She
+is all right. Full of energy, you know--all the fads in their courses."
+
+"You get 'em too."
+
+"Oh yes; I get them too. Buttonholes come and buttonholes go. Have you
+noticed it? They get large. Neapolitan violets all over your left
+shoulder one day, and no flowers at all the week after." Cornish spoke
+with a gravity befitting the subject. He was, it seemed a student of
+human nature in his way. "Of course," he added, laying an impressive
+forefinger on White's gold-laced cuff, "it would never do if the world
+remained stationary."
+
+"Never," said the major, darkly. "Never."
+
+They were talking to pass the time. Joan Ferriby had come between them,
+as a woman is bound to come between two men sooner or later. Neither
+knew what the other thought of Joan Ferriby, or if he thought of her at
+all. Women, it is to be believed, have a pleasant way of mentioning the
+name of a man with such significance that one of their party changes
+colour. When next she meets that man she does it again, and perhaps he
+sees it, and perhaps his vanity, always on the alert, magnifies that
+unfortunate blush. And they are married, and live unhappily ever
+afterwards. And--let us hope there is a hell for gossips. But men are
+different in their procedure. They are awkward and _gauche_. They talk
+of newspaper matters, and on the whole there is less harm done.
+
+The hansom cab containing these two men pulled up jerkily at the door
+of No. 9, Cambridge Terrace. Tony Cornish hurried to the door, and rang
+the bell as if he knew it well. Major White followed him stiffly. They
+were ushered into a library on the ground floor, and were there
+received by a young lady, who, pen in hand, sat at a large table
+littered with newspaper wrappers.
+
+"I am addressing the Haberdashers' Assistants," she said, "but I am
+very glad to see you."
+
+Miss Joan Ferriby was one of those happy persons who never know a
+doubt. One must, it seems, be young to enjoy this nineteenth-century
+immunity. One must be pretty--it is, at all events, better to be
+pretty--and one must dress well. A little knowledge of the world, a
+decisive way of stating what pass at the moment for facts, a quick
+manner of speaking--and the rest comes _tout seul_. This cocksureness
+is in the atmosphere of the day, just as fainting and curls and an
+appealing helplessness were in the atmosphere of an earlier Victorian
+period.
+
+Miss Ferriby stood, pen in hand, and laughed at the confusion on the
+table in front of her. She was eminently practical, and quite without
+that self-consciousness which in a bygone day took the irritating form
+of coyness. Major White, with whom she shook hands _en camarade_, gazed
+at her solemnly.
+
+"Who are the Haberdashers' Assistants?" he asked.
+
+Miss Ferriby sat down with a grave face. "Oh, it is a splendid
+charity," she answered. "Tony will tell you all about it. It is an
+association of which the object is to induce people to give up riding
+on Saturday afternoons, and to lend their bicycles to haberdashers'
+assistants who cannot afford to buy them for themselves. Papa is
+patron."
+
+Cornish looked quickly from one to the other. He had always felt that
+Major White was not quite of the world in which Joan and he moved. The
+major came into it at times, looked around him, and then moved away
+again into another world, less energetic, less advanced, less rapid in
+its changes. Cornish had never sought to interest his friend in sundry
+good works in which Joan, for instance, was interested, and which
+formed a delightful topic for conversation at teatime.
+
+"It is so splendid," said Joan, gathering up her papers, "to feel that
+one is really doing something."
+
+And she looked up into White's face with an air of grave enthusiasm
+which made him drop his eye-glass.
+
+"Oh yes," he answered, rather vaguely.
+
+Cornish had already seated himself at the table, and was folding the
+addressed newspaper wrappers over circulars printed on thick
+note-paper. This seemed a busy world into which White had stepped. He
+looked rather longingly at the newspaper wrappers and the circulars,
+and then lapsed into the contemplation of Joan's neat fingers as she
+too fell to the work.
+
+"We saw all about you," said the girl, in her bright, decisive way, "in
+the newspapers. Papa read it aloud. He is always reading things aloud
+now, out of the _Times_. He thinks it is good practice for the
+platform, I am sure. We were all"--she paused and banged her energetic
+fist down upon a pile of folded circulars which seemed to require
+further pressure--"very proud, you know, to know you."
+
+"Good Lord!" ejaculated White, fervently.
+
+"Well, why not?" asked Miss Ferriby, looking up. She had expressive
+eyes, and they now flashed almost angrily. "All English people----" she
+began, and broke off suddenly, throwing aside the papers and rising
+quickly to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on White's tunic. "Is that a
+medal?" she asked, hurrying towards him. "Oh, how splendid! Look, Tony,
+look! A medal! Is it"--she paused, looking at it closely--"is it--the
+Victoria Cross?" she asked, and stood looking from one man to the
+other, her eyes glistening with something more than excitement.
+
+"Um--yes," admitted White.
+
+Tony Cornish had risen to his feet also. He held out his hand.
+
+"I did not know that," he said.
+
+There was a pause. Tony and Joan returned to their circulars in an odd
+silence. The Haberdashers' Assistants seemed suddenly to have
+diminished in importance.
+
+"By-the-by," said Joan Ferriby at length, "papa wants to see you, Tony.
+He has a new scheme. Something very large and very important. The only
+question is whether it is not too large. It is not only in England, but
+in other countries. A great international affair. Some distressed
+manufacturers or something. I really do not quite know. That Mr.
+Roden--you remember?--has been to see him about it."
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick way. "I remember Roden," he answered. "The
+man you met at Hombourg. Tall dark man with a tired manner."
+
+"Yes," answered Joan. "He has been to see papa several times. Papa is
+just as busy as ever with his charities," she continued, addressing
+White. "And I believe he wants you to help him in this one."
+
+"Me?" said White, nervously. "Oh, I'm no good. I should not know a
+haberdasher's assistant if I saw him."
+
+"Oh, but this is not the Haberdashers' Assistants," laughed Joan. "It
+is something much more important than that. The Haberdashers'
+Assistants are only----"
+
+"Pour passer le temps," suggested Cornish, gaily.
+
+"No, of course not. But papa is really rather anxious about this. He
+says it is much the most important thing he has ever had to do
+with--and that is saying a good deal, you know. I wish I could remember
+the name of it, and of those poor unfortunate people who make
+it--whatever it is. It is some stuff, you know, and sounds sticky. Papa
+has so many charities, and such long names to them. Aunt Susan says it
+is because he was so wild in his youth--but one cannot believe that.
+Would you think that papa had been wild in his youth--to look at him
+now?"
+
+"Lord, no!" ejaculated White, with pious solidity, throwing back his
+shoulders with an air that seemed to suggest a readiness to fight any
+man who should hint at such a thing, and he waved the mere thought
+aside with a ponderous gesture of the hand.
+
+Joan had, however, already turned to another matter. She was consulting
+a diary bound in dark blue morocco.
+
+"Let me see, now," she said. "Papa told me to make an appointment with
+you. When can you come?"
+
+Cornish produced a minute engagement-book, and these two busy people
+put their heads together in the search for a disengaged moment. Not
+only in mind, but in face and manner, they slightly resembled each
+other, and might, by the keen-sighted, have been set down at once as
+cousins. Both were fair and slightly made, both were quick and clever.
+Both faced the world with an air of energetic intelligence that bespoke
+their intention of making a mark upon it. Both were liable to be
+checked in a moment of earnest endeavour by a sudden perception of the
+humorous, which liability rendered them somewhat superficial, and apt
+of it lightly from one thought to another.
+
+"I wish I could remember the name of papa's new scheme," said Joan, as
+she bade them good-bye. When they were in the cab she ran to the door.
+"I remember," she cried. "I remember now. It is malgamite."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+BEGINNING AT HOME.
+
+"Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but it does not
+relieve all the misery it creates."
+
+
+Charity, as all the world knows, should begin at an "at home." Lord
+Ferriby knew as well as any that there are men, and perhaps even women,
+who will give largely in order that their names may appear largely and
+handsomely in the select subscription lists. He also knew that an
+invitation card in the present is as sure a bait as the promise of
+bliss hereafter. So Lady Ferriby announced by card (in an open envelope
+with a halfpenny stamp) that she should be "at home" to certain persons
+on a certain evening. And the good and the great flocked to Cambridge
+Terrace. The good and great are, one finds, a little mixed, from a
+social point of view.
+
+There were present at Lady Ferriby's, for instance, a number of
+ministers, some cabinet, others dissenting. Here, a man leaning against
+the wall wore a blue ribbon across his shirt front. There, another,
+looking bigger and more self-confident, had no shirt front at all. His
+was the cheap distinction of unsuitable clothes.
+
+"Ha! Miss Ferriby, glad to see you," he said as he entered, holding out
+a hand which had the usual outward signs of industrial honesty.
+
+Joan shook the hand frankly, and its possessor passed on.
+
+"Is that the gas-man?" inquired Major White, gravely. He had been
+standing beside her ever since his arrival, seeking, it seemed, the
+protection of one who understood these social functions. It is to be
+presumed that the major was less bewildered than he looked.
+
+"Hush!" And Joan said something hurriedly in White's large ear.
+"Everybody has him," she concluded; and the explanation brought certain
+calm into the mildly surprised eye behind the eye-glass. White
+recognized the phrase and its conclusive contemporary weight.
+
+"Here's a flat-backed man!" he exclaimed, with a ring of relief. "Been
+drilled, this man. Gad! He's proud!" added the major, as the
+new-comer passed Joan with rather a cold bow.
+
+"Oh, that's the detective," explained Joan. "So many people, you know;
+and so mixed. Everybody has them. Here's Tony--at last."
+
+Tony Cornish was indeed making his way through the crowd towards them.
+He shook hands with a bishop as he elbowed a path across the room, and
+did it with the pious face of a self-respecting curate. The next minute
+he was prodding a sporting baronet in the ribs at the precise moment
+when that nobleman reached the point of his little story and on the
+precise rib where he expected to be prodded. It is always wise to do
+the expected.
+
+At the sight of Tony Cornish, Joan's face became grave, and she turned
+towards him with her little frown of preoccupation, such as one might
+expect to find upon the face of a woman concerned in the great
+movements of the day. But before Tony reached her the expression
+changed to a very feminine and even old-fashioned one of annoyance.
+
+"Oh, here comes mother!" she said, looking beyond Cornish, who was
+indeed being pursued by a wizened little old lady.
+
+Lady Ferriby, it seemed, was not enjoying herself. She glanced
+suspiciously from one face to another, as if she was seeking a friend
+without any great hope of finding one. Perhaps, like many another, she
+looked upon the world from that point Of view.
+
+Cornish hurried up and shook hands. "Plenty of people," he said.
+
+"Oh yes," answered Joan, earnestly. "It only shows that there is, after
+all, a great deal of good in human nature, that in such a movement as
+this rich and poor, great and small, are all equal."
+
+Cornish nodded in his quick sympathetic way, accepting as we all accept
+the social statements of the day, which are oft repeated and never
+weighed. Then he turned to White and tapped that soldier's arm
+emphatically.
+
+"Way to get on nowadays," he said, "is to be prominent in some great
+movement for benefiting mankind." Joan heard the words, and, turning,
+looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.
+
+"And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan," he said, with a
+gravity which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off
+instantly, as if swept away by the ready smile which came again. A
+close observer might have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real
+Tony Cornish.
+
+Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary
+never changed.
+
+Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment--a silent, querulous-looking
+woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
+wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which
+commands respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady
+Ferriby, and had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when
+she approached. And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance,
+her bent and shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with
+a romantic past. It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion
+of Lady Ferriby's world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and
+recognized the melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic
+attachment in the days of one's youth.
+
+"Tony," said her ladyship, "they have eaten all the sandwiches."
+
+And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony
+Cornish's arm with her fan that suggested in a far-off, cold way that
+this social butterfly had reached one of the still strings of her
+heart. Who knows? There may have been, in those dim days when Lady
+Ferriby had played her part in the romantic story which all hinted at
+and none knew, another such as Tony Cornish--gay and debonair,
+careless, reckless, and yet endowed with the power of making some poor
+woman happy.
+
+"My dear aunt," replied Cornish, with a levity with which none other
+ever dared to treat her, "the benevolent are always greedy. And each
+additional virtue--temperance, loving-kindness, humility--only serves
+to dull the sense of humour and add to the appetite. Give them
+biscuits, aunt."
+
+And offering her his arm, he good-naturedly led her to the
+refreshment-room to investigate the matter. As she passed through the
+crowded rooms, she glanced from face to face with her quick, seeking
+look. She cordially disliked all these people. And their principal
+crime was that they ate and drank. For Lady Ferriby was a miser.
+
+At the upper end of the room a low platform served as a safe retreat
+for sleepy chaperons on such occasions as the annual Ferriby ball.
+ To-night there were no chaperons. Is not charity the safest as well as
+the most lenient of these? And does her wing not cover a multitude of
+indiscretions?
+
+Upon this platform there now appeared, amid palms and chrysanthemums, a
+long, rotund man like a bolster. He held a paper in his hand and wore a
+platform smile. His attitude was that of one who hesitated to demand
+silence from so well-bred a throng. His high, narrow forehead shone in
+the light of the candelabra. This was Lord Ferriby--a man whose best
+friend did his best for him in describing him as well-meaning. He gave
+a cough which had sufficient significance in it to command a momentary
+quiet. During the silence, a well-dressed parson stood on tiptoe and
+whispered something in Lord Ferriby's ear. The suggestion, whatever it
+may have been, was negated by the speaker on receipt of a warning shake
+of the head from Joan.
+
+"Er--ladies and gentlemen," said Lord Ferriby, and gained the necessary
+silence. "Er--you all know the purpose of our meeting here to-night.
+You all know that Lady Ferriby and myself are much honoured by your
+presence here. And--er--I am sure----" He did not, however, appear to be
+quite sure, for he consulted his paper, and the colonial bishop near
+the yellow chrysanthemums said, "Hear, hear!"
+
+"And I am sure that we are, one and all, actuated by a burning desire
+to relieve the terrible distress which has been going on unknown to us
+in our very midst."
+
+"He has missed out half a page," said Joan to Major White, who somehow
+found himself at her side again.
+
+"This is no place, and we have at the moment no time, to go into the
+details of the manufacture of malgamite. Suffice it to say, that such
+a--er--composition exists, and that it is a necessity in the
+manufacture of paper. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the painful fact has
+been brought to light by my friend Mr. Roden----" His lordship paused,
+and looked round with a half-fledged bow, but failed to find Roden.
+
+"By--er--Mr. Roden that the manufacture of malgamite is one of the
+deadliest of industries. In fact, the makers of malgamite, and
+fortunately they are comparatively few in number, stricken as they are
+by a corroding disease, occupy in our midst the--er--place of the
+lepers of the Bible."
+
+Here Lord Ferriby bowed affably to the bishop, as if to say, "And that
+is where _you_ come in."
+
+"We--er--live in an age," went on Lord Ferriby--and the practical Joan
+nodded her head to indicate that he was on the right track now--"when
+charity is no longer a matter of sentiment, but rather a very practical
+and forcible power in the world. We do not ask your assistance in a
+vague and visionary crusade against suffering. We ask you to help us in
+the development of a definite scheme for the amelioration of the
+condition of our fellow-beings."
+
+Lord Ferriby spoke not with the ease of long practice, but with the
+assurance of one accustomed to being heard with patience. He now waited
+for the applause to die away.
+
+"Who put him up to it?" Major White asked Joan.
+
+"Mr. Roden wrote the speech, and I taught it to papa," was the answer.
+
+At this moment Cornish hurried up in his busy way. Indeed, these people
+seemed to have little time on their hands. They belonged to a
+generation which is much addicted to unnecessary haste.
+
+"Seen Roden?" he asked, addressing his question to Joan and her
+companion jointly.
+
+"Never in my life," answered Major White. "Is he worth seeing?"
+
+But Cornish hurried away again. Lord Ferriby was still speaking, but he
+seemed to have lost the ear of his audience, and had lapsed into
+generalities. A few who were near the platform listened attentively
+enough. Some who hoped that they were to be asked to speak applauded
+hurriedly and finally whenever the speaker paused to take breath.
+
+The world is full of people who will not give their money, but offer
+readily enough what they call their "time" to a good cause. Lord
+Ferriby was lavish with his "time," and liked to pass it in hearing the
+sound of his own voice. Every social circle has its talkers, who hang
+upon each other's periods in expectance of the moment when they can
+successfully push in their own word. Lord Ferriby, looking round upon
+faces well known to him, saw half a dozen men who spoke upon all
+occasions with a sublime indifference to the fact that they knew
+nothing of the subject in hand. With the least encouragement any one of
+them would have stepped on to the platform bubbling over with
+eloquence. Lord Ferriby was quite clever enough to perceive the danger.
+He must go on talking until Roden was found. Had not the pushing parson
+already intimated in a whisper that he had a few earnest thoughts in
+his mind which he would be glad to get off?
+
+Lord Ferriby knew those earnest thoughts, and their inevitable tendency
+to send the audience to the refreshment-room, where, as Lady Ferriby's
+husband, he suspected poverty in the land.
+
+"Is not Mr. Cornish going to speak?" a young lady eagerly inquired of
+Joan. She was a young lady who wore spectacles and scorned a fringe--a
+dangerous course of conduct for any young woman to follow. But she made
+up for natural and physical deficiencies by an excess of that zeal
+which Talleyrand deplored.
+
+"I think not," answered Joan. "He never speaks in public, you know."
+
+"I wonder why?" said the young lady, sharply and rather angrily.
+
+Joan shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She sometimes wondered why
+herself, but Tony had never satisfied her curiosity. The young lady
+moved away and talked to others of the same matter. There were quite a
+number of people in the room who wanted to know why Tony Cornish did
+not speak, and wished he would. The way to rule the world is to make it
+want something, and keep it wanting.
+
+"I make so bold as to hope," Lord Ferriby was saying, "that when
+sufficient publicity has been given to our scheme we shall be able to
+raise the necessary funds. In the fulness of this hope, I have ventured
+to jot down the names of certain gentlemen who have been kind enough to
+assume the trusteeship. I propose, therefore, that the trustees of the
+Malgamite Fund shall be--er--myself----"
+
+Like a practiced speaker, Lord Ferriby paused for the applause which
+duly followed. And certain elderly gentlemen, who had been young when
+Marmaduke Ferriby was young, looked with much interest at the pictures
+on the wall. That Lord Ferriby should assume the directorship of a
+great charity was to send that charity on its way rejoicing. He stood
+smiling benevolently and condescendingly down upon the faces turned
+towards him, and rejoiced inwardly over these glorious obsequies of a
+wild and deplorable past.
+
+"Mr. Anthony Cornish," he read out, and applause made itself heard
+again.
+
+"Major White."
+
+And the listeners turned round and stared at that hero, whom they
+discovered calmly and stolidly entrenched behind the eye-glass, his
+broad, tanned face surmounting a shirt front of abnormal width.
+
+"Herr von Holzen."
+
+No one seemed to know Herr von Holzen, or to care much whether he
+existed or not.
+
+"And--my--er--friend--the originator of this great scheme--the man whom
+we all look up to as the benefactor of a most miserable class of
+men--Mr. Percy Roden."
+
+Lord Ferriby meant the listeners to applaud, and they did so, although
+they had never heard the name before. He folded the paper held in his
+hand, and indicated by his manner that he had for the moment nothing
+more to say. From his point of advantage he scanned the whole length of
+the large room, evidently seeking some one. Anthony Cornish had been
+the second name mentioned, and the majority hoped that it was he who
+was to speak next. They anticipated that he, at all events, would be
+lively, and in addition to this recommendation there hovered round his
+name that mysterious charm which is in itself a subtle form of
+notoriety. People said of Tony Cornish that he would get on in the
+world; and upon this slender ladder he had attained social success.
+
+But Cornish was not in the room, and after waiting a few moments, Lord
+Ferriby came down from the platform, and joined some of the groups of
+persons in the large room. For already the audience was breaking up
+into small parties, and the majority, it is to be feared, were by now
+talking of other matters. In these days we cannot afford to give
+sufficient time to any one object to do that object or ourselves any
+lasting good.
+
+Presently there was a stir at the door, and Cornish entered the large
+room, followed leisurely by a tired-looking man, for whom the idlers
+near the doorway seemed instinctively to make way. This man was tall,
+square-shouldered, and loose of limb. He had smooth dark hair, and
+carried his head thrown rather back from the neck. His eyes were dark,
+and the fact that a considerable line of white was visible beneath the
+pupil imparted to his whole being an air of physical delicacy
+suggestive of a constant feeling of fatigue.
+
+"Who is this?" asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid
+curiosity which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening.
+
+"Oh, that," said Joan, looking towards the door--"that is Mr. Percy
+Roden."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A NEW DISCIPLE.
+
+"Pour etre heureux, il ne faut avoir rien a oublier."
+
+
+There is in the atmosphere of the Hotel of the Vieux Doelen at The
+Hague something as old-world, as quiet and peaceful, as there is in the
+very name of this historic house. The stairs are softly carpeted; the
+great rooms are hung with tapestry, and otherwise decorated in a
+massive and somewhat gloomy style, little affected in the newer
+_caravanserais_. The house itself, more than three hundred years old,
+is of dark red brick with facings of stone, long since worn by wind and
+weather. The windows are enormous, and would appear abnormal in any
+other city but this. The Hotel of the Old Shooting gallery stands on
+the Toornoifeld and the unobservant may pass by without distinguishing
+it from the private houses on either side. This, indeed, is not so much
+a house of hasty rest for the passing traveler as it is a halting-place
+for that great army which is ever moving quietly on and on through the
+cities of the Old World--the corps diplomatique--the army whose
+greatest victory is peace. The traveller passing a night or two at the
+hotel may well be faintly surprised at the atmosphere in which he finds
+himself. If he be what is called a practical man, he will probably
+shake his head forebodingly over the prospects of the proprietor. There
+seems, indeed, to be a singular dearth of visitors. The winding stairs
+are nearly always deserted. The _salon_ is empty. There are no sounds
+of life, no trunks in the hall, and no idlers at the door. And yet at
+the hour of the _table d'hote_ quiet doors are opened, and quiet men
+emerge from rooms that seemed before to be uninhabited. They are mostly
+smooth-haired men with a pensive reserve of manner, a certain polished
+cosmopolitan air, and the inevitable frock-coat. They bow gravely to
+each other, and seat themselves at separate tables. As often as not
+they produce books or newspapers, and read during the solemn meal. It
+is as well to watch these men and take note of them. Many of them are
+grey-headed. No one of them is young. But they are beginners, mere
+apprentices, at a very difficult trade, and in the days to come they
+will have the making of the history of Europe. For these men are
+attaches and secretaries of embassies. They will talk to you in almost
+any European tongue you may select, but they are not communicative
+persons.
+
+During the winter--the gay season at The Hague--there are usually a
+certain number of residents in the hotel. At the time with which we are
+dealing, Mrs. Vansittart was staying there, alone with her maid. Mrs.
+Vansittart was in the habit of dining at the small table near the
+stove--a gorgeous erection of steel and brass, which stands nearly in
+the centre of the smaller dining-room used in winter. Mrs. Vansittart
+seemed, moreover, to be quite at home in the hotel, and exchanged bows
+with a few of the gentlemen of the corps diplomatique. She was a
+graceful, dark-haired woman, with deep brown eyes that looked upon the
+world without much interest. This was not, one felt, a woman to lavish
+her attention or her thoughts upon a toy spaniel, as do so many ladies
+travelling alone with their maids in Continental hotels. Perhaps this
+woman of thirty-five years or so preferred to be frankly bored, rather
+than set up for herself a shivering four-legged object in life. Perhaps
+she was not bored at all. One never knows. The gentlemen from the
+embassies glanced at her over their books or their newspapers, and
+wondered who and what she might be. They knew, at all events, that she
+took no interest in those affairs of the great world which rumble on
+night and day without rest, with spasmodic bursts of clumsy haste, and
+with a never-failing possibility of surprise in their movements. This
+was no political woman, whatever else she might be. She would talk in
+quite a number of languages of such matters as the opera, a new book,
+or an old picture, and would then relapse again into a sort of waiting
+silence. At thirty-five it is perhaps not well to wait too patiently
+for those things that make a woman's life worth living. Mrs. Vansittart
+had not the air, however, of one who would wait indefinitely.
+
+When Mr. Percy Roden arrived at the hotel, he was assigned, at the hour
+of _table d'hote_, a small table between those occupied respectively by
+Mrs. Vansittart and the secretary of the Belgian Embassy. Some subtle
+sense conveyed to Percy Roden that he had aroused Mrs. Vansittart's
+interest--the sense called vanity, perhaps, which conveys so much to
+young men, and so much that is erroneous. On the second evening,
+therefore, when he had returned from a busy day in the neighbourhood of
+Scheveningen, Roden half looked for the bow which was half accorded to
+him. That evening Mrs. Vansittart spoke to the waiter in English, which
+was obviously her native language, and Roden overheard. After dinner
+Mrs. Vansittart lingered in the _salon_ and a woman, had such been
+present, would have perceived that she made it easy for Roden to pause
+in passing and offer her his English newspaper, which had arrived by
+the evening post. The subtle is so often the obvious that to be
+unobservant is a social duty.
+
+"Thank you," she replied. "I like newspapers. Although I have not been
+in England for years, I still take an interest in the affairs of my
+country."
+
+Her manner was easy and natural, without that taint of a too sudden
+familiarity which is characteristic of the present generation. We are
+apt to allow ourselves to feel too much at home.
+
+"I, on the contrary," replied Roden, with his tired air, "have never
+till now been out of England or English-speaking colonies."
+
+His voice had a hollow sound. Although he was tall and
+broad-shouldered, his presence had no suggestion of strength. Mrs.
+Vansittart looked at him quickly as she took the newspaper from his
+hand. She had clever, speculative eyes, and was obviously wondering why
+he had gone to the colonies and why he had returned thence. So many
+sail to those distant havens of the unsuccessful under one cloud and
+return under another, that it seems wiser to remain stationary and
+snatch what passing sunshine there may be. Roden had not a colonial
+manner. He was well dressed. He was, in fact, the sort of man who would
+pass in any society. And it is probable that Mrs. Vansittart summed him
+up in her quick mind with perfect success. Despite our clothes, despite
+our airs and graces, we mostly appear to be exactly what we are. Mrs.
+Vansittart, who knew the world and men, did not need to be informed by
+Percy Roden that he was unacquainted with the Continent. Comparing him
+with the other men passing through the _salon_ to their rooms or their
+club, it became apparent that he had one sort of stiffness which they
+had not, and lacked another sort of stiffness which grows upon those
+who live and take their meals in public places. Mrs. Vansittart could
+probably have made a fair guess at the sort of education Percy Roden
+had received. For a man carries his school mark through life with him.
+
+"Ah," she said, taking the newspaper and glancing at it with just
+sufficient interest to prolong the conversation, "then you do not know
+The Hague. It is a place that grows upon one. It is one of the social
+capitals of the world. Vienna, St. Petersburg, Paris, are the others.
+Madrid, Berlin, New York, are--nowhere."
+
+She laughed, bowed with a little half--foreign gesture of thanks, and
+left him--left him, moreover, with the desire to see more of her. It
+seemed that she knew the secret of that other worldling, Tony Cornish,
+that the way to rule men is to make them want something and keep them
+wanting. As Roden passed through the hall he paused, and entered into
+conversation with the hall porter. During the course of this talk he
+made some small inquiries respecting Mrs. Vansittart. That lady had no
+need to make inquiries respecting Roden. Has it not been stated that
+she was travelling with her maid?
+
+"I see," she said, when she saw him again the next day after dinner in
+the _salon_, "that your great philanthropic scheme is now an
+established fact. I have taken a great interest in its progress, and of
+course know the names of some who are associated with you in it."
+
+Roden laughed indifferently, well pleased to be recognized. His
+notoriety was new enough and narrow enough to please him still. There
+is no man so much at the mercy of his own vanity as he who enjoys a
+limited notoriety.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "we have got it into shape. Do you know Lord
+Ferriby?"
+
+"No," answered Mrs. Vansittart, slowly, "I have not that pleasure.
+
+"Oh, Ferriby is a good enough fellow," said Roden, kindly; and Mrs.
+Vansittart gave a little nod as she looked at him. Roden had drawn
+forward a chair, and she sat down, after a moment's hesitation, in
+front of the open fire.
+
+"So I have always heard," she answered, "and a great philanthropist."
+
+"Oh--yes." Roden paused and took a chair. "Oh yes; but Tony Cornish is
+our right-hand man. The people seem to place greater faith in him than
+they do in Lord Ferriby. When it is Cornish who asks, they give readily
+enough. He is business-like and quick, and that always tells in the
+long run."
+
+Percy Roden seemed disposed to be communicative, and Mrs. Vansittart's
+attitude was distinctly encouraging. She leant sideways on the arm of
+her chair, and looked at her companion with speculation in her
+intelligent eyes. She was perhaps reflecting that this was not the sort
+of man one usually finds engaged in philanthropic enterprise. It is
+likely that her thoughts were of this nature, and were, as thoughts so
+often are, transmitted silently to her companion's mind, for he
+proceeded, unasked, to explain.
+
+"It is not, properly speaking, a charity, you know," he said. "It is
+more in the nature of a trade union. This is a practical age, Mrs.
+Vansittart, and it is necessary that charity should keep pace with the
+march of progress and be self-supporting."
+
+There was a faint suggestion of glibness in his manner. It was probable
+that he had made use of the same arguments before.
+
+"And who else is associated with you in this great enterprise?" asked
+the lady, keeping him with the cleverness of her sex upon the subject
+in which he was obviously deeply interested. The shrewdest women
+usually treat men thus, and they generally know what subject interests
+a man most--namely, himself.
+
+"Herr von Holzen is the most important person," replied Roden.
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, looking into the fire; "and who is Herr von
+Holzen?"
+
+Roden paused for a moment, and the lady, looking half indifferently
+into the fire, noticed the hesitation.
+
+"Oh, he is a scientist--a professor at one of the universities over
+here, I believe. At all events, he is a very clever fellow--analytical
+chemist and all that, you know. It is he who has made the discovery
+upon which we are working. He has always been interested in malgamite,
+and he has now found out how it may be manufactured without injury to
+the workers. Malgamite, you understand, is an essential in the
+manufacture of paper, and the world will never require less paper than
+it does now, but more. Look at the tons that pass through the
+post-offices daily. Paper-making is one of the great industries of the
+world, and without malgamite, paper cannot be made at a profit to-day."
+
+Roden seemed to have his subject at his fingers' ends, and if he spoke
+without enthusiasm, the reason was probably that he had so often said
+the same thing before.
+
+"I am much interested," said Mrs. Vansittart, in her half-foreign way,
+which was rather pleasing. "Tell me more about it."
+
+"The malgamite makers," went on Roden, willingly enough, "are
+fortunately but few in numbers and they are experts. They are to be
+found in twos and threes in manufacturing cities--Amsterdam,
+Gothenburg, Leith, New York, and even Barcelona. Of course there are a
+number in England. Our scheme, briefly, is to collect these men
+together, to build a manufactory and houses for them--to form them, in
+fact, into a close corporation, and then supply the world with
+malgamite."
+
+"It is a great scheme, Mr. Roden."
+
+"Yes, it is a great scheme; and it is, I think, laid upon the right
+lines. These people require to be saved from themselves. As they now
+exist, they are well paid. They are engaged in a deadly industry, and
+know it. There is nothing more demoralizing to human nature than this
+knowledge. They have a short and what they take to be a merry life."
+The tired--looking man paused and spread out his hands in a gesture of
+careless scorn. He had almost allowed himself to lapse into enthusiasm.
+"There is no reason," he went on, "why they should not become a happy
+and respectable community. The first thing we shall have to teach them
+is that their industry is comparatively harmless, as it will
+undoubtedly be with Von Holzen's new process. The rest will, I think,
+come naturally. Altered circumstances will alter the people
+themselves."
+
+"And where do you intend to build this manufactory?" inquired Mrs.
+Vansittart, to whom was vouch-safed that rare knowledge of the fine
+line that is to be drawn between a kindly interest and a vulgar
+curiosity. The two are nearer than is usually suspected.
+
+"Here in Holland," was the reply. "I have almost decided on the
+spot--on the dunes to the north of Scheveningen. That is why I am
+staying at The Hague. There are many reasons why this coast is
+suitable. We shall be in touch with the canal system, and we shall have
+a direct outfall to the sea for our refuse, which is necessary. I shall
+have to live in The Hague--my sister and I."
+
+"Ah! You have a sister?" said Mrs. Vansittart, turning in her chair and
+looking at him. A woman's interest in a man's undertaking is invariably
+centred upon that point where another woman comes into it.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Unmarried?"
+
+"Yes; Dorothy is unmarried."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave several quick little nods of the head.
+
+"I am wondering two things," she said--"whether she is like you, and
+whether she is interested in this scheme. But I am wondering more than
+that. Is she pretty, Mr. Roden?"
+
+"Yes, I think she is pretty."
+
+"I am glad of that. I like girls to be pretty. It makes their lives so
+much more interesting--to the onlooker, _bien entendu_, but not to
+themselves. The happiest women I have known have been the plain ones.
+But perhaps your sister will be pretty and happy too. That would be so
+nice, and so very rare, Mr. Roden. I shall look forward to making her
+acquaintance. I live in The Hague, you know. I have a house in Park
+Straat, and I am only at this hotel while the painters are in
+possession. You will allow me to call on your sister when she joins
+you?"
+
+"We shall be most gratified," said Roden.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had risen with a little glance at the clock, and her
+companion rose also. "I am greatly interested in your scheme," she
+said. "Much more than I can tell you. It is so refreshing to find
+charity in such close connection with practical common sense. I think
+you are doing a great work, Mr. Roden."
+
+"I do what I can," he replied, with a bow.
+
+"And Mr. Von Holzen," inquired Mrs. Vansittart, stopping for a moment
+as she moved towards the doorway, which is large and hung with
+curtains--"does Mr. Von Holzen work from purely philanthropic motives
+also?"
+
+"Well--yes, I think so. Though, of course, he, like myself, will be
+paid a salary. Perhaps, however, he is more interested in malgamite
+from a scientific point of view."
+
+"Ah, yes, from a scientific point of view, of course. Good night, Mr.
+Roden."
+
+And she left him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+OUT OF EGYPT.
+
+"Un esclave est moins celui qu'on vend que celui qui se donne"
+
+
+A sea fog was blowing across the smooth surface of the Maas where that
+river is broad and shallow, and a steamer anchored in the channel, grim
+and motionless, gave forth a grunt of warning from time to time, while
+a boy with mittened hands rang the bell hung high on the forecastle
+with a dull monotony. The wind blowing from the south-east drove before
+it the endless fog which hummed through the rigging, and hung there in
+little icicles that pointed to leeward. On the bridge of the steamer,
+looking like a huge woollen barrel surmounted by a comforter and a cap
+with ear-flaps, the Dutch pilot stood philosophically at his post. Near
+him the captain, mindful of the company's time-tables, walked with a
+quick, impatient step. The fog was blowing past at the rate of four or
+five miles an hour, but the supply of it, emanating from the low lands
+bordering the Scheldt, seemed to be inexhaustible. This fog, indeed,
+blows across Holland nearly the whole winter.
+
+The steamer's deck was covered with ice, over which sand had been
+strewn. The passengers were below in the warm saloon. Only the
+blue-faced boy at the bell on the forecastle was on the main-deck. At
+times one of the watch hurried from the galley to the forecastle with a
+pannikin of steaming coffee. The vessel had been anchored since
+daybreak and the sound of other bells and other whistles far and near
+told that she was not alone in these waters. The distant boom of a
+steamer creeping cautiously down from Rotterdam seemed to promise that
+farther inland the fog was thinner. A silence, broken only by the
+whisper of the wind through the rigging, reigned over all, so that men
+listened with anticipations of relief for the sound of answering bells.
+The sky at length grew a little lighter, and presently gaps made their
+appearance in the fog, allowing peeps over the green and still water.
+
+The captain and the pilot exchanged a few words--the very shortest of
+consultations. They had been on the bridge together all night, and had
+said all that there was to be said about wind and weather. The captain
+gave a sharp order in his gruff voice, and, as if by magic, the watch
+on deck appeared from all sides. The chief officer emerged from his
+cabin beneath the wheel-house, and went forward into the fog, turning
+up his collar. Presently the jerk and clink of the steam-winch told
+that the anchor was being got home. The fog had been humoured for six
+hours, and the time had now come to move on through thick or thin. What
+should Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, know of a fog on the Maas? And there
+were mails and passengers on board this steamer. The clink of the winch
+brought one of these on deck. Within the high collar of his fur coat,
+beneath the brim of a felt hat pulled well down, the keen; fair face of
+Mr. Anthony Cornish came peering up the gangway to the upper bridge. He
+exchanged a nod with the captain and the pilot; for with these he had
+already been in conversation at the breakfast-table. He took his
+station on the bridge behind them, with his hands deep in the pockets
+of his loose coat, a cigarette between his lips. A shout from the
+forecastle soon intimated that the anchor was up, and the captain gave
+the order to the boy at the engine-room telegraph. Through the fog the
+forms of the three men on the look-out on the forecastle were dimly
+discernible. The great steamer crept cautiously forward into the fog.
+The second mate, with his hand on the whistle-line, blared out his
+warning note every half-minute. A dim shadow loomed up on the
+port-side, which presently took the form of a great steamer at anchor,
+and was left behind with a ringing bell and a booming whistle. Another
+shadow turned out to be a pilot-cutter, and the Dutch pilot exchanged a
+shouted consultation with an invisible person whom he called "Thou,"
+and who replied to the imperfectly heard questions with the words,
+"South East." This shadow also was left behind, faintly calling, "South
+East," "South East."
+
+"It is a white buoy that I seek," said the pilot, turning to those on
+the bridge behind him, his jolly red face puckered with anxiety. And
+quite suddenly the second officer, a bright-red Scotchman with little
+blue eyes like tempered gimlets, threw out a red hand and pointing
+finger.
+
+"There she rides," he said. "There she rides; staar boarrrd your
+hellum!"
+
+And a full thirty seconds elapsed before any other eyes could pierce
+that gloom and perceive a great white buoy bowing solemnly towards the
+steamer like a courtier bidding a sovereign welcome. One voice had
+seemed to be gradually dominating the din of the many warning whistles
+that sounded ahead, astern, and all around the steamer. This voice,
+like that of a strong man knowing his own mind in an assembly of
+excited and unstable counsellors, had long been raised with a
+persistence which at last seemed to command all others, and the steamer
+moved steadily towards it; for it was the siren fog-horn at the
+pier-head. At one moment it seemed to be quite near, and at the next
+far away; for the ears, unaided by the eyes, can but imperfectly focus
+sound or measure its distance.
+
+"At last!" said the captain, suddenly, the anxiety wiped away from his
+face as if by magic. "At last, I hear the cranes aworking on the quay."
+
+The purser had come to the bridge, and now approached Cornish.
+
+"Are you going to land them at the Hook or take them on to Rotterdam,
+sir?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, land 'em at the Hook," replied Cornish, readily. "Have you fed
+them?"
+
+"Yes, sir. They have had their breakfast--such as it is. Poor eaters I
+call them, sir."
+
+"Yes." said Cornish, turning and looking at his burly interlocutor.
+"Yes, I do not suppose they eat much."
+
+The purser shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention to other
+affairs, thoughtfully. The little, beacon at the head of the pier had
+suddenly loomed out of the fog not fifty yards away--a very needle in a
+pottle of hay, which the cunning of the pilot had found.
+
+"Who are they, at any rate--these hundred and twenty ghosts of men?"
+asked the sailor, abruptly.
+
+"They are malgamite workers," answered Cornish, cheerily. "And I am
+going to make men of them--not ghosts."
+
+The purser looked at him, laughed in rather a puzzled way, and quitted
+the bridge. Cornish remained there, taking a quick, intelligent
+interest in the manoeuvres by which the great steamer was being brought
+alongside the quay. He seemed to have already forgotten the hundred and
+twenty men in the second-class cabin. His touch was indeed hopelessly
+light. He understood how it was that the steamer was made to obey, but
+he could not himself have brought her alongside. Cornish was a true son
+of a generation which understands much of many things, but not quite
+sufficient of any one.
+
+He stood at the upper end of the gangway as the malgamite workers filed
+off--a sorry crew, narrow-chested, hollow-eyed, with that
+half-hopeless, half-reckless air that tells of a close familiarity with
+disease and death. He nodded to them airily as they passed him. Some of
+them took the trouble to answer his salutation, others seemed
+indifferent. A few glanced at him with a sort of dull wonder. And
+indeed this man was not of the material of which great philanthropists
+are made. He was cheerful and heedless, shallow and superficial.
+
+"Get 'em into the train," he said to an official at his side; and then,
+seeing that he had not been understood, gave the order glibly enough in
+another language.
+
+The ill-clad travellers shuffled up the gangway and through the
+custom-house. Few seemed to take an interest in their surroundings.
+They exchanged no comments, but walked side by side in silence--dumb
+and driven animals. Some of them bore signs of disease. A few stumbled
+as they went. One or two were half blind, with groping hands. That they
+were of different nationalities was plain enough. Here a Jew from
+Vienna, with the fear of the Judenhetze in his eyes, followed on the
+heels of a tow-headed giant from Stockholm. A cunning cockney touched
+his hat as he passed, and rather ostentatiously turned to help a
+white-haired little Italian over the inequalities of the gangway. One
+thing only they had in common--their deadly industry. One shadow lay
+over them all--the shadow of death. A momentary gravity passed across
+Cornish's face. These men were as far removed from him as the crawling
+beetle is from the butterfly. Who shall say, however, that the butterfly
+sees nothing but the flowers?
+
+As they passed him, some of them edged away with a dull humility for
+fear their poor garments should touch his fur coat. One, carrying a
+bird-cage, half paused, with a sort of pride, that Cornish might obtain
+a fuller view of a depressed canary. The malgamite workers of this
+winter's morning on the pier of Hoek were not the interesting
+industrials of Lady Ferriby's drawing-room. There their lives had been
+spoken of as short and merry. Here the merriment was scarcely
+perceptible. The mystery of the dangerous industries is one of those
+mysteries of human nature which cannot be explained by even the
+youngest of novelists. That dangerous industries exist we all know and
+deplore. That the supply of men and women ready to take employment in
+such industries is practically inexhaustible is a fact worth at least a
+moment's attention.
+
+Cornish made the necessary arrangements with the railway officials, and
+carefully counted his charges, who were already seated in the carriages
+reserved for them. He must at all events be allowed the virtues of a
+generation which is eminently practical and capable of overcoming the
+small difficulties of everyday life. He was quick to decide and prompt
+to act.
+
+Then he seated himself in a carriage alone, with a sigh of relief at
+the thought that in a few days he would be back in London. His
+responsibility ended at The Hague, where he was to hand over the
+malgamite workers to the care of Roden and Von Holzen. They were
+rather a depressing set of men, and Holland, as seen from the carriage
+window--a snow-clad plain intersected by frozen ditches and
+canals--was no more enlivening. The temperature was deadly cold; the
+dull houses were rime-covered and forbidding. The malgamite makers had
+been gathered together from all parts of the world in a home specially
+organized for them in London. A second detachment was awaiting their
+orders at Hamburg. But the principal workers were these now placed
+under Cornish's care.
+
+During the days of their arrival, when they had to be met and housed
+and cared for, the visionary part of this great scheme had slowly faded
+before a somewhat grim reality. Joan Ferriby had found the malgamite
+workers less picturesque than she had anticipated.
+
+"If they only washed," she had confided to Major White, "I am sure they
+would be easier to deal with." And after talking French very
+vivaciously and boldly with a man from Lyons, she hurried back to the
+West End, and to the numerous engagements which naturally take up much
+of one's time when Lent is approaching, and dilatory hospitality is
+stirred up by the startling collapse of the Epiphany Sundays.
+
+Here, however, were the malgamite workers and they had to be dealt
+with. It was not quite what many had anticipated, perhaps, and Cornish
+was looking forward with undisguised pleasure to the moment when he
+could rid himself of these persons whom Joan had gaily designated as
+"rather gruesome," and whom he frankly recognized as sordid and
+uninteresting. He did not even look, as Joan had looked, to the wives
+and children who were to follow as likely to prove more picturesque and
+engaging.
+
+The train made its way cautiously over the fog-ridden plain, and
+Cornish shivered as he looked out of the window. "Schiedam," the
+porters called. This, Schiedam? A mere village, and yet the name was so
+familiar. The world seemed suddenly to have grown small and sordid. A
+few other stations with historic names, and then The Hague.
+
+Cornish quitted his carriage, and found himself shaking hands with
+Roden, who was awaiting him on the platform, clad in a heavy fur coat.
+Roden looked clever and capable--cleverer and more capable than Cornish
+had even suspected--and the organization seemed perfect. The reserved
+carriages had been in readiness at the Hook. The officials were
+prepared.
+
+"I have omnibuses and carts for them and their luggage," were the first
+words that Roden spoke.
+
+Cornish instinctively placed himself under Roden's orders. The man had
+risen immensely in his estimation since the arrival in London of the
+first malgamite maker. The grim reality of the one had enhanced the
+importance of the other. Cornish had been engaged in so many charities
+_pour rire_ that the seriousness of this undertaking was apt to
+exaggerate itself in his mind--if, indeed, the seriousness of anything
+dwelt there at all.
+
+
+"I counted them all over at the Hook," he said. "One hundred and
+twenty--pretty average scoundrels."
+
+"Yes; they are not much to look at," answered Roden.
+
+And the two men stood side by side watching the malgamite workers, who
+now quitted the train and stood huddled together in a dull apathy on
+the roomy platform.
+
+"But you will soon get them into shape, no doubt," said Cornish, with
+characteristic optimism. He was essentially of a class that has always
+some one at hand to whom to relegate tasks which it could do more
+effectually and more quickly for itself. The secret of human happiness
+is to be dependent upon as few human beings as possible.
+
+"Oh yes! We shall soon get them into shape--the sea air and all that,
+you know."
+
+Roden looked at his _proteges_ with large, sad eyes, in which there was
+alike no enthusiasm and no spark of human kindness. Cornish wondered
+vaguely what he was thinking about. The thoughts were certainly tinged
+with pessimism, and lacked entirely the blindness of an enthusiasm by
+which men are urged to endeavour great things for the good of the
+masses, and to make, as far as a practical human perception may
+discern, huge and hideous mistakes.
+
+"Von Holzen is down below," said Roden, at length. "As soon as he comes
+up we will draft them off in batches of ten, and pack them into the
+omnibuses. The luggage can follow. Ah! Here comes Von Holzen. You don't
+know him, do you?"
+
+"No; I don't know him."
+
+They both went forward to meet a man of medium height, with square
+shoulders, and a still, clean-shaven face. Otto von Holzen raised his
+hat, and remained bare-headed while he shook hands.
+
+"The introduction is unnecessary," he said. "We have worked together
+for many months--you on the other side of the North Sea, and I on this.
+And now we have, at all events, something to show for our work."
+
+He had a quick, foreign manner, with a kind smile, and certain
+vivacity.
+
+This was a different sort of man to Roden--quicker to feel for others,
+to understand others; capable of greater good, and possibly of greater
+evil. He glanced at Cornish, nodded sympathetically, and then turned to
+look at the malgamite makers. These, standing in a group on the
+platform, holding in their hands their poor belongings, returned the
+gaze with interest. The train which had brought them steamed out of the
+station, leaving the malgamite makers gazing in a dull wonder at the
+three men into whose hands they had committed their lives.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+ON THE DUNES.
+
+"L'indifference est le sommeil du coeur."
+
+
+The village of Scheveningen, as many know, is built on the sand dunes,
+and only sheltered from the ocean by a sea-wall. A new Scheveningen has
+sprung up on this sea-wall--a mere terrace of red brick houses, already
+faded and weather-worn, which stare forlornly at the shallow sea.
+Inland, except where building enterprise has constructed roads and
+built villas are sand dunes. To the south, beyond the lighthouse, are
+sand dunes. To the north, more especially and most emphatically, are
+sand dunes as far as the eye may see. This tract of country is a very
+desert, where thin maritime grasses are shaken by the wind, where
+suggestive spars lie bleaching, where the sand, driven before the
+breeze like snow, travels to and fro through all the ages.
+
+This afternoon, the dunes presented as forlorn an appearance as it is
+possible in one's gloomiest moments to conceive. The fog had, indeed,
+lifted a little, but a fine rain now drove before the wind, freezing as
+it fell, so that the earth was covered by a thin sheet of ice. The
+short January day was drawing to its close.
+
+To the north of the waterworks, three hundred yards away from that
+solitary erection, the curious may find to-day a few low buildings
+clustering round a water-tower. These buildings are of wood, with roofs
+of corrugated iron; and when they were newly constructed, not so many
+years ago, presented a gay enough appearance, with their green
+shutters and ornamental eaves. The whole was enclosed in a fence of
+corrugated iron, and approached by a road not too well constructed on
+its sandy bed.
+
+"We do not want the place to become the object of an excursion for
+tourists to The Hague," said Roden to Cornish, as they approached the
+malgamite works in a closed carriage.
+
+Cornish looked out of the window and made no remark. So far as he could
+see on all sides, there was nothing but sand-hills and grey grass. The
+road was a narrow one, and led only to the little cluster of houses
+within the fence. It was a lonely spot, cut off from all communication
+with the outer world. Men might pass within a hundred yards and never
+know that the malgamite works existed. The carriage drove through the
+high gateway into the enclosure. There were a number of cottages, two
+long, low buildings, and the water-tower.
+
+"You see," said Roden, "we have plenty of room to increase our
+accommodation when there is need of it. But we must go slowly and feel
+our way. It would never do to fail. We have accommodation here for a
+couple of hundred workers and their families; but in time we shall have
+five hundred of them in here--all the malgamite workers in the world."
+
+He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in
+his voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after
+all, be an enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's
+world sincere enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
+
+Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the
+little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
+
+"These two buildings are the factories," he said. "In them three
+hundred men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the
+storage of the raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do
+not anticipate that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We
+shall turn over our money very quickly."
+
+Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details
+receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for
+such pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the
+terms of which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his
+cane, gave a quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around
+him. He had a certain respect for Percy Roden, while that
+philanthropist did not perhaps appear quite at his best in his business
+moments.
+
+"And do you--and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen--live inside
+this--zareba?" he asked.
+
+
+"No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I
+have taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for
+me."
+
+"Ah! I did not know you had a sister," said Cornish, still looking
+about him with intelligent ignorance. "Does she take an interest in the
+malgamite scheme?"
+
+"Only so far as it affects me," replied Roden. "She is a good sister to
+me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We
+will call in on our way back, if you care to."
+
+"I should like nothing better," replied Cornish, conventionally, and
+they continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements
+were as simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen
+certainly possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages
+a cold collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of
+wines, and notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
+
+"For the journalists," explained Roden. "I have a number of them coming
+this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite
+makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited
+a number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay
+their expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it
+immensely. They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you
+understand."
+
+"Flattery and champagne," laughed Cornish--"the two principal
+ingredients of popularity."
+
+"I have here a number of photographs," continued Roden, "taken by a
+good man in the neighbourhood. He has thrown in a view of the sea at
+the back, you see. It is not there; but he has put in the sky and sea
+from another plate, he tells me, to make a good picture of it. We shall
+send them to the principal illustrated papers."
+
+"And I suppose," said Cornish, with his gay laugh, "that some of the
+journalists will throw in background also."
+
+"Of course," answered Roden, gravely. "And the sentimentalists will be
+satisfied. The sentimentalists never stop at providing necessaries;
+they want to pamper. It will please them immensely to think that the
+malgamite makers, who have been collected from the slums of the world,
+have a sea view and every modern luxury."
+
+"We must humour them," said Cornish, practically. "We should not get
+far without them."
+
+At this moment the sound of wheels made them both turn towards the
+entrance. It was an omnibus--the best omnibus with the finest
+horses--which brought the journalists. These gentlemen now descended
+from the vehicle and came towards the cottage, where Cornish and Roden
+awaited them. They were what is euphemistically called a little mixed.
+Some were too well dressed, others too badly. But all carried
+themselves with an air that bespoke a consciousness of greatness not
+unmingled with good-fellowship. The leader, a stout man, shook hands
+affably with Cornish, who assumed his best and most gracious manner.
+
+
+"Aha! Here we are," he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at
+the champagne.
+
+Then somehow Cornish came to the front and Roden retired into the
+background. It was Cornish who opened the champagne and poured it into
+their glasses. It was Cornish who made the best jokes, and laughed the
+loudest at the journalistic quips fired off by his companions. Cornish
+seemed to understand the guests better than did Roden, who was inclined
+to be stiff towards them. Those who are assured of their position are
+not always thinking about it. Men who stand much upon their dignity
+have not, as a rule, much else to stand upon.
+
+"Here's to you, sir," cried the stout newspaper man, with upraised
+glass and a heart full of champagne. "Here's to you--whoever you are.
+And now to business. Perhaps you'll trot us round the works."
+
+This Cornish did with much success. He then stood beside the
+correspondents while the malgamite workers descended from the omnibus
+and took possession of their new quarters. He provided the journalists
+with photographs and a short printed account of the malgamite trade,
+which had been prepared by Von Holzen. It was finally Cornish who
+packed them into the omnibus in high good humour, and sent them back to
+The Hague.
+
+"Do not forget the sentiment," he called out after them. "Remember it
+is a charity."
+
+The malgamite workers were left to the care of Von Holzen, who had made
+all necessary preparations for their reception.
+
+
+
+
+"You are a cleverer man than I thought you," said Roden to Cornish, as
+they walked over the dunes together in the dusk towards the Rodens'
+house. And it was difficult to say whether Roden was pleased or not.
+He did not speak much during the walk, and was evidently wrapped in
+deep thought.
+
+Cornish was light and inconsequent as usual. "We shall soon raise
+more money," he said. "We shall have malgamite balls, and malgamite
+bazaars, malgamite balloon ascents if that is not flying too high."
+
+The Villa des Dunes stands, as its name implies, among the sand hills,
+facing south and west. It is upon an elevation, and therefore enjoys a
+view of the sea, and, inland, of the spires of The Hague. The garden is
+an old one, and there are quiet nooks in it where the trees have grown
+to a quite respectable stature. Holland is so essentially a tidy
+country that nothing old or moss-grown is tolerated. One wonders where
+all the rubbish of the centuries has been hidden; for all the ruins
+have been decently cleared away and cities that teem with historical
+interest seem, with a few exceptions, to have been built last year. The
+garden of the Villa des Dunes was therefore more remarkable for
+cleanliness than luxuriance. The house itself was uninteresting, and
+resembled a thousand others on the coast in that it was more
+comfortable than it looked. A suggestion of warmth and lamp-light
+filtered through the drawn curtains.
+
+Roden led the way into the house, admitting himself with a latch-key.
+"Dorothy," he cried, as soon as the door was closed behind them--the
+two tall men in their heavy coats almost filled the little
+hall--"Dorothy, where are you?"
+
+The atmosphere of the house--that subtle odour which is characteristic
+of all dwellings--was pleasant. One felt that there were flowers in the
+rooms, and that tea was in course of preparation.
+
+The door on the left-hand side of the hall was opened, and a small
+woman appeared there. She was essentially small--a little upright
+figure with bright brown hair, a good complexion, and gay, sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"I have brought Mr. Cornish," explained Roden. "We are frozen, and want
+some tea."
+
+Dorothy Roden came forward and shook hands with Cornish. She looked up
+at him, taking him all in, in one quick intuitive glance, from his
+smooth head to his neat boots.
+
+"It is horribly cold," she said. One cannot always be original and
+sparkling, and it is wiser not to try too persistently. She turned and
+re-entered the drawing-room, with Cornish following her. The room
+itself was prettily furnished in the Dutch fashion, and there were
+flowers. Dorothy Roden's manner was that of a woman; no longer in her
+first girlhood, who had seen en and cities. She was better educated
+than her brother; she was probably cleverer. She had, at all events,
+the subtle air of self-restraint that marks those women whose lives are
+passed in the society of a man mentally inferior to themselves. Of
+course all women are in a sense doomed to this--according to their own
+thinking.
+
+
+
+"Percy said that he would probably bring you in to tea," said Miss
+Roden, "and that probably you would be tired out."
+
+"Thanks; I am not tired. We had a good passage, and everything has run
+as smoothly. Do you take an active interest in us?"
+
+Miss Roden paused in the action of pouring out tea, and looked across
+at her interlocutor.
+
+"Not an active one," she answered, with a momentary gravity; and, after
+a minute, glanced at Cornish's face again.
+
+"It is going to be a big thing," he said enthusiastically. "My cousin
+Joan Ferriby is working hard at it in London. You do not know her, I
+suppose?"
+
+"I was at school with Joan," replied Miss Roden, with her soft laugh.
+
+"And we took a school-girl oath to write to each other every week when
+we parted. We kept it up--for a fortnight."
+
+Cornish's smooth face betrayed no surprise; although he had concluded
+that Miss Roden was years older than Joan.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, with ready tact, "you do not take an interest in
+the same things as Joan. In what may be called new things--not clothes,
+I mean. In factory girls' feather clubs, for instance, or haberdashers'
+assistants, or women's rights, or anything like that."
+
+"No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly
+ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or
+ought to want."
+
+Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went
+and sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked
+worn--as if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon
+him. Cornish, too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking
+down at Miss Roden with a doubtful air.
+
+"I always distrust women who say that," he said. "One naturally
+suspects them of having got what they want by some underhand
+means--and of having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of
+amalgamation; is not that so, Roden?"
+
+He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made
+some necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It
+seemed that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the
+conversation by himself.
+
+"Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?" he asked Dorothy.
+
+"Nothing," she replied. "I have not even the wit to know that I have
+any."
+
+"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "No wonder Joan ceased writing to you.
+You are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted
+your wrongs--_sub rosa_--and leave other women to manage their own
+affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the
+Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot
+help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must
+either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with
+one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery.
+But some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the
+masses. The masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a
+woman. Some day the men must combine against the women, who are already
+united behind a vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?"
+
+"I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance," said Miss
+Roden, taking his cup.
+
+"I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to----"
+He paused and drank the tea slowly. "No one knows that," he added.
+
+"Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for
+ourselves again."
+
+"That is possible," he said gravely, setting down his cup. "And now I
+must find my way back to The Hague. Good night."
+
+"He is clever," said Dorothy, when Roden returned after having shown
+Cornish the way.
+
+"Yes," answered Roden, without enthusiasm.
+
+"You do not seem to be pleased at the thought," she said carelessly.
+
+"Oh--it will be all right! If his cleverness runs in the right
+direction."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+OFFICIAL.
+
+"One may be so much a man of the world as to be nothing in the world."
+
+
+Political Economy will some day have to recognize Philanthropy as a
+possible--nay, a certain stumbling-block in the world's progress
+towards that millennium when Supply and Demand shall sit down together
+in peace. Charity is certainly sowing seed into the ridges of time
+which will bear startling fruit in the future. For Charity does not
+hesitate to close up an industry or interfere with a trade that
+supplies thousands with their daily bread. Thus the Malgamite scheme so
+glibly inaugurated by Lord Ferriby in his drawing-room bore fruit
+within a week in a quarter to which probably few concerned had ever
+thought of casting an eye. The price of a high-class tinted paper fell
+in all the markets of the world. This paper could only be manufactured
+with a large addition of malgamite to its other components. In what may
+be called the prospectus of the Malgamite scheme it was stated that
+this great charity was inaugurated for the purpose of relieving the
+distress of the malgamiters--one of the industrial scandals of the
+day--by enabling these afflicted men to make their deadly product at a
+cheaper rate and without danger to themselves. This prospectus
+naturally came to the hands of those most concerned, namely, the
+manufacturers of coloured papers and the brokers who supply those
+manufacturers with their raw material.
+
+Thus Lord Ferriby, beaming benignantly from a bower of chrysanthemums
+on a certain evening one winter not so many years ago, set rolling a
+small stone upon a steep hill. So, in fact, wags the world; and none of
+us may know when the echo of a careless word will cease vibrating in
+the hearts of some that hear.
+
+The malgamite trade was what is called a _close_ one--that is to say
+that this product passed out into the world through the hands of a few
+brokers and these brokers were powerless, in face of Lord Ferriby's
+announcement, to prevent the price of malgamite from falling. As this
+fell so fell the prices of the many kinds of paper which could not be
+manufactured without it. Thus indirectly, Lord Ferriby, with that
+obtuseness which very often finds itself in company with a highly
+developed philanthropy, touched the daily lives of thousands and
+thousands of people. And he did not know it. And Tony Cornish knew it
+not. And Joan and the subscribers never dreamt or thought of such a
+thing.
+
+The paper market became what is called sensitive--that is to say,
+prices rose and fell suddenly without apparent reason. Some men made
+money and others lost it. Presently, however--that is to say, in the
+month of March--two months after Tony Cornish had safely conveyed his
+malgamite makers to their new home on the sand dunes of
+Scheveningen--the paper markets of the world began to settle down
+again, and steadier prices ruled. This could be traced--as all
+commercial changes may be traced--to the original flow at one of the
+fountain-heads of supply and demand. It arose from the simple fact that
+a broker in London had bought some of the new malgamite--the
+Scheveningen malgamite--and had issued it to his clients, who said that
+it was good. He had, moreover, bought it cheaper. In a couple of days
+all the world--all the world concerned in the matter--knew of it. Such
+is commerce at the end of the century.
+
+And Cornish, casually looking in at the little office of the Malgamite
+Charity, where a German clerk recommended by Herr von Holzen kept the
+books of the scheme, found his table littered with telegrams. Tony
+Cornish had a reputation for being clever. He was, as a matter of fact,
+intelligent. The world nearly always mistakes intelligence for
+cleverness, just as it nearly always mistakes laughter for happiness.
+He was, however, clever enough to have found out during the last two
+months that the Malgamite scheme was a bigger thing than either he or
+his uncle had ever imagined.
+
+Many questions had arisen during those two months of Cornish's honorary
+secretary ship of the charity which he had been unable to answer, and
+which he had been obliged to refer to Roden and Von Holzen. These had
+replied readily, and the matter as solved by them seemed simple enough.
+But each question seemed to have side issues--indeed, the whole scheme
+appeared suddenly to bristle with side issues, and Tony Cornish began
+to find himself getting really interested in something at last.
+
+The telegrams were not alone upon his office table. There were letters
+as well. It was a nice little office, furnished by Joan with a certain
+originality which certainly made it different from any other office in
+Westminster. It had, moreover, the great recommendation of being above
+a Ladies' Tea Association, so that afternoon tea could be easily
+procured. The German clerk quite counted on receiving three
+half-holidays a week and Joan brought her friends to tea, and her
+mother to chaperon. These little tea-parties became quite notorious,
+and there was a question of a cottage piano, which was finally
+abandoned in favour of a banjo. It happened to be a wire-puzzle winter,
+and Cornish had the best collection of rings on impossible wire mazes,
+and glass beads strung upon intertwisted hooks, in Westminster, if not,
+indeed, in the whole of London. Then, of course, there were the
+committee meetings--that is to say, the meeting of the lady committees
+of the bazaar and ball sub-committees. The wire puzzles and the
+association tea were an immense feature of these.
+
+Cornish was quite accustomed to finding a number of letters awaiting
+him, and had been compelled to buy a waste-paper basket of abnormal
+dimensions--so many moribund charities cast envious eyes upon the
+Malgamite scheme, and wondered how it was done, and, on the chance of
+it, offered Cornish honourable honorary posts. But the telegrams had
+been few, and nearly all from Roden. There was a letter from Roden this
+morning.
+
+"DEAR CORNISH" (he wrote),--
+
+"You will probably receive applications from malgamite workers in
+different parts of the world for permission to enter our works. Accept
+them all, and arrange for their enlistment as soon as possible.
+
+"Yours in haste,
+
+"P.R."
+
+Percy Roden was usually in haste, and wrote a bad letter in a beautiful
+handwriting.
+
+Cornish turned to the telegrams. They were one and all applications
+from malgamite makers--from Venice to Valparaiso--to be enrolled in the
+Scheveningen group. He was still reading them when Lord Ferriby came
+into the little office. His lordship was wearing a new fancy waistcoat.
+It was the month of April--the month assuredly of fancy waistcoats
+throughout all nature. Lord Ferriby was, as usual, rather pleased with
+himself. He had walked down Piccadilly with great effect, and a bishop
+had bowed to him, recognizing, in a sense, a lay bishop.
+
+"What have you got there, Tony?" he asked, affably, laying his smart
+walking-stick on an inlaid bureau, which was supposed to be his, and
+was always closed, and had nothing in it.
+
+"Telegrams," answered Cornish, "from malgamite makers, who want to join
+the works at Scheveningen. Seventy-six of them. I don't quite
+understand this business."
+
+"Neither do I," admitted Lord Ferriby, in a voice which clearly
+indicated that if he only took the trouble he could understand
+anything. "But I fancy it is one of the biggest things in charity that
+has ever been started."
+
+In the company of men, and especially of young men, Lord Ferriby
+allowed himself a little license in speech. He at times almost verged
+on the slangy, which is, of course, quite correct and _de haut ton_,
+and he did not want to be taken for an old buffer, as were his
+contemporaries. Therefore he called himself an old buffer whenever he
+could. _Qui s'excuse s'accuse._
+
+"Of course," he added, "we must take the poor fellows."
+
+Without comment, Cornish handed him Roden's letter, and while Lord
+Ferriby read it, employed himself in making out a list of the names and
+addresses of the applicants. Cornish was, in fact, rising to the
+occasion. In other circumstances Anthony Cornish might with favourable
+influence--say that of a Scottish head clerk--have been made into what
+is called a good business man. Without any training whatever, and with
+an education which consisted only of a smattering of the classics and a
+rigid code of honour, he usually perceived what it was wise to do. Some
+people call this genius; others, luck.
+
+"I see," said Lord Ferriby, "that Roden is of the same opinion as
+myself. A shrewd fellow, Roden." And he pulled down his fancy
+waistcoat.
+
+"Then I may write, or telegraph, to these men, and tell them to come?"
+asked Cornish.
+
+"Most certainly, my dear Anthony. We will collect them, or muster them,
+as White calls it, in London, and then send them to Scheveningen, as
+before, when Roden and Herr von Holzen are ready for them. Send a note
+to White, whose department this mustering is. As a soldier he
+understands the handling of a body of men. You and I are more competent
+to deal with a sum of money."
+
+Lord Ferriby glanced towards the door to make sure that it was open, so
+that the German clerk in the outer office should lose nothing that
+could only be for his good--might, in fact, pick up a few crumbs from
+the richly stored table of a great man's mind.
+
+Lord Ferriby leisurely withdrew his gloves and laid them on the inlaid
+bureau. He had the physique of a director of public companies, and the
+grave manner that impresses shareholders. He talked of the weather,
+drew Cornish's attention to a blot of ink on the high-art wallpaper,
+and then put on his gloves again, well pleased with himself and his
+morning's work.
+
+"Everything appears to be in order, my dear Anthony," he said.
+"So there is nothing to keep me here any longer."
+
+"Nothing," replied Cornish; and his lordship departed.
+
+Cornish remained until it was time to go across St. James's Park to his
+club to lunch. He answered a certain number of letters himself, the
+others he handed over to the German clerk--a man with all the virtues,
+smooth, upright hair, and a dreamy eye. The malgamite makers were
+bidden to come as soon as they liked. After luncheon Cornish had to
+hurry back to Great George Street. This was one of his busy days. At
+four o'clock there was to be a meeting of the floor committee of the
+approaching ball, and Cornish remembered that he had been specially
+told to get a new bass string for the banjo. The Hon. Rupert Dalkyn
+had promised to come, but had vowed that he would not touch the banjo
+again unless it had new strings. So Cornish bought the bass string at
+the Army and Navy Stores, and the first preparation for the meeting of
+the floor committee was the tuning of the banjo by the German clerk.
+
+There were, of course, flowers to be bought and arranged _tant bien que
+mal_ in empty ink-stands, a conceit of Joan's, who refused to spend the
+fund money in any ornament less serious, while she quite recognized the
+necessity for flowers on the table of a mixed committee.
+
+The Hon. Rupert was the first to arrive. He was very small and neat and
+rather effeminate. The experienced could tell at a glance that he came
+from a fighting stock. He wore a grave and rather preoccupied air. He
+sat down on the arm of a chair and looked sadly into the fire, while
+his lips moved.
+
+"Got something on your mind?" asked Cornish, who was putting the
+finishing touches to the arrangement of the room.
+
+"Yes, a new song composed for the occasion 'The Maudlin Malgamite';
+like to hear it?"
+
+"Well, I would rather wait. I think I hear a carriage at the door,"
+said Cornish, hastily.
+
+Rupert Dalkyn had to be elected to the floor committee because he was
+Mrs. Courteville's brother, and Mrs. Courteville was the best chaperon
+in London. She was not only a widow, but her husband had been killed in
+rather painful circumstances.
+
+"Poor dear," the people said when she had done something perhaps a
+little unusual--"poor dear; you know her husband was killed."
+
+So the late Courteville, in his lone grave by the banks of the Ogowe
+River, watched over his wife's welfare, and made quite a nice place for
+her in London society.
+
+Rupert himself had been intended for the Church, but had at Cambridge
+developed such an exquisite sense of humour and so killing a power of
+mimicry that no one of the dons was safe, and his friends told him that
+he really mustn't. So he didn't. Since then Rupert had, to tell the
+truth, done nothing. The exquisite sense of humour had also slightly
+evaporated. People said, "Oh yes, very funny," than which nothing is
+ more fatal to humour; and elderly ladies smiled a pinched smile at one
+side of their lips. It is so difficult to see a joke through those
+long-handled eye-glasses.
+
+
+Cornish was quite right when he said that he had heard a carriage, for
+presently the door opened, and Mrs. Courteville came in. She was small
+and slight--"a girlish figure," her maid told her--and well dressed.
+She was just at that age when she did not look it--at an age, moreover,
+when some women seem to combine a maximum of experience with a minimum
+of thought. But who are we to pick holes in our neighbours' garments?
+If any of us is quite sure that he is not doing more harm than good in
+the world, let him by all means throw stones at Mrs. Courteville.
+
+Joan arrived next, accompanied by Lady Ferriby, who knew that if she
+stayed at home she would only have to give tea to a number of people
+towards whom she did not feel kindly enough disposed to reconcile
+herself to the expense. Joan glanced hastily from Mrs. Courteville to
+Tony. She had noticed that Mrs. Courteville always arrived early at the
+floor committee meetings when these were held at the Malgamite office
+or in Cornish's rooms. Joan wondered, while Mrs. Courteville was
+kissing her, whether the widow had come with her brother or before him.
+
+"Has he not made the room look pretty with that mimosa?" asked Mrs.
+Courteville, vivaciously. People did not know how matters stood
+between Joan Ferriby and Tony Cornish, and always wanted to know.
+That is why Mrs. Courteville said "he" only when she drew Joan's
+attention to the flowers.
+
+The meeting may best be described as lively. We belong, however, to an
+eminently practical generation, and some business was really
+transacted. The night for the Malgamite ball was fixed, and a list of
+stewards drawn up; and then the Hon. Rupert played the banjo.
+
+Lady Ferriby had some calls to pay, so Cornish volunteered to walk
+across the park with Joan, who had a healthy love of exercise. They
+talked of various matters, and of course returned again and again to
+the Malgamite affairs.
+
+"By the way," said Joan, at the corner of Cambridge Terrace, "I had a
+letter this morning from Dorothy Roden. I was at school with her, you
+know, and never dreamt that Mr. Roden was her brother. In fact, I had
+nearly forgotten her existence. She is coming across for the ball. She
+says she saw you when you were at The Hague. You never mentioned her,
+Tony."
+
+"Didn't I? She is not interested in the Malgamite scheme, you know. And
+nobody who is not interested in that is worth mentioning."
+
+They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then Cornish asked a
+question.
+
+"What sort of person was she at school?"
+
+"Oh, she was a frivolous sort of girl--never took anything seriously,
+you know. That is why she is not interested in the Malgamite, I
+suppose."
+
+"I suppose so," said Tony Cornish.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE SEAMY SIDE.
+
+"For this is death, and the sole death,
+When a man's loss comes to him from his gain."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart told Roden that her house was in Park Street in The
+Hague. But she did not mention that it was at the corner of Orange
+Street, which makes all the difference. For Park Street is long, and
+the further end of it--the extremity furthest removed from the Royal
+Palace--is less desirable than the neighbourhood of the Vyverberg. Mrs.
+Vansittart's house was in the most desirable part of a most desirable
+little city. She was surrounded with houses inhabited by people bearing
+names well known in history. These people are, moreover, of a
+fascinating cosmopolitanism. They come from all parts of the world, in
+an ancestral sense. There are, for instance, Dutch people living here
+whose names are Scottish. There are others of French extraction, others
+again whose forefathers came to Holland with the Don Juan of the
+religious wars whose history reads like a romance.
+
+Outwardly Mrs. Vansittart's house was of dark red brick, with stone
+facings, and probably belonged to that period which in England is
+called Tudor. Inwardly the house was as comfortable as thick carpets
+and rich curtains and beautiful carvings could make it. The Dutch are
+pre-eminently the flower-growers of the world, and the observant
+traveller walking along Orange Street may note even in midwinter that
+the flowers in the windows are changed each day. In this, as in other
+_menus plaisirs_, Mrs. Vansittart had assumed the ways of the country
+of her adoption. For Holland suggests to the inquiring mind an elderly
+gentleman, now getting a little stout, who, after a wild youth, is
+beginning to appreciate the blessings of repose and comfort; who,
+having laid by a small sufficiency, sits peaceably by the fire, and
+reflects upon the days that are no more.
+
+It was Mrs. Vansittart's pleasant habit to surround herself with every
+comfort. She was an eminently self-respecting person--of that
+self-respect which denies itself nothing except excess. She liked to be
+well dressed, well housed, and well served. She possessed money, and
+with it she bought these adjuncts, which in a minor degree are within
+the reach of nearly everybody, though few have the wit to value them.
+She was not, however, a vociferously contented woman. Like many
+another, she probably wanted something that money could not buy.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, in fulfilment of her promise to Percy Roden, called on
+Dorothy at the Villa des Dunes, who in due course came to the house at
+the corner of Park Street and Orange Street to return the visit.
+Dorothy had been out when Mrs. Vansittart called, but she thought she
+knew from her brother's description what sort of woman to expect. For
+Dorothy Roden had been educated abroad, and was not without knowledge
+of a certain class of English lady to be met with on the Continent, who
+is always well connected, invariably idle, and usually refers
+gracefully to a great sorrow in the past.
+
+But Dorothy knew, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vansittart that she had
+formed an entirely erroneous conception. This was not the sort of woman
+to seek the admiration of the first-comer, and Percy Roden had allowed
+his sister to surmise that, whether it had been sought or not, Mrs.
+Vansittart had certainly been accorded his highest admiration.
+
+"It is good of you to return my call so soon," she said, in a friendly
+voice. "You have walked, I suppose, all the way from the Villa des
+Dunes. English girls are such great walkers now--a most excellent
+thing. I belong to the semi-generation older than yours, which
+preferred a carriage. I am an atrocious walker. You are not at all like
+your brother." And she threw back her head and looked speculatively at
+her visitor. "Sit down," she said, with a laugh. "You probably came
+here harbouring a prejudice against me. One should never get to know a
+woman through her men-folk. That is a rule almost without exception;
+you may take it from one who is many years older than you. But--well,
+_nous verrons_. Perhaps we are the exception."
+
+"I hope so," answered Dorothy, who was ready enough of speech. "At all
+events, all that Percy told me made me anxious to meet you. It is
+rather lonely, you know, at the Villa des Dunes. You see, Percy is
+engaged all day with his malgamiters. And, of course, we know no one
+here yet."
+
+"There is Herr von Holzen," suggested Mrs. Vansittart, ringing the bell
+for tea.
+
+"Oh yes. The man who is associated with Percy at the works? I do not
+know him. Percy has not brought him to the villa."
+
+"Ah! Is that so? That is nice of your brother. Sometimes men, you know,
+make use of their wives or their sisters to help them in their business
+relationships. I have known a man use his pretty daughter to gain a
+client. Beauty levels all, you see. Not nice, no; I suppose Herr von
+Holzen, is--well--let us call him a foreign savant. Such a nice broad
+term, you know; covers such a plentiful lack of soap." And she laughed
+easily, with eyes that were quite grave and alert.
+
+"My brother does not say much about him," answered Dorothy Roden.
+"Percy never does tell me much of his affairs, and I am not sorry. I am
+sure I should not understand them. Stocks and shares and freights and
+things. I never quite know whether a freight is part of a ship; do
+you?"
+
+"No. There are so many things more useful to know, are there
+not?--things about people and human nature, for instance."
+
+"Yes," said Dorothy, looking at her companion thoughtfully--"yes."
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart returned that thoughtful glance. "And the other
+man," she said suddenly, "Mr.--Cornish--do you know him?"
+
+"He called at the Villa des Dunes. My brother brought him in to tea the
+evening of arrival of the first batch of malgamiters," replied Dorothy.
+
+"Mr. Cornish interests me," said Mrs. Vansittart. "I knew him when he
+was a boy--or little more than a boy. He came to Weimar with a tutor to
+learn German when I happened to be living there. I have heard of him
+from time to time since. One sees his name in the society papers, you
+know. He is one of those persons of whom something is expected by his
+friends--not by himself. The young man who expects something of himself
+is usually disappointed. Have you ever noticed in the biographies of
+great men, Miss Roden that people nearly always began to expect
+something of them when they were quite young? As if they were cast in a
+different mould from the very first. Really great men, I mean not the
+fashionable pianist or novelist of the hour whose portrait is in every
+illustrated journal for perhaps two months, and then he is forgotten."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart spoke quickly in a foreign manner, asking with a
+certain vivacity questions which required no answer. Dorothy Roden was
+not slow of speech, but she touched topics with less airiness. Her mind
+seemed a trifle insular in its tendencies. One topic attracted her, and
+the rest were set aside.
+
+"Why does Mr. Cornish interest you?" she asked.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shrugged her shoulders and leant back in her deep
+chair.
+
+"He strikes me as a person with infinite capacity for holding his
+cards. That is all. But perhaps he has no good cards in his hand?
+Nothing but rubbish--the twos and threes of ordinary drawing-room
+smartness--and never a trump. Who can tell? _Qui vivra verra_,
+Miss. Roden. It may not be in my time that the world shall hear of Tony
+Cornish--the real world, not the journalistic world, I mean. He may
+ripen slowly, and I shall be dead. I am getting elderly. How old do you
+think I am, Miss Roden?"
+
+"Thirty-five," replied Dorothy; and Mrs. Vansittart turned sharply to
+look at her.
+
+"Ah!" she said, slowly and thoughtfully. "Yes, you are quite right.
+That is my age. And I suppose I look it. I suppose others would have
+guessed with equal facility, but not everybody would have had the
+honesty to say what they thought."
+
+Dorothy laughed and changed colour. "I said it without thinking," she
+answered. "I hope you do not mind."
+
+"No, I do not mind," said Mrs. Vansittart, looking out of the window.
+"But we were talking of Mr. Cornish."
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy, buttoning her glove and glancing at the clock.
+"Yes; but I must not talk any longer or I shall be late, and my brother
+expects to find me at home when he returns from the works."
+
+She rose and shook hands, looking Mrs. Vansittart in the eyes. When
+Dorothy had gone, the lady of the house stood for a minute looking at
+the closed door.
+
+"I wonder what she thinks of me?" she said.
+
+And Dorothy Roden, walking down Park Straat, was doing the same. She
+was wondering what she thought of Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+Although it was the month of April, the winter mists still rose at
+evening and swept seawards from the marshes of Leyden. The trees had
+scarcely begun to break into bud, for it had been a cold spring, and
+the ice was floating lazily on the canal as Dorothy walked along its
+bank. The Villa des Dunes was certainly somewhat lonely, standing as it
+did a couple of hundred yards back from a sandy road--one of the many
+leading from The Hague to Scheveningen. Between the villa and the road
+the dunes had scarcely been molested, except indeed, to cut a narrow
+roadway to the house. When Dorothy reached home, she found that her
+brother had not yet returned. She looked at the clock. He was later
+than usual. The malgamite works had during the last few weeks been
+absorbing more and more of his attention. When he returned home, tired,
+in the evening, he was not communicative. As for Otto von Holzen, he
+never showed his face outside the works now, but seemed to live the
+life of a recluse within the iron fence that surrounded the little
+colony.
+
+Percy Roden had not returned to the Villa des Dunes at the usual hour
+because he had other work to do. Von Holzen and he were now standing in
+one of the little huts in silence. The light of the setting sun glowed
+through the window upon their faces, upon the bare walls of the room,
+rendered barer and in no way beautified by a terrible German print
+purporting to represent the features of Prince Bismarck.
+
+Von Holzen stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, and looked
+out of the window across the dreary dunes. Roden stood beside him,
+slouching and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets.
+His lower lip was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn
+and anxious.
+
+On the bed, between the two men, lay a third--an old-looking youth with
+lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and it
+was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere. The man
+was dying. He was a Pole who understood no word of English. Indeed,
+these three men had no language in common in which to make themselves
+understood.
+
+"Can you do nothing at all?" asked Roden, for the second or third time.
+
+"Nothing," answered Von Holzen, without turning round. "He was a doomed
+man when he came here."
+
+The man lay on the bed and stared at Von Holzen's back. Perhaps that
+was the reason why Von Holzen so persistently looked out of the window.
+The work-hours were over, and from some neighbouring cottage the sounds
+of a concertina came on the quiet air. The musician had chosen a
+popular music-hall song, which he played over and over again with a
+maddening pertinacity. Roden bit his lip, and frowned at each
+repetition of the opening bars. Von Holzen, with a still, pale face and
+stern eyes, seemed to hear nothing. He had no nerves. At times he
+twisted his lips, moistening them with his tongue, and suppressed an
+impatient sigh. The man was a long time in dying. They had been waiting
+there two hours. This little incident had to be passed over as quietly
+as possible on account of the feelings of the concertina player and the
+others.
+
+The door stood ajar, and in the adjoining room a professional nurse, in
+cap and apron, sat reading a German newspaper. This also was a bedroom.
+The cottage was, in point of fact, the hospital of the malgamite
+workers. The nurse, whose services had not hitherto been wanted, had
+since the inauguration of the works spent some pleasant weeks at a
+pension at Scheveningen. She read her newspaper very philosophically,
+and waited.
+
+Roden it was who watched the patient. The dying man never heeded him,
+but looked persistently towards Von Holzen. The expression of his eyes
+indicated that if they had had a language in common he would have
+spoken to him. Roden saw the direction of the man's glance, and perhaps
+read its meaning. For Percy Roden was handicapped with that greatest of
+all drags on a successful career--a soft heart. He could speak harshly
+enough of the malgamiters as a class, but he was drawn towards this
+dumb individual, with a strong desire to effect the impossible. Von
+Holzen had not promised that there should be no deaths. He had merely
+undertaken to reduce the dangers of the malgamite industry gradually
+and steadily until they ceased to exist. He had, moreover, the strength
+of mind to give to this incident its proper weight in the balance of
+succeeding events. He was not, in a word, handicapped as was his
+colleague.
+
+
+The sun set beyond the quiet sea and over the sand dunes the shades of
+evening crept towards the west. The outline of Prince Bismarck's iron
+face faded slowly in the gathering darkness, until it was nothing but a
+shadow in a frame on the bare wall. The concertina player had laid
+aside his instrument. A sudden silence fell upon land and sea.
+
+Von Holzen turned sharply on his heel and leant over the bed.
+
+"Come along," he said to Roden, with averted eyes. "It is all over.
+There is nothing more for us to do here."
+
+With a backward glance towards the bed, Roden followed his companion,
+out of the room into the adjoining apartment where the nurse was
+sitting, and where their coats and hats lay on the bed. Von Holzen
+spoke to the woman in German.
+
+"So!" she answered, with a mild interest, and folded her paper.
+
+The two men went out into the keen air together, and did not look
+towards each other or speak. Perhaps they knew that if there is any
+difficulty in speaking of a subject it is better to keep silence. They
+crossed the sandy space between this cottage and the others grouped
+round the factory like tents around their headquarters. One of these
+huts was Von Holzen's--a three-roomed building where he worked and
+slept. Its windows looked out upon the factory, and commanded the only
+entrance to the railed enclosure within which the whole colony was
+confined. It was Von Holzen's habit to shut himself within his cottage
+for days together, living there in solitude like some crustacean within
+its shell. At the door he turned, with his fingers on the handle.
+
+"You must not worry yourself about this," he said to Roden, with
+averted eyes. "It cannot be helped, you know."
+
+"No; I know that."
+
+
+"And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden."
+
+"Of course. Good night, Von Holzen."
+
+And Percy Roden passed through the gateway, walking slowly across the
+dunes towards his own house; while Von Holzen watched him from the
+window of the little three-roomed cottage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A SHADOW FROM THE PAST.
+
+"Le plus sur moyen d'arriver a son but c'est de ne pas faire de
+rencontres en chemin."
+
+
+"Yes, it was long ago--'lang, lang izt's her'--you remember the song
+Frau Neumayer always sang. So long ago, Mr. Cornish, that----Well, it
+must be Mr. Cornish, and not Tony."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart leant back in her comfortable chair and looked at her
+visitor with observant eyes. Those who see the most are they who never
+appear to be observing. It is fatal to have others say that one is so
+sharp, and people said as much of Mrs. Vansittart, who had quick dark
+eyes and an alert manner.
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, "it is long ago, but not so long as all that."
+
+His smooth fair face was slightly troubled by the knowledge that the
+recollections to which she referred were those of the Weimar days when
+she who was now a widow had been a young married woman. Tony Cornish
+had also been young in those days, and impressionable. It was before
+the world had polished his surface bright and hard. And the impression
+left of the Mrs. Vansittart of Weimar was that she was one of the rare
+women who marry _pour le bon motif_. He had met her by accident in the
+streets of The Hague a few hours ago, and having learnt her address,
+had, in duty bound, called at the house at the corner of Park Straat
+and Oranje Straat at the earliest calling hour.
+
+"I am not ignorant of your history since you were at Weimar," said the
+lady, looking at him with an air of almost maternal scrutiny.
+
+"I have no history," he replied. "I never had a past even, a few years
+ago, when every man who took himself seriously had at least one."
+
+He spoke as he had learnt to speak, with the surface of his
+mind--with the object of passing the time and avoiding topics that
+might possibly be painful. Many who appear to be egotistical must
+assuredly be credited with this good motive. One is, at all events,
+safe in talking of one's self. Sufficient for the social day is the
+effort to avoid glancing at the cupboard where our neighbour keeps his
+skeleton.
+
+A silence followed Cornish's heroic speech, and it was perhaps better
+to face it than stave it off.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Vansittart, at the end of that pause, "I am a widow
+and childless. I see the questions in your face."
+
+Cornish gave a little nod of the head, and looked out of the window.
+Mrs. Vansittart was only a year older than himself, but the difference
+in their life and experience, when they had learnt to know each other
+at Weimar, had in some subtle way augmented the seniority.
+
+"Then you never--" he said, and paused.
+
+"No," she answered lightly. "So I am what the world calls independent,
+you see. No encumbrance of any sort."
+
+Again he nodded without speaking.
+
+"The line between an encumbrance and a purpose is not very clearly
+defined, is it?" she said lightly; and then added a question, "What are
+you doing in The Hague--Malgamite?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, in surprise, "Malgamite."
+
+"Oh, I know all about it," laughed Mrs. Vansittart. "I see Dorothy
+Roden at least once a week."
+
+"But she takes no part in it."
+
+"No; she takes no part in it, _mon ami_, except in so far as it affects
+her brother and compels her to live in a sad little villa on the
+Dunes."
+
+"And you--you are interested?"
+
+"Most assuredly. I have even given my mite. I am interested in"--she
+paused and shrugged her shoulders--"in you, since you ask me, in
+Dorothy, and in Mr. Roden. He gave the flowers at which you are so
+earnestly looking, by the way."
+
+"Ah!" said Cornish, politely.
+
+"Yes," answered Mrs. Vansittart, with a passing smile. "He is kind
+enough to give me flowers from time to time. You never gave me flowers,
+Mr. Cornish, in the olden times."
+
+"Because I could not afford good ones."
+
+"And you would not offer anything more reasonable?"
+
+"Not to you," he answered.
+
+"But of course that was long ago."
+
+"Yes. I am glad to hear that you know Miss Roden. It will make the
+little villa on the Dunes less sad. The atmosphere of malgamite is not
+cheerful. One sees it at its best in a London drawing-room. It is one
+of the many realities which have an evil odour when approached too
+closely."
+
+"And you are coming nearer to it?"
+
+"It is coming nearer to me."
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, examining the rings with which her fingers
+were laden. "I thought there would be developments."
+
+"There are developments. Hence my presence in The Hague. Lord Ferriby
+_et famille_ arrive to-morrow. Also my friend Major White."
+
+"The fighting man?" inquired Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"Yes, the fighting man. We are to have a solemn meeting. It has been
+found necessary to alter our financial basis----"
+
+Mrs. Vansittart held up a warning hand. "Do not talk to me of your
+financial basis. I know nothing of money. It is not from that point of
+view that I contemplate your Malgamite scheme."
+
+"Ah! Then, if one may inquire, from what point of view....?"
+
+"From the human point of view; as does every other woman connected with
+it. We are advancing, I admit, but I think we shall always be willing
+to leave the--financial basis--to your down-trodden sex."
+
+"It is very kind of you to be interested in these poor people," began
+Cornish; but Mrs. Vansittart interrupted him vivaciously.
+
+"Poor people? Gott bewahre!" she cried. "Did you think I meant the
+workers? Oh no! I am not interested in them. I am interested in your
+Rodens and your Ferribys and your Whites, and even in your Tony
+Cornish. I wonder who will quarrel and who will--well, do the contrary,
+and what will come of it all? In my day young people were brought
+together by a common pleasure, but that has gone out of fashion. And
+now it is a common endeavour to achieve the impossible, to check the
+stars in their courses by the holding of mixed meetings, and the
+enunciation of second-hand platitudes respecting the poor and the
+masses--this is what brings the present generation into that
+intercourse which ends in love and marriage and death--the old
+programme. And it is from that point of view alone, _mon ami_, that I
+take a particle of interest in your Malgamite scheme."
+
+All of which Tony Cornish remembered later; for it was untrue. He rose
+to take his leave with polite hopes of seeing her again.
+
+"Oh, do not hurry away," she said. "I am expecting Dorothy Roden, who
+promised to come to tea. She will be disappointed not to see you."
+
+Cornish laughed in his light way. "You are kind in your assumptions,"
+he answered. "Miss Roden is barely aware of my existence, and would not
+know me from Adam."
+
+Nevertheless he stayed, moving about the room for some minutes looking
+at the flowers and the pictures, of which he knew just as much as was
+desirable and fashionable. He knew what flowers were "in," such as
+fuchsias and tulips, and what were "out," such as camellias and double
+hyacinths. About the pictures he knew a little, and asked questions as
+to some upon the walls that belonged to the Dutch school. He was of the
+universe, universal. Then he sat down again unobtrusively, and Mrs.
+Vansittart did not seem to notice that he had done so, though she
+glanced at the clock.
+
+A few minutes later Dorothy came in. She changed colour when Mrs.
+Vansittart half introduced Cornish with the conventional, "I think you
+know each other."
+
+"I knew you were coming to The Hague," she said, shaking hands with
+Cornish. "I had a letter from Joan the other day. They all are coming,
+are they not? I am afraid Joan will be very much disappointed in me.
+She thinks I am wrapped up heart and soul in the malgamiters--and I am
+not, you know."
+
+She turned with a little laugh, and appealed to Mrs. Vansittart, who
+was watching her closely, as if Dorothy were displaying some quality or
+point hitherto unknown to the older woman. The girl's eyes were
+certainly brighter than usual.
+
+"Joan takes some things very seriously," answered Cornish.
+
+"We all do that," said Mrs. Vansittart, without looking up from the
+tea-table at which she was engaged. "Yes; it is a mistake, of course."
+
+"Possibly," assented Mrs. Vansittart. "Do you take sugar, Miss Roden?"
+
+"Yes, please--seriously. Two pieces."
+
+"Are you like Joan?" asked Cornish, as he gave her the cup. "Do you
+take anything else seriously?"
+
+"Oh no," answered Dorothy Roden, with a laugh.
+
+"And your brother?" inquired Mrs. Vansittart. "Is he coming this
+afternoon?"
+
+"He will follow me. He is busy with the new malgamiters who arrived
+this morning. I suppose you brought them, Mr. Cornish?"
+
+"Yes, I brought them. Twenty-four of them--the dregs, so to speak. The
+very last of the malgamiters, collected from all parts of the world. I
+was not proud of them."
+
+He sat down and quickly changed the conversation, showing quite clearly
+that this subject interested him as little as it interested his
+companions. He brought the latest news from London, which the ladies
+were glad enough to hear. For to Dorothy Roden, at least, The Hague was
+a place of exile, where men lived different lives and women thought
+different thoughts. Are there not a hundred little rivulets of news
+which never flow through the journals, but are passed from mouth to
+mouth, and seem shallow enough, but which, uniting at last, form a
+great stream of public opinion, and this, having formed itself
+imperceptibly, is suddenly found in full flow, and is so obvious that
+the newspapers forget to mention it? Thus colonists and other exiles
+returning to England, and priding themselves upon having kept in touch
+with the progress of events and ideas in the old country, find that
+their thoughts have all the while been running in the wrong
+channels--that seemingly great events have been considered very small,
+that small ideas have been lifted high by the babbling crowd which is
+vaguely called society.
+
+From Tony Cornish, Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy learnt that among other
+social playthings charity was for the moment being laid aside. We have
+inherited, it appears, a great box of playthings, and the careful
+ student of history will find that none of the toys are new--that they
+have indeed been played with by our forefathers, who did just as we do.
+They took each toy from the box, and cried aloud that it was new, that
+the world had never seen its like before. Had it not, indeed? Then
+presently the toy--be it charity, or a new religion, or sentiment, or
+greed of gain, or war--is thrown back into the box again, where it lies
+until we of a later day drag it forth with the same cry that it is new.
+We grow wild with excitement over South African mines, and never
+recognize the old South Sea bubble trimmed anew to suit the taste of
+the day. We crow with delight over our East End slums, and never
+recognize the patched-up remnants of the last Crusade that fizzled out
+so ignominiously at Acre five hundred years ago.
+
+So Tony Cornish, who was _dans le movement_ gently intimated to his
+hearers that what may be called a robuster tone ruled the spirit of the
+age. Charity was going down, athletics were coming up. Another
+Olympiad had passed away. Wise indeed was Solon, who allowed four years
+for men to soften and to harden again. During the Olympiads it is to be
+presumed that men busied themselves with the slums that existed in
+those days, hearkened to the decadent poetry or fiction of that time,
+and then, as the robuster period of the games came round, braced
+themselves once more to the consideration of braver things.
+
+It appeared, therefore, that the Malgamite scheme was already a thing
+of the past so far as social London was concerned. A sensational
+'Varsity boat-race had given charity its _coup de grace_, had ushered
+in the spring, when even the poor must shift for themselves.
+
+"And in the mean time," commented Mrs. Vansittart, "here are four
+hundred industrials landed, if one may so put it, at The Hague."
+
+"Yes; but that will be all right," retorted Cornish, with his gay
+laugh. "They only wanted a start. They have got their start. What more
+can they desire? Is not Lord Ferriby himself coming across? He is at
+the moment on board the Flushing boat. And he is making a great
+sacrifice, for he must be aware that he does not look nearly so
+impressive on the Continent as he does, say in Piccadilly, where the
+policemen know him, and even the newspaper boys are dimly aware that
+this is no ordinary man to whom one may offer a halfpenny Radical
+paper----"
+
+Cornish broke off, and looked towards the door, which was at this
+moment thrown open by a servant, who announced--"Herr Roden. Herr von
+Holzen."
+
+The two men came forward together, Roden slouching and
+heavy-shouldered, but well dressed; Von Holzen smaller, compacter, with
+a thoughtful, still face and calculating eyes. Roden introduced his
+companion to the two ladies. It is possible that a certain reluctance
+in his manner indicated the fact that he had brought Von Holzen against
+his own desire. Either Von Holzen had asked to be brought or Mrs.
+Vansittart had intimated to Roden that she would welcome his associate,
+but this was not touched upon in the course of the introduction.
+Cornish looked gravely on. Von Holzen was betrayed into a momentary
+gaucheness, as if he were not quite at home in a drawing-room.
+
+
+
+
+Roden drew forward a chair, and seated himself near to Mrs. Vansittart
+with an air of familiarity which the lady seemed rather to invite than
+to resent. They had, it appeared, many topics in common. Roden had come
+with the purpose of seeing Mrs. Vansittart, and no one else. Her
+manner, also, changed as soon as Roden entered the room, and seemed to
+appeal with a sort of deference to his judgment of all that she said or
+did. It was a subtle change, and perhaps no one noticed it, though
+Dorothy, who was exchanging conventional remarks with Von Holzen,
+glanced across the room once.
+
+"Ah," Von Holzen was saying in his grave way, with his head bent a
+little forward, as if the rounded brow were heavy--"ah, but I am only
+the chemist, Miss Roden. It is your brother who has placed us on our
+wonderful financial basis. He has a head for finance, your brother, and
+is quick in his calculations. He understands money, whereas I am only a
+scientist."
+
+He spoke English correctly but slowly, with the Dutch accent, which is
+slighter and less guttural than the German. Dorothy was interested in
+him, and continued to talk with him, leaving Cornish standing at a
+little distance, teacup in hand. Von Holzen was in strong contrast to
+the two Englishmen. He was graver, more thoughtful, a man of deeper
+purpose and more solid intellect. There was something dimly Napoleonic
+in the direct and calculating glance of his eyes, as if he never looked
+idly at anything or any man. It was he who made a movement after the
+lapse of a few moments only, as if, having recovered his slight
+embarrassment, he did not intend to stay longer than the merest
+etiquette might demand. He crossed the room, and stood before Mrs.
+Vansittart, with his heels clapped well together, making the most
+formal conversation, which was only varied by a stiff bow.
+
+"I have a friendly recollection," he said, preparing to take his leave,
+"of a Charles Vansittart, a student at Leyden, with whom I was brought
+into contact again in later life. He was, I believe, from Amsterdam, of
+an English mother."
+
+"Ah!" replied Mrs. Vansittart. "Mine is a common name."
+
+And they bowed to each other in the foreign way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DEEPER WATER.
+
+"Une bonne intention est une echelle trop courte."
+
+
+"I have had considerable experience in such matters, and I think I may
+say that the new financial scheme worked out by Mr. Roden and myself is
+a sound one," Lord Ferriby was saying in his best manner.
+
+He was addressing Major White, Tony Cornish, Von Holzen, and Percy
+Roden, convened to a meeting in the private _salon_ occupied by the
+Ferribys at the Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery, at The Hague.
+
+The _salon_ in question was at the front of the house on the first
+floor, and therefore looked out upon the Toornoifeld, where the trees
+were beginning to show a tender green, under the encouragement of a
+ treacherous April sun. Major White, seated bolt upright in his chair,
+looked with a gentle surprise out of the window. He had so small an
+opinion of his understanding that he usually begged explanatory persons
+to excuse him. "No doubt you're quite right, but it's no use trying to
+explain it to _me_, don't you know," he was in the habit of saying, and
+his attitude said no less at the present moment.
+
+
+Von Holzen, with his chin in the palm of his hand, watched Lord
+Ferriby's face with a greater attention than that transparent
+physiognomy required. Roden's attention was fully occupied by the
+papers on the table in front of him. He was seated by Lord Ferriby's
+side, ready to prompt or assist, as behoved a merely mechanical
+subordinate. Lord Ferriby, dimly conscious of this mental attitude, had
+spoken Roden's name with considerable patronage, and with the evident
+desire to give every man his due. Cornish, in his quick and superficial
+way, glanced from one face to the other, taking in _en passant_ any
+object in the room that happened to call for a momentary attention. He
+noted the passive and somewhat bovine surprise on White's face, and
+wondered whether it owed its presence thereto astonishment at finding
+himself taking part in a committee meeting or amazement at the
+suggestion that Lord Ferriby should be capable of evolving any scheme,
+financial or otherwise, out of his own brain. The committee thus
+summoned was a fair sample of its kind. Here were a number of men
+ dividing a sense of responsibility among them so impartially that there
+was not nearly enough of it to go round. In a multitude of councilors
+there may be safety, but it is assuredly the councillors only who are
+safe.
+
+"The reasons," continued Lord Ferriby, "why it is inexpedient to
+continue in our present position as mere trustees of a charitable fund
+are too numerous to go into at the present moment. Suffice it to say
+that there are many such reasons, and that I have satisfied myself of
+their soundness. Our chief desire is to ameliorate the condition of the
+malgamite workers. It must assuredly suggest itself to any one of us
+that the best method of doing this is to make the malgamite workers an
+independent corporation, bound together by the greatest of ties, a
+common interest."
+
+The speaker paused, and turned to Roden with a triumphant smile, as
+much as to say, "There, beat that if you can."
+
+Roden could not beat it, so he nodded thoughtfully, and examined the
+point of his pen.
+
+"Gentlemen," said Lord Ferriby, impressively, "the greatest common
+interest is a common purse."
+
+As the meeting was too small for applause, Lord Ferriby only allowed
+sufficient time for this great truth to be assimilated, and then
+continued--"It is proposed, therefore, that we turn the Malgamite
+Works into a company, the most numerous shareholders to be the
+malgamiters themselves. The most numerous shareholders, mark
+you--not the heaviest shareholders. These shall be ourselves. We
+propose to estimate the capital of the company at ten thousand pounds,
+which, as you know, is, approximately speaking, the amount
+raised by our appeals on behalf of this great charity. We shall divide
+this capital into two thousand five-pound shares, allot one share to
+each malgamite worker--say five hundred shares--and retain the
+rest--say fifteen hundred shares--ourselves. Of those fifteen hundred,
+it is proposed to allot three hundred to each of us. Do I make myself
+clear?"
+
+"Yes," answered Major White, optimistically polishing his eye-glass
+with a pocket-handkerchief. "Any ass could understand that."
+
+"Our friend Mr. Roden," continued his lordship, "who, I mention in
+passing, is one of the finest financiers with whom I have ever had
+ relationship, is of opinion that this company, having its works in
+Holland, should not be registered as a limited company in England. The
+reasons for holding such an opinion are, briefly, connected with the
+interference of the English law in the management of a limited
+liability company formed for the sole purpose of making money.
+We are not disposed to classify ourselves as such a company. We are not
+disposed to pay the English income tax on money which is intended for
+distribution in charity. Each malgamite worker, with his one share, is
+not, precisely speaking, so much a shareholder as a participator in
+profits. We are not in any sense a limited liability company."
+
+That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently
+indicated by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture
+with portentous gravity and wisdom.
+
+"As to the question of profit and loss," continued Lord Ferriby, "I am
+not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware
+that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands.
+It is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any
+way profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name
+only, and receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of
+the Malgamite Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we
+have administered the fund--for the sole benefit of the malgamite
+workers. The profits of these poor men, earned on their own share, may
+reasonably be considered in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis
+upon which I propose that we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's
+careful consideration, and I think we are ready to give our consent to
+any proposal which has received so marked a benefit. There are, of
+course, many details which will require discussion----Eh?"
+
+Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a
+few words.
+
+"Ah--yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as
+much as possible."
+
+This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had
+yawned more than once.
+
+"Now as to the past," continued Lord Ferriby. "The works have been
+going for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly
+satisfactory----Eh?"
+
+"Many deaths?" inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
+
+"Deaths? Ah--among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von Holzen
+can tell you better than I."
+
+And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across
+the table.
+
+"Yes," replied Von Holzen, quietly, "there have, of course, been
+deaths, but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had,
+as Mr. Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they
+arrived at The Hague."
+
+"They certainly looked seedy," admitted Tony.
+
+"We will, I think, turn rather to the--eh--er--living," said Lord
+Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly
+reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of
+White to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was
+that charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical
+facts, if these be discouraging. "I have here the result of the three
+months' work."
+
+He looked at the papers with so condescending an air that it was quite
+evident that, had he been a business man and not a lord, he would have
+understood them at a glance. There was a short silence while he turned
+over the closely written sheets with an air of approving interest.
+
+"Yes," he said, as if during those moments he had run his eye up all
+the column of figures and found them correct, "the result, as I say,
+gentlemen, has been most satisfactory. We have manufactured a malgamite
+which has been well received by the paper-makers. We have, furthermore,
+been able to supply at the current rate without any serious loss. We
+are increasing our plant, and the day is not so far distant when we
+may, at all events, hope to be self-supporting."
+
+Lord Ferriby sat up and pulled down his waistcoat, a sure signal that
+the fountain of his garrulous inspiration was for the moment dried up.
+
+With great presence of mind Tony Cornish interposed a question which
+only Roden could answer, and after the consideration of some
+statistics, the proceedings terminated. It had been apparent all
+through that Percy Roden was the only business man of the party.
+In any question of figures or statistics his colleagues showed plainly
+that they were at sea. Lord Ferriby had in early life been managed by
+a thrifty mother, who had in due course married him to a thrifty wife.
+Tony Cornish's business affairs had been narrowed down to the financial
+fiasco of a tailor's bill far beyond his facilities. Major White had,
+in his subaltern days, been despatched from Gibraltar on a business
+quest into the interior of Spain to buy mules there for his Queen and
+country. He fell out with a dealer at Ronda, whom he knocked down, and
+returned to Gibraltar branded as unbusiness-like and hasty, and there
+his commercial enterprise had terminated. Von Holzen was only a
+scientist, a fact of which he assured his colleagues repeatedly.
+
+If plain speaking be a sign of friendship, then women are assuredly
+capable of higher flights than men. A lifelong friendship between two
+women usually means that they quarrelled at school, and have retained
+in later days the privilege of mutual plain speaking. If Jones, who was
+Tompkins's best man, goes yachting with Tompkins in later days, these
+two sinners are quite capable of enjoying themselves immensely in the
+present without raking about among the ashes of the past to seek the
+reason why Tompkins persisted, in spite of his friends' advice, in
+making an idiot of himself over that Robinson girl--Jones standing by
+all the while with the ring in his waistcoat pocket. Whereas, if the
+friendship existed between the respective ladies of Jones and Tompkins,
+their conversation will usually be found to begin with: "I always told
+you, Maria, when we were girls together," or, "Well, Jane, when we were
+at school you never would listen to me." A man's friendship is
+apparently based upon a knowledge of another's redeeming qualities. A
+woman's dearest friend is she whose faults will bear the closest
+investigation.
+
+It was doubtless owing to these trifling variations in temperament that
+Joan Ferriby learnt more about The Hague and Percy Roden and Otto von
+Holzen, and lastly, though not leastly, Mrs. Vansittart, in ten minutes
+than Tony Cornish could have learnt in a month of patient
+investigation. The first five of these ten precious minutes were spent
+in kissing Dorothy Roden, and admiring her hat, and holding her at
+arm's length, and saying, with conviction, that she was a dear. Then
+Joan asked why Dorothy had ceased writing, and Dorothy proved that it
+was Joan who had been in default, and lo! a bridge was thrown across
+the years, and they were friends once more.
+
+"And you mean to tell me," said Joan, as they walked up the Korte
+Voorhout towards the canal and the Wood, "that you don't take any
+interest in the Malgamite scheme?"
+
+"No," answered Dorothy. "And I am weary of the very word."
+
+"But then you always were rather--well, frivolous, weren't you?"
+
+"I did not take lessons as seriously as you, perhaps, if that is what
+you mean," admitted Dorothy.
+
+And Joan, who had come across to Holland full of zeal in well-doing,
+and as seriously as ever Queen Marguerite sailed to the Holy Land,
+walked on in silence. The trees were just breaking into leaf, and the
+air was laden with a subtle odour of spring. The Korte Voorhout is, as
+many know, a short broad street, spotlessly clean, bordered on either
+side by quaint and comfortable houses. The traffic is usually limited
+to one carriage going to the Wood, and on the pavement a few leisurely
+persons engaged in taking exercise in the sunshine. It was a different
+atmosphere to that from which Joan had come, more restful, purer
+perhaps, and certainly healthier, possibly more thoughtful; and
+charity, above all virtues, to be practiced well must be practiced
+without too much reflection. He who lets wisdom guide his bounty too
+closely will end by giving nothing at all.
+
+"At all events," said Joan, "it is splendid of Mr. Roden to work so
+hard in the cause, and to give himself up to it as he does."
+
+"Ye--es."
+
+Joan turned sharply and looked at her companion. Dorothy Roden's face
+was not, perhaps, easy to read, especially when she turned, as she
+turned now, to meet an inquiring glance with an easy smile.
+
+"I have known so many of Percy's schemes," she explained, "that you
+must not expect me to be enthusiastic about this."
+
+"But this must succeed, whatever may have happened to the others,"
+cried Joan. "It is such a good cause. Surely nothing can be a better
+aim than to help such afflicted people, who cannot help themselves,
+Dorothy! And it is so splendidly organized. Why, Mr. Johnson, the
+labour expert, you know, who wears no collar and a soft hat, said that
+it could not have been better organized if it had been a strike. And a
+Bishop Somebody--a dear old man with legs like a billiard-table--said
+it reminded him of the early Christians' _esprit de corps_, or
+something like that. Doesn't sound like a bishop, though, does it?"
+
+"No, it doesn't," admitted Dorothy, doubtfully.
+
+"So if your brother thinks it will not succeed," said Joan,
+confidently, "he is wrong. Besides"--in a final voice--"he has Tony to
+help him, you know."
+
+"Yes," said Dorothy, looking straight in front of her, "of course he
+has Mr. Cornish."
+
+"And Tony," pursued Joan, eagerly, "always succeeds. There is something
+about him--I don't know what it is."
+
+Dorothy recollected that Mrs. Vansittart had said something like this
+about Tony Cornish. She had said that he had the power of holding his
+cards and only playing them at the right moment. Which is perhaps
+the secret of success in life, namely, to hold one's cards, and, if the
+right moment does not present itself, never to play them at all, but to
+hold them to the end of the game, contenting one's self with the
+knowledge that one has had, after all, the makings of a fine game that
+might have been worth the playing.
+
+"There are people, you know," Joan broke in earnestly, "who think that
+if they can secure Tony for a picnic the weather will be fine."
+
+"And does he know it?" asked Dorothy, rather shortly.
+
+"Tony?" laughed Joan. "Of course not. He never thinks about anything
+like that."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN THE OUDE WEG.
+
+"Le sage entend a demi mot."
+
+
+The porter of the hotel on the Toornoifeld was enjoying his early
+cigarette in the doorway, when he was impelled by a natural politeness
+to stand aside for one of the visitors in the hotel.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "You promenade yourself thus early?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, cheerily, "I promenade myself thus early."
+
+"You have had your coffee?" asked the porter. "It is not good to go
+near the canals when one is empty."
+
+Cornish lingered a few minutes, and made the man's mind easy on this
+point. There are many who obtain a vast deal of information without
+ever asking a question, just as there are some--and they are mostly
+women--who ask many questions and are told many lies. Tony Cornish had
+a cheery way with him which made other men talk. He was also as quick
+as a woman. He went about the world picking up information.
+
+The city clocks were striking seven as he walked across the
+Toornoifeld, where the morning mist still lingered among the trees. The
+great square was almost deserted. Holland, unlike France, is a lie-abed
+country, and at an hour when a French town would be astir and its
+streets already thronged with people hurrying to buy or sell at the
+greatest possible advantage, a Dutch city is still asleep. Park Straat
+was almost deserted as Cornish walked briskly down it towards the
+Willem's Park and Scheveningen. A few street cleaners were leisurely
+working, a few milkmen were hurrying from door to door, but the houses
+were barred and silent.
+
+Cornish walked on the right-hand side of the road, which made it all
+the easier for Mrs. Vansittart to perceive him from her bedroom window
+as he passed Oranje Straat.
+
+"Ah!" said that lady, and rang the bell for her maid, to whom she
+explained that she had a sudden desire to take a promenade this fine
+morning.
+
+So Tony Cornish walked down the Oude Weg under the trees of that great
+thoroughfare, with Mrs. Vansittart following him leisurely by one of
+the side paths, which, being elevated above the road enabled her to
+look down upon the Englishman and keep him in sight. When he came
+within view of the broad road that cuts the Scheveningen wood in two
+and leads from the East Dunes to the West--from the Malgamite Works, in
+a word, to the cemetery--he sat down on a bench hidden by the trees.
+And Mrs. Vansittart, a hundred yards behind him, took possession of a
+seat as effectually concealed.
+
+They remained thus for some time, the object of a passing curiosity to
+the fish-merchants journeying from Scheveningen to The Hague. Then Tony
+Cornish seemed to perceive something on the road towards the sea which
+interested him, and Mrs. Vansittart, rising from her seat, walked down
+to the main pathway, which commanded an uninterrupted view. That which
+had attracted Cornish's attention was a funeral, cheap, sordid, and
+obscure, which moved slowly across the Oude Weg by the road, crossing
+it at right angles. It was a peculiar funeral, inasmuch as it consisted
+of three hearses and one mourning carriage. The dead were, therefore,
+almost as numerous as the living, an unusual feature in civil burials.
+From the window of the rusty mourning coach there looked a couple of
+debased countenances, flushed with drink and that special form of
+excitement which is especially associated with a mourning coach hired
+on credit and a funeral beyond one's means. Behind these two faces
+loomed others. There seemed to be six men within the carriage.
+
+The procession was not inspiriting, and Cornish's face was momentarily
+grave as he watched it. When it had passed, he rose and walked slowly
+back towards The Hague. Before he had gone far, he met Mrs. Vansittart
+face to face, who rose from a seat as he approached.
+
+"Well, _mon ami_," she asked, with a short laugh, "have you had a
+pleasant walk?"
+
+"It has had a pleasant end, at all events," he replied, meeting her
+glance with an imperturbable smile.
+
+She jerked her head upwards with a little foreign gesture of
+indifference.
+
+"It is to be presumed," she said, as they walked on side by side, "that
+you have been exploring and investigating our--byways. Remember, my
+good Tony, that I live in The Hague, and may therefore be possessed of
+information that might be useful to you. It will probably be at your
+disposal when you need it."
+
+She looked at him with daring black eyes, and laughed. A strong man
+usually takes a sort of pride in his power. This woman enjoyed the same
+sort of exultation in her own cleverness. She was not wise enough to
+hide it, which is indeed a grim, negative pleasure usually enjoyed by
+elderly gentlemen only. Social progress has, moreover, made it almost a
+crime to hide one's light under a bushel. Are we not told, in so many
+words, by the interviewer and the personal paragraphist, that it is
+every man's duty to set his light upon a candlestick, so that his
+neighbour may at least try to blow it out?
+
+Cornish had learnt to know Mrs. Vansittart at a period in her life
+when, as a young married woman, she regarded all her juniors with a
+matronly goodwill, none the less active that it was so exceedingly new.
+She had in those days given much good advice, which Cornish had
+respectfully heard. Fate had brought them together at the rare moment
+and in almost the sole circumstances that allow of a friendship being
+formed between a man and a woman.
+
+They walked slowly side by side now under the trees of the Oude Weg,
+inhaling the fresh morning air, which was scented by a hundred breaths
+of spring, and felt clean to face and lips. Mrs. Vansittart had no
+intention of resigning her position of mentor and friend. It was,
+moreover, one of those positions which will not bear being defined in
+so many words. Between men and women it often happens that to point out
+the existence of certain feelings is to destroy them. To say, "Be my
+friend," as often as not makes friendship impossible. Mrs. Vansittart
+was too clever a woman to run such a risk in dealing with a man in whom
+she had detected a reserve of which the rest of the world had taken no
+account. It is unwise to enter into war or friendship without seeing to
+the reserves.
+
+"Do you remember," asked Mrs. Vansittart, suddenly, "how wise we were
+when we were young? What knowledge of the world, what experience of
+life one has when all life is before one!"
+
+"Yes," admitted Cornish, guardedly.
+
+"But if I preached a great deal, I at all events did you no harm," said
+Mrs. Vansittart, with a laugh.
+
+"No."
+
+"And as to experience, well, one buys that later."
+
+"Yes; and the wise re-sell--at a profit," laughed Cornish. "It is not a
+commodity that any one cares to keep. If we cannot sell it, we offer it
+for nothing, to the young."
+
+"Who accept it, at an even lower valuation; and you and I, Mr. Tony
+Cornish, are cynics who talk cheap epigrams to hide our thoughts."
+
+They walked on for a few yards in silence. Then Tony turned in his
+quick way and looked at her. He had thin, mobile lips, which expressed
+friendship and curiosity at this moment.
+
+"What are _you_ thinking?" he asked.
+
+She turned and looked at him with grave, searching eyes, and when these
+met his it became apparent that their friendship had re-established
+itself.
+
+"Of your affairs," she answered, "and funerals."
+
+"Both lugubrious," suggested Cornish. "But I am obliged to you for so
+far honouring me."
+
+He broke off, and again walked on in silence. She glanced at him half
+angrily, and gave a quick shrug of the shoulders.
+
+"Then you will not speak," she said, opening her parasol with a snap.
+"So be it. The time has perhaps not come yet. But if I am in the humour
+when that time does come, you will find that you have no ally so strong
+as I. Ah, you may stick your chin out and look as innocent as you like!
+You are not easy in your mind, my good friend, about this precious
+Malgamite scheme. But I ask no confidences, and, _bon Dieu_! I give
+none."
+
+She broke off with a little laugh, and looked at him beneath the shade
+of her parasol. She had a hundred foreign ways of putting a whole
+wealth of meaning into a single gesture, into a movement of a parasol
+or a fan, such as women acquire, and use upon poor defenceless men, who
+must needs face the world with stolid faces and slow, dumb hands.
+
+Cornish answered the laugh readily enough. "Ah!" he said, "then I am
+accused of uneasiness of mind of preoccupation, in fact. I plead
+guilty. I made a mistake. I got up too early. It was a fine morning,
+and I was tempted to take a walk before breakfast, which we have at
+half-past nine, in a fine old British way. We have toast and a fried
+sole. Great is the English milord!"
+
+They were in Park Straat now, in sight of Mrs. Vansittart's house. And
+that lady knew that her companion was talking in order to say nothing.
+
+"We leave this morning," continued Cornish, in the same vein. "And we
+rather flatter ourselves that we have upheld the dignity of our nation
+in these benighted foreign parts."
+
+"Ah, that poor Lord Ferriby! It is so easy to laugh at him. You think
+him a fool, although--or because--he is your uncle. So do I, perhaps.
+But I always have a little distrust for the foolishness of a person
+who has once been a knave. You know your uncle's reputation--the past
+one, I mean, not the whitewash. Do not forget it." They had reached the
+corner of Oranje Straat, and Mrs. Vansittart paused on her own
+doorstep. "So you leave this morning," she said. "Remember that I am in
+The Hague, and--well, we were once friends. If I can help you, make use
+of me. You have been wonderfully discreet, my friend. And I have not.
+But discretion is not required of a woman. If there is anything to tell
+you, you shall hear from me."
+
+She held out her hand, and bade him good-bye with a semi-malicious
+laugh. Then she stood in the porch, and watched him walk quickly away.
+
+"So it is Dorothy Roden," she said to herself, with a wise nod. "A
+queer case. One of those at first sight, one may suppose."
+
+The Rodens, of whom she thought at the moment, were not only thinking,
+but speaking of her. They had finished breakfast, and Dorothy was
+standing at the window looking out over the Dunes towards the sea.
+Her brother was still seated at the table, and had lighted a cigarette.
+Like many another who offers an exaggerated respect to women as a
+whole, he was rather inclined to Bohemianism at home, and denied to
+his immediate feminine relations the privileges accorded to their sex
+in general. He was older than Dorothy, who had always been dependent
+upon him to a certain extent. She had a little money of her own, and
+quite recognized the fact that, should her brother marry, she would
+have to work for her living. In the mean time, however, it suited them
+both to live together, and Dorothy had for her brother that affection
+of which only women are capable. It amounts to an affectionate
+tolerance more than to a tolerant affection. For it perceives its
+object's little failings with a calm and judicial eye. It weighs the
+man in the balance, and finds him wanting. This, moreover, is the lot
+of a large proportion of women. This takes the place of that higher
+feeling which is probably the finest emotion of which the human heart
+is capable. And yet there are men who grudge these sufferers their
+petty triumphs, their poor little emancipation, their paltry
+wrangler-ships, their very bicycles.
+
+"You don't like this place--I know that," Percy Roden was saying, in
+continuation of a desultory conversation. He looked up from the letters
+before him with a smile which was kind enough and a little patronizing.
+Patronage is perhaps the armour of the outwitted.
+
+"Not very much," answered Dorothy, with a laugh. "But I dare say it
+will be better in the summer."
+
+"I mean this villa," pursued Roden, flicking the ash from his cigarette
+and leaning back in his chair. He had grand, rather tired gestures,
+which possibly impressed some people. Grandeur, however, like
+sentiment, is not indigenous to the hearth. Our domestic admirers are
+not always watching us.
+
+Dorothy was looking out of the window. "It is not a bad little place,"
+she said practically, "when one has grown accustomed to its sandiness."
+
+"It will not be for long," said Percy Roden.
+
+And his sister turned and looked at him with a sudden gravity.
+
+"Ah!" she said.
+
+"No; I have been thinking that it will be better for us to move into
+The Hague--Park Straat or Oranje Straat."
+
+Dorothy turned and faced him now. There was a faint, far-off
+resemblance between these two, but Dorothy had the better
+face--shrewder, more thoughtful, cleverer. Her eyes, instead of being
+large and dark and rather dreamy, were grey and speculative. Her
+features were clear-cut and well-cut--a face suggestive of feeling and
+of self-suppression, which, when they go together, go to the making of
+a satisfactory human being. This was a woman who, to put it quite
+plainly, would scarcely have been held in honour by our grandmothers,
+but who promised well enough for her possible granddaughters; who, when
+the fads are lived down and the emancipation is over and the shrieking
+is done, will make a very excellent grandmother to a race of women who
+shall be equal to men and respected of men, and, best of all, beloved
+of men. Wise mothers say that their daughters must sooner or later pass
+through an awkward age. Woman is passing through an awkward age now,
+and Dorothy Roden might be classed among those who are doing it
+gracefully.
+
+She looked at her brother with those wise grey eyes, and did not speak
+at once.
+
+"Oranje Straat and Park Straat," she said lightly, "cost money."
+
+"Oh, that is all right!" answered her brother, carelessly, as one who
+in his time has handled great sums.
+
+"Then we are prosperous?" inquired Dorothy, mindful of other great
+ schemes which had not always done their duty by their originator.
+
+"Oh yes! We shall make a good thing out of this Malgamite. The labourer
+is worthy of his hire, you know. There is no reason why we should not
+take a better house than this. Mrs. Vansittart knows of one in Park
+Straat which would suit us. Do you like her--Mrs. Vansittart, I mean?"
+
+His tone was slightly patronizing again. The Malgamite was a success,
+it appeared, and assuredly success is the most difficult emergency that
+a man has to face in life.
+
+"Very much," answered Dorothy, quietly. She looked hard at her brother;
+for Dorothy had long ago gauged him, and had recently gauged Mrs.
+Vansittart with a facility which is quite incomprehensible to men and
+easy enough to women. She knew that her brother was not the sort of man
+to arouse the faintest spark of love in the heart of such a woman as
+her of whom they spoke. And yet Percy's tone implied as clearly as if
+the words had been spoken that he had merely to offer to Mrs.
+Vansittart his hand and heart in order to make her the happiest of
+women. Either Dorothy or her brother was mistaken in Mrs. Vansittart.
+Between a man and a woman it is usually the man who is mistaken in an
+estimate of another woman. Dorothy was wondering, not whether Mrs.
+Vansittart admired her brother, but why that lady was taking the
+trouble to convey to him that such was the case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+SUBURBAN
+
+"Le bonheur c'est etre ne joyeux."
+
+
+There are in the suburbs of London certain strata of men which lie in
+circles of diminishing density around the great city, like _debris_
+around a volcano. London indeed erupts every evening between the hours
+of five and six, and throws out showers of tired men, who lie where
+they fall--or rather where their season ticket drops them--until
+morning, when they arise and crowd back again to the seething crater.
+The deposits of small clerks and tradespeople fall near at hand in a
+dense shower, bounded on the north by Finchley, on the south by
+Streatham. An outer circle of head clerks, Government servants, junior
+partners, covers the land in a stratum reaching as far south as
+Surbiton, as far north as the Alexandra Palace. And beyond these limits
+are cast the brighter lights of commerce, law, and finance, who fall, a
+thin golden shower, in the favoured neighbourhoods of the far suburbs,
+where, from eventide till morning, they play at being country
+gentlemen, talking stock and stable, with minds attuned to share and
+produce.
+
+Mr. Joseph Wade, banker, was one of those who are thrown far afield by
+the facilities of a fine suburban train service. He wore a frock-coat,
+a very shiny hat, and he read the _Times_ in the train. He lived in a
+staring red house, solid brick without and solid comfort within, in the
+favoured pine country of Weybridge. He was one of those pillars of the
+British Constitution who are laughed at behind their backs and
+eminently respected to their faces. His gardeners trembled before him,
+his coachman, as stout and respectable as himself, knew him to be a
+just and a good master, who grudged no man his perquisites, and behaved
+with a fine gentlemanly tact at those trying moments when the departing
+visitor is desirous of tipping and the coachman knows that it is
+blessed to receive.
+
+Mr. Wade rather scorned the amateur country-gentleman hobby which so
+many of his travelling companions affected. It led them to don rough
+tweed suits on Sunday, and walk about their paddocks and gardens as if
+these formed a great estate.
+
+"I am a banker," he said, with that sound common sense which led him to
+avoid those cheap affectations of superiority that belong to the outer
+strata of the daily volcanic deposit--"I am a banker, and I am content
+to be a banker in the evening and on Sundays, as well as during
+bank-hours. What should I know about horses or Alderneys or Dorking
+fowls? None of 'em yield a dividend."
+
+Mr. Wade, in fact, looked upon "The Brambles" as a place of rest,
+arriving there at half-past six, in time to dress for a very good
+dinner. After dinner he read in a small way by no means to be despised.
+He had a taste for biography, and cherished in his stout heart a fine
+old respect for Thackeray and Dickens and Walter Scott. Of the modern
+fictionists he knew nothing.
+
+"Seems to me they are splitting straws, my dear," he once said to an
+earnest young person who thought that literature meant contemporary
+fiction, whereas we all know that the two are in no way connected.
+
+Joseph Wade was a widower, having some years before buried a wife as
+stout and sensible as himself. He never spoke of her except to his
+daughter Marguerite, now leaving school, and usually confined his
+remarks to a consideration of what Marguerite's mother would have liked
+in the circumstances under discussion at the moment.
+
+Marguerite had been educated at Cheltenham, and "finished" at Dresden,
+without any limit as to extras. She had come home from Dresden a few
+months before the Malgamite scheme was set on foot, to find herself
+regarded by her father in the light of a rather delicate financial
+crisis. The affection which had always existed between father and
+daughter soon developed into something stronger--something volatile and
+half mocking on her part, indulgent and half mystified on his.
+
+"She is rather a handful," wrote Mr. Wade to Tony Cornish, "and too
+inconsequent to let my mind be easy about her future. I wish you would
+run down and dine and sleep at 'The Brambles' some evening soon. Monday
+is Marguerite's eighteenth birthday. Will you come on that evening?"
+
+"He is not thirty-three yet," reflected Mr. Wade, as he folded the
+letter and slipped it into an envelope, "and she is the sort of girl
+who must be able to give a man her full respect before she can give
+him--er--anything else."
+
+From which it may be perceived that the astute banker was preparing to
+face the delicate financial crisis.
+
+Cornish received the invitation the day after returning from Holland.
+Mr. Wade had been his father's friend and trustee, and was, he
+understood, distantly related to the mother whom Tony had never known.
+Such invitations were not infrequent, and it was the recipient's custom
+to set aside others in order to reply with an acceptance. A friendship
+had sprung up between two men who were not only divided by a gulf of
+years, but had hardly a thought in common.
+
+On arriving at Weybridge station, Cornish found Marguerite awaiting his
+arrival in a very high dog-cart drawn by an exceedingly shiny cob,
+which animal she proceeded to handle with vast spirit and a blithe
+ignorance. She looked trim and fresh, with bright brown hair under a
+smart sailor hat, and a complexion almost dazzling in its youthfulness
+and brilliancy. She nodded gaily at Cornish.
+
+"Hop up," she said encouragingly, "and then hang on like grim death.
+There are going to be--whoa, my pet!--er--ructions. All right, William.
+Let go."
+
+William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob
+squeaked, stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then
+dashed across the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to
+observe a bank of stones at one side of the road.
+
+"Do you mind this sort of thing?" inquired Marguerite, as they bumped
+heavily over the obstruction.
+
+"Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it." Marguerite
+arranged the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle
+across her companion's vision.
+
+"I'm learning to drive, you know," she said, leaning confidently down
+from her high seat. "And papa thinks that because this young gentleman
+is rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady!
+Keep off the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to--Well, I'm"--she
+hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to
+the road again--"blowed," she added, religiously completing her
+unfinished sentence.
+
+They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more
+steadily.
+
+"I am very glad you have come, you know," Marguerite took the
+opportunity of assuring the visitor. "It is jolly slow, I can tell you,
+at times; and then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to
+manage. It took me a week to get this pony out of him. His great idea
+is for somebody to marry me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that
+has to be placed or sunk or something, somewhere. There was a young
+Scotchman here the week before last. I have forgotten his name already.
+John--something--Fairly. Yes, that is it--John Fairly, of
+Auchen-something. It is better to be John Fairly, of Auchen-something,
+than a belted earl, it appears."
+
+"Did John tell you so himself?" inquired Tony.
+
+"Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on
+my guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice
+and sheer off."
+
+"I will," said Tony.
+
+"And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure
+that he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not
+speak to him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a
+Scotch accent--just a suspeecion of an accent, you know--nothing to get
+hold of, but just enough to let him know that his Auchen-something
+would not go down with me."
+
+She spoke with a sort of inconsequent earnestness, a relic of the
+school-days she had so lately left behind. She did not seem to have had
+time to decide yet whether life was a rattling farce or a matter of
+deadly earnest. And who shall blame her, remembering that older heads
+than hers are no clearer on that point?
+
+On approaching the red villa by its short entrance drive of yellow
+gravel, they perceived Mr. Wade slowly walking in his garden. The
+garden of "The Brambles" was exactly the sort of garden one would
+expect to find attached to a house of that name. It was chiefly
+conspicuous for its lack of brambles, or indeed of any vegetable of
+such disorderly habit. Yellow gravel walks intersected smooth lawns.
+April having drawn almost to its close, there were thin red lines of
+tulips standing at attention all along the flowery borders. Not a stalk
+was out of place. One suspected that the flowers had been drilled by a
+martinet of a gardener. The sight of an honest weed would have been a
+relief to the eye. The curse of too much gardener and too little nature
+lay over the land.
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Wade, holding out a large white hand. "You perceive me
+inspecting the garden, and if you glance in the direction of
+McPherson's cottage you will perceive McPherson watching me. I pay him
+a hundred and twenty and he knows that it is too much."
+
+"By the way, papa," put in Marguerite, gravely, "will you tell
+McPherson that he will receive a month's notice if he counts the
+peaches this summer, as he did last year?"
+
+Mr. Wade laughed, and promised her a freer hand in this matter. They
+walked in the trim garden until it was time to dress for dinner, and
+Cornish saw enough to convince him that Mr. Wade was fully occupied
+between banking hours in his capacity as Marguerite's father.
+
+That young lady came down as the bell rang, in a white dress as fresh
+and girlish as herself, and during the meal, which was long and
+somewhat solemn, entertained the guest with considerable liveliness. It
+was only after she had left them to their wine, over which the banker
+loved to linger in the old-fashioned way that Mr. Wade put on his grave
+financial air. He fingered his glass thoughtfully, as if choosing, not
+a subject of conversation, but a suitable way of approaching a
+premeditated question.
+
+"You do not recollect your mother?" he said suddenly.
+
+"No; she died when I was two years old."
+
+Mr. Wade nodded, and slowly sipped his port. "Queer thing is," he said,
+after a pause and looking towards the door, "that that child is
+startlingly like what your mother used to be at the age of eighteen,
+when I first knew her. Perhaps it is only my imagination--not that I
+have much of that. Perhaps all girls are alike at that age--a sort of
+freshness and an optimism that positively take one's breath away. At
+any rate, she reminds me of your mother." He broke off, and looked at
+Cornish with his slow and rather ponderous smile. His attitude towards
+the world was indeed one of conscious ponderosity. He did not attempt
+to understand the lighter side of life, but took it seriously as a
+work-a-day matter. "I was once in love with your mother," he stated
+squarely. "But circumstances were against us. You see, your father was
+a lord's younger brother, and that made a great difference in Clapham
+in those days. I felt it a good deal at the time, but I of course got
+over it years and years ago. No sentiment about me, Tony. Sentiment and
+seventeen stone won't balance, you know." The great man slowly drew the
+decanter towards him. "She got a better husband in your father--a
+clever, bright chap--and I was best man, I recollect. It was about that
+time--about your age I was--that I took seriously to my work. Before, I
+had been a little wild. And that interest has lasted me right up to the
+present time. Take my word for it, Tony, the greatest interest in life
+would be money-making--if one only knew what to do with the money
+afterwards." The banker had been eating a biscuit, and he now swept the
+crumbs together with his little finger from all sides in a lessening
+circle until they formed a heap upon the white tablecloth. "It
+accumulates," he said slowly, "accumulates, accumulates. And, after
+all, one can only eat and drink the best that are to be obtained, and
+the best costs so little--a mere drop in the ocean." He handed Tony
+the decanter as he spoke. "Then I married Marguerite's mother, some
+years afterwards, when I was a middle-aged man. She was the only
+daughter of--the bank, you know."
+
+And that seemed to be all that there was to be said about Marguerite's
+mother.
+
+Tony Cornish nodded in his quick, sympathetic way. Mr. Wade had told
+him none of this before, but it was to be presumed that he had heard at
+least part of it from other sources. His manner now indicated that he
+was interested, but he did not ask his companion to say one word more
+than he felt disposed to utter. It is probable that he knew these to be
+no idle after-dinner words, spoken without premeditation, out of a full
+heart; for Mr. Wade was not, as he had boasted, a person of sentiment,
+but a plain, straightforward business man, who, if he had no meaning to
+convey, said nothing. And in this respect it is a pity that more are
+not like him.
+
+"We have always been pretty good friends, you and I," continued the
+banker, "though I know I am not exactly your sort. I am distinctly
+City; you are as distinctly West End. But during your minority, and
+when we settled up accounts on your coming of age, and since then, we
+have always hit it off pretty well."
+
+"Yes," said Cornish, moving his feet impatiently under the table.
+
+There was no mistaking the aim of all this, and Mr. Wade was too
+British in his habits to beat about the bush much longer.
+
+"I do not mind telling you that I have got you down in my will," said
+the banker.
+
+Cornish bit his lip and frowned at his wine-glass. And it is possible
+that the man of no sentiment understood his silence.
+
+"I have frequently disbelieved what I have heard of you," went on the
+elder man. "You have, doubtless, enemies--as all men have--and you have
+been a trifle reckless, perhaps, of what the world might say. If you
+will allow me to say so, I think none the worse of you for that."
+
+Mr. Wade pushed the decanter across the table, and when Cornish had
+filled his glass, drew it back towards himself. It is wonderful what
+resource there is in half a glass of wine, if merely to examine it when
+it is hard to look elsewhere.
+
+"You remember, six months ago, I spoke to you of a personal matter,"
+said the banker. "I asked you if you had thoughts of marrying, and
+suggested something in the nature of a partnership if that would
+facilitate your plans in any way."
+
+"That is not the sort of offer one is likely to forget," answered
+Cornish.
+
+"I asked you if--well, if it was Joan Ferriby."
+
+
+"Yes. And I answered that it was not Joan Ferriby. That was mere
+gossip, of which we are both aware, and for which neither of us cares
+a pin."
+
+"Then it comes to this," said Mr. Wade, drawing lines on the tablecloth
+with his dessert knife as if it were a balance-sheet, and he was
+casting the final totals there. "You are a man of the world; you are
+clever; you are like your father before you, in that you have something
+that women care about. Heaven only knows what it is, for I don't!" He
+paused, and looked at his companion as if seeking that intangible
+something. Then he jerked his head towards the drawing-room, where
+Marguerite could be dimly heard playing an air from the latest comic
+opera with a fine contempt for accidentals. "That child," he said,
+"knows no more about life than a sparrow. A man like myself--seventeen
+stone--may have to balance his books at any moment. You have a clear
+field; for you may take my word for it that you will be the first in
+it. My own experience of life has been mostly financial, but I am
+pretty certain that the first man a woman cares for is the man she
+cares for all along, though she may never see him again. I don't hold
+it out as an inducement, but there is no reason why you should not know
+that she will have a hundred and fifty thousand pounds--not when I am
+dead, but on the day she marries." Mr. Wade paused, and took a sip of
+his most excellent port. "Do not hurry," he said. "Take your time.
+Think about it carefully--unless you have already thought about it, and
+can say yes or no now."
+
+"I can do that."
+
+Mr. Wade bent forward heavily, with one arm on the table.
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Which is it?"
+
+"It is no," answered Cornish, simply. The banker passed his
+table-napkin across his lips, paused for a moment, and then rose with,
+as was his hospitable custom, his hand upon the sherry decanter. "Then
+let us go into the drawing-room," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE MAKING OF A MAN.
+
+"Heureux celui qui n'est forcee de sacrifier personne a son devoir."
+
+
+"You know," said Marguerite the next morning, as she and Cornish rode
+quietly along the sandy roads, beneath the shade of the pines--"you
+know, papa is such a jolly, simple old dear--he doesn't understand
+women in the least."
+
+"And do you call yourself a woman nowadays?" inquired Cornish.
+
+"You bet. Bet those grey hairs of yours if you like.
+I see them! All down one side."
+
+"They are all down both sides and on the top as well--my good--woman.
+How does your father fail to understand you?"
+
+"Well, to begin with, he thinks it necessary to have Miss Williams, to
+housekeep and chaperon, and to do oddments generally--as if I couldn't
+run the show myself. You haven't seen Miss Williams--oh, crikey!
+She has gone to Cheltenham for a holiday, for which you may thank your
+eternal stars. She is just the sort of person who _would_ go to
+Cheltenham. Then papa is desperately keen about my marrying. He keeps
+trotting likely _partis_ down here to dine and sleep--that's why you
+are here, I haven't a shadow of a doubt. None of the _partis_ have
+passed muster yet. Poor old thing, he thinks I do not see through his
+little schemes."
+
+Cornish laughed, and glanced at Marguerite under the shade of his straw
+hat, wondering, as men have probably wondered since the ages began, how
+it is that women seem to begin life with as great a knowledge of the
+world as we manage to acquire towards the end of our experience.
+Marguerite made her statements with a certain careless _aplomb_, and
+these were usually within measurable distance of the fact, whereas a
+youth her age and ten years older, if he be of a didactic turn, will
+hold forth upon life and human nature with an ignorance of both which
+is positively appalling.
+
+"Now, I don't want to marry," said Marguerite, suddenly returning to
+her younger and more earnest manner. "What is the good of marrying?"
+
+"What, indeed," echoed Cornish.
+
+"Well, then, if papa tackles you--about me, I mean--when he has done
+the _Times_--he won't say anything before, the _Times_ being the first
+object in papa's existence, and yours very truly the second--just you
+choke him off--won't you?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Promise?"
+
+"Promise faithfully."
+
+"That's all right. Now tell me--is my hat on one side?"
+
+
+Cornish assured her that her hat was straight, and then they talked of
+other things, until they came to a ditch suitable for some jumping
+lessons, which he had promised to give her.
+
+She was bewilderingly changeable, at one moment childlike, and in the
+next very wise--now a heedless girl, and a moment later a keen woman of
+the world--appearing to know more of that abode of evil than she well
+could. Her colour came and went--her very eyes seemed to change.
+Cornish thought of this open field which Marguerite's father had
+offered, and perhaps he thought of the hundred and fifty thousand
+pounds that lay beneath so bright a surface.
+
+On returning to "The Brambles," they found Mr. Wade reading the _Times_
+in the glass-covered veranda of that eligible suburban mansion. It
+being a Saturday, the great banker was taking a holiday, and Cornish
+had arranged not to return to town until midday.
+
+"Come here," shouted Mr. Wade, "and have a cigar while you read the
+paper."
+
+"And remember," added Marguerite, slim and girlish in her riding-habit;
+"choke him off!"
+
+She stood on the door-step, looking over her shoulder, and nodded at
+Cornish, her fresh lips tilted at the corner by a smile full of gaiety
+and mysticism.
+
+"Read that," said Mr. Wade, gravely.
+
+But Mr. Wade was always grave--was clad in gravity and a frock-coat all
+his waking moments--and Cornish took up the newspaper carelessly. He
+stretched out his legs and lighted a cigar. Then he leisurely turned to
+the column indicated by his companion. It was headed, "Crisis in the
+Paper Trade: the Malgamite Corner."
+
+And Tony Cornish did not raise his eyes from the printed sheet for a
+full ten minutes. When at length he looked up, he found Mr. Wade
+watching him, placid and patient.
+
+"Can't make head or tail of it," he said, with a laugh.
+
+"I will make both head and tail of it for you," said Mr. Wade, who in
+his own world had a certain reputation for plain speaking.
+
+It was even said that this stout banker could tell a man to his face
+that he was a scoundrel with a cooler nerve than any in Lombard Street.
+
+"What has occurred," he said, slowly folding the advertisement sheet of
+the _Times_, "is only what has been foreseen for a long time. The world
+has been degenerating into a maudlin state of sentiment for some years.
+The East End began it; a thousand sentimental charities have fostered
+the movement. Now, I am a plain man--a City man, Tony, to the tips of
+my toes." And he stuck out a large square-toed foot and looked
+contemplatively at it. "Half of your precious charities--the societies
+that you and Joan Ferriby, and, if you will allow me to say so, that
+ass Ferriby, are mixed up in--are not fraudulent, but they are pretty
+near it. Some people who have no right to it are putting other people's
+money into their pockets. It is the money of fools--a fool and his
+money are soon parted, you know--but that does not make matters any
+better. The fools do not always part with their money for the right
+reason; but that also is of small importance. It is not our business if
+some of them do it because they like to see their names printed under
+the names of the royal and the great--if others do it for the mere
+satisfaction of being life--governors of this and that institution--if
+others, again, head the county lists because they represent a part of
+that county in Parliament--if the large majority give of their surplus
+to charities because they are dimly aware that they are no better than
+they should be, and wish to take shares in a concern that will pay a
+dividend in the hereafter. They know that they cannot take their money
+out of this world with them, so they think they had better invest some
+of it in what they vaguely understand to be a great limited company,
+with the bishops on the board and--I say it with all reverence--the
+Almighty in the chair. I would not say this to the first-comer because
+it would not be well received, and it is not fashionable to treat
+Charity from a common-sense point of view. It is fashionable to send a
+cheque to this and that charity--feeling that it is charity, and
+therefore will be all right, and that the cheque will be duly placed on
+the credit side of the drawer's account in the heavenly books, however
+it may be foolishly spent or fraudulently appropriated by the payee on
+earth. Half a dozen of the fashionable charities are rotten, but we
+have not had a thorough-going swindle up to this time. We have been
+waiting for it ... in Lombard Street. It is there...."
+
+He paused, and tapped the printed column of the _Times_ with a fat and
+inexorable forefinger. He was, it must be remembered, a mere banker--a
+person in the City, where honesty is esteemed above the finer qualities
+of charity and beneficence, where soul and sentiment are so little
+known that he who of his charity giveth away another's money is held
+accountable for his manner of spending it.
+
+"It is there, ... and you have the honour of being mixed up in it,"
+said Mr. Wade.
+
+Cornish took up the paper, and looked at the printed words with a vague
+surprise.
+
+"There is no knowing," went on the banker, "how the world will take it.
+It is one of our greatest financial difficulties that there is never
+any knowing how the world will take anything. Of course, we in the City
+are plain-going men, who have no handles to our names and no time for
+the fashionable fads. We are only respectable, and we cannot afford to
+be mixed up in such a scheme as your malgamite business." Mr. Wade
+glanced at Cornish and paused a moment. He was a stolid Englishman, who
+had received punishment in his time, and could hit hard when he deemed
+that hard hitting was merciful. "It has only been a question of time.
+The credulity of the public is such that, sooner or later, a bogus
+charity must assuredly have followed in the wake of the thousand bogus
+companies that exist to-day. I only wonder that it has not come sooner.
+You and Ferriby and, of course, the women have been swindled, my dear
+Tony--that is the head and the tail of it."
+
+Cornish laughed gaily. "I dare say we have," he admitted. "But I will
+be hanged if I see what it all means, now."
+
+"It may mean ruin to those who have anything to lose," explained Mr.
+Wade, calmly. "The whole thing has been cleverly planned--one of the
+cleverest things of recent years, and the man who thought it out had
+the makings of a great financier in him. What he wanted to do was to
+get the malgamite industry into his own hands. If he had formed a
+company and gone about it in a straightforward manner, the paper-makers
+of the whole world would have risen like one man and smashed him.
+Instead of that, he moved with the times, and ran the thing as a
+charity--a fashionable amusement, in fact. The malgamite industry is
+neither better nor worse than the other dangerous trades, and no man
+need go into it unless he likes. But the man who started this
+thing--whoever he may be--supplied that picturesqueness without which
+the public cannot be moved--and lo! We have an army of martyrs."
+
+Mr. Wade paused and jerked the ash from his cigar. He glanced at
+Cornish.
+
+"No one suspected that there was anything wrong. It was plausibly put
+forth, and Ferriby ... did his best for it. Then the money began to
+come in, and once money begins to come in for a popular charity the
+difficulty is to stop it. I suppose it is still coming in?"
+
+"Yes," said Cornish. "It is still coming in, and nobody is trying to
+stop it."
+
+Mr. Wade laughed in his throat, as fat men do. "And," he cried, sitting
+upright and banging his heavy fist down on the arm of his chair--"and
+there are millions in your malgamite works at the Hague--millions. If
+it were only honest it would be the finest monopoly the world has ever
+seen--for two years, but no longer. At the end of that period the
+paper-makers will have had time to combine and make their own
+stuff--then they'll smash you. But during those two years all the
+makers in the world will have to buy your malgamite at the price you
+chose to put upon it. They have their forward contracts to
+fulfil--government contracts, Indian contracts, newspaper contracts.
+Thousands and thousands of tons of paper will have to be manufactured
+at a loss every week during the next two years, or they'll have to shut
+up their mills. Now do you see where you are?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, "I see where I am, now."
+
+His face was drawn and his eyes hard, like those of a man facing ruin.
+And that which was written on his face was an old story, so old that
+some may not think it worth the telling; for he had found out (as all
+who are fortunate will, sooner or later, discover) that success or
+failure, riches or poverty, greatness or obscurity, are but small
+things in a man's life. Mr. Wade looked at his companion with a sort of
+wonder in his shrewd old face. He had seen ruined men before now--he
+had seen criminals convicted of their wrong-doing--he had seen old and
+young in adversity, and, what is more dangerous still, in
+prosperity--but he had never seen a young face grow old in the
+twinkling of an eye. The banker was only thinking of this matter as a
+financial crisis, in which his great skill made him take a master's
+delight. There must inevitably come a great crash, and Mr. Wade's
+interest was aroused. Cornish was realizing that the crash would of a
+certainty fall between himself and Dorothy.
+
+"This thing," continued the banker, judicially, "has not evolved
+itself. It is not the result of a singular chain of circumstances. It
+is the deliberate and careful work of one man's brain. This sort of
+speculative gambling comes to us from America. It was in America that
+the first cotton corner was conceived. That is what the paper means
+when it plainly calls it the malgamite corner. Now, what I want to know
+is this--who has worked this thing?"
+
+"Percy Roden," answered Cornish, thoughtfully. "It is Roden's corner."
+
+"Then Roden's a clever fellow," said the great financier. "The sort of
+man who will die a millionaire or a felon--there is no medium for that
+sort. He has conducted the thing with consummate skill--has not made a
+mistake yet. For I have watched him. He began well, by saying just
+enough and not too much. He went abroad, but not too far abroad. He
+avoided a suspicious remoteness. Then he bided his time with a fine
+patience, and at the right moment converted it quietly into a
+company--with a capital subscribed by the charitable--a splendid piece
+of audacity. I saw the announcement in the newspaper, neatly worded,
+and issued at the precise moment when the public interest was beginning
+to wane, and before the thing was forgotten. People read it, and having
+found a new plaything--bicycles, I suppose--did not care two pins what
+became of the malgamite scheme, and yet they were not left in a
+position to be able to say that they had never heard that the thing had
+been turned into a company." The banker rubbed his large soft hands
+together with a grim appreciation of this misapplied skill, which so
+few could recognize at its full value.
+
+"But," he continued, in his deliberate, practical way, as if in the
+course of his experience he had never yet met a difficulty which could
+not be overcome, "it is more our concern to think about the future. The
+difficulty you are in would be bad enough in itself--it is made a
+hundred times worse by the fact that you have a man like Roden, with
+all the trumps in his hand, waiting for you to throw the first card. Of
+course, I know no details yet, but I soon shall. What seems complicated
+to you may appear simple enough to me. I am going to stand by
+you--understand that, Tony. Through thick and thin. But I am going to
+stand behind you. I can hit harder from there. And this is just one of
+those affairs with which my name must not be associated.
+So far as I can judge at present, there seems to be only one course
+open to you, and that is to abandon the whole affair as quietly and
+expeditiously as possible, to drop malgamite and the hope of benefiting
+the malgamite workers once and for all."
+
+Tony was looking at his watch. It was, it appeared, time for him to go
+if he wanted to catch his train.
+
+"No," he said, rising; "I will be d----d if I do that."
+
+Mr. Wade looked at him curiously, as one may look at a sleeper who for
+no apparent reason suddenly wakes and stretches himself.
+
+"Ah!" he said slowly, and that was all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+UNSOUND.
+
+"Be wiser than other people if you can; but do not tell them so."
+
+
+If Major White was not a man of quick comprehension, he was, at all
+events, honest in his density. He never said that he understood when he
+did not do so. When he received a telegram in barracks at Dover to come
+up to London the next day and meet Cornish at his club at one o'clock,
+the major merely said that he was in a state of condemnation, and
+fixing his glass very carefully into his more surprised eye, studied
+the thin pink paper as if it were a unique and interesting proof of the
+advance of the human race. In truth, Major White never sent telegrams,
+and rarely received them. He blew out his cheeks and said a second time
+that he was damned. Then he threw the telegram into a waste-paper
+basket, which was rarely put to so legitimate a use; for the major
+never wrote letters if he could help it, and received so few that they
+hardly kept him supplied in pipe-lights.
+
+He apparently had no intention of replying to Cornish's telegram,
+arguing very philosophically in his mind that he would go if he could,
+and if he could not, it would not matter very much. A method of
+contemplating life, as a picture with a perspective to it, which may be
+highly recommended to fussy people who herald their paltry little
+comings and goings by a number of unnecessary communications.
+
+Without, therefore, attempting a surmise as to the meaning of this
+summons, White took a morning train to London, and solemnly reported
+himself to the hall porter of a club in St. James's Street as the
+well-dressed throng was leisurely returning from church.
+
+"Mr. Cornish told me to come and have lunch with him," he said, in his
+usual bald style, leaving explanations and superfluous questions to
+such as had time for luxuries of that description.
+
+He was taken charge of by a button-boy, whose head reached the major's
+lowest waistcoat button, was deprived of his hat and stick, and
+practically commanded to wash his hands, to all of which he submitted
+under stolid and silent protest.
+
+Then he was led upstairs, refusing absolutely to hurry, although urged
+most strongly thereto by the boy's example and manner of pausing a few
+steps higher up and looking back.
+
+"Yes," said the major, when he had heard Cornish's story across the
+table, and during the consumption of a perfectly astonishing
+luncheon--"yes; half the trouble in this world comes from the
+incapacity of the ordinary human being to mind his own business." He
+operated on a creaming Camembert cheese with much thoughtfulness, and
+then spoke again. "I should like you to tell me," he said, "what a
+couple of idiots like us have to do with these confounded malgamiters.
+We do not know anything about industry or workmen--or work, so far as
+that goes"--he paused and looked severely across the table--"especially
+you," he added.
+
+Which was strictly true; for Tony Cornish was and always had been a
+graceful idler. He was one of those unfortunate men who possess
+influential relatives, than which there are few heavier handicaps in
+that game of life, where if there be any real scoring to be done, it
+must be compassed off one's own bat. To follow out the same inexpensive
+simile, influential relatives may get a man into a crack club, but they
+cannot elect him to the first eleven. So Tony Cornish, who had never
+done anything, but had waited vaguely for something to turn up that
+might be worth his while to seize, had no answer ready, and only
+laughed gaily in his friend's face.
+
+"The first thing we must do," he said, very wisely leaving the past to
+take care of itself, "is to get old Ferriby out of it."
+
+"'Cos he is a lord?"
+
+"Partly."
+
+"'Cos he is an ass?" suggested White, as a plausible alternative.
+
+"Partly; but chiefly because he is not the sort of man we want if there
+is going to be a fight."
+
+A momentary light gleamed in the major's eye, but it immediately gave
+place to a placid interest in the Camembert.
+
+"If there is going to be a fight," he said, "I'm on."
+
+In which trivial remark the major explained his whole life and mental
+attitude. And if the world only listened, instead of thinking what
+effect it is creating and what it is going to say next, it would catch
+men thus giving themselves away in their daily talk from morning till
+night. For Major White had always been "on" when there was fighting. By
+dint of exchanging and volunteering and asking, and generally bothering
+people in a thick-skinned, dull way, he always managed to get to the
+front, where his competitors--the handful of modern knights-errant who
+mean to make a career in the army, and inevitably succeed--were not
+afraid of him, and laughingly liked him. And the barrack-room
+balladists had discovered that White rhymes with Fight. And lo! Another
+man had made a name for himself in a world that is already too full of
+names, so that in the paths of Fame the great must necessarily fall
+against each other.
+
+After luncheon, in the smaller smoking-room, where they were alone,
+Cornish explained the situation at greater length to Major White, who
+did not even pretend to understand it.
+
+"All I can make of it is that that loose-shouldered chap Roden is a
+scoundrel," he said bluntly, from behind a great cigar, "and wants
+thumping. Now, if there's anything in that line--"
+
+"No; but you must not tell him so," interrupted Cornish. "I wish to
+goodness I could make you understand that cunning can only be met by
+cunning, not by thumps, in these degenerate days. Old Wade has taken us
+by the hand, as I tell you. They come to town, by the way, to-morrow,
+and will be in Eaton Square for the rest of the season. He says that it
+is his business to meet the low cunning of the small solicitors and the
+noble army of company promoters, and it seems that he knows exactly
+what to do. At any rate, it is not expedient to thump Roden."
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders with much silent wisdom. He
+believed, it appeared, in thumps in face of any evidence in favour of
+milder methods.
+
+"Deuced sorry for that girl," he said.
+
+Cornish was lighting a cigarette. "What girl?" he asked quietly.
+
+"Miss Roden, chap's sister. She knows her brother is a dark horse, but
+she wouldn't admit it, not if you were to kill her for it. Women"--the
+major paused in his great wisdom--"women are a rum lot."
+
+Which, assuredly, no one is prepared to deny.
+
+Cornish glanced at his companion through the cigarette smoke, and said
+nothing.
+
+"However," continued the major, "I am at your service. Let us have the
+orders."
+
+"To-morrow," answered Cornish, "is Monday, and therefore the Ferribys
+will be at home. You and I are to go to Cambridge Terrace about four
+o'clock to see my uncle. We will scare him out of the Malgamite
+business. Then we will go upstairs and settle matters with Joan. Wade
+and Marguerite will drop in about half-past four. Joan and Marguerite
+see a good deal of each other, you know. If we have any difficulty with
+my uncle, Wade will give him the _coup de grace_, you understand. His
+word will have more weight than ours We shall then settle on a plan of
+campaign, and clear out of my aunt's drawing-room before the crowd
+comes."
+
+"And you will do the talking," stipulated Major White.
+
+"Oh yes; I will do the talking. And now I must be off. I have a lot of
+calls to pay, and it is getting late. You will find me here to-morrow
+afternoon at a quarter to four."
+
+Whereupon Major White took his departure, to appear again the next day
+in good time, placid and debonair--as he had appeared when called upon
+in various parts of the world, where things were stirring.
+
+They took a hansom, for the afternoon was showery, and drove through
+the crowded streets. Even Cambridge Terrace, usually a quiet
+thoroughfare, was astir with traffic, for it was the height of the
+season and a levee day. As the cab swung round into Cambridge Terrace,
+White suddenly pushed his stick up through the trap-door in the roof of
+the vehicle.
+
+"Ninety-nine," he shouted to the driver in his great voice. "Not nine."
+
+Then he threw himself back against the dingy blue cushions.
+
+Cornish turned and looked at him in surprise. "Gone off your head?" he
+inquired. "It is nine--you know that well enough."
+
+"Yes," answered White, "I know that, my good soul; but you could not
+see the door as I could when we came round the corner. Roden and Von
+Holzen are on the steps, coming out."
+
+"Roden and Von Holzen in England?"
+
+
+"Not only in England," said White, placidly, "but in Cambridge Terrace.
+And "--he paused, seeking a suitable remark among his small selection
+of conversational remnants--"and the fat is in the fire."
+
+The cab had now stopped at the door of number ninety-nine. And if Roden
+or Von Holzen, walking leisurely down Cambridge Terrace, had turned
+during the next few moments, they would have seen a stationary hansom
+cab, with a large round face--mildly surprised, like a pink harvest
+moon--rising cautiously over the roof of it, watching them.
+
+When the coast was clear, Cornish and White walked back to number nine.
+Lord Ferriby was at home, and they were ushered into his study, an
+apartment which, like many other things appertaining to his lordship,
+was calculated to convey an erroneous impression. There were books upon
+the tables--the lives of great and good men. Pamphlets relating to
+charitable matters, missionary matters, and a thousand schemes for the
+amelioration of the human lot here and hereafter, lay about in
+profusion. This was obviously the den of a great philanthropist.
+
+His lordship presently appeared, carrying a number of voting papers,
+which he threw carelessly on the table. He was, it seemed, a subscriber
+to many institutions for the blind, the maimed, and the halt.
+
+"Ah!" he said, "I generally get through my work in the morning, but I
+find myself behindhand to-day. It is wonderful," he added, directing
+his conversation and his benevolent gaze towards White, "how busy an
+idle man may be."
+
+
+
+"M--m--yes!" answered the major, with his stolid stare.
+
+Cornish broke what threatened to be an awkward silence by referring at
+once to the subject in hand.
+
+"It seems," he began, "that this Malgamite scheme is not what we took
+it to be."
+
+Lord Ferriby looked surprised and slightly scandalized. Could it be
+possible for a fashionable charity to be anything but what it appeared
+to be? In his eyes, wandering from one face to the other, there lurked
+the question as to whether they had seen Roden and Von Holzen quit his
+door a minute earlier. But no reference was made to those two
+gentlemen, and Lord Ferriby, who, as a chairman of many boards, was a
+master of the art of conciliation and the decent closing of both eyes
+to unsightly facts, received Cornish's suggestion with a polite and
+avuncular pooh-pooh.
+
+"We must not," he said soothingly, "allow our judgment to be hastily
+affected by the ill-considered statements of the--er--newspapers. Such
+statements, my dear Anthony--and you, Major White--are, I may tell you,
+only what we, as the pioneers of a great movement, must be prepared to
+expect. I saw the article in the _Times_ to which you refer--indeed, I
+read it most carefully, as, in my capacity of chairman of
+this--eh--char--that is to say, company, I was called upon to do. And I
+formed the opinion that the mind of the writer was--eh--warped." Lord
+Ferriby smiled sadly, and gave a final wave of the hand, as if to
+indicate that the whole matter lay in a nutshell, and that nutshell
+under his lordship's heel. "Warped or not," answered Cornish, "the man
+says that we have formed ourselves into a company, which company is
+bound to make huge profits, and those profits are naturally assumed to
+find their way into our pockets."
+
+"My dear Anthony," replied the chairman, with a laugh which was almost
+a cackle, "the labourer is worthy of his hire."
+
+Which seems likely to become the _dernier cri_ of the overpaid
+throughout all the ages.
+
+"Even if we contradict the statement," pursued Cornish, with a sudden
+coldness in his manner, "the contradiction will probably fail to reach
+many of the readers of this article, and as matters at present stand,
+I do not see that we are in a position to contradict."
+
+"My dear Anthony," answered Lord Ferriby, turning over his papers with
+a preoccupied air, as if the question under discussion only called for
+a small share of his attention--"my dear Anthony, the money was
+subscribed for the amelioration of the lot of the malgamite workers. We
+have not only ameliorated their lot, but we have elevated them morally
+and physically. We have far exceeded our promises, and the subscribers,
+ who, after all, take a small interest in the matter, have every reason
+to be satisfied that their money has been applied to the purpose for
+which they intended it. They were kind enough to intrust us with the
+financial arrangements. The concern is a private one, and it is the
+business of no one--not even of the _Times_--to inquire into the method
+which we think well to adopt for the administration of the Malgamite
+Fund. If the subscribers had no confidence in us, they surely would not
+have given the management unreservedly into our hands." Lord Ferriby
+spread out the limbs in question with an easy laugh. Has not a greater
+than any of us said that a man "may smile, and smile, and be a
+villain"? A silence followed, which was almost, but not quite, broken
+by the major, who took his glass from his eye, examined it very
+carefully, as if wondering how it had been made, and, replacing it with
+a deep sigh, sat staring at the opposite wall.
+
+"Then you are not disposed to withdraw your name from the concern?"
+asked Cornish.
+
+"Most certainly not, my dear Anthony. What have the malgamiters done
+that I should, so to speak, abandon them at the first difficulty which
+has presented itself?"
+
+"And what about the profits?" inquired Cornish, bluntly.
+
+"Mr. Roden is our paid secretary. He understands the financial
+situation, which is rather a complicated one. We may, I think, leave
+such details to him. And if I may suggest it (I may perhaps rightly lay
+claim to a somewhat larger experience in charitable finances than
+either of you), I should recommend a strict reticence on this matter.
+We are not called upon to answer idle questions, I think. And
+if--well--if the labourer is found worthy of his hire ... buy yourself
+a new hat, my dear Anthony. Buy yourself a new hat."
+
+Cornish rose, and looked at his watch. "I wonder if Joan will give us a
+cup of tea," he said. "We might, at all events, go up and try."
+
+"Certainly--certainly. And I will follow when I have finished my work.
+And do not give the matter another thought--either of you--eh!"
+
+"He's been got at," said Major White to his companion as they walked
+upstairs together, as if Lord Ferriby were a jockey or some common
+person of that sort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+"Il est rare que la tete des rois soit faite a la mesure de leur
+couronne."
+
+
+"What I want is something to eat," Miss Marguerite Wade confided in an
+undertone to Tony Cornish, a few minutes later in Lady Ferriby's
+drawing-room. She said this with a little glance of amusement, as
+Cornish stood before her with two plates of biscuits, which certainly
+did not promise much sustenance.
+
+"Then," answered Cornish, "you have come to the wrong house."
+
+Marguerite kept him waiting while she arranged biscuits in her saucer.
+He set the plates aside, and returned to her in answer to her tacit
+order, conveyed by laying one hand on a vacant chair by her side.
+Marguerite was in the midst of that brief period of a woman's life
+wherein she dares to state quite clearly what she wants.
+
+"Why don't you marry Joan?" she asked, eating a biscuit with a fine
+young optimism, which almost implied that things sometimes taste as
+nice as they look.
+
+"Why don't you marry Major White?" retorted Tony; and Marguerite turned
+and looked at him gravely.
+
+"For a man," she said, "that wasn't so dusty. So few men have any eyes
+in their head, you know." And she thoughtfully finished the biscuits.
+"I think I'll go back to the bread-and-butter," she said. "It's the
+last time Lady Ferriby will ask me to stay to tea, so I may as well be
+hanged for--three pence as three farthings. And I think I will be more
+careful with you in the future. For a man, you are rather sharp." And
+she looked at him doubtfully.
+
+"When you attain my age," replied Tony, "you will have arrived at the
+conclusion that the whole world is sharper than one took it to be. It
+does not do to think that the world is blind. It is better not to care
+whether it sees or not."
+
+"Women cannot afford to do that," returned Marguerite, with the
+accumulated wisdom of nearly a score of years. "Oh, hang!" she added, a
+moment later, under her breath, as she perceived Joan and Major White
+coming towards them.
+
+"I have a letter for you," said Joan, "enclosed in one I received this
+morning from Mrs. Vansittart at The Hague. She is not coming to the
+Harberdashers' Assistants' Ball, and this is, I suppose, in answer to
+the card you sent her. She explains that she did not know your
+address." And Joan looked at him with a doubting glance for a moment.
+
+Cornish took the letter, but did not ask permission to open it. He held
+it in his hand, and asked Joan a question. "Did you see Saturday's
+Times?"
+
+"Yes, of course I did," she answered earnestly; "and of course, if it
+is true you will all wash your hands of the whole affair, I suppose. I
+was talking to Mr. Wade about it. He, however, placed both sides of the
+question before me in about ten words, and left me to take my
+choice--which I am incompetent to do."
+
+"Papa doesn't understand women," put in Marguerite.
+
+"Understands money, though," retorted Major White, looking at her in
+somewhat severe astonishment, as if he had hitherto been unaware that
+she could speak.
+
+Marguerite took the rebuff with demurely closed lips, a probable
+indication that the only retort she could think of was hardly fit for
+enunciation.
+
+Then Cornish drifted out of the conversation, and presently moved away
+to the window, where he took the opportunity of opening Mrs.
+Vansittart's letter. Mr. Wade, near at hand, was explaining
+good-naturedly to Lady Ferriby that, with the best will in the world,
+five per cent, and perfect safety are not to be obtained nowadays.
+
+"MON AMI" (wrote Mrs. Vansittart in French), "I take a daily promenade
+after coffee in the Oude Weg. I sit on the bench where you sat, and
+more often than not I see the sight that you saw. I am not a
+sentimental woman, but, after all, one has a heart, and this is a
+pitiful affair. Also, I have obtained from a reliable source the
+information that the new system of manufacture is more deadly than the
+old, which I have long suspected, and which, I believe, has passed
+through your mind as well. You and I went into this thing without _le
+bon motif_; but Providence is dealing out fresh hands, and you, at all
+events, hold cards that call for careful and bold playing. My friend,
+throw your Haberdashers over the wall and act without delay."
+
+
+"E. V."
+
+She enclosed a formal refusal of the invitation to the Haberdashers'
+Assistants' Ball.
+
+Major White was not a talkative man, and towards Joan in particular his
+attitude was one of silent wonder. In preference to talking to her, he
+preferred to stand a little way off and look at her. And if, at these
+moments, the keen observer could detect any glimmer of expression on
+his face, that glimmer seemed to express abject abasement before a
+creation that could produce anything so puzzling, so interesting, so
+absolutely beautiful--as Joan.
+
+Cornish, seeing White engaged in his favourite pastime, took him by the
+arm and led him to the window.
+
+"Read that," he said, "and then burn it."
+
+"Of course," Joan was saying to Marguerite, as he joined them, "there
+are, as your father says, two sides to the question. If papa and Tony
+and Major White withdraw their names and abandon the poor malgamiters
+now, there will be no help for the miserable wretches. They will all
+drift back to the cheaper and more poisonous way of making malgamite.
+And such a thing would be a blot upon our civilization--wouldn't it,
+Tony?"
+
+Marguerite nodded an airy acquiescence. She was watching Major
+White--that great strategist--tear up Mrs. Vansittart's letter and
+throw it into the fire, with a deliberate non-concealment which was
+perhaps superior to any subterfuge. The major joined the group.
+
+
+"That is the view that I take of it," answered Tony.
+
+"And what do you say?" asked Joan, turning upon the major.
+
+"I? Oh, nothing!" replied that soldier, with perfect truthfulness.
+
+"Then what are you going to do?" asked Joan, who was practical, and,
+like many practical people, rather given to hasty action.
+
+"We are going to stick to the malgamiters," replied Tony, quietly.
+
+"Through thick and thin?" inquired Marguerite, buttoning her glove.
+
+"Yes--through thick and thin."
+
+Both girls looked at Major White, who stolidly returned their gaze, and
+appeared as usual to have no remark to offer. He was saved, indeed,
+from all effort in that direction by the advent of Lord Ferriby, who
+entered the room with more than his usual importance. He carried an
+open letter in his hand, and seemed by his manner to demand the instant
+attention of the whole party. There are some men and a few women who
+live for the multitude, and are not content with the attention of one
+or two persons only. And surely these have their reward, for the
+attention of the multitude, however pleasant it may be while it lasts,
+is singularly short-lived, and there is nothing more pitiful to watch
+than the effort to catch it when it has wandered.
+
+"Eh--er," began his lordship, and everybody paused to listen. "I have
+here a letter from our clerk at the Malgamite office in Great
+George Street. It appears that there are a number of persons
+there--paper-makers, I understand--who insist upon seeing us, and
+refuse to leave the premises until they have done so."
+
+Lord Ferriby's manner indicated quite clearly his pity for these
+persons who had proved themselves capable of such a shocking breach of
+good manners.
+
+"One hardly knows what to do," he said, not meaning, of course, that
+his words should be taken _au pied de la lettre_. His hearers, he
+obviously felt assured, knew him better than to imagine that he was
+really at a loss. "It is difficult to deal with--er--persons of this
+description. What do you propose that we should do?" he inquired,
+turning, as if by instinct, to Cornish.
+
+"Go and see them," was the reply.
+
+"But, my dear Anthony, such a crisis should be dealt with by Mr. Roden,
+whom one may regard as our--er--financial adviser."
+
+"But as Roden is not here, we must do without his assistance. Perhaps
+Mr. Wade would consent to act as our financial adviser on this
+occasion," suggested Cornish.
+
+"I'll go with you," replied the banker, "and hear what they have to
+say, if you like. But of course I can take no part in anything in the
+nature of a controversy, and my name must not be mentioned."
+
+"Incognito," suggested Lord Ferriby, with a forced laugh.
+
+"Yes--incognito," returned the banker, gravely.
+
+The major attracted general attention to himself by murmuring something
+inaudible, which he was urged to repeat.
+
+"Doocid decent of Mr. Wade," he said, a second time.
+
+And that seemed to settle the matter, for they all moved towards the
+door.
+
+"Leave the carriage for me," cried Marguerite over the banisters, as
+her father descended the stairs. "Seems to me," she added to Joan in an
+undertone, "that the Malgamite scheme is up a gum-tree."
+
+At the little office of the Malgamite Fund the directors of that
+charity found four gentlemen seated upon the chairs usually grouped
+round the table where the ball committee or the bazaar sub-committees
+held their sittings. One, who appeared to be what Lord Ferriby
+afterwards described, more in sorrow than in anger, as the ringleader,
+was a red-haired, brown-bearded Scotchman, with square shoulders and
+his head set thereon in a manner indicative of advanced radical
+opinions. The second in authority was a mild-mannered man with a pale
+face and a drooping sparse moustache. He had a gentle eye, and lips for
+ever parting in a mildly argumentative manner. The other two
+paper-makers appeared to be foreigners. "Ah'm thinking----" began the
+mild man in a long drawl; but he was promptly overpowered by his
+fellow-countryman, who nodded curtly to Mr. Wade, and said--"Lord
+Ferriby?"
+
+"No," answered the banker, calmly.
+
+"That is my name," said the chairman of the Malgamite Fund, with his
+finger in his watch-chain.
+
+The russet gentleman looked at him with a fierce blue eye.
+
+"Then, sir," he said, "we'll come to business. For it's on business
+that we've come. My friend Mr. MacHewlett, is, like myself, in charge
+of one of the biggest mills in the country; here's Mossier Delmont of
+the great mill at Clermont-Ferrand, and Mr. Meyer from Germany. My own
+name's a plain one--like myself--but an honest one; it's John Thompson."
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed, and Major White looked at John Thompson with a
+placid interest, as if he felt glad of this opportunity of meeting one
+of the Thompson family.
+
+"And we've come to ask you to be so good as to explain your position as
+regards malgamite. What are ye, anyway?"
+
+"My dear sir," began Lord Ferriby, with one hand upraised in mild
+expostulation, "let us be a little more conciliatory in our manner. We
+are, I am sure (I speak for myself and my fellow-directors, whom you
+see before you), most desirous of avoiding any unpleasantness, and we
+are ready to give you all the information in our power, when"--he
+paused, and waved a graceful hand--"when you have proved your right to
+demand such information."
+
+"Our right is that of representatives of a great trade. We four men,
+that have been deputed to see you on the matter, have at our backs no
+less than eight thousand employees--honest, hard-workin' men, whose
+bread you are taking out of their mouths. We are not afraid of the
+ordinary vicissitudes of commerce. If ye had quietly worked this
+monopoly in fair competition, we should have known how to meet ye. But
+ye come before the world as philanthropists, and ye work a great
+monopoly under the guise of doin' a good work. It was a dirty thing to
+do."
+
+Lord Ferriby shrugged his shoulders. "My dear sir," he said, "you fail
+to grasp the situation. We have given our time and attention to the
+grievances of these poor men, whose lot it has been our earnest
+endeavour to ameliorate. You are speaking, my dear sir, to men who
+represent, not eight thousand employes, but who represent something
+greater than they, namely, charity."
+
+"Ah'm thinking!" began Mr. MacHewlett, plaintively, and the very
+richness of his accents secured a breathless attention. "Damn charity,"
+he concluded, abruptly.
+
+And Major White looked upon him in solid approval, as upon a
+plain-spoken man after his own heart.
+
+"And we," said Mr. Thompson, "represent commerce, which was in the
+world before charity, and will be there after it, if charity is going
+to be handled by such as you."
+
+There was, it appeared, no possibility of pacifying these irate
+paper-makers, whose plainness of speech was positively painful to ears
+so polite as those of Lord Ferriby. A Scotchman, hard hit in his
+tenderest spot, namely, the pocket, is not a person to mince words, and
+Lord Ferriby was for the moment silenced by the stormy attack of Mr.
+Thompson, and the sly, plaintive hits of his companion. But the
+chairman of the Malgamite Fund would not give way, and only repeated
+his assurances of a desire to conciliate, which desire took the form
+only of words, and must, therefore, have been doubly annoying to angry
+men. To him who wants war there is nothing more insulting than feeble
+offers of peace. Major White expressed his readiness to fight Messrs.
+Thompson and MacHewlett at one and the same time on the landing, but
+this suggestion was not well received.
+
+Upon two of the listeners no word was lost, and Mr. Wade and Cornish
+knew that the paper-makers had right upon their side.
+
+Quite suddenly Mr. Thompson's manner changed, and he glanced towards
+the door to see that it was closed.
+
+"Then it's a matter of paying," he said to his companions. Turning
+towards Lord Ferriby, he spoke in a voice that sounded more
+contemptuous than angry. "We're plain business men," he said. "What's
+your price--you and these other gentlemen?"
+
+"I have no price," answered Cornish, meeting the angry blue eyes and
+speaking for the first time.
+
+"And mine is too high--for plain business men," added Major White, with
+a slow smile.
+
+"Seeing that you're a lord," said Thompson, addressing the chairman
+again, "I suppose it's a matter of thousands. Name your figure, and be
+done with it."
+
+Lord Ferriby took the insult in quite a different spirit to that
+displayed by his two co-directors. He was pale with anger, and
+spluttered rather incoherently. Then he took up his hat and stick and
+walked with much dignity to the door.
+
+He was followed down the stairs by the paper-makers, Mr. Thompson
+making use of language that was decidedly bespattered with "winged
+words," while Mr. MacHewlett detailed his own thoughts in a plaintive
+monotone. Lord Ferriby got rather hastily into a hansom and drove away.
+
+"There is nothing for it," said Mr. Wade to Cornish in the gay little
+office above the Ladies' Tea Association--"there is nothing for it
+but to run Roden's Corner yourself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+DANGER.
+
+"The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self."
+
+
+Percy Roden was possessed of that love of horses which, like sentiment,
+crops up in strange places. He had never been able to indulge this
+taste beyond the doubtful capacities of the livery-stable. He found,
+however, that at the Hague he could hire a good saddle-horse, which
+discovery was made with suspicious haste after learning the fact that
+Mrs. Vansittart occasionally indulged in the exercise that his soul
+loved.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart said that she rode because one has to take exercise,
+and riding is the laziest method of fulfilling one's obligations in
+this respect.
+
+"I don't like horsy women," she said; "and I cannot understand how my
+sex has been foolish enough to believe that any woman looks her best,
+or, indeed, anything but her worst, in the saddle."
+
+There is a period in the lives of most men when they are desirous of
+extending their knowledge of the surrounding country on horseback, on a
+bicycle, on foot, or even on their hands and knees, if such journeys
+might be accomplished in the company of a certain person. Percy Roden
+was at this period, and he soon discovered that there are tulip farms
+in the neighbourhood of The Hague. A tulip farm may serve its purpose
+as well as ever did a ruin or a waterfall in more picturesque countries
+than Holland; for, indeed, during the last weeks in April and the early
+half of May, these fields of waving yellow, pink, and red are worth
+traveling many miles to see. As for Mrs. Vansittart, it may be said of
+her, as of the rest of her sex under similar circumstances, that it
+suited her purpose to say that she would like nothing better than to
+visit the tulip farms.
+
+Roden's suggestion included breakfast at the Villa des Dunes, whither
+Mrs. Vansittart drove in her habit, while her saddle-horse was to
+follow later. Dorothy welcomed her readily enough, with, however, a
+reserve at the back of her grey eyes. A woman is, it appears, ready to
+forgive much if love may be held out as an excuse, but Dorothy did not
+believe that Mrs. Vansittart had any love for Percy; indeed, she
+shrewdly suspected that all that part of this woman's life belonged to
+the past, and would remain there until the end of her existence. There
+are few things more astonishing to the close observer of human nature
+than the accuracy and rapidity with which one woman will sum up
+another.
+
+"You are not in your habit," said Mrs. Vansittart, seating herself at
+the breakfast-table. "You are not to be of the party?"
+
+"No," answered Dorothy. "I have never had the opportunity or the
+inclination to ride."
+
+"Ah, I know," laughed the elder woman. "Horses are old-fashioned, and
+only dowagers drive in a barouche to-day. I suppose you ride a bicycle,
+or would do so in any country but Holland, where the roads make that
+craze a madness. I must be content with my old-fashioned horse. If, in
+moving with the times, one's movements are apt to be awkward, it is
+better to be left behind, is it not, Mr. Roden?"
+
+Roden's glance expressed what he did not care to say in the presence of
+a third person. When a woman, whose every movement is graceful, speaks
+of awkwardness, she assuredly knows her ground.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, moreover, showed clearly enough that she was on the
+safe side of forty by quite a number of years when it came to settling
+herself in the saddle and sitting her fresh young horse.
+
+"Which way?" she inquired when they reached the canal.
+
+"Not that way, at all events," answered Roden, for his companion had
+turned her horse's head toward the malgamite works.
+
+He spoke with a laugh that was not pleasant to the ears, and a shadow
+passed through Mrs. Vansittart's dark eyes. She glanced across the
+yellow sand hills, where the works were effectually concealed by the
+rise and fall of the wind-swept land, from whence came no sign of human
+life, and only at times, when the north wind blew, a faint and not
+unpleasant odour like the smell of sealing-wax. For all that the world
+knew of the malgamite workers, they might have been a colony of lepers.
+"You speak," said Mrs. Vansittart, "as if you were a failure instead of
+a brilliant success. I think"--she paused for a moment, as if the
+thought were a real one and not a mere conversational convenience, as
+are the thoughts of most people--"that the cream of social life
+consists of the cheery failures."
+
+"I have no faith in my own luck," answered Percy Roden, gloomily, whose
+world was a narrow one, consisting as it did of himself and his
+bank-book. Moreover, most men draw aside readily enough the curtain
+that should hide the world in which they live, whereas women take their
+stand before their curtain and talk, and talk--of other things.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had never for a moment been mistaken in her estimate of
+her companion, of--as he considered himself--her lover. She had
+absolutely nothing in common with him. She was a physically lazy, but a
+mentally active woman, whose thoughts ran to abstract matters so
+persistently that they brought her to the verge of abstraction itself.
+
+Percy Roden, on the other hand, would, with better health, have been an
+athlete. In his youth he had overtaxed his strength on the football
+field. When he took up a newspaper now he read the money column first
+and the sporting items next.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart glanced at neither of these, and as often as not
+contented herself with the advertisements of new books, passing idly
+over the news of the world with a heedless eye. She, at all events,
+avoided the mistake, common to men and women of a journalistic
+generation, of allowing themselves to be vastly perturbed over events
+in far countries, which can in no way affect their lives.
+
+Roden, on the other hand, took a certain broad interest in the progress
+of the world, but only watched the daily procession of events with the
+discriminating eye of a business man. He kept his eye, in a word, on
+the main chance, as on a small golden thread woven in the grey tissue
+of the world's history.
+
+It was easy enough to make him talk of himself and of the Malgamite
+scheme.
+
+"And you must admit that you are a success, you know," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "I see your quiet grey carts, full of little square boxes,
+passing up Park Straat to the railway station in a procession every
+day."
+
+"Yes," admitted Roden. "We are doing a large business."
+
+He was willing to allow Mrs. Vansittart to suppose that he was a rich
+man, for he was shrewd enough to know that the affections, like all
+else in this world, are purchasable.
+
+"And there is no reason," suggested Mrs. Vansittart, "why you should
+not go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
+malgamite is an absolute secret."
+
+"Absolute."
+
+"And the process is preserved in your memory only?" asked the lady,
+with a little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity
+of wiser men than Percy Roden.
+
+"Not in my memory," he answered. "It is very long and technical, and I
+have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
+better one than mine."
+
+"And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered,
+or something dramatic of that sort--what would happen?"
+
+"Ah," answered Roden, "we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew,
+in our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys
+of the safe."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed. "It sounds like a romance," she said. She
+pulled up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. "Look at
+that line of sea," she said, "on the horizon. What a wonderful blue."
+
+"It is always dark like that with an east wind," replied Roden,
+practically. "We like to see it dark."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
+half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
+
+"Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,"
+he explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
+
+"You think of everything," she said, without enthusiasm.
+
+"No; I only think of you," he answered, with a little laugh, which
+indeed was his method of making love.
+
+For fear of Mrs. Vansittart laughing at him, he laughed at love--a very
+common form of cowardice. She smiled and said nothing, thus tacitly
+allowing him, as she had allowed him before, to assume that she was not
+displeased. She knew that in love he was the incarnation of caution,
+and would only venture so far as she encouraged him to come. She had
+him, in a word, thoroughly in hand.
+
+They rode on, talking of other things; and Roden, having sped his
+shaft, seemed relieved in mind, and had plenty to say--about himself. A
+man's interests are himself, and malgamite naturally formed a large
+part of Roden's conversation. Mrs. Vansittart encouraged him with a
+singular persistency to talk of this interesting product.
+
+"It is wonderful," she said--"quite wonderful."
+
+"Well, hardly that," he answered slowly, as if there were something
+more to be said, which he did not say.
+
+"And I do not give so much credit to Herr von Holzen as you suppose,"
+added Mrs. Vansittart, carelessly. "Some day you will have to fulfil
+your promise of taking me over the works."
+
+Roden did not answer. He was perhaps wondering when he had made the
+promise to which his companion referred.
+
+"Shall we go home that way?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, whose experience of
+the world had taught her that deliberate and steady daring in social
+matters usually, succeeds. "We might have a splendid gallop along the
+sands at low tide, and then ride up quietly through the dunes. I take a
+certain interest in--well--in your affairs, and you have never even
+allowed me to look at the outside of the malgamite works."
+
+"Should like to know the extent of your interest," muttered Roden, with
+his awkward laugh.
+
+"I dare say you would," replied Mrs. Vansittart, coolly. "But that is
+not the question. Here we are at the cross-roads. Shall we go home by
+the sands and the dunes?"
+
+"If you like," answered Roden, not too graciously.
+
+According to his lights, he was honestly in love with Mrs. Vansittart,
+but Percy Roden's lights were not brilliant, and his love was not a
+very high form of that little-known passion. It lacked, for instance,
+unselfishness, and love that lacks unselfishness is, at its best, a
+sorry business. He was afraid of ridicule. His vanity would not allow
+him to risk a rebuff. His was that faintness of heart which is all too
+common, and owes its ignoble existence to a sullen vanity. He wanted to
+be sure that Mrs. Vansittart loved him before he betrayed more than a
+half-contemptuous admiration for her. Who knows that he was not dimly
+aware of his own inferiority, and thus feared to venture?
+
+The tide was low, as Mrs. Vansittart had foreseen, and they galloped
+along the hard, flat sands towards Scheveningen, where a few clumsy
+fishing-boats lay stranded. Far out at sea, others plied their trade,
+tacking to and fro over the banks, where the fish congregate.
+The sky was clear, and the deep-coloured sea flashed here and there
+beneath the sun. Objects near and far stood out in the clear air with a
+startling distinctness. It was a fresh May morning, when it is good to
+be alive, and better to be young.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rode a few yards ahead of her companion, with a set
+face and deep calculating eyes. When they came within sight of the tall
+chimney of the pumping-station, it was she who led the way across the
+dunes. "Now," she suddenly inquired, pulling up, and turning in her
+saddle, "where are your works? It seems that one can never discover
+them."
+
+
+Roden passed her and took the lead. "I will take you there, since you
+are so anxious to go--if you will tell me why you wish to see the
+works," he said.
+
+"I should like to know," she answered, with averted eyes and a slow
+deliberation, "where and how you spend so much of your time."
+
+"I believe you are jealous of the malgamite works," he said, with his
+curt laugh.
+
+"Perhaps I am," she admitted, without meeting his glance; and Roden
+rode ahead, with a gleam of satisfaction in his heavy eyes.
+
+So Mrs. Vansittart found herself within the gates of the malgamite
+works, riding quietly on the silent sand, at the heels of Roden's
+horse.
+
+The workmen's dinner-bell had rung as they approached, and now the
+factories were deserted, while within the cottages the midday meal
+occupied the full attention of the voluntary exiles. For the directors
+had found it necessary, in the interests of all concerned, to bind the
+workers by solemn contract never to leave the precincts of the works
+without permission.
+
+Roden did not speak, but led the way across an open space now filled
+with carts, which were to be loaded during the day in readiness for an
+early despatch on the following morning. Mrs. Vansittart followed
+without asking questions. She was prepared to content herself with a
+very cursory visit.
+
+They had not progressed thirty yards from the entrance gate, which
+Roden had opened with a key attached to his watch-chain, when the door
+of one of the cottages moved, and Von Holzen appeared. He was hatless,
+and came out into the sunshine rather hurriedly.
+
+"Ah, madame," he said, "you honour us beyond our merits." And he stood,
+smiling gravely, in front of Mrs. Vansittart's horse.
+
+She surreptitiously touched the animal with her heel, but Von Holzen
+checked its movement by laying his hand on the bridle.
+
+"Alas!" he said, "it happens to be our mixing day, and the factories
+are hermetically closed while the process goes forward. Any other day,
+madame, that your fancy brings you over the dunes, I should be
+delighted--but not to-day. I tell you frankly there is danger. You
+surely would not run into it." He looked up at her with his searching
+gaze.
+
+"Ah! you think it is easy to frighten me, Herr von Holzen," she cried,
+with a little laugh.
+
+"No; but I would not for the world that you should unwittingly run any
+risks in this place."
+
+As he spoke, he led the horse quietly to the gate, and Mrs. Vansittart,
+seeing her helplessness, submitted with a good grace.
+
+Roden made no comment, and followed, not ill pleased, perhaps, at this
+simple solution of his difficulty.
+
+Von Holzen did not refer to the incident until late in the evening,
+when Roden was leaving the works.
+
+"This is too serious a time," he said, "to let women, or vanity,
+interfere in our plans. You know that the deaths are on the increase.
+Anything in the nature of an inquiry at this time would mean ruin,
+and--perhaps worse. Be careful of that woman. I sometimes think that
+she is fooling you.--But I think," he added to himself, when the gate
+was closed behind Roden, "that I can fool her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+PLAIN SPEAKING.
+
+"A tous maux, il y a deux remedes--le temps et le silence."
+
+
+"They call me Uncle Ben--comprenny?" one man explained very slowly to
+another for the sixth time across a small iron table set out upon the
+pavement.
+
+They were seated in front of the humble Cafe de l'Europe, which lies
+concealed in an alley that runs between the Keize Straat and the
+lighthouse of Scheveningen. It was quite dark and a lonely reveler at
+the next table seemed to be asleep. The economical proprietor of the
+Cafe de l'Europe had conceived the idea of constructing a long-shaped
+lantern, not unlike the arm of a railway signal, which should at once
+bear the insignia of his house and afford light to his out-door custom.
+But the idea, like many of the higher flights of the human imagination,
+had only left the public in the dark.
+
+"Yes," continued the unchallenged speaker, in a voice which may be
+heard issuing from the door of any tavern in England on almost any
+evening of the week--the typical voice of the tavern-talker--"yes,
+they've always called me Uncle Ben. Seems as if they're sort o' fond of
+me. Me has seen many hundreds of 'em come and go. But nothing like
+this. Lord save us!"
+
+His hand fell heavily on the iron table, and he looked round him in
+semi-intoxicated stupefaction. He was in a confidential humour, and
+when a man is in this humour, drunk or sober, he is in a parlous state.
+It was certainly rather unfortunate that Uncle Ben should have in this
+expansive moment no more sympathetic companion than an ancient,
+intoxicated Frenchman, who spoke no word of English.
+
+"What I want to know, Frenchy," continued the Englishman, in a thick,
+aggrieved voice, "is how long you've been at this trade, and how much
+you know about it--you and the other Frenchy. But there's none of us
+speaks the other's lingo. It is a regular Tower of Babble we are!" And
+Uncle Ben added to his mental confusion a further alcoholic fog.
+"That's why I showed yer the way out of the works over the iron fence
+by the empty casks, and brought yer by the beach to this 'ere house of
+entertainment, and stood yer a bottle of brandy between two of
+us--which is handsome, not bein' my own money, seeing as how the others
+deputed me to do it--me knowing a bit of French, comprenny?" Benjamin,
+like most of his countrymen, considering that if one speaks English in
+a loud, clear voice, and adds "comprenny" rather severely, as
+indicating the intention of standing no nonsense, the previous remarks
+will translate themselves miraculously in the hearer's mind. "You
+comprenny--eh? Yes. Oui." "Oui," replied the Frenchman, holding out his
+glass; and Uncle Ben's was that pride which goes with a gift of
+tongues.
+
+He struck a match to light his pipe--one of the wooden, sulphur-headed
+matches supplied by the _cafe_--and the guest at the next table turned
+in his chair. The match flared up and showed two faces, which he
+studied keenly. Both faces were alike unwashed and deeply furrowed.
+White, straggling beards and whiskers accentuated the redness of the
+eyelids, the dull yellow of the skin. They were hopeless and debased
+faces, with that disquieting resemblance which is perceptible in the
+faces of men of dissimilar features and no kinship, who have for a
+number of years followed a common calling, or suffered a common pain.
+
+These two men were both half blind; they had equally unsteady hands.
+The clothing of both alike, and even their breath, was scented by a not
+unpleasant odour of sealing-wax.
+
+It was quite obvious that not only were they at present half
+intoxicated, but in their soberest moments they could hardly be of a
+high intelligence.
+
+The reveller at the next table, who happened to be Tony Cornish, now
+drew his chair nearer.
+
+"Englishman?" he inquired.
+
+"That's me," answered Uncle Ben, with commendable pride, "from the top
+of my head to me boots. Not that I've anything to say against
+foreigners."
+
+"Nor I; but it's pleasant to meet a countryman in a foreign land."
+Cornish deliberately brought his chair forward. "Your bottle is empty,"
+he added; "I'll order another. Friend's a Frenchman, eh?"
+
+"That he is--and doesn't understand his own language either," answered
+Uncle Ben, in a voice indicating that that lack of comprehension rather
+intensified his friend's Frenchness than otherwise.
+
+The proprietor of the Cafe de l'Europe now came out in answer to
+Cornish's rap on the iron table, and presently brought a small bottle
+of brandy.
+
+"Yes," said Cornish, pouring out the spirit, which his companions drank
+in its undiluted state from small tumblers--"yes, I'm glad to meet an
+Englishman. I suppose you are in the works--the Malgamite?"
+
+"I am. And what do you know about malgamite, mister?"
+
+"Well, not much, I am glad to say."
+
+"There is precious few that knows anything," said the man, darkly, and
+his eye for a moment sobered into cunning.
+
+"I have heard that it is a very dangerous trade, and if you want to get
+out of it I'm connected with an association in London to provide
+situations for elderly men who are no longer up to their work," said
+Cornish, carelessly.
+
+"Thank ye, mister; not for me. I'm making my five-pound note a week, I
+am, and each cove that dies off makes the survivors one richer, so to
+speak--survival of the fittest, they call it. So we don't talk much, and
+just pockets the pay."
+
+"Ah, that is the arrangement, is it?" said Cornish, indifferently.
+"Yes. We've got a clever financier, as they call it, I can tell yer.
+We're a good-goin' concern, we are. Some of us are goin' pretty quick,
+too."
+
+"Are there many deaths, then?"
+
+"Ah! there you're asking a question," returned the man, who came of a
+class which has no false shame in refusing a reply.
+
+Cornish looked at the man beneath the dim light of the unsuccessful
+lamp--a piteous specimen of humanity, depraved, besotted, without
+outward sign of a redeeming virtue, although a certain courage must
+have been there--this and such as this stood between him and
+Dorothy Roden. Uncle Ben had known starvation at one time, for
+starvation writes certain lines which even turtle soup may never wipe
+out--lines which any may read and none may forget. Tony Cornish had
+seen them before--on the face of an old dandy coming down the steps of
+a St. James's Street club. The malgamiter had likewise known drink long
+and intimately, and it is no exaggeration to say that he had stood
+cheek by jowl with death nearly all his life.
+
+Such a man was plainly not to be drawn away from five pounds a week.
+
+Cornish turned to the Frenchman--a little, cunning, bullet-headed
+Lyonnais, who would not speak of his craft at all, though he expressed
+every desire to be agreeable to monsieur.
+
+"When one is _en fete_," he cried, "it is good to drink one's glass or
+two and think no more of work."
+
+"I knew one or two of your men once," said Cornish, returning to the
+genial Uncle Ben. "William Martins, I remember, was a decent fellow,
+and had seen a bit of the world. I will come to the works and look him
+up some day."
+
+"You can look him up, mister, but you won't find him."
+
+"Ah, has he gone home?"
+
+"He's gone to his long home, that's where he's gone."
+
+"And his brother, Tom Martins, both London men, like myself?" inquired
+Cornish, without asking that question which Uncle Ben considered such
+exceedingly bad form.
+
+"Tom's dead, too."
+
+"And there were two Americans, I recollect--I came across from Harwich
+in the same boat with them--Hewlish they were called."
+
+"Hewlishes has stepped round the corner, too," admitted Uncle Ben. "Oh
+yes; there's been changes in the works, there's no doubt. And there's
+only one sort o' change in the malgamite trade. Come on, Frenchy,
+time's up."
+
+The men stood up and bade Cornish good night, each after his own
+manner, and went away steadily enough. It was only their heads that
+were intoxicated, and perhaps the brandy of the Cafe de l'Europe had
+nothing to do with this.
+
+Cornish followed them, and, in the Keize Straat, he called a cab,
+telling the man to drive to the house at the corner of Oranje Straat
+and Park Straat, occupied by Mrs. Vansittart. That lady, the servant
+said, in reply to his careful inquiry, was at home and alone, and,
+moreover, did not expect visitors. The man was not at all sure that
+madame would receive.
+
+"I will try," said Cornish, writing two words in German on the corner
+of his visiting-card. "You see," he continued, noticing a well-trained
+glance, "that I am not dressed, so if other visitors arrive, I would
+rather not be discovered in madame's salon, you understand?"
+
+Mrs. Vansittart shook hands with Cornish in silence, her quick eyes
+noted the change in him which the shrewd butler had noticed in the
+entrance-hall. The Cornish of a year earlier would have gone back to
+the hotel to dress.
+
+"I was just going out to the Witte society concert," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "I thought the open air and the wood would be pleasant this
+evening. Shall we go or shall we remain?" She stood with her hand on
+the bell looking at him.
+
+"Let us remain here," he answered.
+
+She rang the bell and countermanded the carriage. Then she sat slowly
+down, moving as under a sort of oppression, as if she foresaw what the
+next few minutes contained, and felt herself on the threshold of one of
+the surprises that Fate springs upon us at odd times, tearing aside the
+veils behind which human hearts have slept through many years. For
+indifference is not the death, but only the sleep of the heart.
+
+"You have just arrived?"
+
+"No; I have been here a week."
+
+"At The Hague?"
+
+"No," answered Cornish, with a grave smile; "at a little inn in
+Scheveningen, where no questions are asked."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart nodded her head slowly. "Then, _mon ami_," she said,
+"the time has come for plain speaking?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"It is always the woman who wants to get to the plain speaking," she
+said, with a smile, "and who speaks the plainest when one gets there.
+You men are afraid of so many words; you think them, but you dare not
+make use of them. And how are women to know that you are thinking
+them?" She spoke with a sort of tolerant bitterness, as if all these
+questions no longer interested her personally. She sat forward, with
+one hand on the arm of her chair. "Come," she said, with a little laugh
+that shook and trembled on the brink of a whole sea of unshed tears, "I
+will speak the first word. When my husband died, my heart broke--and
+it was Otto von Holzen who killed him." Her eyes flashed suddenly, and
+she threw herself back in the chair. Her hands were trembling.
+
+Cornish made a quick gesture of the hand--a trick he had learnt
+somewhere on the Continent, more eloquent than a hundred words--which
+told of his sympathy and his comprehension of all that she had left
+unsaid. For truly she had told him her whole history in a dozen words.
+
+"I have followed him and watched him ever since," she went on at
+length, in a quiet voice; "but a woman is so helpless. I suppose if any
+of us were watched and followed as he has been our lives would appear a
+strange mixture of a little good and much bad, mixed with a mass of
+neutral idleness. But surely his life is worse than the rest--not that
+it matters. Whatever his life had been, if he had been a living saint,
+Tony, he would have had to pay--for what he has done to me."
+
+She looked steadily into the keen face that was watching hers. She was
+not in the least melodramatic, and what was stranger, perhaps, she was
+not ashamed. According to her lights, she was a good woman, who went to
+church regularly, and did a little conventional good with her
+superfluous wealth. She obeyed the unwritten laws of society, and
+busied herself little in her neighbours' affairs. She was kind to her
+servants, and did not hate her neighbours more than is necessary in a
+crowded world. She led a blameless, unoccupied, and apparently
+purposeless life. And now she quietly told Tony Cornish that her life
+was not purposeless, but had for its aim the desire of an eye for an
+eye and a life for a life.
+
+"You remember my husband," continued Mrs. Vansittart, after a pause.
+"He was always absorbed in his researches. He made a great discovery,
+and confided in Otto von Holzen, who thought that he could make a
+fortune out of it. But Von Holzen cheated and was caught. There was a
+great trial, and Von Holzen succeeded in incriminating my husband, who
+was innocent, instead of himself. The company, of course, failed, which
+meant ruin and dishonour. In a fit of despair my husband shot himself.
+And afterwards it transpired that by shooting himself at that time he
+saved my money. One cannot take proceedings against a dead man, it
+appears. So I was left a rich woman, after all, and my husband had
+frustrated Otto von Holzen. The world did not believe that my husband
+had done it on purpose; but I knew better. It is one of those beliefs
+that one keeps to one's self, and is indifferent whether the world
+believes or not. So there remain but two things for me to do--the one
+is to enjoy the money, and to let my husband see that I spend it as he
+would have wished me to spend it--upon myself; the other is to make
+Otto von Holzen pay--when the time comes. Who knows? the Malgamite is
+perhaps the time; you are perhaps the man." She gave her disquieting
+little laugh again, and sat looking at him.
+
+"I understand," he said at length. "Before, I was puzzled. There seemed
+no reason why you should take any interest in the scheme."
+
+"My interest in the Malgamite scheme narrows down to an interest in one
+person," answered Mrs. Vansittart, "which is what really happens to all
+human interests, my friend."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+A COMPLICATION.
+
+"La plus grande punition infligee a l'homme, c'est faire souffrir ce
+qu'il aime, en voulant frapper ce qu'il hait."
+
+
+Cornish had, as he told Mrs. Vansittart, been living a week at
+Scheveningen in one of the quiet little inns in the fishing-town, where
+a couple of apples are displayed before lace curtains in the window of
+the restaurant as a modest promise of entertainment within. Knowing no
+Dutch, he was saved the necessity of satisfying the curiosity of a
+garrulous landlady, who, after many futile questions which he
+understood perfectly, came to the conclusion that Cornish was in
+hiding, and might at any moment fall into the hands of the police.
+
+There are, it appears, few human actions that attract more curiosity
+for a short time than the act of colonization. But no change is in the
+long run so apathetically accepted as the presence of a colony of
+aliens. Cornish soon learnt that the malgamite works were already
+accepted at Scheveningen as a fact of small local importance. One or
+two fish-sellers took their wares there instead of going direct to The
+Hague. A few of the malgamite workers were seen at times, when they
+could get leave, on the Digue, or outside the smaller _cafes_.
+Inoffensive, stricken men these appeared to be, and the big-limbed,
+hardy fishermen looked on them with mingled contempt and pity. No one
+knew what the works were, and no one cared. Some thought that fireworks
+were manufactured within the high fence; others imagined it to be a
+gunpowder factory. All were content with the knowledge that the
+establishment belonged to an English company employing no outside
+labour.
+
+Cornish spent his days unobtrusively walking on the dunes or writing
+letters in his modest rooms. His evenings he usually passed at the Cafe
+de l'Europe, where an occasional truant malgamite worker would indulge
+in a mild carouse. From these grim revelers Cornish elicited a good
+deal of information. He was not actually, as his landlady suspected, in
+hiding, but desired to withhold as long as possible from Von Holzen and
+Roden the fact that he was in Holland. None of the malgamite workers
+recognized him; indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across
+to The Hague, and he did not care to ask too many questions. At length,
+as we have seen, he arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes
+had been too deeply laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a
+preliminary to further action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+The following morning he happened to take his walk within sight of the
+Villa des Dunes, although far enough away to avoid risk of recognition,
+and saw Percy Roden leave the house shortly after nine to proceed
+towards the works. Then Tony Cornish lighted a cigarette, and sat down
+to wait. He knew that Dorothy usually walked to The Hague before the
+heat of the day to do her shopping there and household business. He had
+not long to wait. Dorothy quitted the little house half an hour after
+her brother. But she did not go towards The Hague, turning to the right
+instead, across the open dunes towards the sea. It was a cool morning
+after many hot days, and a fresh, invigorating breeze swept over the
+sand hills from the sea. It was to be presumed that Dorothy, having
+leisure, was going to the edge of the sea for a breath of the brisk air
+there.
+
+Cornish rose and followed her. He was essentially a practical
+man--among the leaders of a practical generation. The day, moreover,
+was conducive to practical thoughts and not to dreams, for it was grey
+and yet of a light air which came bowling in from a grey sea whose
+shores have assuredly been trodden by the most energetic of the races
+of the world. For all around the North Sea and on its bosom have risen
+races of men to conquer the universe again and again.
+
+Cornish had come with the intention of seeing Dorothy and speaking with
+her. He had quite clearly in his mind what he intended to say to her.
+It is not claimed for Tony Cornish that he had a great mind, and that
+this was now made up. But his thoughts, like all else about him, were
+neat and compact, wherein he had the advantage of cleverer men, who
+blundered along under the burden of vast ideas, which they could not
+put into portable shape, and over which they constantly stumbled.
+
+He followed Dorothy, who walked briskly over the sand hills, upright,
+trim, and strong. She carried a stick, which she planted firmly enough
+in the sand as she walked. As he approached, he could see her lifting
+her head to look for the sea; for the highest hills are on the shore
+here, and stand in the form of a great barrier between the waves and
+the low-lying plains. She swung along at the pace which Mrs. Vansittart
+had envied her, without exertion, with that ease which only comes from
+perfect proportions and strength.
+
+Cornish was quite close to her before she heard his step, and turned
+sharply. She recognized him at once, and he saw the colour slowly rise
+to her face. She gave no cry of surprise, however, was in no foolish
+feminine flutter, but came towards him quietly.
+
+"I did not know you were in Holland," she said.
+
+He shook hands without answering. All that he had prepared in his mind
+had suddenly vanished, leaving not a blank, but a hundred other things
+which he had not intended to say, and which now, at the sight of her
+face, seemed inevitable.
+
+"Yes," he said, looking into her steady grey eyes, "I am in
+Holland--because I cannot stay away--because I cannot live without you.
+I have pretended to myself and to everybody else that I come to The
+Hague because of the Malgamite; but it is not that. It is because you
+are here. Wherever you are I must be; wherever you go I must follow
+you. The world is not big enough for you to get away from me. It is so
+big that I feel I must always be near you--for fear something should
+happen to you--to watch over you and take care of you. You know what my
+life has been...."
+
+She turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the
+head. For a woman may read a man's life in his face--in the twinkling
+of an eye--as in an open book.
+
+"All the world knows that...." he continued, with a sceptical laugh.
+"Is it not written ... in the society papers? But it has always been
+aboveboard--and harmless enough...."
+
+Dorothy smiled as she looked out across the grey sea. He was, it
+appeared, telling her nothing that she did not know. For she was wise
+and shrewd--of that pure leaven of womankind which leaveneth all the
+rest. And she knew that a man must not be judged by his life--not even
+by outward appearance, upon which the world pins so much faith--but by
+that occasional glimpse of the soul of him, which may live on, pure
+through all impurity, or may be foul beneath the whitest covering.
+
+"Of course," he continued, "I have wasted my time horribly--I have
+never done any good in the world. But--great is the extenuating
+circumstance! I never knew what life was until I saw it ... in your
+eyes."
+
+Still she stood with her back half turned towards him, looking out
+across the sea. The sun had mastered the clouds and all the surface of
+the water glittered. A few boats on the horizon seemed to dream and
+sleep there. Beneath the dunes, the sand stretched away north and south
+in an unbroken plain. The wind whispered through the waving grass, and,
+far across the sands, the sea sang its eternal song. Dorothy and
+Cornish seemed to be alone in this world of sea and sand. So far as the
+eye could see, there were no signs of human life but the boats dreaming
+on the horizon.
+
+"Are you quite sure?" said Dorothy, without turning her head.
+
+"Of what...?"
+
+"Of what you say."
+
+"Yes; I am quite sure."
+
+"Because," she said, with a little laugh that suddenly opened the gates
+of Paradise and bade one more poor human-being enter in--"because it is
+a serious matter ... for me."
+
+Then, because he was a practical man and knew that happiness, like all
+else in this life, must be dealt with practically if aught is to be
+made of it, he told her why he had come. For happiness must not be
+rushed at and seized with wild eyes and grasping hands, but must be
+quickly taken when the chance offers, and delicately handled so that it
+be not ruined by over haste or too much confidence. It is a gift that
+is rarely offered, and it is only fair to say that the majority of men
+and women are quite unfit to have it. Even a little prosperity (which
+is usually mistaken for happiness) often proves too much for the mental
+equilibrium, and one trembles to think what the recipient would do with
+real happiness.
+
+"I did not come here intending to tell you that," said Cornish, after a
+pause.
+
+
+They were seated now on the dry and driven sand, among the inequalities
+of the tufted grass.
+
+Dorothy glanced at him gravely, for his voice had been grave.
+
+"I think I knew," she answered, with a sort of quiet exultation.
+Happiness is the quietest of human states.
+
+Cornish turned to look at her, and after a moment she met his eyes--for
+an instant only.
+
+"I came to tell you a very different story," he said, "and one which at
+the moment seems to present insuperable difficulties. I can only show
+you that I care for you by bringing trouble into your life--which is not
+even original."
+
+He broke off with a little, puzzled laugh. For he did not know how best
+to tell her that her brother was a scoundrel. He sat making idle holes
+in the sand with his stick.
+
+"I am in a difficulty," he said at length--"so great a difficulty that
+there seems to be only one way out of it. You must forget what I have
+told you to-day, for I never meant to tell you until afterwards, if
+ever. Forget it for some months until the malgamite works have ceased
+to exist, and then, if I have the good fortune to be given an
+opportunity, I will"--he paused--"I will mention myself again," he
+concluded steadily.
+
+Dorothy's lips quivered, but she said nothing. It seemed that she was
+content to accept his judgment without comment as superior to her own.
+For the wisest woman is she who suspects that men are wiser.
+
+
+"It is quite clear," said Cornish, "that the Malgamite scheme is a
+fraud. It is worse than that; it is a murderous fraud. For Von Holzen's
+new system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system
+revived, which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not
+this identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the
+stuff for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English,
+it is murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I must stop it whatever it may cost me."
+
+"Yes," she answered again.
+
+"I am going to the works to-night to have it out with Von Holzen and
+your brother. It is impossible to say how matters really stand--how
+much your brother knows, I mean--for Von Holzen is clever. He is a
+cold, calculating man, who rules all who come near him. Your brother
+has only to do with the money part of it. They are making a great
+fortune. I am told that financially it is splendidly managed. I am a
+duffer at such things, but I understand better now how it has all been
+done, and I see how clever it is. They produce the stuff for almost
+nothing, they sell it at a great price, and they have a monopoly. And
+the world thinks it is a charity. It is not; it is murder."
+
+He spoke quietly, tapping the ground with his stick, and emphasizing
+his words with a deeper thrust into the sand. The habit of touching
+life lightly had become second nature with him, and even now he did not
+seem quite serious. He was, at all events, free from that deadly
+earnestness which blinds the eye to all save one side of a question.
+The very soil that he tapped could have risen up to speak in favour of
+such as he; for William the Silent, it is said, loved a jest, and never
+seemed to be quite serious during the long years of the greatest
+struggle the modern world has seen.
+
+"It seems probable," went on Cornish, "that your brother has been
+gradually drawn into it; that he did not know when he first joined Von
+Holzen what the thing really was--the system of manufacture, I mean. As
+for the financial side of it, I am afraid he must have known of that
+all along; but the older one gets the less desirous one is of judging
+one's neighbour. In financial matters so much seems to depend, in the
+formation of a judgment, whether one is a loser or a gainer by the
+transaction. There is a great fortune in malgamite, and a fortune is a
+temptation to be avoided. Others besides your brother have been
+tempted. I should probably have succumbed myself if it had not
+been--for you."
+
+
+She smiled again in a sort of derision; as if she could have told him
+more about himself than he could tell her. He saw the smile, and it
+brought a flash of light to his eyes. Deeper than fear of damnation,
+higher than the creeds, stronger than any motive in a man's life, is
+the absolute confidence placed in him by a woman.
+
+"I went into the thing thoughtlessly," he continued, "because it was
+the fashion at the time to be concerned in some large charity. And I am
+not sorry. It was the luckiest move I ever made. And now the thing will
+have to be gone through with, and there will be trouble."
+
+But he laughed as he spoke; for there was no trouble in their hearts,
+neither could anything appall them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+DANGER.
+
+"Beware equally of a sudden friend and a slow enemy."
+
+
+Roden and Von Holzen were at work in the little office of the malgamite
+works. The sun had just set, and the soft pearly twilight was creeping
+over the sand hills. The day's work was over, and the factories were
+all locked up for the night. In the stillness that seems to settle over
+earth and sea at sunset, the sound of the little waves could be
+heard--a distant, constant babbling from the west. The workers had gone
+to their huts. They were not a noisy body of men. It was their custom
+to creep quietly home when their work was done, and to sit in their
+doorways if the evening was warm, or with closed doors if the north
+wind was astir, and silently, steadily assuage their deadly thirst.
+Those who sought to harvest their days, who fondly imagined they were
+going to make a fight for it, drank milk according to advice handed
+down to them from their sickly forefathers. The others, more reckless,
+or wiser, perhaps, in their brief generation, took stronger drink to
+make glad their hearts and for their many infirmities.
+
+They had merely to ask, and that which they asked for was given to them
+without comment.
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Ben to the new-comers, "you has a slap-up time--while
+it lasts."
+
+For Uncle Ben was a strong man, and waxed garrulous in his cups. He had
+made malgamite all his life and nothing would kill him, not even drink.
+Von Holzen watched Uncle Ben, and did not like him. It was Uncle Ben
+who played the concertina at the door of his hut in the evening. He
+sprang from the class whose soul takes delight in the music of a
+concertina, and rises on bank holidays to that height of gaiety which
+can only be expressed by an interchange of hats. He came from the slums
+of London, where they breed a race of men, small, ill-formed,
+disease-stricken, hard to kill.
+
+The north wind was blowing this evening, and the huts were all closed.
+The sound of Uncle Ben's concertina could be dimly heard in what
+purported to be a popular air--a sort of nightmare of a tune such as a
+barrel-organist must suffer after bad beer. Otherwise, there was
+nothing stirring within the enclosure. There was, indeed, a hush over
+the whole place, such as Nature sometimes lays over certain spots like
+a quiet veil, as one might lay a cloth over the result of an accident,
+and say, "There is something wrong here; go away."
+
+Cornish, having tried the main entrance gate, found it locked, and no
+bell with which to summon those within. He went round to the northern
+end of the enclosure, where the sand had drifted against the high
+corrugated iron fencing, and where there were empty barrels on the
+inner side, as Uncle Ben had told him.
+
+"After all, I am a managing director of this concern," said Cornish to
+himself, with a grim laugh, as he clambered over the fence.
+
+He walked down the row of huts very slowly. Some of them were empty.
+The door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him
+stop and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy
+sheet.
+
+"Um--m," muttered Cornish, and walked on.
+
+There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then
+Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to
+"Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay." He bit his lips, restraining a sudden desire to
+laugh without any mirth in his heart, and went towards Von Holzen's
+office, where a light gleamed through the ill-closed curtains. For
+these men were working night and day now--making their fortunes. He
+caught, as he passed the window, a glimpse of Roden bending over a
+great ledger which lay open before him on the table, while Von Holzen,
+at another desk, was writing letters in his neat German hand.
+
+Then Cornish went to the door, opened it, and passing in, closed it
+behind him.
+
+"Good evening," he said, with just a slight exaggeration of his usual
+suave politeness.
+
+"Halloa!" exclaimed Roden, with a startled look, and instinctively
+closing his ledger.
+
+He looked hastily towards Von Holzen, who turned, pen in hand. Von
+Holzen bowed rather coldly.
+
+"Good evening," he answered, without looking at Roden. Indeed, he
+crossed the room, and placed himself in front of his companion.
+
+"Just come across?" inquired Roden, putting together his papers with
+his usual leisureliness.
+
+"No; I have been here some time."
+
+Cornish turned and met Von Holzen's eyes with a ready audacity. He was
+not afraid of this silent scientist, and had been trained in a social
+world where nerve and daring are highly cultivated. Von Holzen looked
+at him with a measuring eye, and remembered some warning words spoken
+by Roden months before. This was a cleverer man than they had thought
+him. This was the one mistake they had made in their careful scheme.
+
+"I have been looking into things," said Cornish, in a final voice. He
+took off his hat and laid it aside.
+
+Von Holzen went slowly back to his desk, which was a high one. He stood
+there close by Roden, leaning his elbow on the letters that he had been
+writing. The two men were thus together facing Cornish, who stood at
+the other side of the table.
+
+"I have been looking into things," he repeated, "and--the game is up."
+
+Roden, whose face was quite colourless, shrugged his shoulders with a
+sneering smile. Von Holzen slowly moistened his lips, and Cornish,
+meeting his glance, felt his heart leap upward to his throat. His
+way had been the way of peace. He had never seen that look in a man's
+eyes before, but there was no mistaking it. There are two things that
+none can mistake--an earthquake, and murder shining in a man's eyes.
+But there was good blood in Cornish's veins, and good blood never
+fails. His muscles tightened, and he smiled in Von Holzen's face.
+
+"When you were over in London a fortnight ago," he said, "you saw my
+uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be
+squared. As to the financial part of this business"--he paused, and
+glanced at the ledgers--"that seems to be of secondary importance at
+the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance."
+
+Roden's tired eyes flickered at the way in which the word was spoken.
+
+"I propose to deal with the more vital questions," Cornish continued,
+looking straight at Von Holzen. "I want details of the new process--the
+prescription, in fact."
+
+"Then you want much," answered Von Holzen, with his slight accent.
+
+"Oh, I want more than that," was the retort; "I want a list of your
+deaths--not necessarily for publication. If the public were to hear of
+it, they would pull the place down about your ears, and probably hang
+you on your own water-tower."
+
+Von Holzen laughed. "Ah, my fine gentleman, if there is any hanging up
+to be done, you are in it, too," he said. Then he broke into a
+good-humoured laugh, and waved the question aside with his hand. "But
+why should we quarrel? It is mere foolishness. We are not schoolboys,
+but men of the world, who are reasonable, I hope. I cannot give you the
+prescription because it is a trade secret. You would not understand it
+without expert assistance, and the expert would turn his knowledge to
+account. We chemists, you see, do not trust each other. No; but I can
+make malgamite here before your eyes--to show you that it is
+harmless--what?" He spoke easily, with a certain fascination of manner,
+as a man to whom speech was easy enough--who was perhaps silent with a
+set purpose--because silence is safe. "But it is a long process," he
+added, holding up one finger, "I warn you. It will take me two hours.
+And you, who have perhaps not dined, and this Roden, who is tired
+out--"
+
+"Roden can go home--if he is tired," said Cornish.
+
+"Well," answered Von Holzen, with outspread hands, "it is as you like.
+Will you have it now and here?"
+
+"Yes--now and here."
+
+Roden was slowly folding away his papers and closing his books. He
+glanced curiously at Von Holzen, as if he were displaying a hitherto
+unknown side to his character. Von Holzen, too, was collecting the
+papers scattered on his desk, with a patient air and a half-suppressed
+sigh of weariness, as if he were entering upon a work of
+supererogation.
+
+"As to the deaths," he said, "I can demonstrate that as we go along.
+You will see where the dangers lie, and how criminally neglectful these
+people are. It is a curious thing, that carelessness of life. I am told
+the Russian soldiers have it."
+
+It seemed that in his way Herr von Holzen was a philosopher, having in
+his mind a store of odd human items. He certainly had the power of
+arousing curiosity and making his hearers wish him to continue
+speaking, which is rare. Most men are uninteresting because they talk
+too much.
+
+"Then I think I will go," said Roden, rising. He looked from one to the
+other, and received no answer. "Good night," he added, and walked to
+the door with dragging feet.
+
+"Good night," said Cornish. And he was left alone for the first time in
+his life with Von Holzen, who was clearing the table and making his
+preparations with a silent deftness of touch acquired by the handling
+of delicate instruments, the mixing of dangerous drugs.
+
+"Then our good friend Lord Ferriby does not know that you are here?" he
+inquired, without much interest, as if acknowledging the necessity of
+conversation of some sort.
+
+"No," answered Cornish.
+
+"When I have shown you this experiment," pursued Von Holzen, setting
+the lamp on a side-table, "we must have a little talk about his
+lordship. With all modesty, you and I have the clearest heads of all
+concerned in this invention." He looked at Cornish with his sudden,
+pleasant smile. "You will excuse me," he said, "if while I am doing
+this I do not talk much. It is a difficult thing to keep in one's head,
+and all the attention is required in order to avoid a mistake or a
+mishap."
+
+He had already assumed an air of unconscious command, which was
+probably habitual with him, as if there were no question between them
+as to who was the stronger man. Cornish sat, pleasantly silent and
+acquiescent, but he felt in no way dominated. It is one thing to assume
+authority, and another to possess it.
+
+"I have a little laboratory in the factory where I usually work, but
+not at night. We do not allow lights in there. Excuse me, I will fetch
+my crucible and lamp."
+
+And he went out, leaving Cornish alone. There was only one door to the
+room, leading straight out into the open. The office, it appeared, was
+built in the form of an annex to one of the storehouses, which stood
+detached from all other buildings.
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen returned, laden with bottles and jars. One
+large wicker-covered bottle with a screw top he set carefully on the
+table.
+
+"I had to find them in the dark," he explained absent-mindedly, as if
+his thoughts were all absorbed by the work in hand. "And one must be
+careful not to jar or break any of these. Please do not touch them in
+my absence." As he spoke, he again examined the stoppers to see that
+all was secure. "I come again," he said, making sure that the large
+basket-covered bottle was safe. Then he walked quickly out of the room
+and closed the door behind him.
+
+Almost immediately Cornish was conscious of a bitter taste in his
+mouth, though he could smell nothing. The lamp suddenly burnt blue and
+instantly went out.
+
+Cornish stood up, groping in the dark, his head swimming, a deadly
+numbness dragging at his limbs. He had no pain, only a strange
+sensation of being drawn upwards. Then his head bumped against the
+door, and the remaining glimmer of consciousness shaped itself into the
+knowledge that this was death. He seemed to swing backwards and
+forwards between life and death--between sleep and consciousness. Then
+he felt a cooler air on his lips. He had fallen against the door, which
+did not fit against the threshold, and a draught of fresh air whistled
+through upon his face. "Carbonic acid gas," he muttered, with shaking
+lips. "Carbonic acid gas." He repeated the words over and over again,
+as a man in delirium repeats that which has fixed itself in his
+wandering brain. Then, with a great effort, he brought himself to
+understand the meaning of the words that one portion of his brain kept
+repeating to the other portion which could not comprehend them. He
+tried to recollect all that he knew of carbonic acid gas, which was, in
+fact, not much. He vaguely remembered that it is not an active gas that
+mingles with the air and spreads, but rather it lurks in corners--an
+invisible form of death--and will so lurk for years unless disturbed
+by a current of air.
+
+ Cornish knew that in falling he had fallen out of the radius of the
+escaping gas, which probably filled the upper part of the room. If he
+raised himself, he would raise himself into the gas, which was slowly
+descending upon him, and that would mean instant death. He had already
+inhaled enough--perhaps too much. He lay quite still, breathing the
+draught between the door and the threshold, and raising his left hand,
+felt for the handle of the door. He found it and turned it. The door
+was locked. He lay still, and his brain began to wander, but with an
+effort he kept a hold upon his thoughts. He was a strong man, who had
+never had a bad illness--a cool head and an intrepid heart.
+Stretching out his legs, he found some object close to him. It was Von
+Holzen's desk, which stood on four strong legs against the wall.
+Cornish, who was quick and observant, remembered now how the room was
+shaped and furnished. He gathered himself together, drew in his legs,
+and doubled himself, with his feet against the desk, his shoulder
+against the door. He was long and lithe, of a steely strength which he
+had never tried. He now slowly straightened himself, and tore the
+screws out of the solid wood of the door, which remained hanging by the
+upper hinge. His head and shoulders were now out in the open air.
+He lay for a moment or two to regain his breath, and recover from the
+deadly nausea that follows gas poisoning. Then he rose to his feet, and
+stood swaying like a drunken man. Von Holzen's cottage was a few yards
+away. A light was burning there, and gleamed through the cracks of the
+curtains.
+
+Cornish went towards the cottage, then paused. "No," he muttered,
+holding his head with both hands. "It will keep." And he staggered away
+in the darkness towards the corner where the empty barrels stood
+against the fence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+FROM THE PAST.
+
+"One and one with a shadowy third."
+
+
+"You have the air, _mon ami_, of a malgamiter," said Mrs. Vansittart,
+looking into Cornish's face--"lurking here in your little inn in a back
+street! Why do you not go to one of the larger hotels in Scheveningen,
+since you have abandoned The Hague?"
+
+"Because the larger hotels are not open yet," replied Cornish, bringing
+forward a chair.
+
+"That is true, now that I think of it. But I did not ask the question
+wanting an answer. You, who have been in the world, should know women
+better than to think that. I asked in idleness--a woman's trick.
+Yes; you have been or you are ill. There is a white look in your face."
+
+She sat looking at him. She had walked all the way from Park Straat in
+the shade of the trees--quite a pedestrian feat for one who confessed to
+belonging to a carriage generation. She had boldly entered the
+restaurant of the little hotel, and had told the waiter to take her to
+Mr. Cornish's apartment.
+
+"It hardly matters what a very young waiter, at the beginning of his
+career, may think of us. But downstairs they are rather scandalized, I
+warn you," she said.
+
+"Oh, I ceased explaining many years ago," replied Cornish, "even in
+English. More suspicion is aroused by explanation than by silence. For
+this wise world will not believe that one is telling the truth."
+
+"When one is not," suggested Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"When one is not," admitted Cornish, in rather a tired voice, which, to
+so keen an ear as that of his hearer, was as good as asking her why she
+had come.
+
+She laughed. "Yes," she said, "you are not inclined to sit and talk
+nonsense at this time in the morning. No more am I. I did not walk from
+Park Straat and take your defences by storm, and subject myself to the
+insult of a raised eyebrow on the countenance of a foolish young
+waiter, to talk nonsense even with you, who are cleverer with your
+non-committing platitudes than any man I know." She laughed rather
+harshly, as many do when they find themselves suddenly within hail, as
+it were, of that weakness which is called feeling. "No, I came here
+on--let us say--business. I hold a good card, and I am going to play
+it. I want you to hold your hand in the mean time; give me to-day, you
+understand. I have taken great care to strengthen my hand. This is no
+sudden impulse, but a set purpose to which I have led up for some
+weeks. It is not scrupulous; it is not even honest. It is, in a word,
+essentially feminine, and not an affair to which you as a man could
+lend a moment's approval. Therefore, I tell you nothing. I merely ask
+you to leave me an open field to-day. Our end is the same, though our
+methods and our purpose differ as much as--well, as much as our minds.
+You want to break this Malgamite corner. I want to break Otto von
+Holzen. You understand?"
+
+Cornish had known her long enough to permit himself to nod and say
+nothing.
+
+"If I succeed, _tant mieux_. If I fail, it is no concern of yours, and
+it will in no way affect you or your plans. Ah, you disapprove, I see.
+What a complicated world this would be if we could all wear masks! Your
+face used to be a safer one than it is now. Can it be that you are
+becoming serious--_un jeune homme serieux?_ Heaven save you from that!"
+
+"No; I have a headache; that is all," laughed
+Cornish.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was slowly unbuttoning and rebuttoning her glove, deep
+in thought. For some women can think deeply and talk superficially at
+the same moment.
+
+"Do you know," she said, with a sudden change of voice and manner, "I
+have a conviction that you know something to-day of which you were
+ignorant yesterday? All knowledge, I suppose, leaves its mark.
+Something about Otto von Holzen, I suspect. Ah, Tony, if you know
+something, tell it to me. If you hold a strong card, let me play it.
+You do not know how I have longed and waited--what a miserable little
+hand I hold against this strong man."
+
+She was serious enough now. Her voice had a ring of hopelessness in it,
+as if she knew that limit against which a woman is fated to throw
+herself when she tries to injure a man who has no love for her. If the
+love be there, then is she strong, indeed; but without it, what can she
+do? It is the little more that is so much, and the little less that is
+such worlds away.
+
+Cornish did not deny the knowledge which she ascribed to him, but
+merely shook his head, and Mrs. Vansittart suddenly changed her manner
+again. She was quick and clever enough to know that whatever account
+stood open between Cornish and Von Holzen the reckoning must be between
+them alone, without the help of any woman.
+
+"Then you will remain indoors," she said, rising, "and recover from
+your ... strange headache--and not go near the malgamite works, nor see
+Percy Roden or Otto von Holzen--and let me have my little try--that is
+all I ask."
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, reluctantly; "but I think you would be wiser
+to leave Von Holzen to me."
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, with one of her quick glances. "You think
+that."
+
+She paused on the threshold, then shrugged her shoulders and passed
+out. She hurried home, and there wrote a note to Percy Roden.
+
+"DEAR MR. RODEN,
+
+"It seems a long time since I saw you last, though perhaps it only
+seems so to _me_. I shall be at home at five o'clock this evening, if
+you care to take pity on a lonely countrywoman. If I should be out
+riding when you come, please await my return.
+
+"Yours very truly,
+
+"EDITH VANSITTART."
+
+She closed the letter with a little cruel smile, and despatched it by
+the hand of a servant. Quite early in the afternoon she put on her
+habit, but did not go straight downstairs, although her horse was at
+the door. She went to the library instead--a small, large-windowed room,
+looking on to Oranje Straat. From a drawer in her writing-table she
+took a key, and examined it closely before slipping it into her pocket.
+It was a new key with the file-marks still upon it.
+
+"A clumsy expedient," she said. "But the end is so desirable that the
+means must not be too scrupulously considered."
+
+She rode down Kazerne Straat and through the wood by the Leyden Road.
+By turning to the left, she soon made her way to the East Dunes, and
+thus describing a circle, rode slowly back towards Scheveningen. She
+knew her way, it appeared, to the malgamite works. Leaving her horse in
+the care of the groom, she walked to the gate of the works, which was
+opened to her by the doorkeeper, after some hesitation. The man was a
+German, and therefore, perhaps, more amenable to Mrs. Vansittart's
+imperious arguments.
+
+"I must see Herr von Holzen without delay," she said. "Show me his
+office."
+
+
+
+The man pointed out the building. "But the Herr Professor is in the
+factory," he said. "It is mixing-day to-day. I will, however, fetch
+him."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked slowly towards the office where Roden had told
+her that the safe stood wherein the prescription and other papers were
+secured. She knew it was mixing-day and that Von Holzen would be in the
+factory. She had sent Roden on a fool's errand to Park Straat to await
+her return there. Was she going to succeed? Would she be left alone for
+a few moments in that little office with the safe? She fingered the key
+in her pocket--a duplicate obtained at some risk, with infinite
+difficulty, by the simple stratagem of borrowing Roden's keys to open
+an old and disused desk one evening in Park Straat. She had conceived
+the plan herself, had carried it out herself, as all must who wish to
+succeed in a human design. She was quite aware that the plan was crude
+and almost childish, but the gain was great, and it is often the
+simplest means that succeed. The secret of the manufacture of
+malgamite--written in black and white--might prove to be Von Holzen's
+death-warrant. Mrs. Vansittart had to fight in her own way or not fight
+at all. She could not understand the slower, surer methods of Mr. Wade
+and Cornish, who appeared to be waiting and wasting time.
+
+The German doorkeeper accompanied her to the office, and opened the
+door after knocking and receiving no answer.
+
+"Will the high-born take a seat?" he said; "I shall not be long."
+
+"There is no need to hurry," said Mrs. Vansittart to herself.
+
+And before the door was quite closed she was on her feet again. The
+office was bare and orderly. Even the waste-paper baskets were empty.
+The books were locked away and the desks were clear. But the small
+green safe stood in the corner. Mrs. Vansittart went towards it, key in
+hand. The key was the right one. It had only been selected by guesswork
+among a number on Roden's bunch. It slipped into the lock and turned
+smoothly, but the door would not move. She tugged and wrenched at the
+handle, then turned it accidentally, and the heavy door swung open.
+There were two drawers at the bottom of the safe which were not locked,
+and contained neatly folded papers. Her fingers were among these in a
+moment. The papers were folded and tied together. Many of the bundles
+were labelled. A long narrow envelope lay at the bottom of the drawer.
+She seized it quickly and turned it over. It bore no address nor any
+superscription. "Ah!" she said breathlessly, and slipped her finger
+within the flap of the envelope. Then she hesitated for a moment, and
+turned on her heel. Von Holzen was standing in the doorway looking at
+her.
+
+They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's
+lips were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet
+eyes were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark
+pupil. Then he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong
+woman, taller than he, or else she would have fallen. Instead, she
+stood her ground, and he, failing to get a grasp at her wrist, stumbled
+sideways against the table. In a moment she had run round it, and again
+they stared at each other, without a word, across the table where Percy
+Roden kept the books of the malgamite works.
+
+A slow smile came to Von Holzen's face, which was colourless always,
+and now a sort of grey. He turned on his heel, walked to the door, and,
+locking it, slipped the key into his pocket. Then he returned to Mrs.
+Vansittart. Neither spoke. No explanation was at that moment necessary.
+He lifted the table bodily, and set it aside against the wall. Then he
+went slowly towards her, holding out his hand for the unaddressed
+envelope, which she held behind her back. He stood for a moment holding
+out his hand while his strong will went out to meet hers. Then he
+sprang at her again and seized her two wrists. The strength of his arms
+was enormous, for he was a deep-chested man, and had been a gymnast.
+The struggle was a short one, and Mrs. Vansittart dropped the envelope
+helplessly from her paralyzed fingers. He picked it up.
+
+"You are the wife of Karl Vansittart," he said in German.
+
+"I am his widow," she replied; and her breath caught, for she was still
+shaken by the physical and moral realization of her absolute
+helplessness in his hands, and she saw in a flash of thought the
+question in his mind as to whether he could afford to let her leave the
+room alive.
+
+"Give me the key with which you opened the safe," he said coldly.
+
+She had replaced the key in her pocket, and now sought it with a
+shaking hand. She gave it to him without a word. Morally she would not
+acknowledge herself beaten, and the bitterness of that moment was the
+self-contempt with which she realized a physical cowardice which she
+had hitherto deemed quite impossible. For the flesh is always surprised
+by its own weakness.
+
+Von Holzen looked at the key critically, turning it over in order to
+examine the workmanship. It was clumsily enough made, and he doubtless
+guessed how she had obtained it. Then he glanced at her as she stood
+breathless with a colourless face and compressed lips.
+
+"I hope I did not hurt you," he said quietly, thereby putting in a dim
+and far-off claim to greatness, for it is hard not to triumph in
+absolute victory.
+
+She shook her head with a twisted smile, and looked down at her hands,
+which were still helpless. There were bands of bright red round the
+white wrists. Her gloves lay on the table. She went towards them and
+numbly took them up. He was impassive still, and his face, which had
+flushed a few moments earlier, slowly regained its usual calm pallor.
+It was this very calmness, perhaps, that suddenly incensed Mrs.
+Vansittart. Or it may have been that she had regained her courage.
+
+"Yes," she cried, with a sort of break in her voice that made it
+strident--"yes. I am Karl Vansittart's wife, and I--cared for him. Do
+you know what that means? But you can't. All that side of life is a
+closed book to such as you. It means that if you had been a hundred
+times in the right and he always in the wrong, I should still have
+believed in him and distrusted you--should still have cared for him and
+hated you. But he was not guilty. He was in the right and you were
+wrong--a thief and a murderer, no doubt. And to screen your paltry
+name, you sacrificed Karl and the happiness of two people who had just
+begun to be happy. It means that I shall not rest until I have made you
+pay for what you have done. I have never lost sight of you--and never
+shall--"
+
+She paused, and looked at his impassive face with a strange, dull
+curiosity as she spoke of the future, as if wondering whether she had a
+future or had reached the end of her life--here, at this moment, in the
+little plank-walled office of the malgamite works. But her courage rose
+steadily. It is only afar off that Death is terrible. When we actually
+stand in his presence, we usually hold up our heads and face him
+quietly enough.
+
+"You may have other enemies," she continued. "I know you have--men,
+too--but none of them will last so long as I shall, none of them is to
+be feared as I am--"
+
+She stopped again in a fury, for he was obviously waiting for her to
+pause for mere want of breath, as if her words could be of no weight.
+
+"If you fear anything on earth," she said, acknowledging is one merit
+despite herself.
+
+"I fear you so little," he answered, going to the door and unlocking
+it, "that you may go."
+
+Her whip lay on the table. He picked it up and handed it to her,
+gravely, without a bow, without a shade of triumph or the smallest
+suspicion of sarcasm. There was perhaps the nucleus of a great man in
+Otto von Holzen, after all, for there was no smallness in his mind. He
+opened the door, and stood aside for her to pass out.
+
+"It is not because you do not fear me--that you let me go," said Mrs.
+Vansittart. "But--because you are afraid of Tony Cornish."
+
+And she went out, wondering whether the shot had told or missed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+A COMBINED FORCE.
+
+"Hear, but be faithful to your interest still.
+ Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart walked to the gate of the malgamite works, thinking
+that Von Holzen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate,
+which the porter threw open on seeing her approach, she turned and
+found that she was alone. Von Holzen was walking quietly back towards
+the factory. He was so busy making his fortune that he could not give
+Mrs. Vansittart more than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went
+towards her horse. Neglect is no balm to the wounds of the defeated.
+
+She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five
+o'clock, and Percy Roden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat.
+It is a woman's business to know what is expected of her. Mrs.
+Vansittart recalled in a very matter-of-fact way the wording of her
+letter to Roden. She brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure
+that her hair was tidy. Then she fell into deep thought, and set her
+mind in a like order for the work that lay before her. A man's deepest
+schemes in love are child's play beside the woman's schemes that meet
+or frustrate his own. Mrs. Vansittart rode rapidly home to Park Straat.
+
+Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the
+drawing-room. She walked slowly upstairs. Some victories are only to be
+won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Vansittart's mind was warped,
+or she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her
+revenge. She was sacrificing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred.
+
+"Ah!" she said to Roden, whose manner betrayed the recollection of her
+invitation to him, "so I have kept you waiting--a minute, perhaps, for
+each day that you have stayed away from Park Straat."
+
+Roden laughed, with a shade of embarrassment, which she was quick to
+detect.
+
+"Is it your sister," she asked, "who has induced you to stay away?"
+
+"Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you," he answered.
+
+"Then it is Herr von Holzen," said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her
+gloves and turning towards the tea-table. She spoke quietly and rather
+indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social
+grade. "I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know
+something of your--what is he?--your foreman. He has probably warned
+you against me. My husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I
+believe, robbed by him. We never knew the man socially, and
+I have always suspected that he bore us some ill feeling on that
+account. You remember--in this room, when you brought him to call soon
+after your works were built--that he referred to having met my husband.
+Doubtless with a view to finding out how much I knew, or if I was in
+reality the wife of Charles Vansittart. But I did not choose to
+enlighten him."
+
+She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were unsteady still,
+and she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discoloration of
+her wrist. She turned rather suddenly, and saw on Roden's face the
+confession that it had been due to Von Holzen's influence that he had
+absented himself from her drawing-room.
+
+"However," she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if
+dismissing a subject of small importance--"however, I suppose Herr von
+Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons
+in that trying condition."
+
+She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit.
+Roden's slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one
+may be sure.
+
+"Tell me your news," she said. "You look tired and ill. It is hard work
+making one's fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before
+you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth
+while to have worked so hard."
+
+"Perhaps what I want is not to be bought," he said, with his eyes on
+the carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game.
+
+"Ah!" she exclaimed. "Then it must be either worthless or priceless."
+
+He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to
+detect the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of
+the tired eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a financier, and
+women have no use for such cleverness, only for the results of it.
+Roden was conscious of making no progress with Mrs. Vansittart, who
+handled him as a cat handles a disabled mouse while watching another
+hole.
+
+"You have been busier than ever, I suppose," she said, "since you have
+had no time to remember your friends."
+
+"Yes," answered Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most
+absorbing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is
+capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Vansittart.
+"Yes, we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day
+now. And we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect
+it. Von Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says
+anything. He may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Vansittart, but he is a
+wonderful man."
+
+"Ah," said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferently; and something in her manner
+made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for
+associating himself with a person who, as she had subtly and
+flatteringly hinted more than once, was far beneath him from a social
+point of view. This desire rendered him less guarded than it was
+perhaps wise to be under the circumstances.
+
+"Yes, he is a very clever man--a genius, I think. He rises to each
+difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of
+his foresight. He has done more than you think in the malgamite works.
+His share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only
+the financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and
+about--money--how it should be handled--that is all."
+
+"You are too modest, I think," said Mrs. Vansittart, gravely. "You
+forget that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in
+London."
+
+"Yes--while Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult
+task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It
+would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders,
+like other people." And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his
+moustache, smiled a somewhat fatuous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a
+woman will love a man the more for being a good man of business.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Vansittart, softly.
+
+"But I should like Von Holzen to have his due," said Roden, rather
+grandly. "He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes that except
+perhaps Cornish."
+
+"Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then?"
+
+"Cornish does his best to upset Von Holzen's plans at every turn. He
+does not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into
+business he invariably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he
+calls scruples. It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to
+it." Roden spoke rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and
+disliked Mrs. Vansittart's attitude towards Cornish. "But he is no
+match for Von Holzen," he continued, "as he will find to his cost. Von
+Holzen is not the sort of man to stand any kind of interference."
+
+
+
+"Ah?" said Mrs. Vansittart again, in the slightly questioning and
+indifferent manner with which she received all defence of Otto von
+Holzen, and which had the effect of urging Roden to further
+explanation.
+
+"He is not a man I should care to cross myself," he said, determined to
+secure Mrs. Vansittart's full attention. "He has the whole of the
+malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty powerful, I can tell
+you. They are a desperate set of fellows; men engaged in a dangerous
+industry do not wear kid gloves."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea-table; for Roden
+rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he
+perhaps suspected.
+
+"Ah," she said, rather more indifferently than before, "I think you
+exaggerate Herr von Holzen's importance in the world."
+
+"I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is
+not careful," retorted Roden, half sullenly.
+
+There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced
+sharply at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid
+of Von Holzen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared.
+There are periods in every man's history when human affairs suddenly
+appear to become unmanageable and the course of events gets beyond any
+sort of control--when the hand at the helm falters, and even the
+managing female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have
+reached such a crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart; charm she never so
+wisely, could not brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in
+no mood for love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humour,
+as a woman can, when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many
+things, both glancing at the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were
+not the first man and woman to go hunting Cupid with the best will in
+the world--only to draw a blank.
+
+At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements.
+Physically and morally he seemed to want tightening up.
+
+"I must go back to the works," he said. "We work late to-night."
+
+"Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been," replied Mrs.
+Vansittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold, with a
+gravity and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, "I do not
+want you to discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand!"
+
+She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he
+went downstairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him
+she rang sharply.
+
+"The brougham," she said to the servant, "at once."
+
+Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa
+des Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely
+obscuring the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight. Indeed,
+nature itself appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the
+town behind and emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the
+countless sparrows in the lime-trees were preparing for the night. The
+trees themselves were shedding an evening odour, while, from canal and
+dyke and ditch, there arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass
+which hangs over the whole of Holland all night.
+
+"The place smells of calamity," said Mrs. Vansittart to herself, as she
+quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the
+Villa des Dunes.
+
+Dorothy was in the garden, and, seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs.
+Vansittart had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she
+usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves.
+
+"Come," she said rapidly, taking Dorothy's hand, and holding it--"come
+to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we
+dined alone together. I do not want to go indoors. I am nervous,
+I suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in
+the dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants,
+so I came to you."
+
+"I think there is going to be a thunderstorm," said Dorothy.
+
+And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sudden laugh. "I knew you would say
+that. Because you are modern and practical--or, at all events, you show
+a practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that
+much for the modern girl, at all events--she keeps her head. As to her
+heart--well, perhaps she has not got one."
+
+"Perhaps not," admitted Dorothy.
+
+They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a
+weeping-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs.
+Vansittart glanced at her companion, and gave a little, low, wise
+laugh.
+
+
+"I did well to come to you," she said, "for you have not many words.
+You have a sense of humour--that saving sense which so few people
+possess--and I suspect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic,
+which is still there, but in a modified degree. One is always more
+nervous for one's friends than for one's self. Is it not so? It is for
+Tony Cornish that I fear."
+
+Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short
+silence.
+
+"I do not know why he stays in Holland, and I wish he would go home,"
+continued Mrs. Vansittart. "It is unreasoning, I know, and foolish, but
+I am convinced that he is running into danger." She stopped suddenly,
+and laid her hand upon Dorothy's; for she had caught many foreign ways
+and gestures. "Listen," she said, in a lower tone. "It is useless for
+you and me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime,
+and Tony Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected
+that. I know Otto von Holzen. He killed my husband. He is a most
+dangerous man. He is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from
+here, and he does not understand the sort of person he is dealing with.
+One does not frighten persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man
+or woman. I have made Tony promise not to leave his room to-day. For
+to-morrow I cannot answer. You understand?"
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy, with a sudden light in her eyes, "I
+understand."
+
+"Your brother must take care of himself. I care nothing for Lord
+Ferriby, or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish,
+for whom I have an affection, for he was part of my past life--when I
+was happy. As for the malgamiters, they and their works may--go hang!"
+And Mrs. Vansittart snapped her fingers. "Do you know Major White?" she
+asked suddenly.
+
+"Yes; I have seen him once."
+
+"So have I--only once. But for a woman once is often enough--is it not
+so?--to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here."
+
+"He is coming," answered Dorothy. "I think he is coming to-morrow. When
+I saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe
+he wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking
+him to come."
+
+"Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent
+for reinforcements. When does Major White arrive--in the morning?"
+
+"No; not till the evening."
+
+"Then he comes by Flushing," said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. "You
+are thinking of something. What is it?"
+
+"I was wondering how I could see some of the malgamite workers
+to-morrow. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may
+be expected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple
+to make use of them."
+
+ "Ah!" said Mrs. Vansittart, "you have guessed that, too. I have more
+than guessed it--I know it. You must see these men to-morrow."
+
+"I will," answered Dorothy, simply.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. "Yes," she said, "I came to
+the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other,
+perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good night and come to lunch with
+me to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+GRATITUDE.
+
+"On se guerit de la bienfaisance par la connaissance de ceux qu'on
+oblige."
+
+
+"Can you tell me if there is a moon to-night?" Mrs. Vansittart asked a
+porter in the railway station at The Hague.
+
+The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was
+a serious one.
+
+"I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady," he answered, with his
+hand at the peak of his cap.
+
+It was past nine o'clock, and Mrs. Vansittart had been waiting nearly
+half an hour for the Flushing train. Her carriage was walking slowly up
+and down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station.
+She had taken a ticket in order to gain access to the platform, and was
+almost alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled backwards and
+forwards between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the
+great arch of the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month
+of June still lingered, but the twilight was at hand. The Flushing
+train was late to-night of all nights; and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her
+foot with impatience. What was worse was Dorothy Roden's lateness.
+Dorothy and Mrs. Vansittart, like two generals on the eve of a battle,
+had been exchanging hurried notes all day; and Dorothy had promised to
+meet Mrs. Vansittart at the station on the arrival of the train.
+
+"The moon is rising now, my lady--a half-moon," said the porter
+approaching with that leisureliness which characterizes railway porters
+between trains.
+
+"Why does your stupid train not come?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, with
+unreasoning anger.
+
+"It has been signalled, my lady; a few minutes now."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief, and turned on her heel.
+She had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw
+Dorothy coming up the slope to the platform. At last matters were
+taking a turn for the better--except, indeed, Dorothy's face, which was
+set and white.
+
+"I have found out something," she said at once, and speaking quickly
+but steadily. "It is for to-night, between half-past nine and ten."
+
+She had her watch in her hand, and compared it quickly with the station
+clock as she spoke.
+
+"I have secured Uncle Ben," she said--all the ridicule of the name
+seemed to have vanished long ago. "He is drunk, and therefore cunning.
+It is only when he is sober that he is stupid. I have him in a cab
+downstairs, and have told your man to watch him. I have been to Mr.
+Cornish's rooms again, and he has not come in. He has not been in since
+morning, and they do not know where he is. No one knows where he is."
+
+Dorothy's lip quivered for a moment, and she held it with her teeth.
+Mrs. Vansittart touched her arm lightly with her gloved fingers--a
+strange, quick, woman's gesture.
+
+"I went upstairs to his rooms," continued Dorothy. "It is no good
+thinking of etiquette now or pretending----"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never
+finished.
+
+"I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket.
+One in an uneducated hand--perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von
+Holzen's writing."
+
+"Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing--addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at
+Scheveningen?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then Otto von Holzen knows where Tony is staying, at all events. We
+have learnt something. You have kept the envelopes?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+They both turned at the rumble of the train outside the station. The
+great engine came clanking in over the points, its lamp glaring like
+the eye of some monster.
+
+"Provided Major White is in the train," muttered Mrs. Vansittart,
+tapping on the pavement with her foot. "If he is not in the train,
+Dorothy?"
+
+"Then we must go alone."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down.
+
+
+"You are a brave woman," she said thoughtfully.
+
+But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small
+things as well as in great. They saw him pushing his way patiently
+through the crowd of hotel porters and others who had advice or their
+services to offer him. Then he saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and
+recognized them.
+
+"Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it
+straight to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere."
+
+Still Major White was only in his normal condition of mild and patient
+surprise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart once, and Dorothy as often.
+He did exactly as he was told without asking one of those hundred
+questions which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more
+women under such circumstances, and followed the ladies out of the
+crowd.
+
+"We must talk here," said Mrs. Vansittart. "One cannot do so in a
+carriage in the streets of The Hague."
+
+Major White bowed gravely, and looked from one to the other. He was
+rather travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat.
+
+"Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to
+the malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question,
+however," said Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be
+impatient with this placid man. "He has earned the enmity of Otto von
+Holzen--a man who will stop at nothing--and the malgamiters are being
+raised against him by Von Holzen. Our information is very vague, but we
+are almost certain that an attempt is to be made on Tony's life
+to-night between half-past nine and ten. You understand?" Mrs.
+Vansittart almost stamped her foot.
+
+"Oh yes," answered White, looking at the station clock. "Twenty
+minutes' time."
+
+"We have the information from one of the malgamiters themselves, who
+knows the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage
+outside the station."
+
+"How tipsy?" asked Major White; and both his hearers shrugged their
+shoulders.
+
+"How can we tell you that?" snapped Mrs. Vansittart; and Major White
+dropped his glass from his eye.
+
+"Where is your brother?" he said, turning to Dorothy. He was evidently
+rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick-spoken person not likely
+to have patience with a slow man.
+
+"He has gone to Utrecht," answered Dorothy. "And Mr. von Holzen is not
+at the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a
+lucky chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here."
+
+White looked at Dorothy thoughtfully, and something in his gaze made
+her change colour.
+
+"Let me see this man," he said, moving towards the exit.
+
+"He is in that carriage," said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet
+corner of the station yard. "You must be quick. We have only a quarter
+of an hour now. He is an Englishman."
+
+White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, and
+closed the door after him. In a few moments he emerged again.
+
+"Tell the man to drive to a chemist's," he said to Mrs. Vansittart.
+"The fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will
+get more. Follow in your carriage--you and Miss Roden."
+
+It was Major White's turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart
+meekly obeyed, though White's movements were so leisurely as to madden
+her.
+
+At the chemist's shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared
+to have some language in common with the druggist, for he presently
+returned to the carriage, carrying a tumbler. After a moment he went to
+the window of Mrs. Vansittart's neat brougham.
+
+"I must bring him in here," he said. "You have a pair of horses which
+look as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station
+on the Dunes, wherever that may be."
+
+Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben, whom he brought by one arm, in a
+dislocated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the major's
+long stride.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart's coachman must have received very decided orders, for
+he skirted the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from the
+streets into the quiet of the Wood, which was dark and deserted. Here,
+in a sandy and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The
+carriage swayed and bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time
+to time Major White shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his
+strenuous treatment.
+
+At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the
+little bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
+pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
+dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
+hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye,
+and looked round him with a measuring glance.
+
+"This place will be as light as day," he said, "when the moon rises
+from behind those trees."
+
+He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low
+voice. The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not
+stand without assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of
+heroic measures. He appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben
+pointed from time to time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When
+his mind, muddled with malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the
+occasion, Major White shook him like a sack. After a few minutes'
+conversation, Ben broke down completely, and sat against a sand-bank to
+weep. Major White left him there, and went towards the ladies.
+
+"Will you tell your man," he said to Mrs. Vansittart, "to drive back to
+the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?" He
+paused, looking dubiously from one to the other. "And you and Miss
+Roden had better go back with him and stay in the carriage."
+
+"No," said Dorothy, quietly.
+
+"Oh no!" added Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration
+for the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension.
+
+"It seems," he said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy
+stones, "that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly
+ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to
+work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the
+works at ten o'clock, when Roden is at Utrecht, and Von Holzen is out.
+There is no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to
+lie in ambush in a hollow of the Dunes, and knock him on the head about
+half a mile from here north-east." And Major White paused in this great
+conversational effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his
+watch-chain.
+
+The two women waited patiently.
+
+"Fine place, these Dunes," said the major, after a pause. "Could
+conceal three thousand men between here and Scheveningen."
+
+"But it is not a question of hiding soldiers," said Mrs. Vansittart,
+sharply, with a movement of the head indicative of supreme contempt.
+
+"No," admitted White. "Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing
+here where everybody can see us. I'll fetch our friend. Think he'll
+sleep if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse."
+
+"But haven't you any plans?" asked Mrs. Vansittart, in despair. "What
+are you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony
+Cornish? Surely you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis."
+
+"Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know," answered White, soothingly,
+as he moved away towards Uncle Ben. "But I think I know how this
+business ought to be managed. Come along--hide ourselves."
+
+He led the way across the dunes, dragging Uncle Ben by one arm, and
+keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent
+sand.
+
+Once Major White paused and looked back. "Don't talk," he said, holding
+up a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning, which he must
+have learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a
+bogey in the chimney.
+
+Once or twice he consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his
+compass. There was a certain skill in his attitude and demeanour, as if
+he knew exactly what he was about. Mrs. Vansittart had a hundred
+questions to ask him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly
+over the distant trees and flooded all the sand-hills with light. Major
+White halted his little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben
+in whispers. Then bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in
+their hiding-place, and went away by himself. He climbed almost to the
+summit of a neighbouring mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face
+uplifted, as if smelling something. Like many short-sighted persons, he
+had a keen scent. In a few minutes he came back again.
+
+"I have found them," he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy.
+"Smelt 'em--like sealing-wax. Eleven of them--waiting there for
+Cornish." And he smiled with a sort of boyish glee.
+
+"What are you going to do?" whispered Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+
+"Thump them," he answered, and presently went back to his post of
+observation.
+
+Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side
+waiting in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from
+the sea. Dorothy shivered. They could hear certain notes of certain
+instruments in the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles
+away. It was strange to be within sound of such evidences of
+civilization, and yet in such a lonely spot--strange to reflect that
+eleven men were waiting within a few yards of them to murder one. And
+yet they could safely have carried out their intention, and have
+scraped a hole in the sand to hide his body, in the certainty that it
+would never be found; for these dunes are a miniature desert of Sahara,
+where nothing bids men leave the beaten paths, where certain hollows
+have probably never been trodden by the foot of man, and where the
+ever-drifting sand slowly accumulates--a very abomination of
+desolation.
+
+At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow
+of the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy
+ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White.
+
+Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the
+malgamiters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden
+from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them.
+
+Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittart's arm, and pointed silently in the
+direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the
+silvery sand-hills. It was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for
+him.
+
+Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere
+habit acquired among his men, he moistened the tips of his fingers at
+his lips.
+
+The malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a
+position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which
+Cornish must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a
+mound, and evidently reporting progress to his companions below. When
+Cornish was within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up
+the bank, and lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his
+comrades. He followed this vigorous attack by charging down into the
+confused mass. In a few moments the malgamiters streamed away across
+the sand-hills like a pack of hounds, though pursued and not pursuing.
+They left some of their number on the sand behind them, for White was a
+hard hitter.
+
+"Give it to them, Tony!" White cried, with a ring of exultation in his
+voice. "Knock 'em down as they come!"
+
+For there was only one path, and the malgamiters had to run the
+gauntlet of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough
+as they passed, selecting the big ones, and letting the others go free.
+He knew them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention
+readily enough.
+
+It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it,
+breathless and eager.
+
+"Oh, I wish I were a man!" exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched
+fists.
+
+They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path.
+White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round
+his arm with his other hand and his teeth.
+
+"It is nothing," he said. "One of the devils had a knife. Must get my
+sleeve mended to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+A REINFORCEMENT.
+
+"Prends moy telle que je suy."
+
+
+When Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning,
+he found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun
+and the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the verandah
+made him look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by
+sunshine and trees, was Marguerite Wade, in a white dress, with demure
+lips, and the complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of
+youth--of that spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the
+strings of older hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which
+is really and honestly worth the living.
+
+Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major White's left
+eyebrow quivered for a moment in indication of his usual mild surprise
+at life and its changing surface.
+
+"Feeling pretty--bobbish?" inquired Marguerite, earnestly.
+
+White's eyebrow went right up and his glass fell.
+
+"Fairly bobbish, thank you," he answered, looking at her with
+stupendous gravity.
+
+"You look all right, you know."
+
+"You should never judge by appearances," said White, with a fatherly
+severity.
+
+Marguerite pursed up her lips, and looked his stalwart frame up and
+down in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential
+manner, like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all
+the truth and more than the truth.
+
+"You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I
+knew you were in the hotel; saw your boots outside your door last
+night; knew they must be yours. You went to bed very early."
+
+"I have two pairs of boots," replied the major, darkly.
+
+"Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote
+for him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came.
+I told you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and
+that seems to be precisely where you are."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And so I have come over, and papa and I are going to put things
+straight."
+
+"I shouldn't if I were you."
+
+"Shouldn't what?" inquired Marguerite.
+
+"Shouldn't put other people's affairs straight. It does not pay,
+especially if other people happen to be up a gum-tree--make yourself
+all sticky, you know."
+
+Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. "Ah!" she said. "That's what--is
+it?"
+
+"That's what," admitted Major White.
+
+"That is the difference, I suppose, between a man and a woman," said
+Marguerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid
+for two. "A man looks on at things going--well, to the dogs--and smokes
+and thinks it isn't his business. A woman thinks the whole world is her
+business."
+
+"So it is, in a sense--it is her doing, at all events."
+
+Marguerite had turned to beckon to the waiter, and she paused to look
+back over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes.
+
+"Ah!" she said mystically.
+
+Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him "Kellner," and
+speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his
+native tongue.
+
+"I have told him," she explained to White, "to bring your little
+coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to
+this table."
+
+"So I understood."
+
+"Ah! Then you know German?" inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful
+glance.
+
+"I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German."
+
+Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver
+basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so
+different and taste so much alike.
+
+"Seems to me," she said confidentially, "that you know more than you
+appear to know."
+
+"Not such a fool as I look, in fact."
+
+"That is about the size of it," admitted Marguerite, gravely. "Tony
+always says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he
+is right."
+
+And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across
+the little table.
+
+"Tony often is right," said Major White.
+
+There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small
+coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt.
+The privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a
+certain pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.
+
+"Why is Tony so fond of The Hague? Who is Mrs. Vansittart?" she asked,
+without looking up.
+
+Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few minutes
+before answering.
+
+"Two questions don't make an answer."
+
+"Not these two questions?" asked Marguerite, with a sudden laugh.
+
+"No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, and what they usually call
+'charming,' I believe. She is clever, yes, very clever, and she was, I
+suppose, fond of Vansittart; and that is the whole story, I take it."
+
+"Not exactly a cheery story."
+
+"No true stories are," returned the major, gravely.
+
+But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdom--that huge wisdom of life
+as seen from the threshold--she did not believe Mrs. Vansittart's
+story.
+
+"Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the
+end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps
+Mrs. Vansittart--"
+
+
+"Won't do that," said the major, staring in a stupid way out of the
+window with vacant, short-sighted eyes. "Not even if Tony suggested
+it--which he won't do."
+
+"You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittart--that
+is what _you_ mean," said Marguerite, condescendingly. "Then why does
+he stay in The Hague?"
+
+Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence,
+broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for
+more bread and more butter. She looked at her companion once or twice,
+and it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must
+be as dense as he looked. It is a mistake that many of her sex have
+made regarding men.
+
+"Do you know Miss Roden?" she asked suddenly.
+"I have heard a good deal about her from Joan."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is she pretty?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very pretty?" persisted Marguerite.
+
+"Yes," replied the major.
+
+And they continued their breakfast in silence.
+
+Marguerite appeared to have something to think about. Major White was
+in the habit of stating that he never thought, and certainly
+appearances bore him out.
+
+"Your father is late," he said at length.
+
+"Yes," answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. "Because he was afraid to
+ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that
+Continental chambermaids always burst into your room if you ring the
+bell, whether the door is locked or not. He is nothing if not
+respectable, poor old dear--would give points to any bishop in the
+land."
+
+As she spoke her father came into the room, looking, as his daughter
+had stated eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major
+White, and seemed pleased to see him. The major was, in truth, a man
+after his own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade
+belonged to a solid generation that liked the andante of life to be
+played in good heavy chords, and looked with suspicious eyes upon
+brilliancy of execution or lightness of touch.
+
+"I have had a note from Cornish," he said, "who suggests a meeting at
+this hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side
+has, it appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to The Hague."
+There had in Mr. Wade's life usually been that "other side," which he
+had treated with a good, honest respect so long as they proved
+themselves worthy of it; but which he crushed the moment they forgot
+themselves. For there was in this British banker a vast spirit of
+honest, open antagonism by which he and his likes have built up a
+scattered empire on this planet. "At three o'clock," he concluded,
+lifting the cover of a silver dish which Marguerite had sent back to
+the kitchen awaiting her father's arrival. "And what will you do, my
+dear?" he said, turning to her.
+
+"I?" replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. "I shall take a
+carriage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes to see Dorothy Roden. I
+have a note for her from Joan."
+
+And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way
+diminished by the knowledge that the "other side" were about to take
+action.
+
+At three o'clock the carriage was awaiting Marguerite at the door of
+the hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking
+questions and absolutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen
+by the side of the "Queen's Canal." When at length she turned to get
+in, Tony Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for
+The Hague is the shadiest city in the world, with forest trees growing
+amid its great houses.
+
+"Ah!" said Marguerite, holding out her hand. "You see, I have come
+across to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have
+rather a spree."
+
+"The spree," replied Cornish, with his light laugh, "has already
+begun."
+
+Marguerite drove away towards The Hague Wood, and disappeared among the
+transparent green shadows of that wonderful forest. The man had been
+instructed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden
+Road, making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest
+outskirts of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of
+a man sitting upon a bench at the roadside reading a sheet of paper.
+
+"That," she said to herself, "is the Herr Professor--but I cannot
+remember his name."
+
+Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed, a woman usually
+stops an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed
+to let such bygones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive
+back again. The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed.
+He had the air of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the
+solitude of his position and the poetic surroundings which he had
+selected. A German, be it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of
+the beauties of nature, and would rather drink his beer before a fine
+outlook than in a comfortable chair indoors. When Marguerite returned,
+this man looked up again with the absorbed air of one repeating
+something in his mind. When he perceived that she was undoubtedly
+coming towards himself, he stood up and took off his hat. He was a
+small, square-built man, with upright hair turning to grey, and a
+quiet, thoughtful, clean-shaven face. His attitude, and indeed his
+person, dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the
+great Napoleon. His measuring glance--as if the eyes were weighing the
+face it looked upon--distinctly suggested his great prototype.
+
+"You do not remember me, Herr Professor," said Marguerite, holding out
+her hand with a frank laugh. "You have forgotten Dresden and the
+chemistry classes at Fraeulein Weber's?"
+
+"No, Fraeulein; I remember those classes," the professor answered, with
+a grave bow.
+
+"And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the
+something of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein
+Herr."
+
+"You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fraeulein. Yes, I
+remember now--Fraeulein Wade."
+
+"Yes, I am Marguerite Wade," she answered, looking at him with a little
+frown, "but I can't remember your name. You were always Herr Professor.
+And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry
+classes, you know; that was part of the--er--trick. We called water H2
+or something like that. We called you J.H.U, Herr Professor."
+
+"What does that mean, Fraeulein?"
+
+"Jolly hard up," returned Marguerite, with a laugh which suddenly gave
+place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confidential gravity. "You
+were poor then, mein Herr."
+
+"I have always been poor, Fraeulein, until now."
+
+But Marguerite's mind had already flown to other things. She was
+looking at him again with a frown of concentration.
+
+"I am beginning to remember your name," she said.
+
+"Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite
+forgotten both your face and your name, Herr ... Herr ... von Holz"--she
+broke off, and stepped back from him--"von Holzen," she said slowly. "Then
+you are the malgamite man?"
+
+"Yes, Fraeulein," he answered, with his grave smile; "I am the malgamite
+man."
+
+Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of
+the Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that
+came near him, against whom her own father and Tony Cornish and
+Major White and Mrs. Vansittart had been able to do nothing--who in
+face of all opposition continued calmly to make malgamite, and sell it
+daily to the world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of
+men's lives.
+
+"And you, Fraeulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade, the banker?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again,
+standing before her master.
+
+"And why are you in The Hague?"
+
+"Oh," replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her
+life, "to enlarge our minds, mein Herr." She was looking at the paper
+he held in his hand, and he saw the direction of her glance. In
+response, he laughed quietly, and held it out towards her.
+
+"Yes," he said, "you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the
+prescription for the manufacture of malgamite."
+
+She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual
+audacity, she opened it and began to read.
+
+"Ah," she said, "it is in Hebrew."
+
+Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which
+she gave to him. She was not afraid of the man--but she was very near
+to fear.
+
+"And I am sitting here, quietly under the trees, Fraeulein," he said,
+"learning it by heart."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT.
+
+"Un homme serieux est celui qui se croit regarde."
+
+
+When Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden's earnest desire that he
+should go to The Hague, he was conscious of conferring a distinct
+favour upon the Low Countries.
+
+"It is not a place one would choose to go to at this time of year," he
+said to a friend at the club. "In the winter, it is different; for the
+season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals."
+
+One of the numerous advantages attached to an hereditary title is the
+certainty that a hearer of some sort or another will always be
+forthcoming. A commoner finds himself snubbed or quietly abandoned so
+soon as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and platitudes is
+sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready
+and willing to be bored by a lord. A high-class club is, moreover, a
+very mushroom-bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have traveled
+quite a distance down the road of life, without finding out that it is
+bordered on either side by a series of small events not worth
+commenting upon, meet to discuss trivialities.
+
+"Truth is," said his lordship to one of these persons, "this Malgamite
+scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and
+carries with it certain responsibilities--yes, certain responsibilities."
+
+And he assumed a grave air of importance almost amounting to worry. For
+Lord Ferriby did not know that a worried look is an almost certain
+indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the
+greatest responsibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the
+burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world.
+
+It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at
+all uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one
+of the advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and
+willing to serve his party without too minute a scruple. For if the
+king can do no wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity
+from criticism, and those who have allowance made to them must
+inevitably learn to make allowance for themselves. Lord Ferriby was, in
+a word, too self-satisfied to harbour any doubts respecting his own
+conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of course, indolence in disguise.
+
+It was easy enough for Lord Ferriby to persuade himself that Cornish
+was wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most
+gentlemanly manner possible, paid a cheque, not to Lord Ferriby direct,
+but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus
+upon the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There
+are many people in the world who will accept money so long as their
+delicate susceptibilities are not offended by an actual sight of the
+cheque.
+
+"Anthony Cornish," said Lord Ferriby, pulling down his waistcoat, "like
+many men who have had neither training nor experience, does not quite
+understand the ethics of commerce."
+
+His lordship, like others, seemed to understand these to mean that a
+man may take anything that his neighbour is fool enough to part with.
+
+Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because, in the great
+march of social progress, she had passed on from charity to sanitation,
+and was convinced that the mortality among the malgamiters, which had
+been more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was entirely due
+to the negligence of the victims in not using an old disinfectant
+served up in artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash
+under another name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform
+greater sanitary wonders, because the world places faith in a new name,
+and faith is still the greatest healer of human ills.
+
+Joan, therefore, proposed to carry to The Hague the glad tidings of the
+sanitary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering
+world under the name of "Nuxine," in small bottles, at the price of one
+shilling and a penny halfpenny. The penny halfpenny, no doubt,
+represented the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon
+securing the stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the
+manufacturer's pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joan's world
+to smell of "Nuxine," which could also be had in the sweetest little
+blue tabloids, to place in the wardrobe and among one's clean clothes.
+Joan had given Major White a box of these tabloids, which gift had been
+accepted with becoming gravity. Indeed, the major seemed never to tire
+of hearing Joan's exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as
+she urged him to use "Nuxine" in its various forms, and it was only
+when he heard that cigar-holders made of "Nuxine" absorbed all the
+deleterious properties of tobacco that his stout heart failed him.
+
+"Yes," he pleaded, "but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue
+cigar-holder, you know."
+
+And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none
+other than "Nuxine" dentifrice.
+
+Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to The Hague, his lordship in
+the full conviction (enjoyed by so many useless persons) that his
+presence was in itself of beneficial effect upon the course of events,
+and Joan with her "Nuxine" and, in a minor degree now, her
+"Malgamiters" and her "Haberdashers' Assistants." Lady Ferriby
+preferred to remain at Cambridge Terrace, chiefly because it was
+cheaper, and also because the cook required a holiday, and, with a
+kitchen-maid only, she could indulge in her greatest pleasure--a
+useless economy. The cook refused to starve her fellow-servants, while
+the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written character in the future, did as
+her ladyship bade her--hashing and mincing in a manner quite
+irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer money.
+
+Major White met the travellers at The Hague station, and Joan, who had
+had some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was
+conscious for the first time of a sense of orderliness and rest in the
+presence of the stout soldier, who seemed to walk heavily over
+difficulties when they arose.
+
+"Eh--er," began his lordship, as they walked down the platform, "have
+you seen anything of Roden?"
+
+For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred a man to b keenly observant, and
+had as yet failed to detect Von Holzen behind and overshadowing his
+partner in the Malgamite scheme.
+
+"No--cannot say I have," replied the major.
+
+He had never discussed the malgamite affairs with Lord Ferriby.
+Discussion was, indeed, a pastime in which the major never indulged.
+His position in the matter was clearly enough defined, but he had no
+intention of explaining why it was that he ranged himself stolidly on
+Cornish's side in the differences that had arisen.
+
+Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a smouldering antagonism, but knew
+the major sufficiently well not to fear an outbreak of hostilities. Men
+who will face opposition may be divided into two classes--the one
+taking its stand upon a conscious rectitude, the other half-hiding with
+the cheap and transparent cunning of the ostrich. Many men, also, are
+in the fortunate condition of believing themselves to be invariably
+right unless they are told quite plainly that they are wrong. And there
+was nobody to tell Lord Ferriby this. Cornish, with a sort of respect
+for the head of the family--a regard for the office irrespective of its
+holder--was so far from wishing to convince his uncle of error that he
+voluntarily relinquished certain strong points in his position rather
+than strike a blow that would inevitably reach Lord Ferriby, though
+directed towards Roden or Von Holzen.
+
+Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were
+in The Hague.
+
+"A worthy man--a very worthy man," he said abstractedly; for he looked
+upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain
+minds by uncompromising honesty.
+
+The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared
+for them. There were flowers in Joan's room, which her maid said she
+had rearranged, so awkwardly had they been placed in the vase. The
+Wades, it appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not
+returning to lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that
+meal at Mrs. Vansittart's.
+
+"I think," said Lord Ferriby, "that I shall go down to the works."
+
+"Yes, do," answered White, with an expressionless countenance.
+
+"Perhaps you will accompany me?" suggested Joan's father.
+
+"No--think not. Can't hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like to
+see the Palace in the Wood."
+
+Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the malgamite works, and
+murmured the word "Nuxine," without, however, much enthusiasm; but
+White happened to remember that it was mixing-day. So Lord Ferriby went
+off alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the
+first; for White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did
+Cornish.
+
+The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no
+doubt, satisfactory enough, for the manufacture of malgamite had been
+proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Holzen had, as he told
+Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-master.
+He was not going to be poor again. The grey carts had been passing up
+and down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or
+other of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house,
+a gleam of anger to Mrs. Vansittart's eyes.
+
+"The scoundrels!" she muttered. "The scoundrels! Why does not Tony
+act?"
+
+But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's
+determination not to be frustrated, could not act--for Dorothy's sake.
+
+A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party
+assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and
+Mr. Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in
+this city of large and spotless windows. Dorothy and Cornish were
+talking together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was
+supposed to be looking at a book of photographs.
+
+"There goes a consignment of men's lives," said Mrs. Vansittart to her
+companion.
+
+"A human life, madam," answered the banker, "like all else on earth,
+varies much in value." For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of
+Englishmen which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak
+its good actions by the assumption of an unworthy motive. And who shall
+say that this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us
+has not a few friends and relations who can only have been created as a
+solemn warning?
+
+As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined
+them, slipping her hand within her father's arm with that air of
+protection which she usually assumed towards him. She was gay and
+lively, as she ever was, and Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her more than
+once with a sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always
+understand Marguerite or her English, which was essentially modern.
+
+They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly
+drew them back.
+
+"What is it?" asked Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"It is Lord Ferriby," replied Marguerite.
+
+And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great
+man drive past in his hired carriage. "He has recently bought Park
+Straat," commented Marguerite.
+
+And his lordship's condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that
+the street, if not the whole city, belonged to him.
+
+Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb in the direction in which Lord
+Ferriby was driving.
+
+"Where is he going?" he asked bluntly.
+
+"To the malgamite works," replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance.
+And Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first.
+
+"I asked Major White," she said, "to lunch with us to-day, but he was
+pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see
+them installed at their hotel."
+
+"Ah!" said Mr. Wade.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy,
+allowed some moments to elapse before she again spoke.
+
+"Major White," she then observed, "does not accompany Lord Ferriby to
+the malgamite works."
+
+"Major White," replied Marguerite, demurely, "has other fish to fry."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+CLEARING THE AIR
+
+"It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be entirely good."
+
+
+Percy Roden, who had been to Utrecht and Antwerp, arrived home on the
+evening of the day that saw Lord Ferriby's advent to The Hague. Though
+the day had been fine enough, the weather broke up at sunset, and great
+clouds chased the sun towards the west. Then the rain came suddenly and
+swept across the plains in a slanting fury. A cold wind from the
+south-east followed hard upon the heavy clouds, and night came in a
+chaos of squall and beating rain. Roden was drenched in his passage
+from the carriage to the Villa des Dunes, which, being a summer
+residence, had not been provided with a carriage-drive across the dunes
+from the road. He looked at his sister with tired eyes when she met him
+in the entrance-hall. He was worn and thinner than she had seen him in
+the days of his adversity, for Percy Roden, like his partner, had made
+several false starts upon the road to fortune before he got well away.
+Like many--like, indeed, nearly all--who have to try again, he had
+lightened himself of a scruple or so each time he turned back.
+Prosperity, however, seems to kill as many as adversity. Abundant
+wealth is a vexation of spirit to-day as surely as it was in the time
+of that wise man who, having tried it, said that a stranger eateth it,
+and it is vanity.
+
+"Beastly night," said Roden, and that was all. He had been to Antwerp
+on banking business, and had that sleepless look which brings a glitter
+to the eyes. This was a man handling great sums of money. "Von Holzen
+been here to-day?" he asked, when he had changed his clothes, and they
+were seated at the dinner-table.
+
+"No," answered Dorothy, with her eyes on his plate.
+
+He was eating little, and drank only mineral water from a stone bottle.
+He was like an athlete in training, though the strain he sought to meet
+was mental and not physical. He shivered more than once, and glanced
+sharply at the door when the maid happened to leave it open.
+
+When Dorothy went to the drawing-room she lighted the fire, which was
+ready laid, and of wood. Although it was nearly midsummer, the air was
+chilly, and the rain beat against the thin walls of the house.
+
+"I think it probable," Roden had said, before she left the dining-room,
+"that Von Holzen will come in this evening."
+
+She sat down before the fire, which burnt briskly, and looked into it
+with thoughtful, clever grey eyes. Percy thought it probable that Von
+Holzen would come to the Villa des Dunes this evening. Would he come?
+For Percy knew nothing of the organized attempt on Cornish's life which
+she herself had frustrated. He seemed to know nothing of the grim and
+silent antagonism that existed between the two men, shutting his eyes
+to their movements, which were like the movements of chess-players that
+the onlooker sees but does not understand. Dorothy knew that Von Holzen
+was infinitely cleverer than her brother. She knew, indeed, that he was
+cleverer than most men. With the quickness of her sex, she had long ago
+divined the source and basis of his strength. He was indifferent to
+women--who formed no part of his life, who entered in no way into his
+plans or ambitions. Being a woman, she should, theoretically, have
+disliked and despised him for this. As a matter of fact, the
+characteristic commanded her respect.
+
+She knew that her brother was not in Von Holzen's confidence. It was
+probable that no man on earth had ever come within measurable distance
+of that. He would, in all likelihood, hear nothing of the attempt to
+kill Cornish, and Cornish himself would be the last to mention it. For
+she knew that her lover was a match for Von Holzen, and more than a
+match. She had never doubted that. It was a part of her creed. A woman
+never really loves a man until she has made him the object of a creed.
+And it is only the man himself who can--and in the long run usually
+does--make it impossible for her to adhere to her belief.
+
+She was still sitting and thinking over the fire when her brother came
+into the room.
+
+"Ah!" he said at the sight of the fire, and came forward, holding out
+his hands to the blaze. He looked down at his sister with glittering
+and unsteady eyes. He was in a dangerous humour--a humour for
+explanations and admissions--to which weak natures sometimes give way.
+And, looking at the matter practically and calmly, explanations and
+admissions are better left--to the hereafter. But Von Holzen saved him
+by ringing the front-door bell at that moment.
+
+The professor came into the room a minute later. He stood in the
+doorway, and bowed in the stiff German way to Dorothy. With Roden he
+exchanged a curt nod. His hair was glued to his temples by the rain,
+which gleamed on his face.
+
+"It is an abominable night," he said, coming forward. "Ach, Fraeulein,
+please do not leave us--and the fire," he added; for Dorothy had risen.
+"I merely came to make sure that he had arrived safely home." He took
+the chair offered to him by Roden, and sat on it without bringing it
+forward. He had but little of that self-assurance which is so highly
+cultivated to-day as to be almost offensive. "There are, of course,
+matters of business," he said, "which can wait till to-morrow.
+To-night you are tired." He looked at Roden as a doctor may look at a
+patient. "Is it not so, Fraeulein?" he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Except one or two--which we may discuss now."
+
+Dorothy turned and glanced at him. He was looking at her, and their
+eyes met for a moment. He seemed to see something in her face that made
+him thoughtful, for he remained silent for some time, while he wiped
+the rain from his face with his pocket-handkerchief. It was a pale,
+determined face, which could hardly fail to impress those with whom he
+came in contact as the face of a strong man.
+
+"Lord Ferriby has been at the works to-day," he said; and then, with a
+gesture of the hands and a shrug, he described Lord Ferriby as a
+nonentity. "He went through the works, and looked over your books. I
+wrote out a sort of certificate of his satisfaction with both, and--he
+signed it."
+
+Roden was leaning forward over the fire with a cigarette between his
+lips. He nodded shortly. "Good," he said.
+
+"Yesterday," continued Von Holzen, "I met an old acquaintance--a Miss
+Wade--one of the young ladies of a Pensionnat at Dresden, in which I
+taught at one time. She is a daughter of the banker Wade, and told me,
+reluctantly, that she is at The Hague with her father--a friend of
+Cornish's. This morning I took a walk on the sands at Scheveningen;
+there was a large fat man, among others, bathing at the Northern
+bathing-station. It was Major White. It is a regular gathering of the
+clans. I saw a German paper-maker--a big man in the trade--on the
+Kursaal terrace this morning. It may be a mere chance, and it may not."
+
+As he spoke he had withdrawn from his pocket a folded paper, which he
+was fingering thoughtfully. Dorothy, who knew that she had by her looks
+unwittingly warned him, made no motion to go now. He would say nothing
+that he did not deliberately intend for her ears as much as for her
+brother's. Von Holzen opened the paper slowly, and looked at it as if
+every line of it was familiar. It was a sheet of ordinary foolscap
+covered with minute figures and writing.
+
+"It is the Vorschrift, the--how do you say?--prescription for the
+malgamite, and there are several in The Hague at this moment who want
+it, and some who would not be too scrupulous in their methods of
+procuring it. It is for this that they are gathering--here in The
+Hague."
+
+Roden turned in his leisurely way, and looked over his shoulder towards
+the paper. Von Holzen glanced at Dorothy. He had no desire to keep her
+in suspense, but he wished to know how much she knew. She looked into
+the fire, treating his conversation as directed towards her brother
+only.
+
+"I tried for ten years in vain to get this," continued Von Holzen, "and
+at last a dying man dictated it to me. For years it lived in the brain
+of one man only--and he a maker of it himself. He might have died at
+any moment with that secret in his head. And I,"--he folded the paper
+slowly and shrugged his shoulders--"I watched him. And the last
+intelligible word he spoke on earth was the last word of this
+prescription. The man can have been no fool; for he was a man of little
+education. I never respected him so much as I do now when I have learnt
+it myself." He rose and walked to the fire. "You permit me, Fraeulein,"
+he said, putting the logs together with his foot.
+
+They burnt up brightly, and he threw the paper upon them. In a moment
+it was reduced to ashes. He turned slowly upon his heel, and looked at
+his companions with the grave smile of one who had never known much
+mirth.
+
+"There," he said, touching his forehead, with one finger; "it is in
+the brain of one man--once more." He returned to the chair he had just
+vacated. "And whosoever wishes to stop the manufacture of malgamite
+will need to stop that brain," he said, with a soft laugh. "Of course
+there is a risk attached to burning that paper," he continued, after a
+pause. "My brain may go--a little clot of blood no bigger than a pin's
+head, and the greatest brain on earth is so much pulp! It may be worth
+some one's while to kill me. It is so often worth some one's while to
+kill somebody else, even at a considerable risk--but the courage is
+nearly always lacking. However, we must run these risks."
+
+He rose from his chair with a low and rather pleasant laugh, glancing
+at the clock as he did so. It was evidently his intention to take his
+leave. Dorothy rose also, and they stood for a moment facing each
+other. He was a few inches above her stature, and he looked down at her
+with his slow, thoughtful eyes. He seemed always to be making a
+diagnosis of the souls of men.
+
+"I know, Fraeulein," he said, "That you are one of those who dislike me,
+and seek to do me harm. I am sorry. It is long since I discarded a
+youthful belief that it was possible to get on in life without arousing
+ill feeling. Believe me, it is impossible even to hold one's own in
+this world without making enemies. There are two sides to every
+question, Fraeulein--remember that."
+
+He brought his heels together, bowed stiffly, from the waist, in his
+formal manner, and left the room. Percy Roden followed him, leaving the
+door open. Dorothy heard the rustle of his dripping waterproof as he
+put it on, the click of the door, the sound of his firm retreating
+tread on the gravel. Then her brother came back into the room. His
+rather weak face was flushed. His eyes were unsteady. Dorothy saw this
+in a glance, and her own face hardened unresponsively. The situation
+was clearly enough defined in her own mind. Von Holzen had destroyed
+the prescription before her on purpose. It was only a move in that game
+of life which is always extending to a new deal, and of which women as
+onlookers necessarily see the most. Von Holzen wished Cornish, and
+others concerned, to know that he had destroyed the prescription. It
+was a concession in disguise--a retrograde movement--perhaps _pour
+mieux sauter_.
+
+Percy Roden was one of those men who have a grudge against the world.
+The most hopeless ill-doer is he who excuses himself angrily. There are
+some who seem unconscious of their own failings, and for these there is
+hope. They may some day find out that it is better to be at peace with
+the world even at the cost of a little self-denial. But Percy Roden
+admitted that he was wrong, and always had that sort of excuse which
+seeks to lay the blame upon a whole class--upon other business men, upon
+those in authority, upon women.
+
+"It is excused in others, why not in me?"--the last cry of the
+ne'er-do-well.
+
+He glanced angrily at Dorothy now. But he was always half afraid of
+her.
+
+"I wish we had never come to this place," he said.
+
+"Then let us go away from it," answered Dorothy, "before it is too
+late."
+
+Roden looked at her in surprise. Did she expect him to go away now from
+Mrs. Vansittart? He knew, of course, that Dorothy and the world always
+expected too much from him.
+
+"Before it is too late. What do you mean?" he asked, still thinking of
+Mrs. Vansittart.
+
+"Before the Malgamite scheme is exposed," replied Dorothy, bluntly.
+And, to her surprise, he laughed.
+
+"I thought you meant something else," he said. "The Malgamite scheme
+can look after itself. Von Holzen is the cleverest man I know, and he
+knows what he is doing. I thought you meant Mrs. Vansittart--were
+thinking of her."
+
+"No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Vansittart."
+
+"Not worth thinking about," suggested Roden, adhering to his method of
+laughing for fear of being laughed at, which is common enough in very
+young men; but Roden should have outgrown it by this time.
+
+"Not seriously."
+
+"What do you mean, Dorothy?"
+
+"That I hope you do not think seriously of asking Mrs. Vansittart to
+marry you."
+
+Roden gave his rather unpleasant laugh again. "It happens that I do,"
+he replied. "And it happens that I know that Mrs. Vansittart never
+stays in The Hague in summer when all the houses are empty and
+everybody is away, and the place is given up to tourists, and becomes a
+mere annex to Scheveningen. This year she has stayed--why, I should
+like to know."
+
+And he stroked his moustache as he looked into the fire. He had been
+indulging in the vain pleasure of putting two and two together. A young
+man's vanity--or indeed any man's vanity--is not to be trusted to work
+out that simple addition correctly. Percy Roden was still in a
+dangerously exalted frame of mind. There is no intoxication so
+dangerous as that of success, and none that leaves so bitter a taste
+behind it.
+
+"Of course," he said, "no girl ever thinks that her brother can succeed
+in such a case. I suppose you dislike Mrs. Vansittart?"
+
+"No; I like her, and I understand her, perhaps better than you do. I
+should like nothing better than that she should marry you, but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"Well, ask her," replied Dorothy--a woman's answer.
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then let us go away from here."
+
+Roden turned on her angrily. "Why do you keep on repeating that?" he
+cried. "Why do you want to go away from here?"
+
+"Because," replied Dorothy, as angry as himself, "you know as well as I
+do that the Malgamite scheme is not what it pretends to be. I suppose
+you are making a fortune and are dazzled, or else you are being
+deceived by Herr von Holzen, or else----"
+
+"Or else----" echoed Roden, with a pale face. "Yes--go on." But she bit
+her lip and was silent. "It is an open secret," she went on after a
+pause. "Everybody knows that it is a disgrace or worse--perhaps a
+crime. If you have made a fortune, be content with what you have made,
+and clear yourself of the whole affair."
+
+"Not I."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because I am going to make more. And I am going to marry Mrs.
+Vansittart. It is only a question of money. It always is with women.
+And not one in a hundred cares how the money is made."
+
+Which, of course, is not true; for no woman likes to see her husband's
+name on a biscuit or a jam-pot.
+
+"Of course," went on Percy, in his anger. "I know which side you take,
+since you are talking of open secrets. At any rate, Von Holzen knows
+yours--if it is a secret--for he has hinted at it more than once.
+You think that it is I who have been deceived or who deceive myself.
+You are just as likely to be wrong. You place your whole faith in
+Cornish. You think that Cornish cannot do wrong."
+
+Dorothy turned and looked at him. Her eyes were steady, but the color
+left her face, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say.
+
+"Yes," she said. "I do."
+
+"And without a moment's hesitation," went on Roden, hurriedly, "you
+would sacrifice everything for the sake of a man you had never seen six
+months ago?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Even your own brother?"
+
+"Yes," answered Dorothy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE ULTIMATUM.
+
+"Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est celui qui
+sait attendre."
+
+
+"If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear," said
+Marguerite Wade, sententiously, "that is exactly where your toes turn
+in."
+
+She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly
+veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready
+to throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the
+quiet old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees,
+within the peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major
+White was sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light
+tweed suit and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago,
+but no man surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which
+distinguishes men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from
+time to time glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at
+Joan.
+
+"Major White," said Marguerite.
+"Yes."
+
+"Greengage, please."
+
+The greengages were on a table at the major's elbow, having been placed
+there at Marguerite's command by the waiter who attended them at
+breakfast. White made ready to pass the dish.
+
+"Fingers," said Marguerite. "Heave one over."
+
+White selected one with an air of solemn resignation. Marguerite caught
+the greengage as neatly as it was thrown.
+
+"What do you think of Herr von Holzen?" she asked.
+
+"To think," replied the Major, "certain requisites are necessary."
+
+"Um--m."
+
+"I do not know Herr von Holzen, and I have nothing to think with," he
+explained gravely.
+
+"Well, you soon will know him, and I dare say if you tried you would
+find that you are not so stupid as you pretend to be. You are going
+down to the works this morning with Papa and Tony Cornish. I know that,
+because papa told me."
+
+The Major looked at her with his air of philosophic surprise. She held
+up her hand for a catch, and with resignation he threw her another
+greengage.
+
+"Tony is going to call for you in a carriage at ten o'clock, and you
+three old gentlemen are going to drive in an open barouche with cigars,
+like a bean feast, to the malgamite works."
+
+"The description is fairly accurate," admitted Major White, without
+looking up from his paper.
+
+"And I imagine you are going to raise--Hail Columbia!"
+
+He looked at her severely through his glass, and said nothing. She
+nodded in a friendly and encouraging manner, as if to intimate that he
+had her entire approval.
+
+"Take my word for it," she continued, turning to Joan, "Herr von Holzen
+is a shady customer. I know a shady customer when I see him. I never
+thought much of the malgamite business, you know, but unfortunately
+nobody asked my opinion on the matter. I wonder----" She paused,
+looking thoughtfully at Major White, who presently met her glance with
+a stolid stare. "Of course!" she said, in a final voice. "I forgot.
+You never think. You can't. Oh no!"
+
+"It is so easy to misjudge people," pleaded Joan, earnestly.
+
+"It is much easier to see right through them, straight off, in the
+twinkling of a bedpost," asserted Marguerite. "You will see, Herr von
+Holzen is wrong and Tony is right. And Tony will smash him up.
+You will see. Tony"--she paused, and looked up at the roof where the
+doves were cooing--"Tony knows his way about."
+
+Major White rose and laid aside his paper. Mr. Wade was coming down the
+iron steps that led from the verandah to the garden. The banker was
+cutting a cigar, and wore a placid, comfortable look, as if he had
+breakfasted well. Even as regards kidneys and bacon in a foreign hotel,
+where there is a will there is a way, and Marguerite possessed tongues.
+"I'll turn this place inside out," she had said, "to get the old thing
+what he wants." Then she attacked the waiter in fluent German.
+
+Marguerite noted his approach with a protecting eye. "It's all solid
+common sense," she said in an undertone to Joan, referring, it would
+appear, to his bulk.
+
+In only one respect was she misinformed as to the arrangements for the
+morning. Tony Cornish was not coming to the hotel to fetch Mr. Wade and
+White, but was to meet them in the shadiest of all thoroughfares and
+green canals, the Koninginne Gracht, where at midday the shadows cast
+by the great trees are so deep that daylight scarcely penetrates, and
+the boats creep to and fro like shadows. This amendment had been made
+in view of the fact that Lord Ferriby was in the hotel, and was,
+indeed, at this moment partaking of a solemn breakfast in his private
+sitting-room overlooking the Toornoifeld.
+
+His lordship did not, therefore, see these two solid pillars of the
+British constitution walk across the corner of the Korte Voorhout,
+cigar in lip, in a placid silence begotten, perhaps, of the knowledge
+that, should an emergency arise, they were of a material that would
+arise to meet it.
+
+Cornish was awaiting them by the bank of the canal. He was watching a
+boat slowly work its way past him. It was one of the large boats built
+for traffic on the greater canals and the open waters of the Scheldt
+estuary. It was laden from end to end with little square boxes bearing
+only a number and a port mark in black stencil. A pleasant odor of
+sealing-wax dominated the weedy smell of the canal.
+
+"Wherever you turn you meet the stuff," was Cornish's greeting to the
+two Englishmen.
+
+Major White, with his delicate sense of smell, sniffed the breeze. Mr.
+Wade looked at the canal-boat with a nod. Commercial enterprise, and,
+above all, commercial success, commanded his honest respect.
+
+They entered the carriage awaiting them beneath the trees. Cornish was,
+as usual, quick and eager, a different type from his companions, who
+were not brilliant as he was, nor polished.
+
+They found the gates of the malgamite works shut, but the door-keeper,
+knowing Cornish to be a person of authority, threw them open and
+directed the driver to wait outside till the gentlemen should return.
+The works were quiet and every door was closed.
+
+"Is it mixing-day?" asked Cornish.
+
+"Every day is mixing-day now, mein Herr, and there are some who work
+all night as well. If the gentlemen will wait a moment, I will seek
+Herr Roden."
+
+And he left them standing beneath the brilliant sun in the open space
+between the gate and the cottage where Von Holzen lived. In a few
+moments he returned, accompanied by Percy Roden, who emerged from the
+office in his shirt-sleeves, pen in hand. He shook hands with Cornish
+and White, glanced at Mr. Wade, and half bowed. He did not seem glad to
+see them.
+
+"We want to look at your books," said Cornish. "I suppose you will make
+no objection?" Roden bit his moustache and looked at the point of his
+pen.
+
+"You and Major White?" he suggested.
+
+"And this gentleman, who comes as our financial advisor."
+
+Roden raised his eyebrows rather insolently. "Ah--may I ask who this
+gentleman is?" he said.
+
+"My name is Wade," answered the banker, characteristically for himself.
+
+Roden's face changed, and he glanced at the great financier with a keen
+interest.
+
+"I have no objection," he said after a moment's hesitation. "If Von
+Holzen will agree. I will go and ask him."
+
+And they were left alone in the sunshine once more. Mr. Wade watched
+Roden as he walked towards the factory.
+
+"Not the sort of man I expected," he commented. "But he has the right
+shaped head for figures. He is shrewd enough to know that he cannot
+refuse, so gives in with a good grace."
+
+In a few minutes Von Holzen approached them, emerging from the factory
+alone. He bowed politely, but did not offer to shake hands. He had not
+seen Cornish since the evening when he had offered to make malgamite
+before him, and the experiment had taken such a deadly turn. He looked
+at him now and found his glance returned by an illegible smile. The
+question flashed through his mind and showed itself on his face as to
+why Roden had made such a mistake as to introduce a man like this into
+the Malgamite scheme. Von Holzen invited the gentlemen into the office.
+"It is small, but it will accommodate us," he said, with a smile.
+
+He drew forward chairs, and offered one to Cornish in particular, with
+a grim deference. He seemed to have divined that their last meeting in
+this same office had been, by tacit understanding, kept a secret.
+There is for some men a certain satisfaction in antagonism, and a stern
+regard for a strong foe--which reached its culmination, perhaps, in
+that Saxon knight who desired to be buried in the same chapel as his
+lifelong foe--between him, indeed, and the door--so that at the
+resurrection day they should not miss each other.
+
+Von Holzen seemed to have somewhat of this feeling for Cornish. He
+offered him the best seat at the table. Roden was taking his books from
+a safe--huge ledgers bound in green pigskin, slim cash-books,
+cloth-bound journals. He named them as he laid them on the table before
+Mr. Wade. Major White looked at the great tomes with solemn and silent
+awe. Mr. Wade was already fingering his gold pencil-case. He eyed the
+closed books with an anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his face--as a
+commander may eye the arrayed squadrons of the foe.
+
+"It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in
+confidence?" said Von Holzen. "For your own satisfaction, and not in
+any sense for publication. It is a trade secret."
+
+"Of course," answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
+"We trust to the honor of these gentlemen."
+
+Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes.
+"Yes," he said.
+
+Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the
+iron mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the
+table--especially at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face
+wore a careless smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness
+of the books testified to the fact that he always worked in
+shirt-sleeves. It was a trick of the trade, which exonerated him from
+the necessity of apologizing.
+
+Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with
+his fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed
+to recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet
+of neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
+unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
+
+"Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March," he said.
+
+Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were
+like copper-plate--an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
+final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid
+it aside. Then, he turned to the slim cash-books, which he glanced at
+casually. The journals he set aside without opening. He handled the
+books with a sort of skill showing that he knew how to lift them with
+the least exertion, how to open them and close them and turn their
+stiff pages. The enormous mass of figures did not seem to appal him;
+the maze was straight enough beneath such skillful eyes. Finally, he
+turned to a small locked ledger, of which the key was attached to
+Roden's watch-chain, who came forward and unlocked the book. Mr. Wade
+turned to the index at the beginning of the volume, found a certain
+account, and opened the book there. At the sight of the figures he
+raised his eyebrow and glanced up at Roden.
+
+"Whew!" he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He had arrived at his
+destination--had torn the heart out of these great books. All in the
+room were watching his placid, shrewd old face. He studied the books
+for some time and then took a sheet of blank paper from a number of
+such attached by a string to a corner of the table. He reflected for
+some minutes, pushing the movable part of his gold pencil in and out
+pensively as he did so. Then he wrote a number of figures on the sheet
+of paper and handed it to Cornish. He closed the locked ledger with a
+snap. The audit of the malgamite books was over.
+
+"It is a wonderful piece of single-handed bookkeeping," he said to
+Roden.
+
+Cornish was studying the paper set before him by the banker. The
+proceedings seemed to have been prearranged, for no word was exchanged.
+There was no consultation on either side. Finally, Cornish folded the
+paper and tore it into a hundred pieces in scrupulous adherence to Von
+Holzen's conditions. Mr. Wade was sitting back in his chair
+thoughtfully amusing himself with his gold pencil-case. Cornish looked
+at him for a moment, and then spoke, addressing Von Holzen.
+
+"We came here to make a final proposal to you," he said; "to place
+before you, in fact, our ultimatum. We do not pretend to conceal from
+you the fact that we are anxious to avoid all publicity, all scandal.
+But if you drive us to it, we shall unhesitatingly face both in order
+to close these works. We do not want the Malgamite scheme to be dragged
+as a charity in the mud, because it will inevitably drag other
+charities with it. There are certain names connected with the scheme
+which we should prefer; moreover, to keep from the clutches of the
+cheaper democratic newspapers. We know the weakness of our position.
+
+"And we know the strength of ours," put in Von Holzen, quietly.
+
+"Yes. We recognize that also. You have hitherto slipped in between
+international laws, and between the laws of men. Legally, we should
+have difficulty in getting at you, but it can be done. Financially----"
+He paused, and looked at Mr. Wade.
+
+"Financially," said the banker, without lifting his eyes from his
+pencil case, "we shall in the long run inevitably smash you--though the
+books are all right."
+
+Roden smiled, with his long white fingers at his moustache.
+
+"From the figures supplied to me by Mr. Wade," continued Cornish, "I
+see that there is an enormous profit lying idle--so large a profit that
+even between ourselves it is better not mentioned. There are, or there
+were yesterday, two hundred and ninety-two malgamite makers in active
+work."
+
+Von Holzen made an involuntary movement, and Cornish looked at him over
+the pile of books. "Oh!" he said, "I know that. And I know the number
+of deaths. Perhaps you have not kept count, but I have. From the
+figures supplied by Mr. Wade, I see, therefore, that we have sufficient
+to pension off these two hundred and ninety-two men and their
+families--giving each man one hundred and twenty pounds a year. We can
+also make provision for the widows and orphans out of the sum I propose
+to withdraw from the profits. There will then be left a sum
+representing two large fortunes--of say between three and four thousand
+a year each. Will you and Mr. Roden accept this sum, dividing it as you
+think fit, and hand over the works to me? We ask, you to take it--no
+questions asked, and go."
+
+"And Lord Ferriby?" suggested Von Holzen.
+
+Major White made a sudden movement, but Cornish laid his hand quickly
+upon the soldier's arm.
+
+"I will manage Lord Ferriby. What is your answer?"
+
+"No," replied Von Holzen, instantly, as if he had long known what the
+ultimatum would be.
+
+Cornish turned interrogatively to Roden. His eyes urged Roden to
+accept.
+
+"No," was the reply.
+
+Mr. Wade took out his large gold watch and looked at it.
+
+"Then there is no need," he said composedly, "to detain these gentlemen
+any longer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+COMMERCE.
+
+"The world will not believe a man repents.
+And this wise world of ours is mainly right."
+
+
+"Then you are of opinion, my dear White, that one cannot well refuse to
+meet these--er--persons?"
+
+"Not," replied Major White to Lord Ferriby, whose hand rested on his
+stout arm as they walked with dignity in the shade of the trees that
+border the Vyver--that quaint old fish-pond of The Hague--"not without
+running the risk of being called a d----d swindler."
+
+For the major was a lamentably plain-spoken man, who said but little,
+and said that little strong. Lord Ferriby's affectionate grasp of the
+soldier's arm relaxed imperceptibly. One must, he reflected, be
+prepared to meet unpleasantness in the good cause of charity--but there
+are words hardly applicable to the peerage, and Major White had made
+use of one of these.
+
+"Public opinion," observed the major, after some minutes of deep
+thought, "is a difficult thing to deal with--'cos you cannot thump the
+public."
+
+"It is notably hard," said his lordship, firing off one of his pet
+platform platitudes, "to induce the public to form a correct estimate,
+or what one takes to be a correct estimate."
+
+"Especially of one's self," added the major, looking across the water
+towards the Binnenhof in his vacant way.
+
+Then they turned and walked back again beneath the heavy shade of the
+trees. The conversation, and indeed this dignified promenade on the
+Vyverberg, had been brought about by a letter which his lordship had
+received that same morning inviting him to attend a meeting of
+paper-makers and others interested in the malgamite trade to consider
+the position of the malgamite charity, and the advisability of taking
+legal proceedings to close the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. The
+meeting was to be held at the Hotel des Indes, at three in the
+afternoon, and the conveners hinted pretty plainly that the proceedings
+would be of a decisive nature. The letter left Lord Ferriby with a
+vague feeling of discomfort. His position was somewhat isolated. A
+coldness had for some time been in existence between himself and his
+nephew, Tony Cornish. Of Mr. Wade, Lord Ferriby was slightly
+distrustful.
+
+"These commercial men," he often said, "are apt to hold such narrow
+views."
+
+And, indeed, to steer a straight course through life, one must not look
+to one side or the other.
+
+There remained Major White, of whom Lord Ferriby had thought more
+highly since Fortune had called this plain soldier to take a seat among
+the gods of the British public. For no man is proof against the
+satisfaction of being able to call a celebrated person by his Christian
+name. The major had long admired Joan, in his stupid way from, as one
+might say, the other side of the room. But neither Lord nor Lady
+Ferriby had encouraged this silent suit. Joan was theoretically one of
+those of whom it is said that "she might marry anybody," and who, as
+the keen observer may see for himself, often finishes by failing to
+marry at all. She was pretty and popular, and had, moreover, the
+_entree_ to the best houses. White had been useful to Lord Ferriby ever
+since the inauguration of the Malgamite scheme. He was not
+uncomfortably clever, like Tony Cornish. He was an excellent buffer at
+jarring periods. Since the arrival of Joan and her father at The Hague,
+the major had been almost a necessity in their daily life, and now,
+quite suddenly, Lord Ferriby found that this was the only person to
+whom he could turn for advice or support.
+
+"One cannot suppose," he said, in the full conviction that words will
+meet any emergency--"One cannot suppose that Von Holzen will act in
+direct opposition to the voice of the majority."
+
+"Von Holzen," replied the major, "plays a doocid good game."
+
+After luncheon they walked across the Toornoifeld to the Hotel des
+Indes, and there, in a small _salon_, found a number of gentlemen
+seated round a table. Mr. Wade was conspicuous by his absence. They
+had, indeed, left him in the hotel garden, sitting at the consumption
+of an excellent cigar.
+
+"Join the jocund dance?" the major had inquired, with a jerk of the
+head towards the Hotel des Indes. But Mr. Wade was going for a drive
+with Marguerite.
+
+Tony Cornish was, however, seated at the table, and the major
+recognized two paper-makers whom he had seen before. One was an
+aggressive, red-headed man, of square shoulders and a dogged
+appearance, who had "radical" written all over him. The other was a
+mild-mannered person, with a thin, ash-colored moustache.
+The major nodded affably. He distinctly remembered offering to fight
+these two gentlemen either together or one after the other on the
+landing of the little malgamite office in Westminster. And there was a
+faint twinkle behind the major's eyeglass as he saluted them.
+
+"Good morning, Thompson," he said. "How do, MacHewlett?" For he never
+forgot a face or a name.
+
+"A'hm thinking----" Mr. MacHewlett was observing, but his thoughts died
+a natural death at the sight of a real lord, and he rose and bowed. Mr.
+Thompson remained seated and made that posture as aggressive and
+obvious as possible. The remainder of the company were of varied
+nationality and appearance, while one, a Frenchman of keen dark eyes
+and a trim beard--seemed by tacit understanding to be the acknowledged
+leader. Even the pushing Mr. Thompson silently deferred to him by a
+gesture that served at once to introduce Lord Ferriby and invite the
+Frenchman to up and smite him.
+
+Lord Ferriby took the seat that had been left vacant for him at the
+head of the table. He looked around upon faces not too friendly.
+"We were saying, my lord," said the Frenchman, in perfect English and
+with that graceful tact which belongs to France alone, "that we have
+all been the victims of an unfortunate chain of misunderstandings.
+Had the organizers of this great charity consulted a few paper-makers
+before inaugurating the works at Scheveningen, much unpleasantness
+ might have been averted, many lives might, alas, have been spared.
+But--well--such mundane persons as ourselves were probably unknown to
+you and unthought-of; the milk is spilt, is it not so? Let us rather
+think of the future."
+
+Lord Ferriby bowed graciously, and Mr. Thompson moved impatiently on
+his chair. The suave method had no attractions for him.
+
+"A'hm thinking," began Mr. MacHewlett, in his most plaintive voice, and
+commanded so sudden and universal an attention as to be obviously
+disconcerted, "his lordship'll need plainer speech than that," he
+muttered hastily, and subsided, with an uneasy glance in the direction
+of that man of action, Major White.
+
+"One misunderstanding has, however, been happily dispelled," said the
+Frenchman, "by our friend--if monsieur will permit the word--our friend,
+Mr. Cornish. From this gentleman we have learned that the executive of
+the Malgamite Charity are not by any means in harmony with the
+executive of the malgamite works at Scheveningen; that, indeed, the
+charity repudiates the action of its servants in manufacturing
+malgamite by a dangerous process tacitly and humanely set aside by
+makers up to this time; that the administrators of the fund are no
+party to the 'corner' which has been established in the product; do not
+desire to secure a monopoly, and disapprove of the sale of malgamite at
+a price which has already closed one or two of the smaller mills, and
+is paralyzing the paper trade of the world."
+
+The speaker finished with a bow towards Cornish, and resumed his seat.
+All were watching Lord Ferriby's face, except Major White, who examined
+a quill pen with short-sighted absorption. Lord Ferriby looked across
+the table at Cornish.
+
+"Lord Ferriby," said Cornish, without rising from his seat, and meeting
+his uncle's glance steadily, "will now no doubt confirm all that
+Monsieur Creil has said."
+
+Lord Ferriby had, in truth, come to the meeting with no such intention.
+He had, with all his vast experience, no knowledge of a purely
+commercial assembly such as this. His public had hitherto been a
+drawing-room public. He was accustomed to a flower-decked platform,
+from which to deliver his flowing periods to the emotional of both
+sexes. There were no flowers in this room at the Hotel des Indes, and
+the men before him were not of the emotional school. They were, on the
+contrary, plain, hard-headed men of business, who had come from
+different parts of the world at Cornish's bidding to meet a crisis in a
+plain, hard-headed way. They had only thoughts of their balance-sheets,
+and not of the fact that they held in the hollow of their hands the
+lives of hundreds, nay, of thousands, of men, women, and children.
+Monsieur Creil alone, the keen-eyed Frenchman, had absolute control of
+over three thousand employees--married men with children--but he did not
+think of mentioning the fact. And it is a weight to carry about with
+one--to go to sleep with and to awake with in the morning--the charge
+of, say, nine thousand human lives.
+
+For a few moments Lord Ferriby was silent. Cornish watched him across
+the table. He knew that his uncle was no fool, although his wisdom
+amounted to little more than the wisdom of the worldly. Would Lord
+Ferriby recognize the situation in time? There was a wavering look in
+the great man's eye that made his nephew suddenly anxious. Then Lord
+Ferriby rose slowly, to make the shortest speech that he had ever made
+in his life.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, "I beg to confirm what has just been said."
+
+As he sat down again, Cornish gave a sharp sigh of relief. In a moment
+Mr. Thompson was on his feet, his red face alight with democratic anger.
+
+
+"This won't do," he cried. "Let's have done with palavering and talk.
+Let's get to plain speaking."
+
+And it was not Lord Ferriby, but Tony Cornish, who rose to meet the
+attack.
+
+"If you will sit down," he said, "and keep your temper, you shall have
+plain speaking, and we can get to business. But if you do neither, I
+shall turn you out of the room."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes," answered Tony. And something which Mr. Thompson did not
+understand made him resume his seat in silence. The Frenchman smiled,
+and took up his speech where he had left it.
+
+"Mr. Cornish," he said, "speaks with authority. We are, gentlemen, in
+the hands of Mr. Cornish, and in good hands. He has this matter at the
+tips of his fingers. He has devoted himself to it for many months past,
+at considerable risk, as I suspect, to his own safety. We and the
+thousands of employees whom we represent cannot do better than entrust
+the situation to him, and give him a free hand. For once, capital and
+labour have a common interest----"
+
+He was again interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who spoke more quietly now.
+
+"It seems to me," he said, "that we may well consider the past for a
+few minutes before passing on to the future. There's more than a
+million pounds profit, at the lowest reckoning, on the last few months'
+manufacture. Question is, where is that profit? Is this a charity, or
+is it not? Mr. Cornish is all very well in his way. But we're not
+fools. We're men of business, and as such can only presume that Mr.
+Cornish, like the rest of 'em, has had his share. Question is, where
+are the profits?"
+
+Major White rose slowly. He was seated beside Mr. Thompson, and,
+standing up, towered above him. He looked down at the irate red face
+with a calm and wondering eye.
+
+"Question is," he said gravely, "where the deuce you will be in a few
+minutes if you don't shut up."
+
+Whereupon Mr. Thompson once more resumed his seat. He had the
+satisfaction, however, of perceiving that his shaft had reached its
+mark; for Lord Ferriby looked disconcerted and angry. The chairman of
+many charities looked, moreover, a little puzzled, as if the situation
+was beyond his comprehension. The Frenchman's pleasant voice again
+broke in, soothingly and yet authoritatively.
+
+"Mr. Cornish and a certain number of us have, for some time, been in
+correspondence," he said. "It is unnecessary for me to suggest to my
+present hearers that in dealing with a large industry--in handling, as
+it were, the lives of a number of persons--it is impossible to proceed
+too cautiously. One must look as far ahead as human foresight may
+perceive--one must give grave and serious thought to every possible
+outcome of action or inaction. Gentlemen, we have done our best. We
+are now in a position to say to the administrators of the Malgamite
+Fund, close your works and we will do the rest. And this means that we
+shall provide for the survivors of this great commercial catastrophe,
+that we shall care for the widows and children of the victims, that we
+shall supply ourselves with malgamite of our own manufacture, produced
+only by a process which is known to be harmless, that we shall make it
+impossible that such a monopoly may again be declared. We have, so far
+as lies in our power, provided for every emergency. We have approached
+the two men who, from their retreat on the dunes of Scheveningen, have
+swayed one of the large industries of the world. We have offered them a
+fortune. We have tried threats and money, but we have failed to close
+them but one alternative, and that is--war. We are prepared in every way.
+We can to-morrow take over the manufacture of malgamite for the whole
+world--but we must have the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. We must
+have the absolute control of the Malgamite Fund and of the works. We
+propose, gentlemen, to seize this control, and invest the supreme
+command in the one man who is capable of exercising it--Mr.
+Anthony Cornish."
+
+The Frenchman sat down, looked across the table, and shrugged his
+shoulders impatiently; for the irrepressible Thompson was already on
+his feet. It must be remembered that Mr. Thompson worked on commission,
+and had been hard hit.
+
+"Then," he cried, pointing a shaking forefinger into Lord Ferriby's
+face, "that man has no business to be sitting there. We're honest
+here--if we're nothing else. We all know your history, my fine
+gentleman; we know that you cannot wipe out the past, so you're trying
+to whitewash it over with good works. That's an old trick, and it won't
+go down here. Do you think we don't see through you and your palavering
+speeches? Why have you refused to take action against Roden and Von
+Holzen? Because they've paid you. Look at him, gentlemen! He has taken
+money from those men at Scheveningen--blood money. He has had his
+share. I propose that Lord Ferriby explains his position."
+
+Mr. Thompson banged his fist on the table, and at the same moment sat
+down with extreme precipitation, urged thereto by Major White's hand on
+his collar.
+
+"This is not a vestry meeting," said the major, sternly.
+
+Lord Ferriby had risen to his feet. "My position, gentlemen," he began,
+and then faltered, with his hand at his watch-chain. "My position----"
+He stopped with a gulp. His face was the colour of ashes. He turned in
+a dazed way towards his nephew; for at the beginning and the end of
+life blood is thicker than water. "Anthony," said his lordship, and sat
+down heavily.
+
+All rose to their feet in confusion. Major White seemed somehow to be
+quicker than the rest, and caught Lord Ferriby in his arms--but Lord
+Ferriby was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+WITH CARE.
+
+"Some man holdeth his tongue, because he hath not to answer: and
+some keepeth silence, knowing his time."
+
+
+Those who live for themselves alone must at least have the consolatory
+thought that when they die the world will soon console itself. For it
+has been decreed that he who takes no heed of others shall himself be
+taken no heed of. We soon learn to do without those who are indifferent
+to us and useless to us. Lord Ferriby had so long and so carefully
+studied the _culte_ of self that even those nearest to him had ceased
+to give him any thought, knowing that in his own he was in excellent
+hands--that he would always ask for what he wanted. It was Lord
+Ferriby's business to make the discovery (which all selfish people must
+sooner or later achieve) that the best things in this world are
+precisely those which may not be given on demand, and for which,
+indeed, one may in nowise ask.
+
+When Major White and Cornish were left alone in the private _salon_ of
+the Hotel des Indes--when the doctor had come and gone, when the blinds
+had been decently lowered, and the great man silently laid upon the
+sofa--they looked at each other without speaking. The grimmest silence
+is surely that which arises from the thought that of the dead one may
+only say what is good.
+
+"Would you like me," said Cornish, "to go across and tell Joan?"
+
+And Major White, whose god was discipline, replied, "She's your cousin.
+It is for you to say."
+
+"I shall be glad if you will go," said Cornish, "and leave me to make
+the other arrangements. Take her home tomorrow, or tonight if she wants
+to, and leave us--me--to follow."
+
+So Major White quitted the Hotel des Indes, and walked slowly down the
+length of the Toornoifeld, leaving Cornish alone with Lord Ferriby,
+whose death made his nephew suddenly a richer man.
+
+The Wades had gone out for a drive in the wood. Major White knew that
+he would find Joan alone at the hotel. Bad news has a strange trick of
+clearing the way before it. The major went to the _salon_ on the ground
+floor overlooking the corner of the Vyverberg. Joan was writing a
+letter at the window.
+
+"Ah!" she said, turning, pen in hand, "you are soon back. Have you
+quarrelled?"
+
+White went stolidly across the room towards her. There was a chair by
+the writing-table, and here he sat down. Joan was looking uneasily into
+his face. Perhaps she saw more in that immovable countenance than the
+world was pleased to perceive.
+
+"Your father was taken suddenly ill," he said, "during the meeting."
+Joan half rose from her chair, but the major laid his protecting hand
+over hers. It was a large, quiet hand--like himself, somewhat suggestive
+of a buffer. And it may, after all, be no mean _role_ to act as a
+buffer between one woman and the world all one's life.
+
+"You can do nothing," said White. "Tony is with him."
+
+Joan looked into his face in speechless inquiry.
+
+"Yes," he answered, "your father is dead."
+
+Then he sat there in a silence which may have been intensely stupid or
+very wise. For silence is usually cleverer than speech, and always more
+interesting. Joan was dry-eyed. Well may the children of the selfish
+arise and bless their parents for (albeit unwittingly) alleviating one
+of the necessary sorrows of life.
+
+After a silence, Major White told Joan how the calamity had occurred,
+in a curt military way, as of one who had rubbed shoulders with death
+before, who had gone out, moreover, to meet him with a quiet mind, and
+had told others of the dealings of the destroyer. For Major White was
+deemed a lucky man by his comrades, who had a habit of giving him
+messages for their friends before they went into the field. Perhaps,
+moreover, the major was of the opinion of those ancient writers who
+seemed to deem it more important to consider how a man lives than how
+he dies.
+
+"It was some heart trouble," he concluded, "brought on by worry or
+sudden excitement."
+
+"The Malgamite," answered Joan. "It has always been a source of
+uneasiness to him. He never quite understood it."
+
+"No," answered the major, very deliberately, "he never quite understood
+it." And he looked out of the window with a thoughtful noncommitting
+face.
+
+"Neither do I--understand it," said Joan, doubtfully.
+
+And the major looked suddenly dense. He had, as usual, no explanation
+to offer.
+
+"Was father deceived by some one?" Joan asked, after a pause. "One
+hears such strange rumours about the Malgamite Fund. I suppose father
+was deceived?"
+
+She spoke of the dead man with that hushed voice which death, with a
+singular impartiality to race or creed, seems to demand of the
+survivors wheresoever he passes.
+
+White met her earnest gaze with a grave nod. "Yes," he answered. "He
+was deceived."
+
+"He said before he went out that he did not want to go to the meeting
+at all," went on Joan, in a tone of tender reminiscence, "but that he
+had always made a point of sacrificing his inclination to his sense of
+duty. Poor father!"
+
+"Yes," said the major, looking out of the window. And he bore Joan's
+steady, searching glance like a man.
+
+"Tell me," she said suddenly. "Were you and Tony deceived also?"
+
+Major White reflected for a moment. It is unwise to tell even the
+smallest lie in haste.
+
+"No," he answered at length. "Not so entirely as your father."
+
+He uncrossed his legs, and made a feeble attempt to divert her
+thoughts.
+
+But Joan was on the trail as it were of a half-formed idea in her own
+mind, and she would not have been a woman if she had relinquished the
+quest so easily.
+
+"But you were deceived at first?" she inquired, rather anxiously. "I
+know Tony was. I am sure of it. Perhaps he found out later; but you--"
+
+She drew her hand from under his rather hastily, having just found out
+that it was in that equivocal position.
+
+"You were never deceived," she said, with a suspicion of resentment.
+
+"Well--perhaps not," admitted the major, reluctantly. And he looked
+regretfully at the hand she had withdrawn. "Don't know much about
+charities," he continued, after a pause. "Don't quite look at them in
+the right light, perhaps. Seems to me that you ought to be more
+business-like in charities than in anything else; and we're not
+business men--not even you."
+
+He looked at her very solemnly and wisely, as if the thoughts in his
+mind would be of immense value if he could only express them; but he
+was without facilities in that direction. If one cannot be wise, the
+next best thing is to have a wise look. He rose, for he had caught
+sight of Tony Cornish crossing the Toornoifeld in the shade of the
+trees. Perhaps the major had forgotten for the moment that a great man
+was dead; that there were letters to be written and telegrams to be
+despatched; that the world must know of it, and the insatiable maw of
+the public be closed by a few scraps of news. For the public mind must
+have its daily food, and the wise are they who tell it only that which
+it is expedient for it to know.
+
+Lord Ferriby's life was, moreover, one that needed careful obituary
+treatment. Everybody's life may for domestic purposes be described as a
+hash; but Lord Ferriby's was a hash which in the hands of a cheap
+democratic press might easily be served up so daintily as to be very
+savoury in the nostrils of the world. Some of its component parts were
+indeed exceedingly ancient, and, so to speak, gamey, while the
+Malgamite scheme alone might easily be magnified into a very passable
+scandal.
+
+Tony came into the room, keen and capable. He did not show much
+feeling. Perhaps Joan and he understood each other without any such
+display. For they had known each other many years, and had understood
+other and more subtle matters without verbal explanation. For the world
+had been pleased to say that Joan and Tony must in the end inevitably
+marry. And they had never explained, never contradicted, and never
+married.
+
+While the three were still talking, a carriage rattled up to the door
+of the hotel, and then another. There began, in a word, that hushed
+confusion--that running to and fro as of ants upon a disturbed
+ant-hill--which follows hard upon the footsteps of the grim messenger,
+who himself is content to come so quietly and unobtrusively. Roden
+arrived to make inquiries, and Mrs. Vansittart, and a messenger from
+more than one embassy. Then the Wades came, brought hurriedly back by a
+messenger sent after them by Tony Cornish.
+
+Marguerite, with characteristic energy, came into the room first, slim
+and bright-eyed. She looked from one face to the other, and then
+crossed the room and stood beside Joan without speaking. She was
+smiling--a little hard smile with close-set lips, showing the world a
+face that meant to take life open-eyed, as it is, and make the best of
+it.
+
+Before long the two girls quitted the room, leaving the three men to
+their hushed discussion. Tony had already provided himself with pen and
+paper. In twelve hours that which the world must know about Lord
+Ferriby should be in print. There was just time to cable it to the
+_Times_ and the news agencies. And in these hurried days it is the
+first word which, after all, goes farthest and carries most weight. A
+contradiction is at all times a poor expedient.
+
+"I have silenced the paper-makers," said Cornish, sitting down to
+write. "Even that ass Thompson, by striking while the iron was hot."
+
+"And Roden won't open his lips," added Mr. Wade, who, as he drove up,
+had seen that brilliant financier uneasily strolling under the trees of
+the Toornoifeld, looking towards the hotel, for Lord Ferriby's death
+was a link in the crooked malgamite chain which even Von Holzen had
+failed to foresee.
+
+Indeed, Lord Ferriby must have been gratified could he have seen the
+posthumous pother that he made by dying at this juncture. For in life
+he had only been important in his own eyes, and the world had taken
+little heed of him. This same keen-sighted world would not regret him
+much now and would assuredly mete out to that miserly old screw, his
+widow, only as much sympathy as the occasion deserved. Lady Ferriby
+would, the world suspected, sell off his lordship's fancy waistcoats,
+and proceed to save money to her heart's content. Even the thought of
+his club subscriptions, now necessarily to be discontinued, must have
+assuaged a large part of the widow's grief. Such, at least, was the
+opinion of the clubs themselves, when the news was posted up among the
+weather reports and the latest tapes from the House that same evening.
+
+While Lord Ferriby's friends were comfortably endowing him with a few
+compensating virtues over their tea and hot buttered toast in Pall Mall
+and St. James's Street, Mr. Wade, Tony, and White dined together at the
+Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery at The Hague. The hour was an early
+one, and had never been countenanced by Lord Ferriby, but the three men
+in whose hands he had literally left his good name did not attach
+supreme importance to this matter. Indeed, the banker thought kindly of
+six-thirty as an hour at which in earlier days he had been endowed with
+a better appetite than he ever possessed now at eight o'clock or later.
+While they were at table a telegram was handed to Cornish. It was from
+Lord Ferriby's solicitor in London, and contained the advice that Tony
+Cornish had been appointed sole executor of his lordship's will.
+
+"Thank God!" said Tony, with a little laugh, as he read the message and
+handed it across to Mr. Wade, who looked at it gravely without comment.
+"And now," said Cornish, "not even Joan need know."
+
+For Cornish, having perceived Percy Roden under the trees of the
+Toornoifeld, had gone out there to speak to him, and in answer to a
+plain question had received a plain answer as to the price that Lord
+Ferriby had been paid for the use of his name in the Malgamite
+Fund transactions.
+
+Joan had elected to remain in her own rooms, with Marguerite to keep
+her company, until the evening, when, under White's escort, she was to
+set out for England. The major had in a minimum of words expressed
+himself ready to do anything at any time, provided that the service did
+not require an abnormal conversational effort.
+
+"I shall be home twenty-four hours after you," said Cornish, as he bade
+Joan good-bye at the station. "And you need believe no rumours and fear
+no gossip. If people ask impertinent questions, refer them to White."
+
+"And I'll thump them," added the major, who indeed looked capable of
+rendering that practical service.
+
+They were favoured by a full moon and a perfect night for their passage
+from the Hook of Holland to Harwich. Joan expressed a desire to remain
+on deck, at all events, until the lights of the Maas had been left
+behind. Major White procured two deck chairs, and found a corner of the
+upper deck which was free alike from too much wind and too many people.
+There they sat in the shadow of a boat, and Joan seemed fully occupied
+with her own thoughts, for she did not speak while the steamer ploughed
+steadily onwards through the smooth water.
+
+"I wonder if it is my duty to continue to take an active part in the
+Malgamite Fund," she said at length.
+
+And the major, who had been permitted to smoke, looked attentively at
+the lighted end of his cigar, and said nothing.
+
+"I am afraid it must be," continued Joan, whose earnest endeavours to
+find out what was her duty, and do it, occupied the larger part of her
+time and attention.
+
+"Why?" asked Major White.
+
+"Because I don't want to."
+
+The major thought about the matter for a long time--almost half through
+a cigar. It was wonderful how so much thought could result in so few
+words, especially in these days, which are essentially days of many
+words and few thoughts. During this period of meditation, Joan sat
+looking out to sea, and the moon shining down upon her face showed it
+to be puckered with anxiety. Like many of her contemporaries, she was
+troubled by an intense desire to do her duty, coupled with an
+unfortunate lack of duties to perform.
+
+"I wish you would tell me what you think," she said.
+
+"Seems to me," said White, "that your duty is clear enough."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Yes. Drop the Malgamiters and the Haberdashers and all that,
+and--marry me."
+
+But Joan only shook her head sadly. "That cannot be my duty," she said.
+
+"Why? 'Cos it isn't unpleasant enough?"
+
+"No," answered Joan, after a pause, in the deepest
+earnestness--"no--that's just it."
+
+Out of which ambiguous observation the major seemed to gather some
+meaning, for he looked up at the moon with one of his most vacant
+smiles.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+A LESSON.
+
+"Whom the gods mean to destroy, they blind."
+
+
+Mrs. Vansittart had passed the age of blind love. She had not the
+incentive of a healthy competition. She had not that more dangerous
+incentive of middle-aged vanity, which draws the finger of derision so
+often in the direction of widows. And yet she took a certain pleasure
+in playing a half-careless and wholly cynical Juliet to Percy Roden's
+_gauche_ Romeo. She had no intention of marrying him, and yet she
+continued to encourage him even now that open war was declared between
+Cornish and the malgamite makers. Cornish had indeed thanked Mrs.
+Vansittart for her assistance in the past in such a manner as to convey
+to her that she could hardly be of use to him in the future. He had
+magnified her good offices, and had warned her to beware of arousing
+Von Holzen's anger. Indeed, her use of Percy Roden was at an end, and
+yet she would not let him go. Cornish was puzzled, and so was
+Dorothy. Percy Roden was gratified, and read the riddle by the light of
+his own vanity. Mrs. Vansittart was not, perhaps, the first woman to
+puzzle her neighbours by refusing to relinquish that which she did not
+want. She was not the first, perhaps, to nurse a subtle desire to play
+some part in the world rather than be left idle in the wings. So she
+played the part that came first and easiest to her hand--a woman's
+natural part, of stirring up strife between men.
+
+She was, therefore, gratified when Von Holzen made his way slowly towards
+her through the crowd on the Kursaal terrace one afternoon on the
+occasion of a Thursday concert. She was sitting alone in a far
+corner of the terrace, protected by a glass screen from the wind which
+ever blows at Scheveningen. She never mingled with the summer visitors
+at this popular Dutch resort--indeed, knew none of them. Von Holzen
+seemed to be similarly situated; but Mrs. Vansittart knew that he did
+not seek her out on that account. He was not a man to do anything--much
+less be sociable--out of idleness. He only dealt with his fellow-beings
+when he had a use for them.
+
+She returned his grave bow with an almost imperceptible movement of the
+head, and for a moment they looked hard at each other.
+
+"Madame still lingers at The Hague," he said.
+
+"As you see."
+
+"And is the game worth the candle?"
+
+He laid his hand tentatively on a chair, and looked towards her with an
+interrogative glance. He would not, it appeared, sit down without her
+permission. And, womanlike, she gave it, with a shrug of one shoulder.
+A woman rarely refuses a challenge. "And is the game worth the candle?"
+he repeated.
+
+"One can only tell when it is played out," was the reply; and Herr von
+Holzen glanced quickly at the lady who made it.
+
+He turned away and listened to the music. An occasional concert was the
+one diversion he allowed himself at this time from his most absorbing
+occupation of making a fortune. He had probably a real love of music,
+which is not by any means given to the good only, or the virtuous.
+Indeed, it is the art most commonly allied to vice.
+
+"By the way," said Von Holzen, after a pause, "that paper which it
+pleased madame's fantasy to possess at one time--is destroyed. Its
+teaching exists only in my unworthy brain."
+
+He turned and looked at her with his slow smile, his measuring eyes.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes; so madame need give the question no more thought, and may turn
+her full attention to her new--fancy."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart was studying her programme, and did not look up or
+display the slightest interest in what he was saying.
+
+"Every event seems but to serve to strengthen our position," went on
+Von Holzen, still half listening to the music. "Even the untimely death
+of Lord Ferriby--which might at first have appeared a _contretemps_.
+Cornish takes home the coffin by tonight's mail, I understand. Men may
+come, madame, and men may go--but we go on for ever. We are still
+prosperous--despite our friends. And Cornish is nonplussed. He does not
+know what to do next, and fate seems to be against him. He has no luck.
+We are manufacturing--day and night."
+
+"You are interested in Mr. Cornish," observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly;
+and she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes.
+
+After all, the man had a passion over which his control was
+insecure--the last, the longest of the passions--hatred. He shrugged
+his shoulders.
+
+"He has forced himself upon our notice--unnecessarily as the result has
+proved--only to find out that there is no stopping us."
+
+He could scarcely control his voice as he spoke of Cornish, and looked
+away as if fearing to show the expression of his eyes.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart watched him with a cool little smile. Von Holzen had
+not come here to talk of Cornish. He had come on purpose to say
+something which he had not succeeded in saying yet, and she was not
+ignorant of this. She was going to make it as difficult as possible for
+him, so that when he at last said what he had come to say, she should
+know it, and perhaps divine his motives.
+
+"Even now," he continued, "we have succeeded beyond our expectations.
+We are rich men, so that madame--need delay no longer." He turned and
+looked her straight in the eyes.
+
+"I?" she inquired, with raised eyebrows. "Need delay no longer--in
+what?"
+
+"In consummating the happiness of my partner, Percy Roden," he was
+clever enough to say without being impertinent. "He--and his banking
+account--are really worth the attention of any lady."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart laughed, and, before answering, acknowledged stiffly
+the stiff salutation of a passer.
+
+"Then it is suggested that I am waiting for Mr. Roden to be rich enough
+in order to marry him?"
+
+"It is the talk of gossips and servants."
+
+Mrs. Vansittart looked at him with an amused smile. Did he really know
+so little of the world as to take his information from gossips and
+servants?
+
+"Ah," she said, and that was all. She rose and made a little signal
+with her parasol to her coachman, who was waiting in the shadow of the
+Kursaal. As she drove home, she wondered why Von Holzen was afraid that
+she should marry Percy Roden, who, as it happened, was coming to tea in
+Park Straat that evening. Mrs. Vansittart had not exactly invited
+him--not, at all events, that he was aware of. He was under the
+impression that he had himself proposed the visit.
+
+She remembered that he was coming, but gave no further thought to him.
+All her mind was, indeed, absorbed with thoughts of Von Holzen, whom
+she hated with the dull and deadly hatred of the helpless. The sight of
+him, the sound of his voice, stirred something within her that vibrated
+for hours, so that she could think of nothing else--could not even give
+her attention to the little incidents of daily life. She pretended to
+herself that she sought retribution--that she wished on principle to
+check a scoundrel in his successful career. The heart, however, knows
+no principles; for these are created by and belong to the mind. Which
+explains why many women seem to have no principles and many virtuous
+persons no heart.
+
+Mrs. Vansittart went home to make a careful toilet pending the arrival
+of Percy Roden. She came down to the drawing-room, and stood idly at
+the window.
+
+"The talk of gossips and servants," she repeated bitterly to herself.
+One of Von Holzen's shafts had, at all events, gone home. And Percy
+Roden came into the room a few minutes afterwards. His manner had more
+assurance than when he had first made Mrs. Vansittart's acquaintance.
+He had, perhaps, a trifle less respect for the room and its occupant.
+Mrs. Vansittart had allowed him to come nearer to her; and
+when a woman allows a man of whom she has a low opinion to come near to
+her, she trifles with her own self-respect, and does harm which,
+perhaps, may never be repaired.
+
+"I was too busy to go to the concert this afternoon," he said, sitting
+down in his loose-limbed way.
+
+His assumption that his absence had been noticed rather nettled his
+hearer.
+
+"Ah! Were you not there?" she inquired.
+
+He turned and looked at her with his curt laugh. "If I had been there
+you would have known it," he said.
+
+It was just one of those remarks--delivered in the half-mocking voice
+assumed in self-protection--which Mrs. Vansittart had hitherto allowed
+to pass unchallenged. And now, quite suddenly, she resented the manner
+and the speech.
+
+"Indeed," she said, with a subtle inflection of tone which should have
+warned him.
+
+But he was engaged in drawing down his cuffs. Many young men would know
+more of the world if they had no cuffs or collars to distract them.
+
+"Yes," answered Roden; "if I had gone to the concert it would not have
+been for the music."
+
+Percy Roden's method of making love was essentially modern. He threw to
+Mrs. Vansittart certain scraps of patronage and admiration, which she
+could pick up seriously and keep if she cared to. But he was not going
+to risk a wound to his vanity by taking the initiative too earnestly.
+Mrs. Vansittart, who was busy at the tea-table, set down a cup which
+she had in her hand and crossed the room towards him.
+
+"What do you mean, Mr. Roden?" she asked slowly.
+
+He looked up with wavering eyes, and visibly lost colour under her
+gaze.
+
+"What do I mean?"
+
+"Yes. What do you mean when you say that, if you had gone to the
+concert, it would not have been for the music; that if you had been
+there, I should have known of your presence, and a hundred
+other--impertinences?"
+
+At first Roden thought that the way was being made easy for him as it
+is in books, as, indeed, it sometimes is in life, when it happens to be
+a way that is not worth the treading; but the last word stung him like
+a lash--as it was meant to sting. It was, perhaps, that one word that
+made him rise from his chair.
+
+"If you meant to object to anything that I may say, you should have
+done so long ago," he said. "Who was the first to speak at the hotel
+when I came to The Hague? Which of us was it that kept the friendship
+up and cultivated it? I am not blind. I could hardly be anything else,
+if I had failed to see what you have meant all along."
+
+"What have I meant all along?" she asked, with a strange little smile.
+
+"Why, you have meant me to say such things as I have said, and perhaps
+more."
+
+"More--what can you mean?"
+
+She looked at him still with a smile, which he did not understand. And,
+like many men, he allowed his vanity to explain things which his
+comprehension failed to elucidate.
+
+"Well," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "will you marry me?
+There!"
+
+"No, Mr. Roden, I will not," she answered promptly; and then suddenly
+her eyes flashed, at some recollection, perhaps--at some thought
+connected with her happy past contrasted with this sordid, ignoble
+present.
+
+"You!" she cried. "Marry you!"
+
+"Why," he asked, with a bitter little laugh, "what is there wrong with
+me?"
+
+"I do not know what there is wrong with you. And I am not interested to
+inquire. But, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing right."
+
+A woman's answer after all, and one of those reasons which are no
+reasons, and yet rule the world.
+
+Roden looked at her, completely puzzled. In a flash of thought he
+recalled Dorothy's warning, and her incomprehensible foresight.
+
+"Then," he said, lapsing in his self-forgetfulness into the terse
+language of his everyday life and thought, "what on earth have you been
+driving at all along?"
+
+"I have been driving at Herr von Holzen and the Malgamite scheme. I
+have been helping Tony Cornish," she answered.
+
+So Percy Roden quitted the house at the corner of Park Straat a wiser
+man, and perhaps he left a wiser woman in it.
+
+"My dear," said Mrs. Vansittart to Marguerite Wade, long afterwards,
+when a sort of friendship had sprung up and ripened between them--"my
+dear, never let a man ask you to marry him unless you mean to say yes.
+It will do neither of you any good."
+
+And Marguerite, who never allowed another the last word, gave a shrewd
+little nod before she answered--"I always say no--before they ask me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL.
+
+ "There's not a crime--But takes its proper change still out in crime
+If once rung on the counter of this world."
+
+
+Cornish went back to The Hague immediately after Lord Ferriby's funeral
+because it has been decreed that for all men, this large world shall
+sooner or later narrow down to one city, perhaps, or one village, or a
+single house. For a man's life is always centred round a memory or a
+hope, and neither of those requires much space wherein to live. Tony
+Cornish's world had narrowed to the Villa des Dunes on the sandhills of
+Scheveningen, and his mind's eye was always turned in that direction.
+His one thought at this time was to protect Dorothy--to keep, if
+possible, the name she bore from harm and ill-fame. Each day that
+passed meant death to the malgamite workers. He could not delay. He
+dared not hurry. He wrote again to Percy Roden from London, amid the
+hurried preparations for the funeral, and begged him to sever his
+connection with Von Holzen.
+
+
+"You will not have time," he wrote, "to answer this before I leave for
+The Hague. I shall stay on the Toornoifeld as usual, and hope to arrive
+about nine o'clock to-morrow evening. I shall leave the hotel about a
+quarter-past nine and walk down the right-hand bank of the Koninginne
+Gracht, and should like to meet you by the canal, where we can have a
+talk. I have many reasons to submit to your consideration why it will
+be expedient for you to come over to my side in this difference now,
+which I cannot well set down on paper. And remember that between men of
+the world, such as I suppose we may take ourselves to be, there is no
+question of one of us judging the other. Let me beg of you to consider
+your position in regard to the Malgamite scheme--and meet me to-morrow
+night between the Malie Veld and the Achter Weg about half-past nine. I
+cannot see you at the works, and it would be better for you not to come
+to my hotel."
+
+The letter was addressed to the Villa des Dunes, where Roden received
+it the next morning. Dorothy saw it, and guessed from whom it was,
+though she hardly knew her lover's writing. He had adhered firmly to
+his resolution to keep himself in the background until he had finished
+the work he had undertaken. He had not written to her; had scarcely
+seen her. Roden read the letter, and put it in his pocket without a
+word. It had touched his vanity. He had had few dealings with men of
+the standing and position of Cornish, and here was this peer's nephew
+and peer's grandson appealing to him as to a friend, classing him
+together with himself as a man of the world. No man has so little
+discretion as a vain man. It is almost impossible for him to keep
+silence when speech will make for his glorification. Roden arrived at
+the works well pleased with himself, and found Von Holzen in their
+little office, put out, ill at ease, domineering. It was unfortunate,
+if you will. Percy Roden was always ready to perceive his own
+ill-fortune, and looked back later to this as one of his most untoward
+hours. Life, however, should surely consist of seizing the fortunate
+and fighting through the ill moments--else why should men have heart
+and nerve?
+
+In such humours as they found themselves it did not take long for these
+two men to discover a question upon which to differ. It was a mere
+matter of detail connected with the money at that time passing through
+their hands.
+
+"Of course," said Roden, in the course of a useless and trivial
+dispute--"of course you think you know best, but you know nothing of
+finance--remember that. Everybody knows that it is I who have run that
+part of the business. Ask old Wade, or White--or Cornish."
+
+The argument had, in truth, been rather one-sided. For Roden had done
+all the talking, while Von Holzen looked at him with a quiet eye and a
+silent contempt that made him talk all the more. Von Holzen did not
+answer now, though his eye lighted at the mention of Cornish's name. He
+merely looked at Roden with a smile, which conveyed as clearly as words
+Von Holzen's suggestion that none of the three men named would be
+prepared to give Roden a very good character. "I had a letter, by the
+way, from Cornish this morning," said Roden, lapsing into his grander
+manner, which Von Holzen knew how to turn to account.
+
+"Ah--bah!" he exclaimed sceptically. And that lurking vanity of the
+inferior to lessen his own inferiority did the rest.
+
+"If you don't believe me, there you are," said Roden, throwing the
+letter upon the table--not ill-pleased, in the heat of the moment, to
+show that he was a more important person than his companion seemed to
+think.
+
+Von Holzen read the letter slowly and thoughtfully. The fact that it
+was evidently intended for Roden's private eye did not seem to affect
+one or the other of these two men, who had travelled, with difficulty,
+along the road to fortune, only reaching their bourn at last with a
+light stock of scruples and a shattered code of honour. Then he folded
+it, and handed it back. He was not likely to forget a word of it.
+
+"I suppose you will go," he said. "It will be interesting to hear what
+he has to say. That letter is a confession of weakness."
+
+In making which statement Von Holzen showed his own weak point. For,
+like many clever men, he utterly failed to give to women their
+place--the leading place--in the world's history, as in the little
+histories of our daily lives. He never detected Dorothy between every
+line of Cornish's letter, and thought that it had only been dictated by
+inability to meet the present situation.
+
+"I cannot very well refuse to go since the fellow asks me," said Roden,
+grandly. He might as well have displayed his grandeur to a statue. If
+love is blind, self-love is surely half-witted as well, for it never
+sees nor understands that the world is fooling it. Roden failed to heed
+the significant fact that Von Holzen did not even ask him what line of
+conduct he intended to follow with regard to Cornish, nor seek in his
+autocratic way to instruct him on that point; but turned instead to
+other matters and did not again refer to Cornish or the letter he had
+written.
+
+So the day wore on while Cornish impatiently walked the deck of the
+steamer, ploughing its way across the North Sea, through showers and
+thunderstorms and those grey squalls that flit to and fro on the German
+Ocean. And some tons of malgamite were made, while a manufacturer or
+two of the grim product laid aside his tools forever, while the money
+flowed in, and Otto von Holzen thought out his deep silent plans over
+his vats and tanks and crucibles. And all the while those who write in
+the book of fate had penned the last decree.
+
+Cornish arrived punctually at The Hague. He drove to the hotel, where
+he was known, where, indeed, he had never relinquished his room. There
+was no letter for him--no message from Percy Roden. But Von Holzen had
+unobtrusively noted his arrival at the station from the crowded retreat
+of the second-class waiting-room.
+
+The day had been a very hot one, and from canal and dyke arose that
+sedgy odour which comes with the cool of night in all Holland. It is
+hardly disagreeable, and conveys no sense of unhealthiness.
+
+It seems merely to be the breath of still waters, and, in hot weather,
+suggests very pleasantly the relief of northern night. The Hague has
+two dominant smells. In winter, when the canals are frozen, the reek of
+burning-peat is on the air and in the summer the odour of slow waters.
+Cornish knew them both. He knew everything about this old-world city,
+where the turning-point of his life had been fixed. It was deserted
+now. The great houses, the theatre--the show-places--were closed. The
+Toornoifeld was empty.
+
+The hotel porter, aroused by the advent of the traveller from an
+after-dinner nap in his little glass box, spread out his hands with a
+gesture of surprise.
+
+"The season is over," he said. "We are empty. Why you come to The Hague
+now?"
+
+Even the sentries at the end of the Korte Voorhout wore a holiday air
+of laxness, and swung their rifles idly. Cornish noticed that only half
+of the lamps were lighted.
+
+The banks of the Queen's Canal are heavily shaded by trees, which,
+indeed, throw out their branches to meet above the weed-sown water.
+There is a broad thoroughfare on either side of the canal, though
+little traffic passes that way. These are two of the many streets of
+The Hague which seem to speak of a bygone day, when Holland played a
+greater part in the world's history than she does at present, for the
+houses are bigger than the occupants must need, and the streets are too
+wide for the traffic passing through them. In the middle the canal--a
+gloomy corridor beneath the trees--creeps noiselessly towards the sea.
+Cornish was before the appointed hour, and walked leisurely by the
+pathway between the trees and the canal. Soon the houses were left
+behind, and he passed the great open space called the Malie Veld. He
+had met no one since leaving the guard-house. It was a dark night, with
+no moon, but the stars were peeping through the riven clouds.
+
+"Unless he stands under a lamp, I shall not see him," he said to
+himself, and lighted a cigar to indicate his whereabouts to Roden,
+should he elect to keep the appointment. When he had gone a few paces
+farther he saw someone coming towards him. There was a lamp halfway
+between them, and, as he approached the light, Cornish recognized
+Roden. There was no mistaking the long loose stride.
+
+"I wonder," said Cornish, "if this is going to the end?"
+
+And he went forward to meet the financier.
+
+"I was afraid you would not come," he said, in a voice that was
+friendly enough, for he was a man of the world, and in that which is
+called Society (with a capital letter) had rubbed elbows all his life
+with many who had no better reputation than Percy Roden, and some who
+deserved a worse.
+
+"Oh, I don't mind coming," answered Roden, "because I did not want to
+keep you waiting here in the dark. But it is no good, I tell you that
+at the outset."
+
+"And nothing I can say will alter your decision?"
+
+"Nothing. A man does not get two such chances as this in his lifetime. I
+am not going to throw this one away for the sake of a sentiment."
+
+"Sentiment hardly describes the case," said Cornish, thoughtfully. "Do
+you mean to tell me that you do not care about all these deaths--about
+these poor devils of malgamiters?" And he looked hard at his companion
+beneath the lamp.
+
+"Not a d--n," answered Roden. "I have been poor--you haven't. Why, man!
+I have starved inside a good coat. You don't know what that means."
+
+Cornish looked at him, and said nothing. There was no mistaking the
+man's sincerity--nor the manner in which his voice suddenly broke when
+he spoke of hunger.
+
+"Then there are only two things left for me to do," said Cornish, after
+a moment's reflection. "Ask your sister to marry me first, and smash
+you up afterwards."
+
+Roden, who was smoking, threw his cigarette away. "You mean to do both
+these things?"
+
+"Both."
+
+Roden looked at him. He opened his lips to speak, but suddenly leapt
+back.
+
+"Look out!" he cried, and had barely time to point over Cornish's
+shoulder.
+
+Cornish swung round on his heel. He belonged to a school and generation
+which, with all its faults, has, at all events, the redeeming quality
+of courage. He had long learnt to say the right thing, which
+effectually teaches men to do the right thing also. He saw some one
+running towards him, noiselessly, in rubber shoes. He had no time to
+think, and scarce a moment in which to act, for the man was but two
+steps away with an upraised arm, and in the lamplight there flashed the
+gleam of steel.
+
+Cornish concentrated his attention on the upraised arm, seizing it with
+both hands, and actually swinging his assailant off his legs. He knew
+in an instant who it was, without needing to recognize the smell of
+malgamite. This was Otto von Holzen, who had not hesitated to state his
+opinion--that it is often worth a man's while to kill another.
+
+While his feet were still off the ground, Cornish let him go, and he
+staggered away into the darkness of the trees. Cornish, who was lithe
+and quick, rather than of great physical force, recovered his balance
+in a moment, and turned to face the trees. He knew that Von Holzen
+would come back. He distinctly hoped that he would. For man is
+essentially the first of the "game" animals and beneath fine clothes
+there nearly always beats a heart ready, quite suddenly, to snatch the
+fearful joy of battle.
+
+Von Holzen did not disappoint him, but came flying on silent feet, like
+some beast of prey, from the darkness. Cornish had played half-back for
+his school not so many years before. He collared Von Holzen low, and
+let him go, with a cruel skill, heavily on his head and shoulder. Not a
+word had been spoken, and, in the stillness of the summer night, each
+could hear the other breathing.
+
+Roden stood quite still. He could scarcely distinguish the antagonists.
+His own breath came whistling through his teeth. His white face was
+ghastly and twitching. His sleepy eyes were awake now, and staring.
+
+Each charge had left Cornish nearer to the canal. He was standing now
+quite at the edge. He could smell, but he could not see the water, and
+dared not turn his head to look. There is no railing here as there is
+nearer the town.
+
+In a moment, Von Holzen was on his feet again. In the dark, mere inches
+are much equalized between men--but Von Holzen had a knife. Cornish, who
+held nothing in his hands, knew that he was at a fatal disadvantage.
+
+Again, Von Holzen ran at him with his arm outstretched for a swinging
+stab. Cornish, in a flash of thought, recognized that he could not meet
+this. He stepped neatly aside. Von Holzen attempted to stop stumbled,
+half recovered himself, and fell headlong into the canal.
+
+In a moment Cornish and Roden were at the edge, peering into the
+darkness. Cornish gave a breathless laugh.
+
+"We shall have to fish him out," he said.
+
+And he knelt down, ready to give a hand to Von Holzen. But the water,
+smooth again now, was not stirred by so much as a ripple.
+
+"Suppose he can swim?" muttered Roden, uneasily.
+
+And they waited in a breathless silence. There was something horrifying
+in the single splash, and then the stillness.
+
+"Gad!" whispered Cornish. "Where is he?"
+
+Roden struck a match, and held it inside his hat so as to form a sort
+of lantern, though the air was still enough. Cornish did the same, and
+they held the lights out over the water, throwing the feeble rays right
+across the canal.
+
+"He cannot have swum away," he said. "Von Holzen," he cried out
+cautiously, after another pause--"Von Holzen--where are you?"
+
+But there was no answer.
+
+The surface of the canal was quite still and glassy in those parts that
+were not covered by the close-lying duck-weed. The water crept
+stealthily, slimily, towards the sea.
+
+The two men held their breath and waited. Cornish was kneeling at the
+edge of the water, peering over.
+
+"Where is he?" he repeated. "Gad! Roden, where is he?"
+
+And Roden, in a hoarse voice, answered at length "He is in the mud at
+the bottom--head downwards."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+AT THE CORNER.
+
+"L'homme s'agite et Dieu le mene."
+
+
+The two men on the edge of the canal waited and listened again. It
+seemed still possible that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness--had
+perhaps landed safely and unperceived on the other side.
+
+"This," said Cornish, at length, "is a police affair. Will you wait here
+while I go and fetch them?"
+
+But Roden made no answer, and in the sudden silence Cornish heard the
+eerie sound of chattering teeth. Percy Roden had morally collapsed.
+His mind had long been t a great tension, and this shock had unstrung
+him. Cornish seized him by the arm, and held him while he hook like a
+leaf and swayed heavily.
+
+"Come, man," said Cornish, kindly--"come, pull yourself together."
+
+He held him steadily and patiently until the shaking eased.
+
+"I'll go," said Roden, at length. "I couldn't stay ere alone."
+
+And he staggered away towards The Hague. It seemed hours before he came
+back. A carriage rattled past Cornish while he waited there, and two
+foot-passengers paused for a moment to look at him with some suspicion.
+
+At last Roden returned, accompanied by a police official--a phlegmatic
+Dutchman, who listened to the story in silence. He shook his head at
+Cornish's suggestion, made in halting Dutch mingled with German, that
+Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness.
+
+"No," said the officer, "I know these canals--and this above all others.
+They will find him, planted in the mud at the bottom, head downward
+like a tulip. The head goes in and the hands are powerless, for they
+only grasp soft mud like a fresh junket." He drew his short sword from
+its sheath, and scratched a deep mark in the gravel. Then he turned to
+the nearest tree, and made a notch on the bark with the blade. "There
+is nothing to be done tonight," he said philosophically. "There are men
+engaged in dredging the canal. I will set them to work at dawn before
+the world is astir. In the mean time"--he paused to return his sword to
+its scabbard--"in the meantime I must have the names and residence of
+these gentlemen. It is not for me to believe or disbelieve their
+story."
+
+"Can you go home alone? Are you all right now?" Cornish asked Roden, as
+he walked away with him towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+"Yes, I can go home alone," he answered, and walked on by himself,
+unsteadily.
+
+Cornish watched him, and, before he had gone twenty yards, Roden
+stopped. "Cornish!" he shouted.
+
+"Yes."
+
+And they walked towards each other.
+
+"I did not know that Von Holzen was there. You will believe that?"
+
+"Yes; I will believe that," answered Cornish.
+
+And they parted a second time. Cornish walked slowly back to the hotel.
+He limped a little, for Von Holzen had in the struggle kicked him on
+the ankle. He suddenly felt very tired, but was not shaken. On the
+contrary, he felt relieved, as if that which he had been attempting so
+long had been suddenly taken from his hands and consummated by a higher
+power, with whom all responsibility rested. He went to bed with a
+mechanical deliberation, and slept instantly. The daylight was
+streaming into the window when he awoke. No one sleeps very heavily at
+The Hague--no one knows why--and Cornish awoke with all his senses
+about him at the opening of his bedroom door. Roden had come in and was
+standing by the bedside. His eyes had a sleepless look. He looked,
+indeed, as if he had been up all night, and had just had a bath.
+
+"I say," he said, in his hollow voice--"I say, get up. They have found
+him--and we are wanted. We have to go and identify him--and all that."
+
+While Cornish was dressing, Roden sat heavily down on a chair near the
+window.
+
+"Hope you'll stick by me," he said, and, pausing, stretched out his
+hand to the washing-stand to pour himself out a glass of water--"I hope
+you'll stick by me. I'm so confoundedly shaky. Don't know what it
+is--look at my hand." He held out his hand, which shook like a
+drunkard's.
+
+"That is only nerves," said Cornish, who was ever optimistic and
+cheerful. He was too wise to weigh carefully his reasons for looking at
+the best side of events. "That is nothing. You have not slept, I
+expect."
+
+"No; I've been thinking. I say, Cornish--you must stick by me--I have
+been thinking. What am I to do with the malgamiters? I cannot manage
+the devils as Von Holzen did. I'm--I'm a bit afraid of them, Cornish."
+
+"Oh, that will be all right. Why, we have Wade, and can send for White
+if we want him. Do not worry yourself about that. What you want is
+breakfast. Have you had any?"
+
+"No. I left the house before Dorothy was awake or the servants were
+down. She knows nothing. Dorothy and I have not hit it off lately."
+
+Cornish made no answer. He was ringing the bell, and ordered coffee
+when the waiter came.
+
+"Haven't met any incident in life yet," he said cheerfully, "that
+seemed to justify missing out meals."
+
+The incident that awaited them was not, however, a pleasant one, though
+the magistrate in attendance afforded a courteous assistance in the
+observance of necessary formalities. Both men made a deposition before
+him.
+
+"I know something," he said to Cornish, "of this malgamite business. We
+have had our eye upon Von Holzen for some time--if only on account of
+the death-rate of the city."
+
+They breathed more freely when they were out in the street. Cornish
+made some unimportant remark, which the other did not answer. So they
+walked on in silence. Presently, Cornish glanced at his companion, and
+was startled at the sight of his face, which was grey, and glazed all
+over with perspiration, as an actor's face may sometimes be at the end
+of a great act. Then he remembered that Roden had not spoken for a long
+time.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Didn't you see?" gasped Roden.
+
+"See what?"
+
+"The things they had laid on the table beside him. The things they
+found in his hands and his pockets."
+
+"The knife, you mean," said Cornish, whose nerves were worthy of the
+blood that flowed in his veins, "and some letters?"
+
+"Yes; the knife was mine. Everybody knows it. It is an old dagger that
+has always lain on a table in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes."
+
+"I have never been in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes, except
+once by lamplight," said Cornish, indifferently.
+
+Roden turned and looked at him with eyes still dull with fear.
+
+"And among the letters was the one you wrote to me making the
+appointment. He must have stolen it from the pocket of my office coat,
+which I never wear while I am working." Cornish was nodding his head
+slowly. "I see," he said, at length--"I see. It was a pretty _coup_. To
+kill me, and fix the crime on you--and hang you?"
+
+"Yes," said Roden, with a sudden laugh, which neither forgot to his
+dying day.
+
+They walked on in silence. For there are times in nearly every man's
+life when events seem suddenly to outpace thought, and we can only act
+as seems best at the moment; times when the babbler is still and the
+busybody at rest; times when the cleverest of us must recognize that
+the long and short of it all is that man agitates himself and God leads
+him. At the corner of the Vyverberg they parted--Cornish to return to
+his hotel, Roden to go back to the works. His carriage was awaiting him
+in a shady corner of the Binnenhof. For Roden had his carriage now,
+and, like many possessing suddenly such a vehicle, spent much time and
+thought in getting his money's worth out of it.
+
+"If you want me, send for me, or come to the hotel," were Cornish's
+last words, as he shut the successful financier into his brougham.
+
+At the hotel, Cornish found Mr. Wade and Marguerite lingering over a
+late breakfast.
+
+"You look," said Marguerite, "as if you had been up to something." She
+glanced at him shrewdly. "Have you smashed Roden's Corner?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," answered Cornish, turning to Mr. Wade; "and if you will come out
+into the garden, I will tell you how it has been done. Monsieur Creil
+said that the paper-makers could begin supplying themselves with
+malgamite at a day's notice. We must give them that notice this
+morning."
+
+Mr. Wade, who was never hurried and never late, paused at the open
+window to light his cigar before following Marguerite.
+
+"Ah," he said placidly, "then fortune must have favored you, or
+something has happened to Von Holzen."
+
+Cornish knew that it was useless to attempt to conceal anything
+whatsoever from the discerning Marguerite, so--in the quiet garden of
+the hotel, where the doves murmur sleepily on the tiles, and the breeze
+only stirs the flowers and shrubs sufficiently to disseminate their
+scents--he told father and daughter the end of Roden's Corner.
+
+They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and
+telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events,
+when Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
+
+She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden
+arrival.
+
+"Is Percy here?" she asked Cornish. "Have you seen him this morning?"
+
+"He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the
+Vyverberg. He was going down to the works."
+
+"Then he never got there," said Dorothy. "I have had nearly all the
+malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if
+Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a
+report that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?" "Yes. Von Holzen is
+dead."
+
+"And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out
+the profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury.
+They would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but----"
+
+"But they were afraid of you, my dear," said Mr. Wade, filling in the
+blank that Dorothy left.
+
+"Yes," she admitted.
+
+"Well played," muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
+
+Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. "I will go down to
+the works," he said.
+
+"But you cannot go there alone," put in Dorothy, quickly.
+
+"He will not need to do that," said Mr. Wade, throwing the end of his
+cigar into the bushes, and rising heavily from his chair.
+
+Marguerite looked at her father with a little upward jerk of the head
+and a light in her eyes. It was quite evident that she approved of the
+old gentleman.
+
+"He's a game old thing," she said, aside to Dorothy, while her father
+collected his papers.
+
+"Your brother has probably been warned in time, and will not go near
+the works," said Cornish to Dorothy. "He was more than prepared for
+such an emergency; for he told me himself that he was half afraid of
+the men. He is almost sure to come to me here--in fact, he promised to
+do so if he wanted help."
+
+Dorothy looked at him, and said nothing. The world would be a simpler
+dwelling-place if those who, for one reason or another, cannot say
+exactly what they mean would but keep silence.
+
+Cornish told her, hurriedly, what had happened twelve hours ago on the
+bank of the Queen's Canal; and the thought of the misspent, crooked
+life that had ended in the black waters of that sluggish tideway made
+them all silent for a while. For death is in itself dignified, and
+demands respect for all with whom he has dealings. Many attain the
+distinction of vice in life, while more only reach the mere mediocrity
+of foolishness; but in death all are equally dignified. We may, indeed,
+assume that we shall, by dying, at last command the respect of even our
+nearest relations and dearest friend--for a week or two, until they
+forget us.
+
+"He was a clever man," commented Mr. Wade, shutting up his gold pencil
+case and putting it in the pocket of his comfortable waistcoat. "But
+clever men are rarely happy----"
+
+"And clever women--never," added Marguerite--that shrewd seeker after
+the last word.
+
+While they were still speaking, Percy Roden came hurriedly down the
+steps. He was pale and tired, but his eye had a light of resolution in
+it. He held his head up, and looked at Cornish with a steady glance.
+It seemed that the vague danger which he had anticipated so nervously
+had come at last, and that he stood like a man in the presence of it.
+
+"It is all up," he said. "They have found the books; they have
+understood them; and they are wrecking the place."
+
+"They are quite welcome to do that," said Cornish. Mr. Wade, who was
+always business-like, had reopened his writing-case when he saw Roden,
+and now came forward to hand him a written paper.
+
+"That is a copy," he said, "of the telegram we have sent to Creil. He
+can come here and select what men he wants--the steady ones and the
+skilled workmen. With each man we will hand him a cheque in trust. The
+others can take their money--and go."
+
+"And drink themselves to death as expeditiously as they think fit,"
+added Cornish, the philanthropist--the fashionable drawing-room
+champion of the masses.
+
+"I got back here through the Wood," said Percy Roden, who was still
+breathless, as if he had been hurrying. "One of them, a Swede, came to
+warn me. They are looking for me in the town--a hundred and twenty of
+them, and not one who cares that"--he paused, and gave a snap of the
+fingers--"for his life or the law. Both railway stations are watched,
+and all the steam-boat stations on the canals; they will kill me if
+they catch me."
+
+His eyes wavered, for there is nothing more terrifying than the avowed
+hostility of a mass of men, and no law grimmer than lynch-law. Yet he
+held up his head with a sort of pride in his danger--some touch of that
+subtle sense of personal distinction which seems to reach the heart of
+the victim of an accident, or of a prisoner in the dock.
+
+"If I had not met that Swede I should have gone on to the works, and
+they would have pulled me to pieces there," continued Roden. "I do not
+know how I am to get away from The Hague, or where I shall be safe in
+the whole world; but the money is at Hamburg and Antwerp. The money is
+safe enough."
+
+He gave a laugh and threw back his head. His hearers looked at him, and
+Mr. Wade alone understood his thoughts. For the banker had dealt with
+money-makers all his life and knew that to many men, money is a god,
+and the mere possession of it dearer to them than life itself.
+
+"If you stay here, in my room upstairs," said Cornish, "I will go down
+to the works now. And this evening I will try and get you away from The
+Hague--and from Europe."
+
+"And I will go to the Villa des Dunes again," added Dorothy, "and pack
+your things."
+
+Marguerite had risen also, and was moving towards the steps.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked her father.
+
+"To the Villa des Dunes," she replied; and, turning to Dorothy, added,
+"I shall take some clothes and stay with you there until things
+straighten themselves out a bit."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I cannot let you go there alone."
+
+"Why not?" asked Dorothy.
+
+"Because--I am not that sort," said Marguerite; and, turning, she
+ascended the iron steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+ROUND THE CORNER.
+
+"Les heureux ne rient pas; ils sourient."
+
+
+Soon after Mr. Wade and Cornish had quitted their carriage, on that
+which is known as the New Scheveningen Road, and were walking across
+the dunes to the malgamite works, they met a policeman running towards
+them.
+
+"It is," he answered breathlessly, to their inquiries--"it is the
+English Chemical Works on the dunes, which have caught fire. I am
+hurrying to the Artillery Station to telegraph for the fire-engines;
+but it will be useless. It will all be over in half an hour--by this
+wind and after so much dry weather; see the black smoke, excellencies."
+
+And the man pointed towards a column of smoke, blown out over the
+sand-hills by the strong wind, characteristic of these flat coasts.
+Then, with a hurried salutation, he ran on.
+
+Cornish and Mr. Wade proceeded more leisurely on their way; for the
+banker was not of a build to hurry even to a fire. Before they had gone
+far they perceived another man coming across the Dunes towards The
+Hague. As he approached, Cornish recognized the man known as Uncle Ben.
+He was shambling along on unsteady legs, and carried his earthly
+belongings in a canvas sack of doubtful cleanliness. The recognition
+was apparently mutual; for Uncle Ben deviated from his path to come and
+speak to them.
+
+"It's me, mister," he said to Cornish, not disrespectfully. "And I
+don't mind tellin' yer that I'm makin' myself scarce. That place is
+gettin' a bit too hot for me. They're just pullin' it down and makin' a
+bonfire of it. And if you or Mr. Roden goes there, they'll just take
+and chuck yer on top of it--and that's God's truth. They're a rough lot
+some of them, and they don't distinguish 'tween you and Mr. Roden like
+as I do. Soddim and Gomorrer, I say. Soddim and Gomorrer! There won't
+be nothin' left of yer in half an hour." And he turned and shook a
+dirty fist towards the rising smoke, which was all that remained of the
+malgamite works. He hurried on a few paces, then stopped and laid down
+his bag. He ran back, calling out "Mister!" as he neared Cornish and
+Mr. Wade. "I don't mind tellin' yer," he said to Cornish, with a
+ludicrous precautionary look round the deserted dunes to make sure that
+he would not be overheard; for he was sober, and consequently
+stupid--"I don't mind tellin' yer--seein' as I'm makin' myself scarce,
+and for the sake o' Miss Roden, who has always been a good friend to
+me--as there's a hundred and twenty of 'em looking for Mr. Roden at this
+minute, meanin' to twist his neck; and what's worse, there's
+others--men of dedication like myself--who has gone to the
+murder, or something. And they'll get it too, with the story they've got
+to tell, and them poor devils planted thick as taters in the cheap corner
+of the cemetery. I've warned yer, mister." Uncle Ben expectorated with
+much emphasis, looked towards the malgamite works with a dubious shake
+of the head, and went on his way, muttering, "Soddim and Gomorrer."
+
+His hearers walked on over the sand-hills towards the smoke, of which
+the pungent odour, still faintly suggestive of sealing-wax, reached
+their nostrils. At the top of a high dune, surmounted with considerable
+difficulty, Mr. Wade stopped. Cornish stood beside him, and from that
+point of vantage they saw the last of the malgamite works. Amid the
+flames and smoke the forms of men flitted hither and thither, adding
+fuel to the fire.
+
+"They are, at all events, doing the business thoroughly," said the
+banker. "And there is nothing to be gained by our disturbing them at
+it--and a good deal to be lost--namely, our lives. They are not burning
+the cottages, I see; only the factory. There is nothing heroic about
+me, Tony. Let us go back."
+
+But Mr. Wade returned to The Hague alone; for Cornish had matters of
+importance requiring his attention. It was now doubly necessary to get
+Roden safely away from Holland, and with the necessity increased the
+difficulty. For Holland is a small country, well watched, highly
+civilized. Cornish knew that it would be next to impossible for Roden
+to leave the country by rail or road. There remained, therefore, the
+sea. Cornish had, during his sojourn at the humble Swan at
+Scheveningen, made certain friends there. And it was to the old village
+under the dunes, little known to visitors, and a place apart from the
+fashionable bathing resort, that he went in his difficulty. He spent
+nearly the whole day in these narrow streets; indeed, he lunched at the
+Swan in company of a seafaring gentleman clad in soft blue flannel, and
+addicted to the mediaeval coiffure still affected in certain parts of
+Zeeland.
+
+From this quiet retreat Cornish also wrote a note to Dorothy at the
+Villa des Dunes, informing her of Roden's new danger, and warning her
+not to attempt to communicate with her brother, or even send him his
+baggage. In the afternoon Cornish made a few purchases, which he duly
+packed in a sailor's kit-bag, and at nightfall Roden arrived on foot.
+
+The weather was squally, as it often is in August on these coasts;
+indeed, the summer seemed to have come to an end before its time.
+
+"It is raining like the deuce," said Roden, "and I am wet through,
+though I came under the trees of the Oude Weg."
+
+He spoke with his usual suggestion of a grievance, which made Cornish
+answer him rather curtly--"We shall be wetter before we get on board."
+
+It was raining when they quitted the modest Swan, and hurried through
+the sparsely lighted, winding streets. Cornish had borrowed two
+oil-skin coats and caps, which at once disguised them and protected
+them from the rain. Any passer-by would have taken them for a couple of
+fishermen going about their business. But there were few in the
+streets.
+
+"Why are you doing all this for me?" asked Roden, suddenly.
+"To avoid a scandal," replied Cornish, truthfully enough; for he had
+been brought up in a world where the longevity of scandal is fully
+understood.
+
+The wide stretch of sand was entirely deserted when they emerged from
+the narrow streets and gained the summit of the sea-wall. A
+thunderstorm was growling in the distance, and every moment a flash of
+thin summer lightning shimmered on the horizon. The wind was strong, as
+it nearly always is here, and shallow white surf stretched seaward
+across the flats. The sea roared continuously without that rise and
+fall of the breakers which marks a deeper coast, and from the face of
+the water there arose a filmy mist--part foam, part phosphorescence.
+
+As Roden and Cornish passed the little lighthouse, two policemen
+emerged from the shadow of the wall, and watched them, half
+suspiciously. "Good evening," said one of them.
+
+"Good evening," answered Cornish, mimicking the sing-song accent of the
+Scheveningen streets.
+
+They walked on in silence.
+"Whew!" ejaculated Roden, when the danger seemed to be past, and they
+could breathe again.
+
+They went down a flight of steps to the beach, and stumbled across the
+soft sand towards the sea. One or two boats were lying out in the
+surf--heavy Dutch fishing-boats, known technically as "pinks,"
+flat-bottomed, round-prowed, keel less, heavy and ungainly vessels, but
+strong as wood and iron and workmanship could make them. Some seemed to
+be afloat, others bumped heavily and continuously; while a few lay
+stolidly on the ground with the waves breaking right over them as over
+rocks.
+
+The noise of the sea was so great that Cornish touched his companion's
+arm, and pointed, without speaking, to one of the vessels where a light
+twinkled feebly through the spray breaking over her. It seemed to be
+the only vessel preparing to go to sea on the high tide, and, in truth,
+the weather looked anything but encouraging.
+
+"How are we going to get on board?" shouted Roden, amid the roar of the
+waves.
+
+"Walk," answered Cornish, and he led the way into the sea.
+
+Hampered as they were by their heavy oil skins, their progress was
+slow, although the water barely reached their knees. The _Three
+Brothers_ was bumping when they reached her and clambered on board over
+the bluff sides, sticky with salt water and tar.
+
+"She'll be afloat in ten minutes," said a man in oil-skins, who helped
+them over the low bulwarks. He spoke good English, and seemed to have
+learned some of the taciturnity of the seafaring portion of that nation
+with their language; for he went aft to the tiller without more words
+and took his station there.
+
+Roden seated himself on the rail and looked back towards Scheveningen.
+Cornish stood beside him in silence. The spray broke over them
+continuously, and the boat rolled and bumped in such a manner that it
+was impossible to stand or even sit without holding on to the clumsy
+rigging.
+
+The lights of Scheveningen were stretched out in a line before them;
+the lighthouse winked a glaring eye that seemed to stare over their
+heads far out to sea. The summer lightning showed the sands to be bare
+and deserted. There were no unusual lights on the sea wall. The Kurhaus
+and the hotels were illuminated and gay. The shore took no heed of the
+sea tonight.
+
+"We've succeeded," said Roden, curtly, and quite suddenly he rolled
+over in a faint at Cornish's feet.
+
+The next morning, Dorothy received a letter at the Villa des Dunes,
+posted the evening before by Cornish at Scheveningen.
+
+"We hope to get away tonight," he wrote, "in the 'pink,' the _Three
+Brothers_. Our intention is to knock about the North Sea until we find
+a suitable vessel--either a sailing ship trading between Norway and
+Spain on its way south, or a steamer going direct from Hamburg to South
+America. When I have seen your brother safely on board one of these
+vessels, I shall return in the _Three Brothers_ to Scheveningen. She is
+a small boat, and has a large white patch of new canvas at the top of
+her mainsail. So if you see her coming in, or waiting for the tide, you
+may conclude that your brother is in safety."
+
+Later in the day, Mr. Wade called, having driven from The Hague very
+comfortably in an open carriage.
+
+"The house," he said placidly, "is still watched, but I have no doubt
+that Tony has outwitted them all. Creil arrived last night, and seems a
+capable man. He tells me that half of the malgamiters are in jail at
+The Hague for intoxication and uproariousness last night. He is
+selecting those he wants, and the rest he will send to their homes. So
+we are balancing our affairs very comfortably; and if there is anything
+I can do for you, Miss Roden, I am at your command."
+
+"Oh, Dorothy is all right," said Marguerite, rather hurriedly; and when
+her father took his leave, she slipped her hand within his solid arm,
+and walked with him across the sand towards the carriage. "Haven't you
+seen," she asked--"you old stupid!--that Dorothy is all right? Tony is
+in love with her."
+
+"No," replied the banker, rather humbly--"no, my dear. I am afraid I
+had not noticed it."
+
+Marguerite pressed his arm, not unkindly. "You can't help it," she
+explained. "You are only a man, you know."
+
+The following days were quiet enough at the Villa des Dunes, and it is
+in quiet days that a friendship ripens best. The two girls left there
+scarcely expected to hear of Cornish's return for some days; but they
+fell into the habit of walking towards the sea whenever they went
+out-of-doors, and spent many afternoon hours on the dunes. During these
+hours Dorothy had many confidential and lively conversations with her
+new-found friend. Indeed, confidence and gaiety were so bewilderingly
+mingled that Dorothy did not always understand her companion.
+
+One afternoon, three days after the departure of Percy Roden, when Von
+Holzen was buried, and the authorities had expressed themselves content
+with the verdict that he had come accidentally by his death, Marguerite
+took occasion to congratulate herself, and all concerned, in the fact
+that what she vaguely called "things" were beginning to straighten
+themselves out.
+
+"We are round the corner," she said decisively. "And now papa and I
+shall go home again, and Miss Williams will come back. Miss
+Williams--oh, lord! She is one of those women who have a stick inside
+them instead of a heart. And papa will trot out his young men--likely
+young men from the city. Papa married the bank, you know. And he wants
+ me to marry another bank and live gorgeously ever afterwards. Poor old
+dear!"
+
+"I think he would rather you were happy than gorgeous," said Dorothy,
+with a laugh, who had seen some of the honest banker's perplexity with
+regard to this most delicate financial affair.
+
+"Perhaps he would. At all events, he does his best--his very best. He
+has tried at least fifty of these gentle swains since I came back from
+Dresden--red hair and a temper, black hair and an excellent opinion of
+one's self, fair hair and stupidity. But they wouldn't do--they
+wouldn't do, Dorothy!"
+
+Marguerite paused, and made a series of holes in the sand with her
+walking-stick.
+
+"There was only one," she said quietly, at length. "I suppose there is
+always--only one--eh, Dorothy?"
+
+"I suppose so," answered Dorothy, looking straight in front of her.
+
+Marguerite was silent for a while, looking out to sea with a queer
+little twist of the lips that made her look older--almost a woman. One
+could imagine what she would be like when she was middle-aged, or quite
+old, perhaps.
+
+"He would have done," she said. "Quite easily. He was a million times
+cleverer than the rest--a million times--well, he was quite different,
+I don't know how. But he was paternal. He thought he was much too old,
+so he didn't try----"
+
+She broke off with a light laugh, and her confidential manner was gone
+in a flash. She stuck her stick firmly into the ground, and threw
+herself back on the soft sand.
+
+"So," she cried gaily. _"Vogue la galere_. It's all for the best. That
+is the right thing to say when it cannot be helped, and it obviously
+isn't for the best. But everybody says it, and it is always wise to
+pass in with the crowd, and be conventional--if you swing for it."
+
+She broke off suddenly, looking at her companion's face. A few boats
+had been leisurely making for the shore all the afternoon before a
+light wind, and Dorothy had been watching them. They were coming closer
+now.
+
+"Dorothy, do you see the _Three Brothers_?"
+
+"That is the _Three Brothers_," answered Dorothy, pointing with her
+walking-stick.
+
+For a time they were silent, until, indeed, the boat with the patched
+sail had taken the ground gently, a few yards from the shore. A number
+of men landed from her, some of them carrying baskets of fish. One,
+walking apart, made for the dunes, in the direction of the New
+Scheveningen Road.
+
+"And that is Tony," said Marguerite. "I should know his walk--if I saw
+him coming out of the Ark, which, by the way, must have been rather
+like the _Three Brothers_ to look at. He has taken your brother safely
+away, and now he is coming--to take you."
+
+"He may remember that I am Percy's sister," suggested Dorothy.
+
+"It doesn't matter whose sister you are," was the decisive reply.
+"Nothing matters"--Marguerite rose slowly, and shook the sand from her
+dress--"nothing matters, except one thing, and that appears to be a
+matter of absolute chance."
+
+She climbed slowly to the summit of the dune under which they had been
+sitting, and there, pausing, she looked back. She nodded gaily down at
+Dorothy. Then suddenly, she held out her hands before her, and Cornish,
+looking up, saw her slim young form poised against the sky in a mock
+attitude of benediction.
+
+"Bless you, my dears," she cried, and with a short laugh turned and
+walked towards the Villa des Dunes.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9324.txt or 9324.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/9/3/2/9324/
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/9324.zip b/9324.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db11d02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/9324.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7067e3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #9324 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9324)
diff --git a/old/8rodn10.zip b/old/8rodn10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2577b64
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/8rodn10.zip
diff --git a/old/9324-h.htm.2021-01-26 b/old/9324-h.htm.2021-01-26
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67d1be1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/9324-h.htm.2021-01-26
@@ -0,0 +1,12170 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+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: Roden's Corner
+
+Author: Henry Seton Merriman
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9324]
+This file was first posted on September 22, 2003
+Last Updated: March 12, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+
+
+
+Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+    <div style="height: 8em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h1>
+      RODEN'S CORNER
+    </h1>
+    <h2>
+      By Henry Seton Merriman
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      1913
+    </h3>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                       &ldquo;'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
+                       Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
+                         Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
+                       And one by one back in the Closet lays&rdquo;
+      </pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <b>CONTENTS</b>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. WORK OR PLAY? </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. BEGINNING AT HOME. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. A NEW DISCIPLE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. OUT OF EGYPT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. ON THE DUNES. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. OFFICIAL. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. DEEPER WATER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. IN THE OUDE WEG. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. SUBURBAN </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. UNSOUND. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. PLAIN SPEAKING. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. DANGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. A COMPLICATION. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. DANGER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. FROM THE PAST. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. A COMBINED FORCE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. GRATITUDE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. CLEARING THE AIR </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. COMMERCE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. WITH CARE. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. A LESSON. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. AT THE CORNER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p class="toc">
+      <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER. </a>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I. IN ST. JACOB STRAAT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+   &ldquo;The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Professor von Holzen,&rdquo; said a stout woman who still keeps the
+      egg and butter shop at the corner of St. Jacob Straat in The Hague; she is
+      a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob Straat and its
+      neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live&mdash;&ldquo;it is the
+      Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or twice a week. He is a
+      good man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His coat is of a good cloth,&rdquo; answered her customer, a young man with a
+      melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things of
+      this world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
+      Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within the
+      doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages. During the
+      daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough, see furtive
+      faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women, who never seem
+      to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those unwashed curtains, with
+      carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere which may be faintly
+      imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop below. The pavement of St.
+      Jacob Straat is also pressed into the service of that commerce in old
+      metal and damaged domestic utensils which seems to enable thousands of the
+      accursed people to live and thrive according to their lights. It will be
+      observed that the vendors, with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred
+      of experience, only expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads,
+      stoves, and other heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of
+      foot. Within the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand
+      miscellaneous effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this
+      street. Even the children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep
+      expressionless eyes and drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the
+      gravity of life, and rarely indulge in games.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He whom the butter-merchant described as Professor von Holzen passed
+      quickly along the middle of the street, with an air suggesting a desire to
+      attract as little attention as possible. He was a heavy-shouldered man
+      with a bad mouth&mdash;a greedy mouth, one would think&mdash;and mild
+      eyes. The month was September, and the professor wore a thin black
+      overcoat closely buttoned across his broad chest. He carried a pair of
+      slate-coloured gloves and an umbrella. His whole appearance bespoke
+      learning and middle-class respectability. It is, after all, no use being
+      learned without looking learned, and Professor von Holzen took care to
+      dress according to his station in life. His attitude towards the world
+      seemed to say, &ldquo;Leave me alone and I will not trouble you,&rdquo; which is,
+      after all, as satisfactory an attitude as may be desired. It is, at all
+      events, better than the common attitude of the many, that says, &ldquo;Let us
+      exchange confidences,&rdquo; leading to the barter of two valueless commodities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat&mdash;one of
+      the oldest houses in this old street&mdash;and slowly lighted a cigar.
+      There is a shop on the ground-floor of No. 15, where ancient pieces of
+      stove-pipe and a few fire-irons are exposed for sale. Von Holzen, having
+      pushed open the door, stood waiting at the foot of a narrow and grimy
+      staircase. He knew that in such a shop in such a quarter of the town there
+      is always a human spider lurking in the background, who steals out upon
+      any human fly that may pause to look at the wares.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This spider presently appeared&mdash;a wizened woman with a face like that
+      of a witch. Von Holzen pointed upward to the room above them. She shook
+      her head regretfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still alive,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the professor turned toward the stair, but paused at the bottom step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; he said, extending his fingers. &ldquo;Some milk. How much has he had?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two jugs,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;and three jugs of water. One would say he has a
+      fire inside him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So he has,&rdquo; said the professor, with a grim smile, as he went upstairs.
+      He ascended slowly, puffing out the smoke of his cigar before him with a
+      certain skill, so that his progress was a form of fumigation. The fear of
+      infection is the only fear to which men will own, and it is hard to
+      understand why this form of cowardice should be less despicable than
+      others. Von Holzen was a German, and that nation combines courage with so
+      deep a caution that mistaken persons sometimes think the former adjunct
+      lacking. The mark of a wound across his cheek told that in his student
+      days this man had, after due deliberation, considered it necessary to
+      fight. Some, looking at Von Holzen's face, might wonder what mark the
+      other student bore as a memento of that encounter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen pushed open a door that stood ajar at the head of the stair,
+      and went slowly into the room, preceded by a puff of smoke. The place was
+      not full of furniture, properly speaking, although it was littered with
+      many household effects which had no business in a bedroom. It was, indeed,
+      used as a storehouse for such wares as the proprietor of the shop only
+      offered to a chosen few. The atmosphere of the room must have been a very
+      Tower of Babel, where strange foreign bacilli from all parts of the world
+      rose up and wrangled in the air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon a sham Empire table, <i>très antique</i>, near the window, stood
+      three water-jugs and a glass of imitation Venetian work. A yellow hand
+      stretching from a dark heap of bedclothes clutched the glass and held it
+      out, empty, when Von Holzen came into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have sent for milk,&rdquo; said the professor, smoking hard, and heedful not
+      to look too closely into the dark corner where the bed was situated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are kind,&rdquo; said a voice, and it was impossible to guess whether its
+      tone was sarcastic or grateful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen looked at the empty water-jugs with a smile, and shrugged his
+      shoulders. His intention had perhaps been a kind one. A bad mouth usually
+      indicates a soft heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is because you have something to gain,&rdquo; said the hollow voice from the
+      bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have something to gain, but I can do without it,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen,
+      turning to the door and taking a jug of milk from the hand of a child
+      waiting there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the change,&rdquo; he said sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The child laughed cunningly, and held out two small copper coins of the
+      value of half a cent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen filled the tumbler and handed it to the sick man, who a moment
+      later held it out empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have as much as you like,&rdquo; said Von Holzen, kindly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will it keep me alive?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing can do that, my friend,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen. He looked down at
+      the yellow face peering at him from the darkness. It seemed to be the face
+      of a very aged man, with eyes wide open and blood-shot. A thickness of
+      speech was accounted for by the absence of teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man laughed gleefully. &ldquo;All the same, I have lived longer than any of
+      them,&rdquo; he said. How many of us pride ourselves upon possessing an
+      advantage which others never covet!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, gravely. &ldquo;How old are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly thirty-five,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen nodded, and, turning on his heel, looked thoughtfully out of
+      the window. The light fell full on his face, which would have been a fine
+      one were the mouth hidden. The eyes were dark and steady. A high forehead
+      looked higher by reason of a growth of thick hair standing nearly an inch
+      upright from the scalp, like the fur of a beaver in life, without curl or
+      ripple. The chin was long and pointed. A face, this, that any would turn
+      to look at again. One would think that such a man would get on in the
+      world. But none may judge of another in this respect. It is a strange fact
+      that intimacy with any who has made for himself a great name leads to the
+      inevitable conclusion that he is unworthy of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wonderful!&rdquo; murmured Von Holzen&mdash;&ldquo;wonderful! Nearly thirty-five!&rdquo;
+       And it was hard to say what his thoughts really were. The only sound that
+      came from the bed was the sound of drinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I know more about the trade than any, for I was brought up to it from
+      boyhood,&rdquo; said the dying man, with an uncanny bravado. &ldquo;I did not wait
+      until I was driven to it, like most.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you were skilful, as I have been told.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not all skill&mdash;not all skill,&rdquo; piped the metallic voice,
+      indistinctly. &ldquo;There was knowledge also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen, standing with his hands in the pockets of his thin overcoat,
+      shrugged his shoulders. They had arrived by an oft-trodden path to an
+      ancient point of divergence. Presently Von Holzen turned and went towards
+      the bed. The yellow hand and arm lay stretched out across the table, and
+      Holzen's finger softly found the pulse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are weaker,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is only right that I should tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man did not answer, but lay back, breathing quickly. Something seemed
+      to catch in his throat. Von Holzen went to the door, and furtive steps
+      moved away down the dark staircase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go,&rdquo; he said authoritatively, &ldquo;for the doctor, at once.&rdquo; Then he came
+      back towards the bed. &ldquo;Will you take my price?&rdquo; he said to its occupant.
+      &ldquo;I offer it to you for the last time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A thousand gulden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is too little money,&rdquo; replied the dying man. &ldquo;Make it twelve hundred.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen turned away to the window again thoughtfully. A silence seemed
+      to have fallen over the busy streets, to fill the untidy room. The angel
+      of death, not for the first time, found himself in company with the greed
+      of men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will do that,&rdquo; said Von Holzen at length, &ldquo;as you are dying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you the money with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the dying man, regretfully. It was only natural, perhaps, that
+      he was sorry that he had not asked more. &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did as he was bidden. He had also a pocket-book and pencil in
+      readiness. Slowly, as if drawing from the depths of a long-stored memory,
+      the dying man dictated a prescription in a mixture of dog-Latin and Dutch,
+      which his hearer seemed to understand readily enough. The money, in
+      dull-coloured notes, lay on the table before the writer. The prescription
+      was a long one, covering many pages of the note-book, and the particulars
+      as to preparation and temperature of the various liquid ingredients filled
+      up another two pages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; said the dying man at length, &ldquo;I have treated you fairly. I have
+      told you all I know. Give me the money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen crossed the room and placed the notes within the yellow
+      fingers, which closed over them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said the recipient, &ldquo;I have had more than that in my hand. I was
+      rich once, and I spent it all in Amsterdam. Now read over your writing. I
+      will treat you fairly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen stood by the window and read aloud from his book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the other. &ldquo;One sees that you took your diploma at Leyden. You
+      have made no mistake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen closed the book and replaced it in his pocket. His face bore no
+      sign of exultation. His somewhat phlegmatic calm successfully concealed
+      the fact that he had at last obtained information which he had long
+      sought. A cart rattled past over the cobble-stones, making speech
+      inaudible for the moment. The man moved uneasily on the bed. Von Holzen
+      went towards him and poured out more milk. Instead of reaching out for it,
+      the sick man's hand lay on the coverlet. The notes were tightly held by
+      three fingers; the free finger and the thumb picked at the counterpane.
+      Von Holzen bent over the bed and examined the face. The sick man's eyes
+      were closed. Suddenly he spoke in a mumbling voice&mdash;&ldquo;And now that you
+      have what you want, you will go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, in a kind voice, &ldquo;I will not do that. I will
+      stay with you if you do not want to be left alone. You are brave, at all
+      events. I shall be horribly afraid when it comes to my turn to die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would not be afraid if you had lived a life such as mine. Death
+      cannot be worse, at all events.&rdquo; And the man laughed contentedly enough,
+      as one who, having passed through evil days, sees the end of them at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen made no answer. He went to the window and opened it, letting in
+      the air laden with the clean scent of burning peat, which makes the
+      atmosphere of The Hague unlike that of any other town; for here is a city
+      with the smell of a village in its busy streets. The German scientist
+      stood looking out, and into the room came again that strange silence. It
+      was an odd room in which to die, for every article in it was what is known
+      as an antiquity; and although some of these relics of the past had been
+      carefully manufactured in a back shop in Bezem Straat, others were really
+      of ancient date. The very glass from which the dying man drank his milk
+      dated from the glorious days of Holland when William the Silent pitted his
+      Northern stubbornness and deep diplomacy against the fire and fanaticism
+      of Alva. Many objects in the room had a story, had been in the daily use
+      of hands long since vanished, could tell the history of half a dozen human
+      lives lived out and now forgotten. The air itself smelt of age and
+      mouldering memories.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen came towards the bed without speaking, and stood looking down.
+      Never a talkative man, he was now further silenced by the shadow that lay
+      over the stricken face of his companion. The sick man was breathing very
+      slowly. He glanced at Von Holzen for a moment, and then returned to the
+      dull contemplation of the opposite wall. Quite suddenly his breath caught.
+      There were long pauses during which he seemed to cease to breathe. Then at
+      length followed a pause which merged itself gently into eternity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen waited a few minutes, and then bent over the bed and softly
+      unclasped the dead man's hand, taking from it the crumpled notes.
+      Mechanically he counted them, twelve hundred gulden in all, and restored
+      them to the pocket from which he had taken them half an hour earlier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked to the window and waited. When at length the district doctor
+      arrived, Von Holzen turned to greet him with a stiff bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid, Herr Doctor,&rdquo; he said, in German, &ldquo;You are too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II. WORK OR PLAY?
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+       &ldquo;Get work, get work;
+   Be sure 'tis better than what you work to get.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Two men were driving in a hansom cab westward through Cockspur Street.
+      One, a large individual of a bovine placidity, wore the Queen's uniform,
+      and carried himself with a solid dignity faintly suggestive of a
+      lighthouse. The other, a narrower man, with a keen, fair face and eyes
+      that had an habitual smile, wore another uniform&mdash;that of society. He
+      was well dressed, and, what is rarer carried his fine clothes with such
+      assurance that their fineness seemed not only natural but indispensable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sic transit the glory of this world,&rdquo; he was saying. At this moment three
+      men on the pavement&mdash;the usual men on the pavement at such times&mdash;turned
+      and looked into the cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ere's White!&rdquo; cried one of them. &ldquo;White&mdash;dash his eyes! Brayvo!
+      brayvo, White!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And all three raised a shout which seemed to be taken up vaguely in
+      various parts of Trafalgar Square, and finally died away in the distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is it,&rdquo; said the young man in the frock-coat; &ldquo;that is the glory of
+      this world. Listen to it passing away. There is a policeman touching his
+      helmet. Ah, what a thing it is to be Major White&mdash;to-day! To morrow&mdash;<i>bonjour
+      la gloire</i>!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White, who had dropped his single eye-glass a minute earlier, sat
+      squarely looking out upon the world with a mild surprise. The eye from
+      which the glass had fallen was even more surprised than the other. But
+      this, it seemed, was a man upon whom the passing world made, as a rule,
+      but a passing impression. His attitude towards it was one of dense
+      tolerance. He was, in fact, one of those men who usually allow their
+      neighbours to live in a fool's-paradise, based upon the assumption of a
+      blindness or a stupidity or an indifference, which may or may not be
+      justified by subsequent events.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was, as Tony Cornish, his companion, had hinted, <i>the</i> White of
+      the moment. Just as the reader may be the Jones or the Tomkins of the
+      moment if his soul thirst for glory. Crime and novel-writing are the two
+      broad roads to notoriety, but Major White had practiced neither felony nor
+      fiction. He had merely attended to his own and his country's business in a
+      solid, common-sense way in one of those obscure and tight places into
+      which the British officer frequently finds himself forced by the
+      unwieldiness of the empire or the indiscretion of an effervescent press.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That he had extricated himself and his command from the tight place, with
+      much glory to themselves and an increased burden to the cares of the
+      Colonial Office, was a fact which a grateful country was at this moment
+      doing its best to recognize. That the authorities and those who knew him
+      could not explain how he had done it any more than he himself could, was
+      another fact which troubled him as little. Major White was wise in that he
+      did not attempt to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That sort of thing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;generally comes right in the end.&rdquo; And the
+      affair may thus be consigned to that pigeon-hole of the past in which are
+      filed for future reference cases where brilliant men have failed and
+      unlikely ones have covered themselves with sudden and transient glory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been a review of the troops that had taken part in a short and
+      satisfactory expedition of which, by what is usually called a lucky
+      chance, White found himself the hero. He was not of the material of which
+      heroes are made; but that did not matter. The world will take a man and
+      make a hero of him without pausing to inquire of what stuff he may be.
+      Nay, more, it will take a man's name and glorify it without so much as
+      inquiring to what manner of person the name belongs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish, who went everywhere and saw everything, was of course
+      present at the review, and knew all the best people there. He passed from
+      carriage to carriage in his smart way, saying the right thing to the right
+      people in the right words, failing to see the wrong people quite in the
+      best manner, and conscious of the fact that none could surpass him. Then
+      suddenly, roused to a higher manhood by the tramp of steady feet, by the
+      sight of his lifelong friend White riding at the head of his tanned
+      warriors, this social success forgot himself. He waved his silk hat and
+      shouted himself hoarse, as did the honest plumber at his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's better work than yours nor mine, mister,&rdquo; said the plumber, when
+      the troops were gone; and Tony admitted, with his ready smile, that it was
+      so. A few minutes later Tony found Major White solemnly staring at a small
+      crowd, which as solemnly stared back at him, on the pavement in front of
+      the Horse Guards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, I have a cab waiting for me,&rdquo; he had said; and White followed him
+      with a mildly bewildered patience, pushing his way gently through the
+      crowd as through a herd of oxen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He made no comment, and if he heard sundry whispers of &ldquo;That's 'im,&rdquo; he
+      was not unduly elated. In the cab he sat bolt upright, looking as if his
+      tunic was too tight, as in all probability it was. The day was hot, and
+      after a few jerks he extracted a pocket-handkerchief from his sleeve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I was going to Cambridge Terrace. Joan sent me a card this morning
+      saying that she wanted to see me,&rdquo; explained Tony Cornish. He was a young
+      man who seemed always busy. His long thin legs moved quickly, he spoke
+      quickly, and had a rapid glance. There was a suggestion of superficial
+      haste about him. For an idle man, he had remarkably little time on his
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White took up his eye-glass, examined it with short-sighted earnestness,
+      and screwed it solemnly into his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cambridge Terrace?&rdquo; he said, and stared in front of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Have you seen the Ferribys since your glorious return to these&mdash;er&mdash;shores?&rdquo;
+       As he spoke, Cornish gave only half of his attention. He knew so many
+      people that Piccadilly was a work of considerable effort, and it is
+      difficult to bow gracefully from a hansom cab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't say I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then come in and see them now. We shall find only Joan at home, and she
+      will not mind your fine feathers or the dust and circumstance of war upon
+      your boots. Lady Ferriby will be sneaking about in the direction of
+      Edgware Road&mdash;fish is nearly two pence a pound cheaper there, I
+      understand. My respected uncle is sure to be sunning his waistcoat in
+      Piccadilly. Yes, there he is. Isn't he splendid? How do, uncle?&rdquo; and
+      Cornish waved a grey Suède glove with a gay nod.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are the Ferribys?&rdquo; inquired Major White, who belonged to the curt
+      school.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they seem to be well. Uncle is full of that charity which at all
+      events has its headquarters in the home counties. Aunt&mdash;well, aunt is
+      saving money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Miss Ferriby?&rdquo; inquired White, looking straight in front of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish glanced quickly at his companion. &ldquo;Oh, Joan?&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She is
+      all right. Full of energy, you know&mdash;all the fads in their courses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You get 'em too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes; I get them too. Buttonholes come and buttonholes go. Have you
+      noticed it? They get large. Neapolitan violets all over your left shoulder
+      one day, and no flowers at all the week after.&rdquo; Cornish spoke with a
+      gravity befitting the subject. He was, it seemed a student of human nature
+      in his way. &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he added, laying an impressive forefinger on
+      White's gold-laced cuff, &ldquo;it would never do if the world remained
+      stationary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said the major, darkly. &ldquo;Never.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were talking to pass the time. Joan Ferriby had come between them, as
+      a woman is bound to come between two men sooner or later. Neither knew
+      what the other thought of Joan Ferriby, or if he thought of her at all.
+      Women, it is to be believed, have a pleasant way of mentioning the name of
+      a man with such significance that one of their party changes colour. When
+      next she meets that man she does it again, and perhaps he sees it, and
+      perhaps his vanity, always on the alert, magnifies that unfortunate blush.
+      And they are married, and live unhappily ever afterwards. And&mdash;let us
+      hope there is a hell for gossips. But men are different in their
+      procedure. They are awkward and <i>gauche</i>. They talk of newspaper
+      matters, and on the whole there is less harm done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hansom cab containing these two men pulled up jerkily at the door of
+      No. 9, Cambridge Terrace. Tony Cornish hurried to the door, and rang the
+      bell as if he knew it well. Major White followed him stiffly. They were
+      ushered into a library on the ground floor, and were there received by a
+      young lady, who, pen in hand, sat at a large table littered with newspaper
+      wrappers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am addressing the Haberdashers' Assistants,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but I am very
+      glad to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Joan Ferriby was one of those happy persons who never know a doubt.
+      One must, it seems, be young to enjoy this nineteenth-century immunity.
+      One must be pretty&mdash;it is, at all events, better to be pretty&mdash;and
+      one must dress well. A little knowledge of the world, a decisive way of
+      stating what pass at the moment for facts, a quick manner of speaking&mdash;and
+      the rest comes <i>tout seul</i>. This cocksureness is in the atmosphere of
+      the day, just as fainting and curls and an appealing helplessness were in
+      the atmosphere of an earlier Victorian period.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Ferriby stood, pen in hand, and laughed at the confusion on the table
+      in front of her. She was eminently practical, and quite without that
+      self-consciousness which in a bygone day took the irritating form of
+      coyness. Major White, with whom she shook hands <i>en camarade</i>, gazed
+      at her solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are the Haberdashers' Assistants?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Ferriby sat down with a grave face. &ldquo;Oh, it is a splendid charity,&rdquo;
+       she answered. &ldquo;Tony will tell you all about it. It is an association of
+      which the object is to induce people to give up riding on Saturday
+      afternoons, and to lend their bicycles to haberdashers' assistants who
+      cannot afford to buy them for themselves. Papa is patron.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked quickly from one to the other. He had always felt that
+      Major White was not quite of the world in which Joan and he moved. The
+      major came into it at times, looked around him, and then moved away again
+      into another world, less energetic, less advanced, less rapid in its
+      changes. Cornish had never sought to interest his friend in sundry good
+      works in which Joan, for instance, was interested, and which formed a
+      delightful topic for conversation at teatime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so splendid,&rdquo; said Joan, gathering up her papers, &ldquo;to feel that one
+      is really doing something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she looked up into White's face with an air of grave enthusiasm which
+      made him drop his eye-glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; he answered, rather vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had already seated himself at the table, and was folding the
+      addressed newspaper wrappers over circulars printed on thick note-paper.
+      This seemed a busy world into which White had stepped. He looked rather
+      longingly at the newspaper wrappers and the circulars, and then lapsed
+      into the contemplation of Joan's neat fingers as she too fell to the work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We saw all about you,&rdquo; said the girl, in her bright, decisive way, &ldquo;in
+      the newspapers. Papa read it aloud. He is always reading things aloud now,
+      out of the <i>Times</i>. He thinks it is good practice for the platform, I
+      am sure. We were all&rdquo;&mdash;she paused and banged her energetic fist down
+      upon a pile of folded circulars which seemed to require further pressure&mdash;&ldquo;very
+      proud, you know, to know you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good Lord!&rdquo; ejaculated White, fervently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo; asked Miss Ferriby, looking up. She had expressive eyes,
+      and they now flashed almost angrily. &ldquo;All English people&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       she began, and broke off suddenly, throwing aside the papers and rising
+      quickly to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on White's tunic. &ldquo;Is that a
+      medal?&rdquo; she asked, hurrying towards him. &ldquo;Oh, how splendid! Look, Tony,
+      look! A medal! Is it&rdquo;&mdash;she paused, looking at it closely&mdash;&ldquo;is it&mdash;the
+      Victoria Cross?&rdquo; she asked, and stood looking from one man to the other,
+      her eyes glistening with something more than excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;yes,&rdquo; admitted White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish had risen to his feet also. He held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause. Tony and Joan returned to their circulars in an odd
+      silence. The Haberdashers' Assistants seemed suddenly to have diminished
+      in importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By-the-by,&rdquo; said Joan Ferriby at length, &ldquo;papa wants to see you, Tony. He
+      has a new scheme. Something very large and very important. The only
+      question is whether it is not too large. It is not only in England, but in
+      other countries. A great international affair. Some distressed
+      manufacturers or something. I really do not quite know. That Mr. Roden&mdash;you
+      remember?&mdash;has been to see him about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish nodded in his quick way. &ldquo;I remember Roden,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;The man
+      you met at Hombourg. Tall dark man with a tired manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;He has been to see papa several times. Papa is just
+      as busy as ever with his charities,&rdquo; she continued, addressing White. &ldquo;And
+      I believe he wants you to help him in this one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me?&rdquo; said White, nervously. &ldquo;Oh, I'm no good. I should not know a
+      haberdasher's assistant if I saw him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but this is not the Haberdashers' Assistants,&rdquo; laughed Joan. &ldquo;It is
+      something much more important than that. The Haberdashers' Assistants are
+      only&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pour passer le temps,&rdquo; suggested Cornish, gaily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, of course not. But papa is really rather anxious about this. He says
+      it is much the most important thing he has ever had to do with&mdash;and
+      that is saying a good deal, you know. I wish I could remember the name of
+      it, and of those poor unfortunate people who make it&mdash;whatever it is.
+      It is some stuff, you know, and sounds sticky. Papa has so many charities,
+      and such long names to them. Aunt Susan says it is because he was so wild
+      in his youth&mdash;but one cannot believe that. Would you think that papa
+      had been wild in his youth&mdash;to look at him now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord, no!&rdquo; ejaculated White, with pious solidity, throwing back his
+      shoulders with an air that seemed to suggest a readiness to fight any man
+      who should hint at such a thing, and he waved the mere thought aside with
+      a ponderous gesture of the hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan had, however, already turned to another matter. She was consulting a
+      diary bound in dark blue morocco.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see, now,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Papa told me to make an appointment with
+      you. When can you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish produced a minute engagement-book, and these two busy people put
+      their heads together in the search for a disengaged moment. Not only in
+      mind, but in face and manner, they slightly resembled each other, and
+      might, by the keen-sighted, have been set down at once as cousins. Both
+      were fair and slightly made, both were quick and clever. Both faced the
+      world with an air of energetic intelligence that bespoke their intention
+      of making a mark upon it. Both were liable to be checked in a moment of
+      earnest endeavour by a sudden perception of the humorous, which liability
+      rendered them somewhat superficial, and apt of it lightly from one thought
+      to another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could remember the name of papa's new scheme,&rdquo; said Joan, as she
+      bade them good-bye. When they were in the cab she ran to the door. &ldquo;I
+      remember,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I remember now. It is malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III. BEGINNING AT HOME.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Charity creates much of the misery it relieves, but it does
+     not relieve all the misery it creates.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Charity, as all the world knows, should begin at an &ldquo;at home.&rdquo; Lord
+      Ferriby knew as well as any that there are men, and perhaps even women,
+      who will give largely in order that their names may appear largely and
+      handsomely in the select subscription lists. He also knew that an
+      invitation card in the present is as sure a bait as the promise of bliss
+      hereafter. So Lady Ferriby announced by card (in an open envelope with a
+      halfpenny stamp) that she should be &ldquo;at home&rdquo; to certain persons on a
+      certain evening. And the good and the great flocked to Cambridge Terrace.
+      The good and great are, one finds, a little mixed, from a social point of
+      view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were present at Lady Ferriby's, for instance, a number of ministers,
+      some cabinet, others dissenting. Here, a man leaning against the wall wore
+      a blue ribbon across his shirt front. There, another, looking bigger and
+      more self-confident, had no shirt front at all. His was the cheap
+      distinction of unsuitable clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ha! Miss Ferriby, glad to see you,&rdquo; he said as he entered, holding out a
+      hand which had the usual outward signs of industrial honesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan shook the hand frankly, and its possessor passed on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that the gas-man?&rdquo; inquired Major White, gravely. He had been standing
+      beside her ever since his arrival, seeking, it seemed, the protection of
+      one who understood these social functions. It is to be presumed that the
+      major was less bewildered than he looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; And Joan said something hurriedly in White's large ear. &ldquo;Everybody
+      has him,&rdquo; she concluded; and the explanation brought certain calm into the
+      mildly surprised eye behind the eye-glass. White recognized the phrase and
+      its conclusive contemporary weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a flat-backed man!&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a ring of relief. &ldquo;Been
+      drilled, this man. Gad! He's proud!&rdquo; added the major, as the new-comer
+      passed Joan with rather a cold bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's the detective,&rdquo; explained Joan. &ldquo;So many people, you know; and
+      so mixed. Everybody has them. Here's Tony&mdash;at last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish was indeed making his way through the crowd towards them. He
+      shook hands with a bishop as he elbowed a path across the room, and did it
+      with the pious face of a self-respecting curate. The next minute he was
+      prodding a sporting baronet in the ribs at the precise moment when that
+      nobleman reached the point of his little story and on the precise rib
+      where he expected to be prodded. It is always wise to do the expected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the sight of Tony Cornish, Joan's face became grave, and she turned
+      towards him with her little frown of preoccupation, such as one might
+      expect to find upon the face of a woman concerned in the great movements
+      of the day. But before Tony reached her the expression changed to a very
+      feminine and even old-fashioned one of annoyance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, here comes mother!&rdquo; she said, looking beyond Cornish, who was indeed
+      being pursued by a wizened little old lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby, it seemed, was not enjoying herself. She glanced
+      suspiciously from one face to another, as if she was seeking a friend
+      without any great hope of finding one. Perhaps, like many another, she
+      looked upon the world from that point Of view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish hurried up and shook hands. &ldquo;Plenty of people,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; answered Joan, earnestly. &ldquo;It only shows that there is, after
+      all, a great deal of good in human nature, that in such a movement as this
+      rich and poor, great and small, are all equal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish nodded in his quick sympathetic way, accepting as we all accept
+      the social statements of the day, which are oft repeated and never
+      weighed. Then he turned to White and tapped that soldier's arm
+      emphatically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Way to get on nowadays,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is to be prominent in some great
+      movement for benefiting mankind.&rdquo; Joan heard the words, and, turning,
+      looked at Cornish with a momentary doubt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I mean to get on in the world, my dear Joan,&rdquo; he said, with a gravity
+      which quite altered his keen, fair face. It passed off instantly, as if
+      swept away by the ready smile which came again. A close observer might
+      have begun to wonder under which mask lay the real Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White looked stolidly at his friend. His face, on the contrary never
+      changed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby joined them at this moment&mdash;a silent, querulous-looking
+      woman in black silk and priceless lace, who, despite her white hair and
+      wrinkled face, yet wore her clothes with that carefulness which commands
+      respect from high and low alike. The world was afraid of Lady Ferriby, and
+      had little to say to her. It turned aside, as a rule, when she approached.
+      And when she had passed on with her suspicious glance, her bent and
+      shaking head, it whispered that there walked a woman with a romantic past.
+      It is, moreover, to be hoped that the younger portion of Lady Ferriby's
+      world took heed of this catlike, lonely woman, and recognized the
+      melancholy fact that it is unwise to form a romantic attachment in the
+      days of one's youth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony,&rdquo; said her ladyship, &ldquo;they have eaten all the sandwiches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And there was something in her voice, in her manner of touching Tony
+      Cornish's arm with her fan that suggested in a far-off, cold way that this
+      social butterfly had reached one of the still strings of her heart. Who
+      knows? There may have been, in those dim days when Lady Ferriby had played
+      her part in the romantic story which all hinted at and none knew, another
+      such as Tony Cornish&mdash;gay and debonair, careless, reckless, and yet
+      endowed with the power of making some poor woman happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear aunt,&rdquo; replied Cornish, with a levity with which none other ever
+      dared to treat her, &ldquo;the benevolent are always greedy. And each additional
+      virtue&mdash;temperance, loving-kindness, humility&mdash;only serves to
+      dull the sense of humour and add to the appetite. Give them biscuits,
+      aunt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And offering her his arm, he good-naturedly led her to the
+      refreshment-room to investigate the matter. As she passed through the
+      crowded rooms, she glanced from face to face with her quick, seeking look.
+      She cordially disliked all these people. And their principal crime was
+      that they ate and drank. For Lady Ferriby was a miser.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+At the upper end of the room a low platform served as a safe retreat
+for sleepy chaperons on such occasions as the annual Ferriby ball.
+ To-night there were no chaperons. Is not charity the safest as well as
+the most lenient of these? And does her wing not cover a multitude of
+indiscretions?
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Upon this platform there now appeared, amid palms and chrysanthemums, a
+      long, rotund man like a bolster. He held a paper in his hand and wore a
+      platform smile. His attitude was that of one who hesitated to demand
+      silence from so well-bred a throng. His high, narrow forehead shone in the
+      light of the candelabra. This was Lord Ferriby&mdash;a man whose best
+      friend did his best for him in describing him as well-meaning. He gave a
+      cough which had sufficient significance in it to command a momentary
+      quiet. During the silence, a well-dressed parson stood on tiptoe and
+      whispered something in Lord Ferriby's ear. The suggestion, whatever it may
+      have been, was negated by the speaker on receipt of a warning shake of the
+      head from Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Er&mdash;ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, and gained the
+      necessary silence. &ldquo;Er&mdash;you all know the purpose of our meeting here
+      to-night. You all know that Lady Ferriby and myself are much honoured by
+      your presence here. And&mdash;er&mdash;I am sure&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; He did
+      not, however, appear to be quite sure, for he consulted his paper, and the
+      colonial bishop near the yellow chrysanthemums said, &ldquo;Hear, hear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sure that we are, one and all, actuated by a burning desire to
+      relieve the terrible distress which has been going on unknown to us in our
+      very midst.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has missed out half a page,&rdquo; said Joan to Major White, who somehow
+      found himself at her side again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is no place, and we have at the moment no time, to go into the
+      details of the manufacture of malgamite. Suffice it to say, that such a&mdash;er&mdash;composition
+      exists, and that it is a necessity in the manufacture of paper. Now,
+      ladies and gentlemen, the painful fact has been brought to light by my
+      friend Mr. Roden&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; His lordship paused, and looked round with
+      a half-fledged bow, but failed to find Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By&mdash;er&mdash;Mr. Roden that the manufacture of malgamite is one of
+      the deadliest of industries. In fact, the makers of malgamite, and
+      fortunately they are comparatively few in number, stricken as they are by
+      a corroding disease, occupy in our midst the&mdash;er&mdash;place of the
+      lepers of the Bible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here Lord Ferriby bowed affably to the bishop, as if to say, &ldquo;And that is
+      where <i>you</i> come in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&mdash;er&mdash;live in an age,&rdquo; went on Lord Ferriby&mdash;and the
+      practical Joan nodded her head to indicate that he was on the right track
+      now&mdash;&ldquo;when charity is no longer a matter of sentiment, but rather a
+      very practical and forcible power in the world. We do not ask your
+      assistance in a vague and visionary crusade against suffering. We ask you
+      to help us in the development of a definite scheme for the amelioration of
+      the condition of our fellow-beings.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby spoke not with the ease of long practice, but with the
+      assurance of one accustomed to being heard with patience. He now waited
+      for the applause to die away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who put him up to it?&rdquo; Major White asked Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Roden wrote the speech, and I taught it to papa,&rdquo; was the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment Cornish hurried up in his busy way. Indeed, these people
+      seemed to have little time on their hands. They belonged to a generation
+      which is much addicted to unnecessary haste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seen Roden?&rdquo; he asked, addressing his question to Joan and her companion
+      jointly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never in my life,&rdquo; answered Major White. &ldquo;Is he worth seeing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Cornish hurried away again. Lord Ferriby was still speaking, but he
+      seemed to have lost the ear of his audience, and had lapsed into
+      generalities. A few who were near the platform listened attentively
+      enough. Some who hoped that they were to be asked to speak applauded
+      hurriedly and finally whenever the speaker paused to take breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The world is full of people who will not give their money, but offer
+      readily enough what they call their &ldquo;time&rdquo; to a good cause. Lord Ferriby
+      was lavish with his &ldquo;time,&rdquo; and liked to pass it in hearing the sound of
+      his own voice. Every social circle has its talkers, who hang upon each
+      other's periods in expectance of the moment when they can successfully
+      push in their own word. Lord Ferriby, looking round upon faces well known
+      to him, saw half a dozen men who spoke upon all occasions with a sublime
+      indifference to the fact that they knew nothing of the subject in hand.
+      With the least encouragement any one of them would have stepped on to the
+      platform bubbling over with eloquence. Lord Ferriby was quite clever
+      enough to perceive the danger. He must go on talking until Roden was
+      found. Had not the pushing parson already intimated in a whisper that he
+      had a few earnest thoughts in his mind which he would be glad to get off?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby knew those earnest thoughts, and their inevitable tendency to
+      send the audience to the refreshment-room, where, as Lady Ferriby's
+      husband, he suspected poverty in the land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not Mr. Cornish going to speak?&rdquo; a young lady eagerly inquired of
+      Joan. She was a young lady who wore spectacles and scorned a fringe&mdash;a
+      dangerous course of conduct for any young woman to follow. But she made up
+      for natural and physical deficiencies by an excess of that zeal which
+      Talleyrand deplored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;He never speaks in public, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder why?&rdquo; said the young lady, sharply and rather angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She sometimes wondered why
+      herself, but Tony had never satisfied her curiosity. The young lady moved
+      away and talked to others of the same matter. There were quite a number of
+      people in the room who wanted to know why Tony Cornish did not speak, and
+      wished he would. The way to rule the world is to make it want something,
+      and keep it wanting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I make so bold as to hope,&rdquo; Lord Ferriby was saying, &ldquo;that when
+      sufficient publicity has been given to our scheme we shall be able to
+      raise the necessary funds. In the fulness of this hope, I have ventured to
+      jot down the names of certain gentlemen who have been kind enough to
+      assume the trusteeship. I propose, therefore, that the trustees of the
+      Malgamite Fund shall be&mdash;er&mdash;myself&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a practiced speaker, Lord Ferriby paused for the applause which duly
+      followed. And certain elderly gentlemen, who had been young when Marmaduke
+      Ferriby was young, looked with much interest at the pictures on the wall.
+      That Lord Ferriby should assume the directorship of a great charity was to
+      send that charity on its way rejoicing. He stood smiling benevolently and
+      condescendingly down upon the faces turned towards him, and rejoiced
+      inwardly over these glorious obsequies of a wild and deplorable past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Anthony Cornish,&rdquo; he read out, and applause made itself heard again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the listeners turned round and stared at that hero, whom they
+      discovered calmly and stolidly entrenched behind the eye-glass, his broad,
+      tanned face surmounting a shirt front of abnormal width.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No one seemed to know Herr von Holzen, or to care much whether he existed
+      or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;my&mdash;er&mdash;friend&mdash;the originator of this great
+      scheme&mdash;the man whom we all look up to as the benefactor of a most
+      miserable class of men&mdash;Mr. Percy Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby meant the listeners to applaud, and they did so, although
+      they had never heard the name before. He folded the paper held in his
+      hand, and indicated by his manner that he had for the moment nothing more
+      to say. From his point of advantage he scanned the whole length of the
+      large room, evidently seeking some one. Anthony Cornish had been the
+      second name mentioned, and the majority hoped that it was he who was to
+      speak next. They anticipated that he, at all events, would be lively, and
+      in addition to this recommendation there hovered round his name that
+      mysterious charm which is in itself a subtle form of notoriety. People
+      said of Tony Cornish that he would get on in the world; and upon this
+      slender ladder he had attained social success.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Cornish was not in the room, and after waiting a few moments, Lord
+      Ferriby came down from the platform, and joined some of the groups of
+      persons in the large room. For already the audience was breaking up into
+      small parties, and the majority, it is to be feared, were by now talking
+      of other matters. In these days we cannot afford to give sufficient time
+      to any one object to do that object or ourselves any lasting good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Presently there was a stir at the door, and Cornish entered the large
+      room, followed leisurely by a tired-looking man, for whom the idlers near
+      the doorway seemed instinctively to make way. This man was tall,
+      square-shouldered, and loose of limb. He had smooth dark hair, and carried
+      his head thrown rather back from the neck. His eyes were dark, and the
+      fact that a considerable line of white was visible beneath the pupil
+      imparted to his whole being an air of physical delicacy suggestive of a
+      constant feeling of fatigue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is this?&rdquo; asked Major White, aroused to a sense of stolid curiosity
+      which few of his fellow-men had the power of awakening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that,&rdquo; said Joan, looking towards the door&mdash;&ldquo;that is Mr. Percy
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV. A NEW DISCIPLE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Pour être heureux, il ne faut avoir rien à oublier.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      There is in the atmosphere of the Hotel of the Vieux Doelen at The Hague
+      something as old-world, as quiet and peaceful, as there is in the very
+      name of this historic house. The stairs are softly carpeted; the great
+      rooms are hung with tapestry, and otherwise decorated in a massive and
+      somewhat gloomy style, little affected in the newer <i>caravanserais</i>.
+      The house itself, more than three hundred years old, is of dark red brick
+      with facings of stone, long since worn by wind and weather. The windows
+      are enormous, and would appear abnormal in any other city but this. The
+      Hotel of the Old Shooting gallery stands on the Toornoifeld and the
+      unobservant may pass by without distinguishing it from the private houses
+      on either side. This, indeed, is not so much a house of hasty rest for the
+      passing traveler as it is a halting-place for that great army which is
+      ever moving quietly on and on through the cities of the Old World&mdash;the
+      corps diplomatique&mdash;the army whose greatest victory is peace. The
+      traveller passing a night or two at the hotel may well be faintly
+      surprised at the atmosphere in which he finds himself. If he be what is
+      called a practical man, he will probably shake his head forebodingly over
+      the prospects of the proprietor. There seems, indeed, to be a singular
+      dearth of visitors. The winding stairs are nearly always deserted. The <i>salon</i>
+      is empty. There are no sounds of life, no trunks in the hall, and no
+      idlers at the door. And yet at the hour of the <i>table d'hôte</i> quiet
+      doors are opened, and quiet men emerge from rooms that seemed before to be
+      uninhabited. They are mostly smooth-haired men with a pensive reserve of
+      manner, a certain polished cosmopolitan air, and the inevitable
+      frock-coat. They bow gravely to each other, and seat themselves at
+      separate tables. As often as not they produce books or newspapers, and
+      read during the solemn meal. It is as well to watch these men and take
+      note of them. Many of them are grey-headed. No one of them is young. But
+      they are beginners, mere apprentices, at a very difficult trade, and in
+      the days to come they will have the making of the history of Europe. For
+      these men are attachés and secretaries of embassies. They will talk to you
+      in almost any European tongue you may select, but they are not
+      communicative persons.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the winter&mdash;the gay season at The Hague&mdash;there are
+      usually a certain number of residents in the hotel. At the time with which
+      we are dealing, Mrs. Vansittart was staying there, alone with her maid.
+      Mrs. Vansittart was in the habit of dining at the small table near the
+      stove&mdash;a gorgeous erection of steel and brass, which stands nearly in
+      the centre of the smaller dining-room used in winter. Mrs. Vansittart
+      seemed, moreover, to be quite at home in the hotel, and exchanged bows
+      with a few of the gentlemen of the corps diplomatique. She was a graceful,
+      dark-haired woman, with deep brown eyes that looked upon the world without
+      much interest. This was not, one felt, a woman to lavish her attention or
+      her thoughts upon a toy spaniel, as do so many ladies travelling alone
+      with their maids in Continental hotels. Perhaps this woman of thirty-five
+      years or so preferred to be frankly bored, rather than set up for herself
+      a shivering four-legged object in life. Perhaps she was not bored at all.
+      One never knows. The gentlemen from the embassies glanced at her over
+      their books or their newspapers, and wondered who and what she might be.
+      They knew, at all events, that she took no interest in those affairs of
+      the great world which rumble on night and day without rest, with spasmodic
+      bursts of clumsy haste, and with a never-failing possibility of surprise
+      in their movements. This was no political woman, whatever else she might
+      be. She would talk in quite a number of languages of such matters as the
+      opera, a new book, or an old picture, and would then relapse again into a
+      sort of waiting silence. At thirty-five it is perhaps not well to wait too
+      patiently for those things that make a woman's life worth living. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had not the air, however, of one who would wait indefinitely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Mr. Percy Roden arrived at the hotel, he was assigned, at the hour of
+      <i>table d'hôte</i>, a small table between those occupied respectively by
+      Mrs. Vansittart and the secretary of the Belgian Embassy. Some subtle
+      sense conveyed to Percy Roden that he had aroused Mrs. Vansittart's
+      interest&mdash;the sense called vanity, perhaps, which conveys so much to
+      young men, and so much that is erroneous. On the second evening,
+      therefore, when he had returned from a busy day in the neighbourhood of
+      Scheveningen, Roden half looked for the bow which was half accorded to
+      him. That evening Mrs. Vansittart spoke to the waiter in English, which
+      was obviously her native language, and Roden overheard. After dinner Mrs.
+      Vansittart lingered in the <i>salon</i> and a woman, had such been
+      present, would have perceived that she made it easy for Roden to pause in
+      passing and offer her his English newspaper, which had arrived by the
+      evening post. The subtle is so often the obvious that to be unobservant is
+      a social duty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I like newspapers. Although I have not been in
+      England for years, I still take an interest in the affairs of my country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her manner was easy and natural, without that taint of a too sudden
+      familiarity which is characteristic of the present generation. We are apt
+      to allow ourselves to feel too much at home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, on the contrary,&rdquo; replied Roden, with his tired air, &ldquo;have never till
+      now been out of England or English-speaking colonies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His voice had a hollow sound. Although he was tall and broad-shouldered,
+      his presence had no suggestion of strength. Mrs. Vansittart looked at him
+      quickly as she took the newspaper from his hand. She had clever,
+      speculative eyes, and was obviously wondering why he had gone to the
+      colonies and why he had returned thence. So many sail to those distant
+      havens of the unsuccessful under one cloud and return under another, that
+      it seems wiser to remain stationary and snatch what passing sunshine there
+      may be. Roden had not a colonial manner. He was well dressed. He was, in
+      fact, the sort of man who would pass in any society. And it is probable
+      that Mrs. Vansittart summed him up in her quick mind with perfect success.
+      Despite our clothes, despite our airs and graces, we mostly appear to be
+      exactly what we are. Mrs. Vansittart, who knew the world and men, did not
+      need to be informed by Percy Roden that he was unacquainted with the
+      Continent. Comparing him with the other men passing through the <i>salon</i>
+      to their rooms or their club, it became apparent that he had one sort of
+      stiffness which they had not, and lacked another sort of stiffness which
+      grows upon those who live and take their meals in public places. Mrs.
+      Vansittart could probably have made a fair guess at the sort of education
+      Percy Roden had received. For a man carries his school mark through life
+      with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, taking the newspaper and glancing at it with just
+      sufficient interest to prolong the conversation, &ldquo;then you do not know The
+      Hague. It is a place that grows upon one. It is one of the social capitals
+      of the world. Vienna, St. Petersburg, Paris, are the others. Madrid,
+      Berlin, New York, are&mdash;nowhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed, bowed with a little half&mdash;foreign gesture of thanks, and
+      left him&mdash;left him, moreover, with the desire to see more of her. It
+      seemed that she knew the secret of that other worldling, Tony Cornish,
+      that the way to rule men is to make them want something and keep them
+      wanting. As Roden passed through the hall he paused, and entered into
+      conversation with the hall porter. During the course of this talk he made
+      some small inquiries respecting Mrs. Vansittart. That lady had no need to
+      make inquiries respecting Roden. Has it not been stated that she was
+      travelling with her maid?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she said, when she saw him again the next day after dinner in the
+      <i>salon</i>, &ldquo;that your great philanthropic scheme is now an established
+      fact. I have taken a great interest in its progress, and of course know
+      the names of some who are associated with you in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden laughed indifferently, well pleased to be recognized. His notoriety
+      was new enough and narrow enough to please him still. There is no man so
+      much at the mercy of his own vanity as he who enjoys a limited notoriety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;we have got it into shape. Do you know Lord Ferriby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, slowly, &ldquo;I have not that pleasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Ferriby is a good enough fellow,&rdquo; said Roden, kindly; and Mrs.
+      Vansittart gave a little nod as she looked at him. Roden had drawn forward
+      a chair, and she sat down, after a moment's hesitation, in front of the
+      open fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have always heard,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and a great philanthropist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;yes.&rdquo; Roden paused and took a chair. &ldquo;Oh yes; but Tony Cornish
+      is our right-hand man. The people seem to place greater faith in him than
+      they do in Lord Ferriby. When it is Cornish who asks, they give readily
+      enough. He is business-like and quick, and that always tells in the long
+      run.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden seemed disposed to be communicative, and Mrs. Vansittart's
+      attitude was distinctly encouraging. She leant sideways on the arm of her
+      chair, and looked at her companion with speculation in her intelligent
+      eyes. She was perhaps reflecting that this was not the sort of man one
+      usually finds engaged in philanthropic enterprise. It is likely that her
+      thoughts were of this nature, and were, as thoughts so often are,
+      transmitted silently to her companion's mind, for he proceeded, unasked,
+      to explain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not, properly speaking, a charity, you know,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is more
+      in the nature of a trade union. This is a practical age, Mrs. Vansittart,
+      and it is necessary that charity should keep pace with the march of
+      progress and be self-supporting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a faint suggestion of glibness in his manner. It was probable
+      that he had made use of the same arguments before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And who else is associated with you in this great enterprise?&rdquo; asked the
+      lady, keeping him with the cleverness of her sex upon the subject in which
+      he was obviously deeply interested. The shrewdest women usually treat men
+      thus, and they generally know what subject interests a man most&mdash;namely,
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Herr von Holzen is the most important person,&rdquo; replied Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, looking into the fire; &ldquo;and who is Herr von
+      Holzen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden paused for a moment, and the lady, looking half indifferently into
+      the fire, noticed the hesitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he is a scientist&mdash;a professor at one of the universities over
+      here, I believe. At all events, he is a very clever fellow&mdash;analytical
+      chemist and all that, you know. It is he who has made the discovery upon
+      which we are working. He has always been interested in malgamite, and he
+      has now found out how it may be manufactured without injury to the
+      workers. Malgamite, you understand, is an essential in the manufacture of
+      paper, and the world will never require less paper than it does now, but
+      more. Look at the tons that pass through the post-offices daily.
+      Paper-making is one of the great industries of the world, and without
+      malgamite, paper cannot be made at a profit to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden seemed to have his subject at his fingers' ends, and if he spoke
+      without enthusiasm, the reason was probably that he had so often said the
+      same thing before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much interested,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, in her half-foreign way,
+      which was rather pleasing. &ldquo;Tell me more about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The malgamite makers,&rdquo; went on Roden, willingly enough, &ldquo;are fortunately
+      but few in numbers and they are experts. They are to be found in twos and
+      threes in manufacturing cities&mdash;Amsterdam, Gothenburg, Leith, New
+      York, and even Barcelona. Of course there are a number in England. Our
+      scheme, briefly, is to collect these men together, to build a manufactory
+      and houses for them&mdash;to form them, in fact, into a close corporation,
+      and then supply the world with malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great scheme, Mr. Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is a great scheme; and it is, I think, laid upon the right lines.
+      These people require to be saved from themselves. As they now exist, they
+      are well paid. They are engaged in a deadly industry, and know it. There
+      is nothing more demoralizing to human nature than this knowledge. They
+      have a short and what they take to be a merry life.&rdquo; The tired&mdash;looking
+      man paused and spread out his hands in a gesture of careless scorn. He had
+      almost allowed himself to lapse into enthusiasm. &ldquo;There is no reason,&rdquo; he
+      went on, &ldquo;why they should not become a happy and respectable community.
+      The first thing we shall have to teach them is that their industry is
+      comparatively harmless, as it will undoubtedly be with Von Holzen's new
+      process. The rest will, I think, come naturally. Altered circumstances
+      will alter the people themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And where do you intend to build this manufactory?&rdquo; inquired Mrs.
+      Vansittart, to whom was vouch-safed that rare knowledge of the fine line
+      that is to be drawn between a kindly interest and a vulgar curiosity. The
+      two are nearer than is usually suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here in Holland,&rdquo; was the reply. &ldquo;I have almost decided on the spot&mdash;on
+      the dunes to the north of Scheveningen. That is why I am staying at The
+      Hague. There are many reasons why this coast is suitable. We shall be in
+      touch with the canal system, and we shall have a direct outfall to the sea
+      for our refuse, which is necessary. I shall have to live in The Hague&mdash;my
+      sister and I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! You have a sister?&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, turning in her chair and
+      looking at him. A woman's interest in a man's undertaking is invariably
+      centred upon that point where another woman comes into it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unmarried?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; Dorothy is unmarried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart gave several quick little nods of the head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am wondering two things,&rdquo; she said&mdash;&ldquo;whether she is like you, and
+      whether she is interested in this scheme. But I am wondering more than
+      that. Is she pretty, Mr. Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I think she is pretty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad of that. I like girls to be pretty. It makes their lives so
+      much more interesting&mdash;to the onlooker, <i>bien entendu</i>, but not
+      to themselves. The happiest women I have known have been the plain ones.
+      But perhaps your sister will be pretty and happy too. That would be so
+      nice, and so very rare, Mr. Roden. I shall look forward to making her
+      acquaintance. I live in The Hague, you know. I have a house in Park
+      Straat, and I am only at this hotel while the painters are in possession.
+      You will allow me to call on your sister when she joins you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall be most gratified,&rdquo; said Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had risen with a little glance at the clock, and her
+      companion rose also. &ldquo;I am greatly interested in your scheme,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;Much more than I can tell you. It is so refreshing to find charity in
+      such close connection with practical common sense. I think you are doing a
+      great work, Mr. Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do what I can,&rdquo; he replied, with a bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Mr. Von Holzen,&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart, stopping for a moment as
+      she moved towards the doorway, which is large and hung with curtains&mdash;&ldquo;does
+      Mr. Von Holzen work from purely philanthropic motives also?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;yes, I think so. Though, of course, he, like myself, will be
+      paid a salary. Perhaps, however, he is more interested in malgamite from a
+      scientific point of view.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, yes, from a scientific point of view, of course. Good night, Mr.
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she left him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V. OUT OF EGYPT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Un esclave est moins celui qu'on vend que celui qui se donne&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      A sea fog was blowing across the smooth surface of the Maas where that
+      river is broad and shallow, and a steamer anchored in the channel, grim
+      and motionless, gave forth a grunt of warning from time to time, while a
+      boy with mittened hands rang the bell hung high on the forecastle with a
+      dull monotony. The wind blowing from the south-east drove before it the
+      endless fog which hummed through the rigging, and hung there in little
+      icicles that pointed to leeward. On the bridge of the steamer, looking
+      like a huge woollen barrel surmounted by a comforter and a cap with
+      ear-flaps, the Dutch pilot stood philosophically at his post. Near him the
+      captain, mindful of the company's time-tables, walked with a quick,
+      impatient step. The fog was blowing past at the rate of four or five miles
+      an hour, but the supply of it, emanating from the low lands bordering the
+      Scheldt, seemed to be inexhaustible. This fog, indeed, blows across
+      Holland nearly the whole winter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The steamer's deck was covered with ice, over which sand had been strewn.
+      The passengers were below in the warm saloon. Only the blue-faced boy at
+      the bell on the forecastle was on the main-deck. At times one of the watch
+      hurried from the galley to the forecastle with a pannikin of steaming
+      coffee. The vessel had been anchored since daybreak and the sound of other
+      bells and other whistles far and near told that she was not alone in these
+      waters. The distant boom of a steamer creeping cautiously down from
+      Rotterdam seemed to promise that farther inland the fog was thinner. A
+      silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the rigging,
+      reigned over all, so that men listened with anticipations of relief for
+      the sound of answering bells. The sky at length grew a little lighter, and
+      presently gaps made their appearance in the fog, allowing peeps over the
+      green and still water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain and the pilot exchanged a few words&mdash;the very shortest of
+      consultations. They had been on the bridge together all night, and had
+      said all that there was to be said about wind and weather. The captain
+      gave a sharp order in his gruff voice, and, as if by magic, the watch on
+      deck appeared from all sides. The chief officer emerged from his cabin
+      beneath the wheel-house, and went forward into the fog, turning up his
+      collar. Presently the jerk and clink of the steam-winch told that the
+      anchor was being got home. The fog had been humoured for six hours, and
+      the time had now come to move on through thick or thin. What should
+      Berlin, Petersburg, Vienna, know of a fog on the Maas? And there were
+      mails and passengers on board this steamer. The clink of the winch brought
+      one of these on deck. Within the high collar of his fur coat, beneath the
+      brim of a felt hat pulled well down, the keen; fair face of Mr. Anthony
+      Cornish came peering up the gangway to the upper bridge. He exchanged a
+      nod with the captain and the pilot; for with these he had already been in
+      conversation at the breakfast-table. He took his station on the bridge
+      behind them, with his hands deep in the pockets of his loose coat, a
+      cigarette between his lips. A shout from the forecastle soon intimated
+      that the anchor was up, and the captain gave the order to the boy at the
+      engine-room telegraph. Through the fog the forms of the three men on the
+      look-out on the forecastle were dimly discernible. The great steamer crept
+      cautiously forward into the fog. The second mate, with his hand on the
+      whistle-line, blared out his warning note every half-minute. A dim shadow
+      loomed up on the port-side, which presently took the form of a great
+      steamer at anchor, and was left behind with a ringing bell and a booming
+      whistle. Another shadow turned out to be a pilot-cutter, and the Dutch
+      pilot exchanged a shouted consultation with an invisible person whom he
+      called &ldquo;Thou,&rdquo; and who replied to the imperfectly heard questions with the
+      words, &ldquo;South East.&rdquo; This shadow also was left behind, faintly calling,
+      &ldquo;South East,&rdquo; &ldquo;South East.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a white buoy that I seek,&rdquo; said the pilot, turning to those on the
+      bridge behind him, his jolly red face puckered with anxiety. And quite
+      suddenly the second officer, a bright-red Scotchman with little blue eyes
+      like tempered gimlets, threw out a red hand and pointing finger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There she rides,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There she rides; staar boarrrd your hellum!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And a full thirty seconds elapsed before any other eyes could pierce that
+      gloom and perceive a great white buoy bowing solemnly towards the steamer
+      like a courtier bidding a sovereign welcome. One voice had seemed to be
+      gradually dominating the din of the many warning whistles that sounded
+      ahead, astern, and all around the steamer. This voice, like that of a
+      strong man knowing his own mind in an assembly of excited and unstable
+      counsellors, had long been raised with a persistence which at last seemed
+      to command all others, and the steamer moved steadily towards it; for it
+      was the siren fog-horn at the pier-head. At one moment it seemed to be
+      quite near, and at the next far away; for the ears, unaided by the eyes,
+      can but imperfectly focus sound or measure its distance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At last!&rdquo; said the captain, suddenly, the anxiety wiped away from his
+      face as if by magic. &ldquo;At last, I hear the cranes aworking on the quay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser had come to the bridge, and now approached Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to land them at the Hook or take them on to Rotterdam,
+      sir?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, land 'em at the Hook,&rdquo; replied Cornish, readily. &ldquo;Have you fed them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. They have had their breakfast&mdash;such as it is. Poor eaters
+      I call them, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; said Cornish, turning and looking at his burly interlocutor. &ldquo;Yes,
+      I do not suppose they eat much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention to other
+      affairs, thoughtfully. The little, beacon at the head of the pier had
+      suddenly loomed out of the fog not fifty yards away&mdash;a very needle in
+      a pottle of hay, which the cunning of the pilot had found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are they, at any rate&mdash;these hundred and twenty ghosts of men?&rdquo;
+       asked the sailor, abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are malgamite workers,&rdquo; answered Cornish, cheerily. &ldquo;And I am going
+      to make men of them&mdash;not ghosts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The purser looked at him, laughed in rather a puzzled way, and quitted the
+      bridge. Cornish remained there, taking a quick, intelligent interest in
+      the manoeuvres by which the great steamer was being brought alongside the
+      quay. He seemed to have already forgotten the hundred and twenty men in
+      the second-class cabin. His touch was indeed hopelessly light. He
+      understood how it was that the steamer was made to obey, but he could not
+      himself have brought her alongside. Cornish was a true son of a generation
+      which understands much of many things, but not quite sufficient of any
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood at the upper end of the gangway as the malgamite workers filed
+      off&mdash;a sorry crew, narrow-chested, hollow-eyed, with that
+      half-hopeless, half-reckless air that tells of a close familiarity with
+      disease and death. He nodded to them airily as they passed him. Some of
+      them took the trouble to answer his salutation, others seemed indifferent.
+      A few glanced at him with a sort of dull wonder. And indeed this man was
+      not of the material of which great philanthropists are made. He was
+      cheerful and heedless, shallow and superficial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get 'em into the train,&rdquo; he said to an official at his side; and then,
+      seeing that he had not been understood, gave the order glibly enough in
+      another language.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The ill-clad travellers shuffled up the gangway and through the
+      custom-house. Few seemed to take an interest in their surroundings. They
+      exchanged no comments, but walked side by side in silence&mdash;dumb and
+      driven animals. Some of them bore signs of disease. A few stumbled as they
+      went. One or two were half blind, with groping hands. That they were of
+      different nationalities was plain enough. Here a Jew from Vienna, with the
+      fear of the Judenhetze in his eyes, followed on the heels of a tow-headed
+      giant from Stockholm. A cunning cockney touched his hat as he passed, and
+      rather ostentatiously turned to help a white-haired little Italian over
+      the inequalities of the gangway. One thing only they had in common&mdash;their
+      deadly industry. One shadow lay over them all&mdash;the shadow of death. A
+      momentary gravity passed across Cornish's face. These men were as far
+      removed from him as the crawling beetle is from the butterfly. Who shall
+      say, however, that the butterfly sees nothing but the flowers?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As they passed him, some of them edged away with a dull humility for fear
+      their poor garments should touch his fur coat. One, carrying a bird-cage,
+      half paused, with a sort of pride, that Cornish might obtain a fuller view
+      of a depressed canary. The malgamite workers of this winter's morning on
+      the pier of Hoek were not the interesting industrials of Lady Ferriby's
+      drawing-room. There their lives had been spoken of as short and merry.
+      Here the merriment was scarcely perceptible. The mystery of the dangerous
+      industries is one of those mysteries of human nature which cannot be
+      explained by even the youngest of novelists. That dangerous industries
+      exist we all know and deplore. That the supply of men and women ready to
+      take employment in such industries is practically inexhaustible is a fact
+      worth at least a moment's attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made the necessary arrangements with the railway officials, and
+      carefully counted his charges, who were already seated in the carriages
+      reserved for them. He must at all events be allowed the virtues of a
+      generation which is eminently practical and capable of overcoming the
+      small difficulties of everyday life. He was quick to decide and prompt to
+      act.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he seated himself in a carriage alone, with a sigh of relief at the
+      thought that in a few days he would be back in London. His responsibility
+      ended at The Hague, where he was to hand over the malgamite workers to the
+      care of Roden and Von Holzen. They were rather a depressing set of men,
+      and Holland, as seen from the carriage window&mdash;a snow-clad plain
+      intersected by frozen ditches and canals&mdash;was no more enlivening. The
+      temperature was deadly cold; the dull houses were rime-covered and
+      forbidding. The malgamite makers had been gathered together from all parts
+      of the world in a home specially organized for them in London. A second
+      detachment was awaiting their orders at Hamburg. But the principal workers
+      were these now placed under Cornish's care.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      During the days of their arrival, when they had to be met and housed and
+      cared for, the visionary part of this great scheme had slowly faded before
+      a somewhat grim reality. Joan Ferriby had found the malgamite workers less
+      picturesque than she had anticipated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they only washed,&rdquo; she had confided to Major White, &ldquo;I am sure they
+      would be easier to deal with.&rdquo; And after talking French very vivaciously
+      and boldly with a man from Lyons, she hurried back to the West End, and to
+      the numerous engagements which naturally take up much of one's time when
+      Lent is approaching, and dilatory hospitality is stirred up by the
+      startling collapse of the Epiphany Sundays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Here, however, were the malgamite workers and they had to be dealt with.
+      It was not quite what many had anticipated, perhaps, and Cornish was
+      looking forward with undisguised pleasure to the moment when he could rid
+      himself of these persons whom Joan had gaily designated as &ldquo;rather
+      gruesome,&rdquo; and whom he frankly recognized as sordid and uninteresting. He
+      did not even look, as Joan had looked, to the wives and children who were
+      to follow as likely to prove more picturesque and engaging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The train made its way cautiously over the fog-ridden plain, and Cornish
+      shivered as he looked out of the window. &ldquo;Schiedam,&rdquo; the porters called.
+      This, Schiedam? A mere village, and yet the name was so familiar. The
+      world seemed suddenly to have grown small and sordid. A few other stations
+      with historic names, and then The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish quitted his carriage, and found himself shaking hands with Roden,
+      who was awaiting him on the platform, clad in a heavy fur coat. Roden
+      looked clever and capable&mdash;cleverer and more capable than Cornish had
+      even suspected&mdash;and the organization seemed perfect. The reserved
+      carriages had been in readiness at the Hook. The officials were prepared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have omnibuses and carts for them and their luggage,&rdquo; were the first
+      words that Roden spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish instinctively placed himself under Roden's orders. The man had
+      risen immensely in his estimation since the arrival in London of the first
+      malgamite maker. The grim reality of the one had enhanced the importance
+      of the other. Cornish had been engaged in so many charities <i>pour rire</i>
+      that the seriousness of this undertaking was apt to exaggerate itself in
+      his mind&mdash;if, indeed, the seriousness of anything dwelt there at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I counted them all over at the Hook,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One hundred and twenty&mdash;pretty
+      average scoundrels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; they are not much to look at,&rdquo; answered Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the two men stood side by side watching the malgamite workers, who now
+      quitted the train and stood huddled together in a dull apathy on the roomy
+      platform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will soon get them into shape, no doubt,&rdquo; said Cornish, with
+      characteristic optimism. He was essentially of a class that has always
+      some one at hand to whom to relegate tasks which it could do more
+      effectually and more quickly for itself. The secret of human happiness is
+      to be dependent upon as few human beings as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! We shall soon get them into shape&mdash;the sea air and all that,
+      you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at his <i>protégés</i> with large, sad eyes, in which there
+      was alike no enthusiasm and no spark of human kindness. Cornish wondered
+      vaguely what he was thinking about. The thoughts were certainly tinged
+      with pessimism, and lacked entirely the blindness of an enthusiasm by
+      which men are urged to endeavour great things for the good of the masses,
+      and to make, as far as a practical human perception may discern, huge and
+      hideous mistakes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Holzen is down below,&rdquo; said Roden, at length. &ldquo;As soon as he comes up
+      we will draft them off in batches of ten, and pack them into the
+      omnibuses. The luggage can follow. Ah! Here comes Von Holzen. You don't
+      know him, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I don't know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They both went forward to meet a man of medium height, with square
+      shoulders, and a still, clean-shaven face. Otto von Holzen raised his hat,
+      and remained bare-headed while he shook hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The introduction is unnecessary,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We have worked together for
+      many months&mdash;you on the other side of the North Sea, and I on this.
+      And now we have, at all events, something to show for our work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had a quick, foreign manner, with a kind smile, and certain vivacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a different sort of man to Roden&mdash;quicker to feel for
+      others, to understand others; capable of greater good, and possibly of
+      greater evil. He glanced at Cornish, nodded sympathetically, and then
+      turned to look at the malgamite makers. These, standing in a group on the
+      platform, holding in their hands their poor belongings, returned the gaze
+      with interest. The train which had brought them steamed out of the
+      station, leaving the malgamite makers gazing in a dull wonder at the three
+      men into whose hands they had committed their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI. ON THE DUNES.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;L'indifference est le sommeil du coeur.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The village of Scheveningen, as many know, is built on the sand dunes, and
+      only sheltered from the ocean by a sea-wall. A new Scheveningen has sprung
+      up on this sea-wall&mdash;a mere terrace of red brick houses, already
+      faded and weather-worn, which stare forlornly at the shallow sea. Inland,
+      except where building enterprise has constructed roads and built villas
+      are sand dunes. To the south, beyond the lighthouse, are sand dunes. To
+      the north, more especially and most emphatically, are sand dunes as far as
+      the eye may see. This tract of country is a very desert, where thin
+      maritime grasses are shaken by the wind, where suggestive spars lie
+      bleaching, where the sand, driven before the breeze like snow, travels to
+      and fro through all the ages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This afternoon, the dunes presented as forlorn an appearance as it is
+      possible in one's gloomiest moments to conceive. The fog had, indeed,
+      lifted a little, but a fine rain now drove before the wind, freezing as it
+      fell, so that the earth was covered by a thin sheet of ice. The short
+      January day was drawing to its close.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To the north of the waterworks, three hundred yards away from that
+      solitary erection, the curious may find to-day a few low buildings
+      clustering round a water-tower. These buildings are of wood, with roofs of
+      corrugated iron; and when they were newly constructed, not so many years
+      ago, presented a gay enough appearance, with their green shutters and
+      ornamental eaves. The whole was enclosed in a fence of corrugated iron,
+      and approached by a road not too well constructed on its sandy bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We do not want the place to become the object of an excursion for
+      tourists to The Hague,&rdquo; said Roden to Cornish, as they approached the
+      malgamite works in a closed carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked out of the window and made no remark. So far as he could
+      see on all sides, there was nothing but sand-hills and grey grass. The
+      road was a narrow one, and led only to the little cluster of houses within
+      the fence. It was a lonely spot, cut off from all communication with the
+      outer world. Men might pass within a hundred yards and never know that the
+      malgamite works existed. The carriage drove through the high gateway into
+      the enclosure. There were a number of cottages, two long, low buildings,
+      and the water-tower.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; said Roden, &ldquo;we have plenty of room to increase our
+      accommodation when there is need of it. But we must go slowly and feel our
+      way. It would never do to fail. We have accommodation here for a couple of
+      hundred workers and their families; but in time we shall have five hundred
+      of them in here&mdash;all the malgamite workers in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in his
+      voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after all, be an
+      enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's world sincere
+      enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the
+      little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These two buildings are the factories,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In them three hundred
+      men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the storage of the
+      raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do not anticipate
+      that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We shall turn over
+      our money very quickly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details
+      receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for such
+      pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the terms of
+      which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his cane, gave a
+      quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around him. He had a
+      certain respect for Percy Roden, while that philanthropist did not perhaps
+      appear quite at his best in his business moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you&mdash;and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen&mdash;live
+      inside this&mdash;zareba?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I have
+      taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! I did not know you had a sister,&rdquo; said Cornish, still looking about
+      him with intelligent ignorance. &ldquo;Does she take an interest in the
+      malgamite scheme?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only so far as it affects me,&rdquo; replied Roden. &ldquo;She is a good sister to
+      me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We
+      will call in on our way back, if you care to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like nothing better,&rdquo; replied Cornish, conventionally, and they
+      continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements were as
+      simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen certainly
+      possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages a cold
+      collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of wines, and
+      notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the journalists,&rdquo; explained Roden. &ldquo;I have a number of them coming
+      this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite
+      makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited a
+      number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay their
+      expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it immensely.
+      They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Flattery and champagne,&rdquo; laughed Cornish&mdash;&ldquo;the two principal
+      ingredients of popularity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have here a number of photographs,&rdquo; continued Roden, &ldquo;taken by a good
+      man in the neighbourhood. He has thrown in a view of the sea at the back,
+      you see. It is not there; but he has put in the sky and sea from another
+      plate, he tells me, to make a good picture of it. We shall send them to
+      the principal illustrated papers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I suppose,&rdquo; said Cornish, with his gay laugh, &ldquo;that some of the
+      journalists will throw in background also.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; answered Roden, gravely. &ldquo;And the sentimentalists will be
+      satisfied. The sentimentalists never stop at providing necessaries; they
+      want to pamper. It will please them immensely to think that the malgamite
+      makers, who have been collected from the slums of the world, have a sea
+      view and every modern luxury.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must humour them,&rdquo; said Cornish, practically. &ldquo;We should not get far
+      without them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this moment the sound of wheels made them both turn towards the
+      entrance. It was an omnibus&mdash;the best omnibus with the finest horses&mdash;which
+      brought the journalists. These gentlemen now descended from the vehicle
+      and came towards the cottage, where Cornish and Roden awaited them. They
+      were what is euphemistically called a little mixed. Some were too well
+      dressed, others too badly. But all carried themselves with an air that
+      bespoke a consciousness of greatness not unmingled with good-fellowship.
+      The leader, a stout man, shook hands affably with Cornish, who assumed his
+      best and most gracious manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aha! Here we are,&rdquo; he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at the
+      champagne.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then somehow Cornish came to the front and Roden retired into the
+      background. It was Cornish who opened the champagne and poured it into
+      their glasses. It was Cornish who made the best jokes, and laughed the
+      loudest at the journalistic quips fired off by his companions. Cornish
+      seemed to understand the guests better than did Roden, who was inclined to
+      be stiff towards them. Those who are assured of their position are not
+      always thinking about it. Men who stand much upon their dignity have not,
+      as a rule, much else to stand upon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's to you, sir,&rdquo; cried the stout newspaper man, with upraised glass
+      and a heart full of champagne. &ldquo;Here's to you&mdash;whoever you are. And
+      now to business. Perhaps you'll trot us round the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This Cornish did with much success. He then stood beside the
+      correspondents while the malgamite workers descended from the omnibus and
+      took possession of their new quarters. He provided the journalists with
+      photographs and a short printed account of the malgamite trade, which had
+      been prepared by Von Holzen. It was finally Cornish who packed them into
+      the omnibus in high good humour, and sent them back to The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not forget the sentiment,&rdquo; he called out after them. &ldquo;Remember it is a
+      charity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamite workers were left to the care of Von Holzen, who had made
+      all necessary preparations for their reception.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a cleverer man than I thought you,&rdquo; said Roden to Cornish, as
+      they walked over the dunes together in the dusk towards the Rodens' house.
+      And it was difficult to say whether Roden was pleased or not. He did not
+      speak much during the walk, and was evidently wrapped in deep thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was light and inconsequent as usual. &ldquo;We shall soon raise more
+      money,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We shall have malgamite balls, and malgamite bazaars,
+      malgamite balloon ascents if that is not flying too high.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Villa des Dunes stands, as its name implies, among the sand hills,
+      facing south and west. It is upon an elevation, and therefore enjoys a
+      view of the sea, and, inland, of the spires of The Hague. The garden is an
+      old one, and there are quiet nooks in it where the trees have grown to a
+      quite respectable stature. Holland is so essentially a tidy country that
+      nothing old or moss-grown is tolerated. One wonders where all the rubbish
+      of the centuries has been hidden; for all the ruins have been decently
+      cleared away and cities that teem with historical interest seem, with a
+      few exceptions, to have been built last year. The garden of the Villa des
+      Dunes was therefore more remarkable for cleanliness than luxuriance. The
+      house itself was uninteresting, and resembled a thousand others on the
+      coast in that it was more comfortable than it looked. A suggestion of
+      warmth and lamp-light filtered through the drawn curtains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden led the way into the house, admitting himself with a latch-key.
+      &ldquo;Dorothy,&rdquo; he cried, as soon as the door was closed behind them&mdash;the
+      two tall men in their heavy coats almost filled the little hall&mdash;&ldquo;Dorothy,
+      where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The atmosphere of the house&mdash;that subtle odour which is
+      characteristic of all dwellings&mdash;was pleasant. One felt that there
+      were flowers in the rooms, and that tea was in course of preparation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door on the left-hand side of the hall was opened, and a small woman
+      appeared there. She was essentially small&mdash;a little upright figure
+      with bright brown hair, a good complexion, and gay, sparkling eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have brought Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; explained Roden. &ldquo;We are frozen, and want
+      some tea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy Roden came forward and shook hands with Cornish. She looked up at
+      him, taking him all in, in one quick intuitive glance, from his smooth
+      head to his neat boots.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is horribly cold,&rdquo; she said. One cannot always be original and
+      sparkling, and it is wiser not to try too persistently. She turned and
+      re-entered the drawing-room, with Cornish following her. The room itself
+      was prettily furnished in the Dutch fashion, and there were flowers.
+      Dorothy Roden's manner was that of a woman; no longer in her first
+      girlhood, who had seen en and cities. She was better educated than her
+      brother; she was probably cleverer. She had, at all events, the subtle air
+      of self-restraint that marks those women whose lives are passed in the
+      society of a man mentally inferior to themselves. Of course all women are
+      in a sense doomed to this&mdash;according to their own thinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Percy said that he would probably bring you in to tea,&rdquo; said Miss Roden,
+      &ldquo;and that probably you would be tired out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thanks; I am not tired. We had a good passage, and everything has run as
+      smoothly. Do you take an active interest in us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Roden paused in the action of pouring out tea, and looked across at
+      her interlocutor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not an active one,&rdquo; she answered, with a momentary gravity; and, after a
+      minute, glanced at Cornish's face again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is going to be a big thing,&rdquo; he said enthusiastically. &ldquo;My cousin Joan
+      Ferriby is working hard at it in London. You do not know her, I suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at school with Joan,&rdquo; replied Miss Roden, with her soft laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we took a school-girl oath to write to each other every week when we
+      parted. We kept it up&mdash;for a fortnight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish's smooth face betrayed no surprise; although he had concluded that
+      Miss Roden was years older than Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he said, with ready tact, &ldquo;you do not take an interest in the
+      same things as Joan. In what may be called new things&mdash;not clothes, I
+      mean. In factory girls' feather clubs, for instance, or haberdashers'
+      assistants, or women's rights, or anything like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I am not clever enough for anything like that. I am profoundly
+      ignorant about women's rights, and do not even know what I want, or ought
+      to want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, who had approached the table, laughed, and taking his tea, went and
+      sat down near the fire. He, at all events, was tired and looked worn&mdash;as
+      if his responsibilities were already beginning to weigh upon him. Cornish,
+      too, had come forward, and, cup in hand, stood looking down at Miss Roden
+      with a doubtful air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I always distrust women who say that,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One naturally suspects
+      them of having got what they want by some underhand means&mdash;and of
+      having abandoned the rest of their sex. This is an age of amalgamation; is
+      not that so, Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and sat down near to Dorothy. Roden thus appealed to, made some
+      necessary remark, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. It seemed
+      that Cornish was quite capable, however, of carrying on the conversation
+      by himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know nothing about your wrongs, either?&rdquo; he asked Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I have not even the wit to know that I have any.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;No wonder Joan ceased writing to you. You
+      are a most suspicious case, Miss Roden. Of course you have righted your
+      wrongs&mdash;<i>sub rosa</i>&mdash;and leave other women to manage their
+      own affairs. That is what is called a blackleg. You are untrue to the
+      Union. In these days we all belong to some cause or another. We cannot
+      help it, and recent legislation adds daily to the difficulty. We must
+      either be rich or poor. At present the only way to live at peace with
+      one's poorer neighbours is to submit to a certain amount of robbery. But
+      some day the classes must combine to make a stand against the masses. The
+      masses are already combined. We must either be a man or a woman. Some day
+      the men must combine against the women, who are already united behind a
+      vociferous vanguard. May I have some more tea?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid I have been left behind in the general advance,&rdquo; said Miss
+      Roden, taking his cup.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid so. Of course I don't know where we are advancing to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He paused and drank the tea slowly. &ldquo;No one knows that,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Probably to a point where we shall all suddenly begin fighting for
+      ourselves again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is possible,&rdquo; he said gravely, setting down his cup. &ldquo;And now I must
+      find my way back to The Hague. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is clever,&rdquo; said Dorothy, when Roden returned after having shown
+      Cornish the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden, without enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not seem to be pleased at the thought,&rdquo; she said carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;it will be all right! If his cleverness runs in the right
+      direction.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII. OFFICIAL.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;One may be so much a man of the world as to be nothing in
+     the world.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Political Economy will some day have to recognize Philanthropy as a
+      possible&mdash;nay, a certain stumbling-block in the world's progress
+      towards that millennium when Supply and Demand shall sit down together in
+      peace. Charity is certainly sowing seed into the ridges of time which will
+      bear startling fruit in the future. For Charity does not hesitate to close
+      up an industry or interfere with a trade that supplies thousands with
+      their daily bread. Thus the Malgamite scheme so glibly inaugurated by Lord
+      Ferriby in his drawing-room bore fruit within a week in a quarter to which
+      probably few concerned had ever thought of casting an eye. The price of a
+      high-class tinted paper fell in all the markets of the world. This paper
+      could only be manufactured with a large addition of malgamite to its other
+      components. In what may be called the prospectus of the Malgamite scheme
+      it was stated that this great charity was inaugurated for the purpose of
+      relieving the distress of the malgamiters&mdash;one of the industrial
+      scandals of the day&mdash;by enabling these afflicted men to make their
+      deadly product at a cheaper rate and without danger to themselves. This
+      prospectus naturally came to the hands of those most concerned, namely,
+      the manufacturers of coloured papers and the brokers who supply those
+      manufacturers with their raw material.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thus Lord Ferriby, beaming benignantly from a bower of chrysanthemums on a
+      certain evening one winter not so many years ago, set rolling a small
+      stone upon a steep hill. So, in fact, wags the world; and none of us may
+      know when the echo of a careless word will cease vibrating in the hearts
+      of some that hear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamite trade was what is called a <i>close</i> one&mdash;that is to
+      say that this product passed out into the world through the hands of a few
+      brokers and these brokers were powerless, in face of Lord Ferriby's
+      announcement, to prevent the price of malgamite from falling. As this fell
+      so fell the prices of the many kinds of paper which could not be
+      manufactured without it. Thus indirectly, Lord Ferriby, with that
+      obtuseness which very often finds itself in company with a highly
+      developed philanthropy, touched the daily lives of thousands and thousands
+      of people. And he did not know it. And Tony Cornish knew it not. And Joan
+      and the subscribers never dreamt or thought of such a thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The paper market became what is called sensitive&mdash;that is to say,
+      prices rose and fell suddenly without apparent reason. Some men made money
+      and others lost it. Presently, however&mdash;that is to say, in the month
+      of March&mdash;two months after Tony Cornish had safely conveyed his
+      malgamite makers to their new home on the sand dunes of Scheveningen&mdash;the
+      paper markets of the world began to settle down again, and steadier prices
+      ruled. This could be traced&mdash;as all commercial changes may be traced&mdash;to
+      the original flow at one of the fountain-heads of supply and demand. It
+      arose from the simple fact that a broker in London had bought some of the
+      new malgamite&mdash;the Scheveningen malgamite&mdash;and had issued it to
+      his clients, who said that it was good. He had, moreover, bought it
+      cheaper. In a couple of days all the world&mdash;all the world concerned
+      in the matter&mdash;knew of it. Such is commerce at the end of the
+      century.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Cornish, casually looking in at the little office of the Malgamite
+      Charity, where a German clerk recommended by Herr von Holzen kept the
+      books of the scheme, found his table littered with telegrams. Tony Cornish
+      had a reputation for being clever. He was, as a matter of fact,
+      intelligent. The world nearly always mistakes intelligence for cleverness,
+      just as it nearly always mistakes laughter for happiness. He was, however,
+      clever enough to have found out during the last two months that the
+      Malgamite scheme was a bigger thing than either he or his uncle had ever
+      imagined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many questions had arisen during those two months of Cornish's honorary
+      secretary ship of the charity which he had been unable to answer, and
+      which he had been obliged to refer to Roden and Von Holzen. These had
+      replied readily, and the matter as solved by them seemed simple enough.
+      But each question seemed to have side issues&mdash;indeed, the whole
+      scheme appeared suddenly to bristle with side issues, and Tony Cornish
+      began to find himself getting really interested in something at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The telegrams were not alone upon his office table. There were letters as
+      well. It was a nice little office, furnished by Joan with a certain
+      originality which certainly made it different from any other office in
+      Westminster. It had, moreover, the great recommendation of being above a
+      Ladies' Tea Association, so that afternoon tea could be easily procured.
+      The German clerk quite counted on receiving three half-holidays a week and
+      Joan brought her friends to tea, and her mother to chaperon. These little
+      tea-parties became quite notorious, and there was a question of a cottage
+      piano, which was finally abandoned in favour of a banjo. It happened to be
+      a wire-puzzle winter, and Cornish had the best collection of rings on
+      impossible wire mazes, and glass beads strung upon intertwisted hooks, in
+      Westminster, if not, indeed, in the whole of London. Then, of course,
+      there were the committee meetings&mdash;that is to say, the meeting of the
+      lady committees of the bazaar and ball sub-committees. The wire puzzles
+      and the association tea were an immense feature of these.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite accustomed to finding a number of letters awaiting him,
+      and had been compelled to buy a waste-paper basket of abnormal dimensions&mdash;so
+      many moribund charities cast envious eyes upon the Malgamite scheme, and
+      wondered how it was done, and, on the chance of it, offered Cornish
+      honourable honorary posts. But the telegrams had been few, and nearly all
+      from Roden. There was a letter from Roden this morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DEAR CORNISH&rdquo; (he wrote),&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will probably receive applications from malgamite workers in
+      different parts of the world for permission to enter our works. Accept
+      them all, and arrange for their enlistment as soon as possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours in haste,
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;P.R.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was usually in haste, and wrote a bad letter in a beautiful
+      handwriting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to the telegrams. They were one and all applications from
+      malgamite makers&mdash;from Venice to Valparaiso&mdash;to be enrolled in
+      the Scheveningen group. He was still reading them when Lord Ferriby came
+      into the little office. His lordship was wearing a new fancy waistcoat. It
+      was the month of April&mdash;the month assuredly of fancy waistcoats
+      throughout all nature. Lord Ferriby was, as usual, rather pleased with
+      himself. He had walked down Piccadilly with great effect, and a bishop had
+      bowed to him, recognizing, in a sense, a lay bishop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have you got there, Tony?&rdquo; he asked, affably, laying his smart
+      walking-stick on an inlaid bureau, which was supposed to be his, and was
+      always closed, and had nothing in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Telegrams,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;from malgamite makers, who want to join
+      the works at Scheveningen. Seventy-six of them. I don't quite understand
+      this business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I,&rdquo; admitted Lord Ferriby, in a voice which clearly indicated
+      that if he only took the trouble he could understand anything. &ldquo;But I
+      fancy it is one of the biggest things in charity that has ever been
+      started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the company of men, and especially of young men, Lord Ferriby allowed
+      himself a little license in speech. He at times almost verged on the
+      slangy, which is, of course, quite correct and <i>de haut ton</i>, and he
+      did not want to be taken for an old buffer, as were his contemporaries.
+      Therefore he called himself an old buffer whenever he could. <i>Qui
+      s'excuse s'accuse.</i>
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;we must take the poor fellows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Without comment, Cornish handed him Roden's letter, and while Lord Ferriby
+      read it, employed himself in making out a list of the names and addresses
+      of the applicants. Cornish was, in fact, rising to the occasion. In other
+      circumstances Anthony Cornish might with favourable influence&mdash;say
+      that of a Scottish head clerk&mdash;have been made into what is called a
+      good business man. Without any training whatever, and with an education
+      which consisted only of a smattering of the classics and a rigid code of
+      honour, he usually perceived what it was wise to do. Some people call this
+      genius; others, luck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;that Roden is of the same opinion as myself.
+      A shrewd fellow, Roden.&rdquo; And he pulled down his fancy waistcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I may write, or telegraph, to these men, and tell them to come?&rdquo;
+       asked Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most certainly, my dear Anthony. We will collect them, or muster them, as
+      White calls it, in London, and then send them to Scheveningen, as before,
+      when Roden and Herr von Holzen are ready for them. Send a note to White,
+      whose department this mustering is. As a soldier he understands the
+      handling of a body of men. You and I are more competent to deal with a sum
+      of money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby glanced towards the door to make sure that it was open, so
+      that the German clerk in the outer office should lose nothing that could
+      only be for his good&mdash;might, in fact, pick up a few crumbs from the
+      richly stored table of a great man's mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby leisurely withdrew his gloves and laid them on the inlaid
+      bureau. He had the physique of a director of public companies, and the
+      grave manner that impresses shareholders. He talked of the weather, drew
+      Cornish's attention to a blot of ink on the high-art wallpaper, and then
+      put on his gloves again, well pleased with himself and his morning's work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything appears to be in order, my dear Anthony,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So there
+      is nothing to keep me here any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; replied Cornish; and his lordship departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish remained until it was time to go across St. James's Park to his
+      club to lunch. He answered a certain number of letters himself, the others
+      he handed over to the German clerk&mdash;a man with all the virtues,
+      smooth, upright hair, and a dreamy eye. The malgamite makers were bidden
+      to come as soon as they liked. After luncheon Cornish had to hurry back to
+      Great George Street. This was one of his busy days. At four o'clock there
+      was to be a meeting of the floor committee of the approaching ball, and
+      Cornish remembered that he had been specially told to get a new bass
+      string for the banjo. The Hon. Rupert Dalkyn had promised to come, but had
+      vowed that he would not touch the banjo again unless it had new strings.
+      So Cornish bought the bass string at the Army and Navy Stores, and the
+      first preparation for the meeting of the floor committee was the tuning of
+      the banjo by the German clerk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There were, of course, flowers to be bought and arranged <i>tant bien que
+      mal</i> in empty ink-stands, a conceit of Joan's, who refused to spend the
+      fund money in any ornament less serious, while she quite recognized the
+      necessity for flowers on the table of a mixed committee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Hon. Rupert was the first to arrive. He was very small and neat and
+      rather effeminate. The experienced could tell at a glance that he came
+      from a fighting stock. He wore a grave and rather preoccupied air. He sat
+      down on the arm of a chair and looked sadly into the fire, while his lips
+      moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got something on your mind?&rdquo; asked Cornish, who was putting the finishing
+      touches to the arrangement of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a new song composed for the occasion 'The Maudlin Malgamite'; like
+      to hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I would rather wait. I think I hear a carriage at the door,&rdquo; said
+      Cornish, hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rupert Dalkyn had to be elected to the floor committee because he was Mrs.
+      Courteville's brother, and Mrs. Courteville was the best chaperon in
+      London. She was not only a widow, but her husband had been killed in
+      rather painful circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor dear,&rdquo; the people said when she had done something perhaps a little
+      unusual&mdash;&ldquo;poor dear; you know her husband was killed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So the late Courteville, in his lone grave by the banks of the Ogowe
+      River, watched over his wife's welfare, and made quite a nice place for
+      her in London society.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Rupert himself had been intended for the Church, but had at Cambridge
+developed such an exquisite sense of humour and so killing a power of
+mimicry that no one of the dons was safe, and his friends told him that
+he really mustn't. So he didn't. Since then Rupert had, to tell the
+truth, done nothing. The exquisite sense of humour had also slightly
+evaporated. People said, &ldquo;Oh yes, very funny,&rdquo; than which nothing is
+ more fatal to humour; and elderly ladies smiled a pinched smile at one
+side of their lips. It is so difficult to see a joke through those
+long-handled eye-glasses.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite right when he said that he had heard a carriage, for
+      presently the door opened, and Mrs. Courteville came in. She was small and
+      slight&mdash;&ldquo;a girlish figure,&rdquo; her maid told her&mdash;and well dressed.
+      She was just at that age when she did not look it&mdash;at an age,
+      moreover, when some women seem to combine a maximum of experience with a
+      minimum of thought. But who are we to pick holes in our neighbours'
+      garments? If any of us is quite sure that he is not doing more harm than
+      good in the world, let him by all means throw stones at Mrs. Courteville.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan arrived next, accompanied by Lady Ferriby, who knew that if she
+      stayed at home she would only have to give tea to a number of people
+      towards whom she did not feel kindly enough disposed to reconcile herself
+      to the expense. Joan glanced hastily from Mrs. Courteville to Tony. She
+      had noticed that Mrs. Courteville always arrived early at the floor
+      committee meetings when these were held at the Malgamite office or in
+      Cornish's rooms. Joan wondered, while Mrs. Courteville was kissing her,
+      whether the widow had come with her brother or before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he not made the room look pretty with that mimosa?&rdquo; asked Mrs.
+      Courteville, vivaciously. People did not know how matters stood between
+      Joan Ferriby and Tony Cornish, and always wanted to know. That is why Mrs.
+      Courteville said &ldquo;he&rdquo; only when she drew Joan's attention to the flowers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The meeting may best be described as lively. We belong, however, to an
+      eminently practical generation, and some business was really transacted.
+      The night for the Malgamite ball was fixed, and a list of stewards drawn
+      up; and then the Hon. Rupert played the banjo.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Ferriby had some calls to pay, so Cornish volunteered to walk across
+      the park with Joan, who had a healthy love of exercise. They talked of
+      various matters, and of course returned again and again to the Malgamite
+      affairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Joan, at the corner of Cambridge Terrace, &ldquo;I had a
+      letter this morning from Dorothy Roden. I was at school with her, you
+      know, and never dreamt that Mr. Roden was her brother. In fact, I had
+      nearly forgotten her existence. She is coming across for the ball. She
+      says she saw you when you were at The Hague. You never mentioned her,
+      Tony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't I? She is not interested in the Malgamite scheme, you know. And
+      nobody who is not interested in that is worth mentioning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Then Cornish asked a
+      question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of person was she at school?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, she was a frivolous sort of girl&mdash;never took anything seriously,
+      you know. That is why she is not interested in the Malgamite, I suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; said Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII. THE SEAMY SIDE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;For this is death, and the sole death,
+     When a man's loss comes to him from his gain.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart told Roden that her house was in Park Street in The Hague.
+      But she did not mention that it was at the corner of Orange Street, which
+      makes all the difference. For Park Street is long, and the further end of
+      it&mdash;the extremity furthest removed from the Royal Palace&mdash;is
+      less desirable than the neighbourhood of the Vyverberg. Mrs. Vansittart's
+      house was in the most desirable part of a most desirable little city. She
+      was surrounded with houses inhabited by people bearing names well known in
+      history. These people are, moreover, of a fascinating cosmopolitanism.
+      They come from all parts of the world, in an ancestral sense. There are,
+      for instance, Dutch people living here whose names are Scottish. There are
+      others of French extraction, others again whose forefathers came to
+      Holland with the Don Juan of the religious wars whose history reads like a
+      romance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outwardly Mrs. Vansittart's house was of dark red brick, with stone
+      facings, and probably belonged to that period which in England is called
+      Tudor. Inwardly the house was as comfortable as thick carpets and rich
+      curtains and beautiful carvings could make it. The Dutch are pre-eminently
+      the flower-growers of the world, and the observant traveller walking along
+      Orange Street may note even in midwinter that the flowers in the windows
+      are changed each day. In this, as in other <i>menus plaisirs</i>, Mrs.
+      Vansittart had assumed the ways of the country of her adoption. For
+      Holland suggests to the inquiring mind an elderly gentleman, now getting a
+      little stout, who, after a wild youth, is beginning to appreciate the
+      blessings of repose and comfort; who, having laid by a small sufficiency,
+      sits peaceably by the fire, and reflects upon the days that are no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Mrs. Vansittart's pleasant habit to surround herself with every
+      comfort. She was an eminently self-respecting person&mdash;of that
+      self-respect which denies itself nothing except excess. She liked to be
+      well dressed, well housed, and well served. She possessed money, and with
+      it she bought these adjuncts, which in a minor degree are within the reach
+      of nearly everybody, though few have the wit to value them. She was not,
+      however, a vociferously contented woman. Like many another, she probably
+      wanted something that money could not buy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, in fulfilment of her promise to Percy Roden, called on
+      Dorothy at the Villa des Dunes, who in due course came to the house at the
+      corner of Park Street and Orange Street to return the visit. Dorothy had
+      been out when Mrs. Vansittart called, but she thought she knew from her
+      brother's description what sort of woman to expect. For Dorothy Roden had
+      been educated abroad, and was not without knowledge of a certain class of
+      English lady to be met with on the Continent, who is always well
+      connected, invariably idle, and usually refers gracefully to a great
+      sorrow in the past.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Dorothy knew, as soon as she saw Mrs. Vansittart that she had formed
+      an entirely erroneous conception. This was not the sort of woman to seek
+      the admiration of the first-comer, and Percy Roden had allowed his sister
+      to surmise that, whether it had been sought or not, Mrs. Vansittart had
+      certainly been accorded his highest admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is good of you to return my call so soon,&rdquo; she said, in a friendly
+      voice. &ldquo;You have walked, I suppose, all the way from the Villa des Dunes.
+      English girls are such great walkers now&mdash;a most excellent thing. I
+      belong to the semi-generation older than yours, which preferred a
+      carriage. I am an atrocious walker. You are not at all like your brother.&rdquo;
+       And she threw back her head and looked speculatively at her visitor. &ldquo;Sit
+      down,&rdquo; she said, with a laugh. &ldquo;You probably came here harbouring a
+      prejudice against me. One should never get to know a woman through her
+      men-folk. That is a rule almost without exception; you may take it from
+      one who is many years older than you. But&mdash;well, <i>nous verrons</i>.
+      Perhaps we are the exception.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, who was ready enough of speech. &ldquo;At all
+      events, all that Percy told me made me anxious to meet you. It is rather
+      lonely, you know, at the Villa des Dunes. You see, Percy is engaged all
+      day with his malgamiters. And, of course, we know no one here yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart, ringing the bell
+      for tea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes. The man who is associated with Percy at the works? I do not know
+      him. Percy has not brought him to the villa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Is that so? That is nice of your brother. Sometimes men, you know,
+      make use of their wives or their sisters to help them in their business
+      relationships. I have known a man use his pretty daughter to gain a
+      client. Beauty levels all, you see. Not nice, no; I suppose Herr von
+      Holzen, is&mdash;well&mdash;let us call him a foreign savant. Such a nice
+      broad term, you know; covers such a plentiful lack of soap.&rdquo; And she
+      laughed easily, with eyes that were quite grave and alert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My brother does not say much about him,&rdquo; answered Dorothy Roden. &ldquo;Percy
+      never does tell me much of his affairs, and I am not sorry. I am sure I
+      should not understand them. Stocks and shares and freights and things. I
+      never quite know whether a freight is part of a ship; do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. There are so many things more useful to know, are there not?&mdash;things
+      about people and human nature, for instance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Dorothy, looking at her companion thoughtfully&mdash;&ldquo;yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mrs. Vansittart returned that thoughtful glance. &ldquo;And the other man,&rdquo;
+       she said suddenly, &ldquo;Mr.&mdash;Cornish&mdash;do you know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He called at the Villa des Dunes. My brother brought him in to tea the
+      evening of arrival of the first batch of malgamiters,&rdquo; replied Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish interests me,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;I knew him when he was
+      a boy&mdash;or little more than a boy. He came to Weimar with a tutor to
+      learn German when I happened to be living there. I have heard of him from
+      time to time since. One sees his name in the society papers, you know. He
+      is one of those persons of whom something is expected by his friends&mdash;not
+      by himself. The young man who expects something of himself is usually
+      disappointed. Have you ever noticed in the biographies of great men, Miss
+      Roden that people nearly always began to expect something of them when
+      they were quite young? As if they were cast in a different mould from the
+      very first. Really great men, I mean not the fashionable pianist or
+      novelist of the hour whose portrait is in every illustrated journal for
+      perhaps two months, and then he is forgotten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart spoke quickly in a foreign manner, asking with a certain
+      vivacity questions which required no answer. Dorothy Roden was not slow of
+      speech, but she touched topics with less airiness. Her mind seemed a
+      trifle insular in its tendencies. One topic attracted her, and the rest
+      were set aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why does Mr. Cornish interest you?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart shrugged her shoulders and leant back in her deep chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He strikes me as a person with infinite capacity for holding his cards.
+      That is all. But perhaps he has no good cards in his hand? Nothing but
+      rubbish&mdash;the twos and threes of ordinary drawing-room smartness&mdash;and
+      never a trump. Who can tell? <i>Qui vivra verra</i>, Miss. Roden. It may
+      not be in my time that the world shall hear of Tony Cornish&mdash;the real
+      world, not the journalistic world, I mean. He may ripen slowly, and I
+      shall be dead. I am getting elderly. How old do you think I am, Miss
+      Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thirty-five,&rdquo; replied Dorothy; and Mrs. Vansittart turned sharply to look
+      at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said, slowly and thoughtfully. &ldquo;Yes, you are quite right. That
+      is my age. And I suppose I look it. I suppose others would have guessed
+      with equal facility, but not everybody would have had the honesty to say
+      what they thought.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy laughed and changed colour. &ldquo;I said it without thinking,&rdquo; she
+      answered. &ldquo;I hope you do not mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I do not mind,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, looking out of the window. &ldquo;But
+      we were talking of Mr. Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, buttoning her glove and glancing at the clock.
+      &ldquo;Yes; but I must not talk any longer or I shall be late, and my brother
+      expects to find me at home when he returns from the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose and shook hands, looking Mrs. Vansittart in the eyes. When
+      Dorothy had gone, the lady of the house stood for a minute looking at the
+      closed door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder what she thinks of me?&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Dorothy Roden, walking down Park Straat, was doing the same. She was
+      wondering what she thought of Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Although it was the month of April, the winter mists still rose at evening
+      and swept seawards from the marshes of Leyden. The trees had scarcely
+      begun to break into bud, for it had been a cold spring, and the ice was
+      floating lazily on the canal as Dorothy walked along its bank. The Villa
+      des Dunes was certainly somewhat lonely, standing as it did a couple of
+      hundred yards back from a sandy road&mdash;one of the many leading from
+      The Hague to Scheveningen. Between the villa and the road the dunes had
+      scarcely been molested, except indeed, to cut a narrow roadway to the
+      house. When Dorothy reached home, she found that her brother had not yet
+      returned. She looked at the clock. He was later than usual. The malgamite
+      works had during the last few weeks been absorbing more and more of his
+      attention. When he returned home, tired, in the evening, he was not
+      communicative. As for Otto von Holzen, he never showed his face outside
+      the works now, but seemed to live the life of a recluse within the iron
+      fence that surrounded the little colony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden had not returned to the Villa des Dunes at the usual hour
+      because he had other work to do. Von Holzen and he were now standing in
+      one of the little huts in silence. The light of the setting sun glowed
+      through the window upon their faces, upon the bare walls of the room,
+      rendered barer and in no way beautified by a terrible German print
+      purporting to represent the features of Prince Bismarck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, and looked out
+      of the window across the dreary dunes. Roden stood beside him, slouching
+      and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets. His lower lip
+      was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn and anxious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed, between the two men, lay a third&mdash;an old-looking youth
+      with lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and
+      it was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere. The man
+      was dying. He was a Pole who understood no word of English. Indeed, these
+      three men had no language in common in which to make themselves
+      understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you do nothing at all?&rdquo; asked Roden, for the second or third time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, without turning round. &ldquo;He was a doomed
+      man when he came here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man lay on the bed and stared at Von Holzen's back. Perhaps that was
+      the reason why Von Holzen so persistently looked out of the window. The
+      work-hours were over, and from some neighbouring cottage the sounds of a
+      concertina came on the quiet air. The musician had chosen a popular
+      music-hall song, which he played over and over again with a maddening
+      pertinacity. Roden bit his lip, and frowned at each repetition of the
+      opening bars. Von Holzen, with a still, pale face and stern eyes, seemed
+      to hear nothing. He had no nerves. At times he twisted his lips,
+      moistening them with his tongue, and suppressed an impatient sigh. The man
+      was a long time in dying. They had been waiting there two hours. This
+      little incident had to be passed over as quietly as possible on account of
+      the feelings of the concertina player and the others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The door stood ajar, and in the adjoining room a professional nurse, in
+      cap and apron, sat reading a German newspaper. This also was a bedroom.
+      The cottage was, in point of fact, the hospital of the malgamite workers.
+      The nurse, whose services had not hitherto been wanted, had since the
+      inauguration of the works spent some pleasant weeks at a pension at
+      Scheveningen. She read her newspaper very philosophically, and waited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden it was who watched the patient. The dying man never heeded him, but
+      looked persistently towards Von Holzen. The expression of his eyes
+      indicated that if they had had a language in common he would have spoken
+      to him. Roden saw the direction of the man's glance, and perhaps read its
+      meaning. For Percy Roden was handicapped with that greatest of all drags
+      on a successful career&mdash;a soft heart. He could speak harshly enough
+      of the malgamiters as a class, but he was drawn towards this dumb
+      individual, with a strong desire to effect the impossible. Von Holzen had
+      not promised that there should be no deaths. He had merely undertaken to
+      reduce the dangers of the malgamite industry gradually and steadily until
+      they ceased to exist. He had, moreover, the strength of mind to give to
+      this incident its proper weight in the balance of succeeding events. He
+      was not, in a word, handicapped as was his colleague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sun set beyond the quiet sea and over the sand dunes the shades of
+      evening crept towards the west. The outline of Prince Bismarck's iron face
+      faded slowly in the gathering darkness, until it was nothing but a shadow
+      in a frame on the bare wall. The concertina player had laid aside his
+      instrument. A sudden silence fell upon land and sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen turned sharply on his heel and leant over the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along,&rdquo; he said to Roden, with averted eyes. &ldquo;It is all over. There
+      is nothing more for us to do here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a backward glance towards the bed, Roden followed his companion, out
+      of the room into the adjoining apartment where the nurse was sitting, and
+      where their coats and hats lay on the bed. Von Holzen spoke to the woman
+      in German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So!&rdquo; she answered, with a mild interest, and folded her paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men went out into the keen air together, and did not look towards
+      each other or speak. Perhaps they knew that if there is any difficulty in
+      speaking of a subject it is better to keep silence. They crossed the sandy
+      space between this cottage and the others grouped round the factory like
+      tents around their headquarters. One of these huts was Von Holzen's&mdash;a
+      three-roomed building where he worked and slept. Its windows looked out
+      upon the factory, and commanded the only entrance to the railed enclosure
+      within which the whole colony was confined. It was Von Holzen's habit to
+      shut himself within his cottage for days together, living there in
+      solitude like some crustacean within its shell. At the door he turned,
+      with his fingers on the handle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not worry yourself about this,&rdquo; he said to Roden, with averted
+      eyes. &ldquo;It cannot be helped, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And of course we must keep our own counsel. Good night, Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course. Good night, Von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Percy Roden passed through the gateway, walking slowly across the
+      dunes towards his own house; while Von Holzen watched him from the window
+      of the little three-roomed cottage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX. A SHADOW FROM THE PAST.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le plus sur moyen d'arriver à son but c'est de ne pas faire
+     de rencontres en chemin.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it was long ago&mdash;'lang, lang izt's her'&mdash;you remember the
+      song Frau Neumayer always sang. So long ago, Mr. Cornish, that&mdash;&mdash;Well,
+      it must be Mr. Cornish, and not Tony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart leant back in her comfortable chair and looked at her
+      visitor with observant eyes. Those who see the most are they who never
+      appear to be observing. It is fatal to have others say that one is so
+      sharp, and people said as much of Mrs. Vansittart, who had quick dark eyes
+      and an alert manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;it is long ago, but not so long as all that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His smooth fair face was slightly troubled by the knowledge that the
+      recollections to which she referred were those of the Weimar days when she
+      who was now a widow had been a young married woman. Tony Cornish had also
+      been young in those days, and impressionable. It was before the world had
+      polished his surface bright and hard. And the impression left of the Mrs.
+      Vansittart of Weimar was that she was one of the rare women who marry <i>pour
+      le bon motif</i>. He had met her by accident in the streets of The Hague a
+      few hours ago, and having learnt her address, had, in duty bound, called
+      at the house at the corner of Park Straat and Oranje Straat at the
+      earliest calling hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not ignorant of your history since you were at Weimar,&rdquo; said the
+      lady, looking at him with an air of almost maternal scrutiny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no history,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;I never had a past even, a few years
+      ago, when every man who took himself seriously had at least one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke as he had learnt to speak, with the surface of his mind&mdash;with
+      the object of passing the time and avoiding topics that might possibly be
+      painful. Many who appear to be egotistical must assuredly be credited with
+      this good motive. One is, at all events, safe in talking of one's self.
+      Sufficient for the social day is the effort to avoid glancing at the
+      cupboard where our neighbour keeps his skeleton.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A silence followed Cornish's heroic speech, and it was perhaps better to
+      face it than stave it off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, at the end of that pause, &ldquo;I am a widow and
+      childless. I see the questions in your face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish gave a little nod of the head, and looked out of the window. Mrs.
+      Vansittart was only a year older than himself, but the difference in their
+      life and experience, when they had learnt to know each other at Weimar,
+      had in some subtle way augmented the seniority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you never&mdash;&rdquo; he said, and paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she answered lightly. &ldquo;So I am what the world calls independent, you
+      see. No encumbrance of any sort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he nodded without speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The line between an encumbrance and a purpose is not very clearly
+      defined, is it?&rdquo; she said lightly; and then added a question, &ldquo;What are
+      you doing in The Hague&mdash;Malgamite?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, in surprise, &ldquo;Malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know all about it,&rdquo; laughed Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;I see Dorothy Roden
+      at least once a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she takes no part in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she takes no part in it, <i>mon ami</i>, except in so far as it
+      affects her brother and compels her to live in a sad little villa on the
+      Dunes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you&mdash;you are interested?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most assuredly. I have even given my mite. I am interested in&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      paused and shrugged her shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;in you, since you ask me, in
+      Dorothy, and in Mr. Roden. He gave the flowers at which you are so
+      earnestly looking, by the way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Cornish, politely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, with a passing smile. &ldquo;He is kind enough
+      to give me flowers from time to time. You never gave me flowers, Mr.
+      Cornish, in the olden times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I could not afford good ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you would not offer anything more reasonable?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to you,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But of course that was long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I am glad to hear that you know Miss Roden. It will make the little
+      villa on the Dunes less sad. The atmosphere of malgamite is not cheerful.
+      One sees it at its best in a London drawing-room. It is one of the many
+      realities which have an evil odour when approached too closely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are coming nearer to it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is coming nearer to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, examining the rings with which her fingers
+      were laden. &ldquo;I thought there would be developments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are developments. Hence my presence in The Hague. Lord Ferriby <i>et
+      famille</i> arrive to-morrow. Also my friend Major White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fighting man?&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the fighting man. We are to have a solemn meeting. It has been found
+      necessary to alter our financial basis&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart held up a warning hand. &ldquo;Do not talk to me of your
+      financial basis. I know nothing of money. It is not from that point of
+      view that I contemplate your Malgamite scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Then, if one may inquire, from what point of view....?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From the human point of view; as does every other woman connected with
+      it. We are advancing, I admit, but I think we shall always be willing to
+      leave the&mdash;financial basis&mdash;to your down-trodden sex.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very kind of you to be interested in these poor people,&rdquo; began
+      Cornish; but Mrs. Vansittart interrupted him vivaciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor people? Gott bewahre!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Did you think I meant the
+      workers? Oh no! I am not interested in them. I am interested in your
+      Rodens and your Ferribys and your Whites, and even in your Tony Cornish. I
+      wonder who will quarrel and who will&mdash;well, do the contrary, and what
+      will come of it all? In my day young people were brought together by a
+      common pleasure, but that has gone out of fashion. And now it is a common
+      endeavour to achieve the impossible, to check the stars in their courses
+      by the holding of mixed meetings, and the enunciation of second-hand
+      platitudes respecting the poor and the masses&mdash;this is what brings
+      the present generation into that intercourse which ends in love and
+      marriage and death&mdash;the old programme. And it is from that point of
+      view alone, <i>mon ami</i>, that I take a particle of interest in your
+      Malgamite scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All of which Tony Cornish remembered later; for it was untrue. He rose to
+      take his leave with polite hopes of seeing her again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, do not hurry away,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am expecting Dorothy Roden, who
+      promised to come to tea. She will be disappointed not to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed in his light way. &ldquo;You are kind in your assumptions,&rdquo; he
+      answered. &ldquo;Miss Roden is barely aware of my existence, and would not know
+      me from Adam.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless he stayed, moving about the room for some minutes looking at
+      the flowers and the pictures, of which he knew just as much as was
+      desirable and fashionable. He knew what flowers were &ldquo;in,&rdquo; such as
+      fuchsias and tulips, and what were &ldquo;out,&rdquo; such as camellias and double
+      hyacinths. About the pictures he knew a little, and asked questions as to
+      some upon the walls that belonged to the Dutch school. He was of the
+      universe, universal. Then he sat down again unobtrusively, and Mrs.
+      Vansittart did not seem to notice that he had done so, though she glanced
+      at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A few minutes later Dorothy came in. She changed colour when Mrs.
+      Vansittart half introduced Cornish with the conventional, &ldquo;I think you
+      know each other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew you were coming to The Hague,&rdquo; she said, shaking hands with
+      Cornish. &ldquo;I had a letter from Joan the other day. They all are coming, are
+      they not? I am afraid Joan will be very much disappointed in me. She
+      thinks I am wrapped up heart and soul in the malgamiters&mdash;and I am
+      not, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned with a little laugh, and appealed to Mrs. Vansittart, who was
+      watching her closely, as if Dorothy were displaying some quality or point
+      hitherto unknown to the older woman. The girl's eyes were certainly
+      brighter than usual.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Joan takes some things very seriously,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We all do that,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, without looking up from the
+      tea-table at which she was engaged. &ldquo;Yes; it is a mistake, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possibly,&rdquo; assented Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Do you take sugar, Miss Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, please&mdash;seriously. Two pieces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you like Joan?&rdquo; asked Cornish, as he gave her the cup. &ldquo;Do you take
+      anything else seriously?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no,&rdquo; answered Dorothy Roden, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And your brother?&rdquo; inquired Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Is he coming this
+      afternoon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will follow me. He is busy with the new malgamiters who arrived this
+      morning. I suppose you brought them, Mr. Cornish?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I brought them. Twenty-four of them&mdash;the dregs, so to speak.
+      The very last of the malgamiters, collected from all parts of the world. I
+      was not proud of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down and quickly changed the conversation, showing quite clearly
+      that this subject interested him as little as it interested his
+      companions. He brought the latest news from London, which the ladies were
+      glad enough to hear. For to Dorothy Roden, at least, The Hague was a place
+      of exile, where men lived different lives and women thought different
+      thoughts. Are there not a hundred little rivulets of news which never flow
+      through the journals, but are passed from mouth to mouth, and seem shallow
+      enough, but which, uniting at last, form a great stream of public opinion,
+      and this, having formed itself imperceptibly, is suddenly found in full
+      flow, and is so obvious that the newspapers forget to mention it? Thus
+      colonists and other exiles returning to England, and priding themselves
+      upon having kept in touch with the progress of events and ideas in the old
+      country, find that their thoughts have all the while been running in the
+      wrong channels&mdash;that seemingly great events have been considered very
+      small, that small ideas have been lifted high by the babbling crowd which
+      is vaguely called society.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+From Tony Cornish, Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy learnt that among other
+social playthings charity was for the moment being laid aside. We have
+inherited, it appears, a great box of playthings, and the careful
+ student of history will find that none of the toys are new&mdash;that they
+have indeed been played with by our forefathers, who did just as we do.
+They took each toy from the box, and cried aloud that it was new, that
+the world had never seen its like before. Had it not, indeed? Then
+presently the toy&mdash;be it charity, or a new religion, or sentiment, or
+greed of gain, or war&mdash;is thrown back into the box again, where it lies
+until we of a later day drag it forth with the same cry that it is new.
+We grow wild with excitement over South African mines, and never
+recognize the old South Sea bubble trimmed anew to suit the taste of
+the day. We crow with delight over our East End slums, and never
+recognize the patched-up remnants of the last Crusade that fizzled out
+so ignominiously at Acre five hundred years ago.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      So Tony Cornish, who was <i>dans le movement</i> gently intimated to his
+      hearers that what may be called a robuster tone ruled the spirit of the
+      age. Charity was going down, athletics were coming up. Another Olympiad
+      had passed away. Wise indeed was Solon, who allowed four years for men to
+      soften and to harden again. During the Olympiads it is to be presumed that
+      men busied themselves with the slums that existed in those days, hearkened
+      to the decadent poetry or fiction of that time, and then, as the robuster
+      period of the games came round, braced themselves once more to the
+      consideration of braver things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It appeared, therefore, that the Malgamite scheme was already a thing of
+      the past so far as social London was concerned. A sensational 'Varsity
+      boat-race had given charity its <i>coup de grace</i>, had ushered in the
+      spring, when even the poor must shift for themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in the mean time,&rdquo; commented Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;here are four hundred
+      industrials landed, if one may so put it, at The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; but that will be all right,&rdquo; retorted Cornish, with his gay laugh.
+      &ldquo;They only wanted a start. They have got their start. What more can they
+      desire? Is not Lord Ferriby himself coming across? He is at the moment on
+      board the Flushing boat. And he is making a great sacrifice, for he must
+      be aware that he does not look nearly so impressive on the Continent as he
+      does, say in Piccadilly, where the policemen know him, and even the
+      newspaper boys are dimly aware that this is no ordinary man to whom one
+      may offer a halfpenny Radical paper&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish broke off, and looked towards the door, which was at this moment
+      thrown open by a servant, who announced&mdash;&ldquo;Herr Roden. Herr von
+      Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men came forward together, Roden slouching and heavy-shouldered,
+      but well dressed; Von Holzen smaller, compacter, with a thoughtful, still
+      face and calculating eyes. Roden introduced his companion to the two
+      ladies. It is possible that a certain reluctance in his manner indicated
+      the fact that he had brought Von Holzen against his own desire. Either Von
+      Holzen had asked to be brought or Mrs. Vansittart had intimated to Roden
+      that she would welcome his associate, but this was not touched upon in the
+      course of the introduction. Cornish looked gravely on. Von Holzen was
+      betrayed into a momentary gaucheness, as if he were not quite at home in a
+      drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden drew forward a chair, and seated himself near to Mrs. Vansittart
+      with an air of familiarity which the lady seemed rather to invite than to
+      resent. They had, it appeared, many topics in common. Roden had come with
+      the purpose of seeing Mrs. Vansittart, and no one else. Her manner, also,
+      changed as soon as Roden entered the room, and seemed to appeal with a
+      sort of deference to his judgment of all that she said or did. It was a
+      subtle change, and perhaps no one noticed it, though Dorothy, who was
+      exchanging conventional remarks with Von Holzen, glanced across the room
+      once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; Von Holzen was saying in his grave way, with his head bent a little
+      forward, as if the rounded brow were heavy&mdash;&ldquo;ah, but I am only the
+      chemist, Miss Roden. It is your brother who has placed us on our wonderful
+      financial basis. He has a head for finance, your brother, and is quick in
+      his calculations. He understands money, whereas I am only a scientist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke English correctly but slowly, with the Dutch accent, which is
+      slighter and less guttural than the German. Dorothy was interested in him,
+      and continued to talk with him, leaving Cornish standing at a little
+      distance, teacup in hand. Von Holzen was in strong contrast to the two
+      Englishmen. He was graver, more thoughtful, a man of deeper purpose and
+      more solid intellect. There was something dimly Napoleonic in the direct
+      and calculating glance of his eyes, as if he never looked idly at anything
+      or any man. It was he who made a movement after the lapse of a few moments
+      only, as if, having recovered his slight embarrassment, he did not intend
+      to stay longer than the merest etiquette might demand. He crossed the
+      room, and stood before Mrs. Vansittart, with his heels clapped well
+      together, making the most formal conversation, which was only varied by a
+      stiff bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a friendly recollection,&rdquo; he said, preparing to take his leave,
+      &ldquo;of a Charles Vansittart, a student at Leyden, with whom I was brought
+      into contact again in later life. He was, I believe, from Amsterdam, of an
+      English mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Mine is a common name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they bowed to each other in the foreign way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X. DEEPER WATER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Une bonne intention est une échelle trop courte.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had considerable experience in such matters, and I think I may say
+      that the new financial scheme worked out by Mr. Roden and myself is a
+      sound one,&rdquo; Lord Ferriby was saying in his best manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was addressing Major White, Tony Cornish, Von Holzen, and Percy Roden,
+      convened to a meeting in the private <i>salon</i> occupied by the Ferribys
+      at the Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery, at The Hague.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+The <i>salon</i> in question was at the front of the house on the first
+floor, and therefore looked out upon the Toornoifeld, where the trees
+were beginning to show a tender green, under the encouragement of a
+ treacherous April sun. Major White, seated bolt upright in his chair,
+looked with a gentle surprise out of the window. He had so small an
+opinion of his understanding that he usually begged explanatory persons
+to excuse him. &ldquo;No doubt you're quite right, but it's no use trying to
+explain it to <i>me</i>, don't you know,&rdquo; he was in the habit of saying, and
+his attitude said no less at the present moment.
+</pre>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Von Holzen, with his chin in the palm of his hand, watched Lord
+Ferriby's face with a greater attention than that transparent
+physiognomy required. Roden's attention was fully occupied by the
+papers on the table in front of him. He was seated by Lord Ferriby's
+side, ready to prompt or assist, as behoved a merely mechanical
+subordinate. Lord Ferriby, dimly conscious of this mental attitude, had
+spoken Roden's name with considerable patronage, and with the evident
+desire to give every man his due. Cornish, in his quick and superficial
+way, glanced from one face to the other, taking in <i>en passant</i> any
+object in the room that happened to call for a momentary attention. He
+noted the passive and somewhat bovine surprise on White's face, and
+wondered whether it owed its presence thereto astonishment at finding
+himself taking part in a committee meeting or amazement at the
+suggestion that Lord Ferriby should be capable of evolving any scheme,
+financial or otherwise, out of his own brain. The committee thus
+summoned was a fair sample of its kind. Here were a number of men
+ dividing a sense of responsibility among them so impartially that there
+was not nearly enough of it to go round. In a multitude of councilors
+there may be safety, but it is assuredly the councillors only who are
+safe.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The reasons,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;why it is inexpedient to continue
+      in our present position as mere trustees of a charitable fund are too
+      numerous to go into at the present moment. Suffice it to say that there
+      are many such reasons, and that I have satisfied myself of their
+      soundness. Our chief desire is to ameliorate the condition of the
+      malgamite workers. It must assuredly suggest itself to any one of us that
+      the best method of doing this is to make the malgamite workers an
+      independent corporation, bound together by the greatest of ties, a common
+      interest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker paused, and turned to Roden with a triumphant smile, as much
+      as to say, &ldquo;There, beat that if you can.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden could not beat it, so he nodded thoughtfully, and examined the point
+      of his pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, impressively, &ldquo;the greatest common
+      interest is a common purse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As the meeting was too small for applause, Lord Ferriby only allowed
+      sufficient time for this great truth to be assimilated, and then continued&mdash;&ldquo;It
+      is proposed, therefore, that we turn the Malgamite Works into a company,
+      the most numerous shareholders to be the malgamiters themselves. The most
+      numerous shareholders, mark you&mdash;not the heaviest shareholders. These
+      shall be ourselves. We propose to estimate the capital of the company at
+      ten thousand pounds, which, as you know, is, approximately speaking, the
+      amount raised by our appeals on behalf of this great charity. We shall
+      divide this capital into two thousand five-pound shares, allot one share
+      to each malgamite worker&mdash;say five hundred shares&mdash;and retain
+      the rest&mdash;say fifteen hundred shares&mdash;ourselves. Of those
+      fifteen hundred, it is proposed to allot three hundred to each of us. Do I
+      make myself clear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Major White, optimistically polishing his eye-glass with a
+      pocket-handkerchief. &ldquo;Any ass could understand that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Our friend Mr. Roden,&rdquo; continued his lordship, &ldquo;who, I mention in
+passing, is one of the finest financiers with whom I have ever had
+ relationship, is of opinion that this company, having its works in
+Holland, should not be registered as a limited company in England. The
+reasons for holding such an opinion are, briefly, connected with the
+interference of the English law in the management of a limited
+liability company formed for the sole purpose of making money.
+We are not disposed to classify ourselves as such a company. We are not
+disposed to pay the English income tax on money which is intended for
+distribution in charity. Each malgamite worker, with his one share, is
+not, precisely speaking, so much a shareholder as a participator in
+profits. We are not in any sense a limited liability company.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently indicated
+      by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture with
+      portentous gravity and wisdom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to the question of profit and loss,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;I am
+      not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware
+      that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands. It
+      is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any way
+      profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name only, and
+      receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of the Malgamite
+      Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we have administered
+      the fund&mdash;for the sole benefit of the malgamite workers. The profits
+      of these poor men, earned on their own share, may reasonably be considered
+      in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis upon which I propose that
+      we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's careful consideration, and I
+      think we are ready to give our consent to any proposal which has received
+      so marked a benefit. There are, of course, many details which will require
+      discussion&mdash;&mdash;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a few
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah&mdash;yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as
+      much as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had yawned
+      more than once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now as to the past,&rdquo; continued Lord Ferriby. &ldquo;The works have been going
+      for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly satisfactory&mdash;&mdash;Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many deaths?&rdquo; inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deaths? Ah&mdash;among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von
+      Holzen can tell you better than I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen, quietly, &ldquo;there have, of course, been deaths,
+      but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had, as Mr.
+      Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they arrived at
+      The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They certainly looked seedy,&rdquo; admitted Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will, I think, turn rather to the&mdash;eh&mdash;er&mdash;living,&rdquo;
+       said Lord Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly
+      reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of White
+      to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was that
+      charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical facts,
+      if these be discouraging. &ldquo;I have here the result of the three months'
+      work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at the papers with so condescending an air that it was quite
+      evident that, had he been a business man and not a lord, he would have
+      understood them at a glance. There was a short silence while he turned
+      over the closely written sheets with an air of approving interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, as if during those moments he had run his eye up all the
+      column of figures and found them correct, &ldquo;the result, as I say,
+      gentlemen, has been most satisfactory. We have manufactured a malgamite
+      which has been well received by the paper-makers. We have, furthermore,
+      been able to supply at the current rate without any serious loss. We are
+      increasing our plant, and the day is not so far distant when we may, at
+      all events, hope to be self-supporting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby sat up and pulled down his waistcoat, a sure signal that the
+      fountain of his garrulous inspiration was for the moment dried up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With great presence of mind Tony Cornish interposed a question which only
+      Roden could answer, and after the consideration of some statistics, the
+      proceedings terminated. It had been apparent all through that Percy Roden
+      was the only business man of the party. In any question of figures or
+      statistics his colleagues showed plainly that they were at sea. Lord
+      Ferriby had in early life been managed by a thrifty mother, who had in due
+      course married him to a thrifty wife. Tony Cornish's business affairs had
+      been narrowed down to the financial fiasco of a tailor's bill far beyond
+      his facilities. Major White had, in his subaltern days, been despatched
+      from Gibraltar on a business quest into the interior of Spain to buy mules
+      there for his Queen and country. He fell out with a dealer at Ronda, whom
+      he knocked down, and returned to Gibraltar branded as unbusiness-like and
+      hasty, and there his commercial enterprise had terminated. Von Holzen was
+      only a scientist, a fact of which he assured his colleagues repeatedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If plain speaking be a sign of friendship, then women are assuredly
+      capable of higher flights than men. A lifelong friendship between two
+      women usually means that they quarrelled at school, and have retained in
+      later days the privilege of mutual plain speaking. If Jones, who was
+      Tompkins's best man, goes yachting with Tompkins in later days, these two
+      sinners are quite capable of enjoying themselves immensely in the present
+      without raking about among the ashes of the past to seek the reason why
+      Tompkins persisted, in spite of his friends' advice, in making an idiot of
+      himself over that Robinson girl&mdash;Jones standing by all the while with
+      the ring in his waistcoat pocket. Whereas, if the friendship existed
+      between the respective ladies of Jones and Tompkins, their conversation
+      will usually be found to begin with: &ldquo;I always told you, Maria, when we
+      were girls together,&rdquo; or, &ldquo;Well, Jane, when we were at school you never
+      would listen to me.&rdquo; A man's friendship is apparently based upon a
+      knowledge of another's redeeming qualities. A woman's dearest friend is
+      she whose faults will bear the closest investigation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was doubtless owing to these trifling variations in temperament that
+      Joan Ferriby learnt more about The Hague and Percy Roden and Otto von
+      Holzen, and lastly, though not leastly, Mrs. Vansittart, in ten minutes
+      than Tony Cornish could have learnt in a month of patient investigation.
+      The first five of these ten precious minutes were spent in kissing Dorothy
+      Roden, and admiring her hat, and holding her at arm's length, and saying,
+      with conviction, that she was a dear. Then Joan asked why Dorothy had
+      ceased writing, and Dorothy proved that it was Joan who had been in
+      default, and lo! a bridge was thrown across the years, and they were
+      friends once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you mean to tell me,&rdquo; said Joan, as they walked up the Korte Voorhout
+      towards the canal and the Wood, &ldquo;that you don't take any interest in the
+      Malgamite scheme?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;And I am weary of the very word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But then you always were rather&mdash;well, frivolous, weren't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not take lessons as seriously as you, perhaps, if that is what you
+      mean,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Joan, who had come across to Holland full of zeal in well-doing, and
+      as seriously as ever Queen Marguerite sailed to the Holy Land, walked on
+      in silence. The trees were just breaking into leaf, and the air was laden
+      with a subtle odour of spring. The Korte Voorhout is, as many know, a
+      short broad street, spotlessly clean, bordered on either side by quaint
+      and comfortable houses. The traffic is usually limited to one carriage
+      going to the Wood, and on the pavement a few leisurely persons engaged in
+      taking exercise in the sunshine. It was a different atmosphere to that
+      from which Joan had come, more restful, purer perhaps, and certainly
+      healthier, possibly more thoughtful; and charity, above all virtues, to be
+      practiced well must be practiced without too much reflection. He who lets
+      wisdom guide his bounty too closely will end by giving nothing at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At all events,&rdquo; said Joan, &ldquo;it is splendid of Mr. Roden to work so hard
+      in the cause, and to give himself up to it as he does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye&mdash;es.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan turned sharply and looked at her companion. Dorothy Roden's face was
+      not, perhaps, easy to read, especially when she turned, as she turned now,
+      to meet an inquiring glance with an easy smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have known so many of Percy's schemes,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;that you must
+      not expect me to be enthusiastic about this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this must succeed, whatever may have happened to the others,&rdquo; cried
+      Joan. &ldquo;It is such a good cause. Surely nothing can be a better aim than to
+      help such afflicted people, who cannot help themselves, Dorothy! And it is
+      so splendidly organized. Why, Mr. Johnson, the labour expert, you know,
+      who wears no collar and a soft hat, said that it could not have been
+      better organized if it had been a strike. And a Bishop Somebody&mdash;a
+      dear old man with legs like a billiard-table&mdash;said it reminded him of
+      the early Christians' <i>esprit de corps</i>, or something like that.
+      Doesn't sound like a bishop, though, does it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it doesn't,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy, doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So if your brother thinks it will not succeed,&rdquo; said Joan, confidently,
+      &ldquo;he is wrong. Besides&rdquo;&mdash;in a final voice&mdash;&ldquo;he has Tony to help
+      him, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Dorothy, looking straight in front of her, &ldquo;of course he has
+      Mr. Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Tony,&rdquo; pursued Joan, eagerly, &ldquo;always succeeds. There is something
+      about him&mdash;I don't know what it is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy recollected that Mrs. Vansittart had said something like this
+      about Tony Cornish. She had said that he had the power of holding his
+      cards and only playing them at the right moment. Which is perhaps the
+      secret of success in life, namely, to hold one's cards, and, if the right
+      moment does not present itself, never to play them at all, but to hold
+      them to the end of the game, contenting one's self with the knowledge that
+      one has had, after all, the makings of a fine game that might have been
+      worth the playing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are people, you know,&rdquo; Joan broke in earnestly, &ldquo;who think that if
+      they can secure Tony for a picnic the weather will be fine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And does he know it?&rdquo; asked Dorothy, rather shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony?&rdquo; laughed Joan. &ldquo;Of course not. He never thinks about anything like
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI. IN THE OUDE WEG.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le sage entend à demi mot.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The porter of the hotel on the Toornoifeld was enjoying his early
+      cigarette in the doorway, when he was impelled by a natural politeness to
+      stand aside for one of the visitors in the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You promenade yourself thus early?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, cheerily, &ldquo;I promenade myself thus early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have had your coffee?&rdquo; asked the porter. &ldquo;It is not good to go near
+      the canals when one is empty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish lingered a few minutes, and made the man's mind easy on this
+      point. There are many who obtain a vast deal of information without ever
+      asking a question, just as there are some&mdash;and they are mostly women&mdash;who
+      ask many questions and are told many lies. Tony Cornish had a cheery way
+      with him which made other men talk. He was also as quick as a woman. He
+      went about the world picking up information.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The city clocks were striking seven as he walked across the Toornoifeld,
+      where the morning mist still lingered among the trees. The great square
+      was almost deserted. Holland, unlike France, is a lie-abed country, and at
+      an hour when a French town would be astir and its streets already thronged
+      with people hurrying to buy or sell at the greatest possible advantage, a
+      Dutch city is still asleep. Park Straat was almost deserted as Cornish
+      walked briskly down it towards the Willem's Park and Scheveningen. A few
+      street cleaners were leisurely working, a few milkmen were hurrying from
+      door to door, but the houses were barred and silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish walked on the right-hand side of the road, which made it all the
+      easier for Mrs. Vansittart to perceive him from her bedroom window as he
+      passed Oranje Straat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said that lady, and rang the bell for her maid, to whom she
+      explained that she had a sudden desire to take a promenade this fine
+      morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Tony Cornish walked down the Oude Weg under the trees of that great
+      thoroughfare, with Mrs. Vansittart following him leisurely by one of the
+      side paths, which, being elevated above the road enabled her to look down
+      upon the Englishman and keep him in sight. When he came within view of the
+      broad road that cuts the Scheveningen wood in two and leads from the East
+      Dunes to the West&mdash;from the Malgamite Works, in a word, to the
+      cemetery&mdash;he sat down on a bench hidden by the trees. And Mrs.
+      Vansittart, a hundred yards behind him, took possession of a seat as
+      effectually concealed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They remained thus for some time, the object of a passing curiosity to the
+      fish-merchants journeying from Scheveningen to The Hague. Then Tony
+      Cornish seemed to perceive something on the road towards the sea which
+      interested him, and Mrs. Vansittart, rising from her seat, walked down to
+      the main pathway, which commanded an uninterrupted view. That which had
+      attracted Cornish's attention was a funeral, cheap, sordid, and obscure,
+      which moved slowly across the Oude Weg by the road, crossing it at right
+      angles. It was a peculiar funeral, inasmuch as it consisted of three
+      hearses and one mourning carriage. The dead were, therefore, almost as
+      numerous as the living, an unusual feature in civil burials. From the
+      window of the rusty mourning coach there looked a couple of debased
+      countenances, flushed with drink and that special form of excitement which
+      is especially associated with a mourning coach hired on credit and a
+      funeral beyond one's means. Behind these two faces loomed others. There
+      seemed to be six men within the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The procession was not inspiriting, and Cornish's face was momentarily
+      grave as he watched it. When it had passed, he rose and walked slowly back
+      towards The Hague. Before he had gone far, he met Mrs. Vansittart face to
+      face, who rose from a seat as he approached.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, <i>mon ami</i>,&rdquo; she asked, with a short laugh, &ldquo;have you had a
+      pleasant walk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has had a pleasant end, at all events,&rdquo; he replied, meeting her glance
+      with an imperturbable smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She jerked her head upwards with a little foreign gesture of indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is to be presumed,&rdquo; she said, as they walked on side by side, &ldquo;that
+      you have been exploring and investigating our&mdash;byways. Remember, my
+      good Tony, that I live in The Hague, and may therefore be possessed of
+      information that might be useful to you. It will probably be at your
+      disposal when you need it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with daring black eyes, and laughed. A strong man
+      usually takes a sort of pride in his power. This woman enjoyed the same
+      sort of exultation in her own cleverness. She was not wise enough to hide
+      it, which is indeed a grim, negative pleasure usually enjoyed by elderly
+      gentlemen only. Social progress has, moreover, made it almost a crime to
+      hide one's light under a bushel. Are we not told, in so many words, by the
+      interviewer and the personal paragraphist, that it is every man's duty to
+      set his light upon a candlestick, so that his neighbour may at least try
+      to blow it out?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had learnt to know Mrs. Vansittart at a period in her life when,
+      as a young married woman, she regarded all her juniors with a matronly
+      goodwill, none the less active that it was so exceedingly new. She had in
+      those days given much good advice, which Cornish had respectfully heard.
+      Fate had brought them together at the rare moment and in almost the sole
+      circumstances that allow of a friendship being formed between a man and a
+      woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked slowly side by side now under the trees of the Oude Weg,
+      inhaling the fresh morning air, which was scented by a hundred breaths of
+      spring, and felt clean to face and lips. Mrs. Vansittart had no intention
+      of resigning her position of mentor and friend. It was, moreover, one of
+      those positions which will not bear being defined in so many words.
+      Between men and women it often happens that to point out the existence of
+      certain feelings is to destroy them. To say, &ldquo;Be my friend,&rdquo; as often as
+      not makes friendship impossible. Mrs. Vansittart was too clever a woman to
+      run such a risk in dealing with a man in whom she had detected a reserve
+      of which the rest of the world had taken no account. It is unwise to enter
+      into war or friendship without seeing to the reserves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember,&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, suddenly, &ldquo;how wise we were when
+      we were young? What knowledge of the world, what experience of life one
+      has when all life is before one!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; admitted Cornish, guardedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if I preached a great deal, I at all events did you no harm,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Vansittart, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And as to experience, well, one buys that later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and the wise re-sell&mdash;at a profit,&rdquo; laughed Cornish. &ldquo;It is not
+      a commodity that any one cares to keep. If we cannot sell it, we offer it
+      for nothing, to the young.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who accept it, at an even lower valuation; and you and I, Mr. Tony
+      Cornish, are cynics who talk cheap epigrams to hide our thoughts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on for a few yards in silence. Then Tony turned in his quick
+      way and looked at her. He had thin, mobile lips, which expressed
+      friendship and curiosity at this moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are <i>you</i> thinking?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned and looked at him with grave, searching eyes, and when these
+      met his it became apparent that their friendship had re-established
+      itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of your affairs,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and funerals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both lugubrious,&rdquo; suggested Cornish. &ldquo;But I am obliged to you for so far
+      honouring me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off, and again walked on in silence. She glanced at him half
+      angrily, and gave a quick shrug of the shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will not speak,&rdquo; she said, opening her parasol with a snap. &ldquo;So
+      be it. The time has perhaps not come yet. But if I am in the humour when
+      that time does come, you will find that you have no ally so strong as I.
+      Ah, you may stick your chin out and look as innocent as you like! You are
+      not easy in your mind, my good friend, about this precious Malgamite
+      scheme. But I ask no confidences, and, <i>bon Dieu</i>! I give none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a little laugh, and looked at him beneath the shade of
+      her parasol. She had a hundred foreign ways of putting a whole wealth of
+      meaning into a single gesture, into a movement of a parasol or a fan, such
+      as women acquire, and use upon poor defenceless men, who must needs face
+      the world with stolid faces and slow, dumb hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish answered the laugh readily enough. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;then I am
+      accused of uneasiness of mind of preoccupation, in fact. I plead guilty. I
+      made a mistake. I got up too early. It was a fine morning, and I was
+      tempted to take a walk before breakfast, which we have at half-past nine,
+      in a fine old British way. We have toast and a fried sole. Great is the
+      English milord!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were in Park Straat now, in sight of Mrs. Vansittart's house. And
+      that lady knew that her companion was talking in order to say nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We leave this morning,&rdquo; continued Cornish, in the same vein. &ldquo;And we
+      rather flatter ourselves that we have upheld the dignity of our nation in
+      these benighted foreign parts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that poor Lord Ferriby! It is so easy to laugh at him. You think him
+      a fool, although&mdash;or because&mdash;he is your uncle. So do I,
+      perhaps. But I always have a little distrust for the foolishness of a
+      person who has once been a knave. You know your uncle's reputation&mdash;the
+      past one, I mean, not the whitewash. Do not forget it.&rdquo; They had reached
+      the corner of Oranje Straat, and Mrs. Vansittart paused on her own
+      doorstep. &ldquo;So you leave this morning,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Remember that I am in
+      The Hague, and&mdash;well, we were once friends. If I can help you, make
+      use of me. You have been wonderfully discreet, my friend. And I have not.
+      But discretion is not required of a woman. If there is anything to tell
+      you, you shall hear from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her hand, and bade him good-bye with a semi-malicious laugh.
+      Then she stood in the porch, and watched him walk quickly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is Dorothy Roden,&rdquo; she said to herself, with a wise nod. &ldquo;A queer
+      case. One of those at first sight, one may suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Rodens, of whom she thought at the moment, were not only thinking, but
+      speaking of her. They had finished breakfast, and Dorothy was standing at
+      the window looking out over the Dunes towards the sea. Her brother was
+      still seated at the table, and had lighted a cigarette. Like many another
+      who offers an exaggerated respect to women as a whole, he was rather
+      inclined to Bohemianism at home, and denied to his immediate feminine
+      relations the privileges accorded to their sex in general. He was older
+      than Dorothy, who had always been dependent upon him to a certain extent.
+      She had a little money of her own, and quite recognized the fact that,
+      should her brother marry, she would have to work for her living. In the
+      mean time, however, it suited them both to live together, and Dorothy had
+      for her brother that affection of which only women are capable. It amounts
+      to an affectionate tolerance more than to a tolerant affection. For it
+      perceives its object's little failings with a calm and judicial eye. It
+      weighs the man in the balance, and finds him wanting. This, moreover, is
+      the lot of a large proportion of women. This takes the place of that
+      higher feeling which is probably the finest emotion of which the human
+      heart is capable. And yet there are men who grudge these sufferers their
+      petty triumphs, their poor little emancipation, their paltry
+      wrangler-ships, their very bicycles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't like this place&mdash;I know that,&rdquo; Percy Roden was saying, in
+      continuation of a desultory conversation. He looked up from the letters
+      before him with a smile which was kind enough and a little patronizing.
+      Patronage is perhaps the armour of the outwitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not very much,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with a laugh. &ldquo;But I dare say it will
+      be better in the summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean this villa,&rdquo; pursued Roden, flicking the ash from his cigarette
+      and leaning back in his chair. He had grand, rather tired gestures, which
+      possibly impressed some people. Grandeur, however, like sentiment, is not
+      indigenous to the hearth. Our domestic admirers are not always watching
+      us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy was looking out of the window. &ldquo;It is not a bad little place,&rdquo; she
+      said practically, &ldquo;when one has grown accustomed to its sandiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will not be for long,&rdquo; said Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And his sister turned and looked at him with a sudden gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been thinking that it will be better for us to move into The
+      Hague&mdash;Park Straat or Oranje Straat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and faced him now. There was a faint, far-off resemblance
+      between these two, but Dorothy had the better face&mdash;shrewder, more
+      thoughtful, cleverer. Her eyes, instead of being large and dark and rather
+      dreamy, were grey and speculative. Her features were clear-cut and
+      well-cut&mdash;a face suggestive of feeling and of self-suppression,
+      which, when they go together, go to the making of a satisfactory human
+      being. This was a woman who, to put it quite plainly, would scarcely have
+      been held in honour by our grandmothers, but who promised well enough for
+      her possible granddaughters; who, when the fads are lived down and the
+      emancipation is over and the shrieking is done, will make a very excellent
+      grandmother to a race of women who shall be equal to men and respected of
+      men, and, best of all, beloved of men. Wise mothers say that their
+      daughters must sooner or later pass through an awkward age. Woman is
+      passing through an awkward age now, and Dorothy Roden might be classed
+      among those who are doing it gracefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at her brother with those wise grey eyes, and did not speak at
+      once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oranje Straat and Park Straat,&rdquo; she said lightly, &ldquo;cost money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that is all right!&rdquo; answered her brother, carelessly, as one who in
+      his time has handled great sums.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;Then we are prosperous?&rdquo; inquired Dorothy, mindful of other great
+ schemes which had not always done their duty by their originator.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes! We shall make a good thing out of this Malgamite. The labourer is
+      worthy of his hire, you know. There is no reason why we should not take a
+      better house than this. Mrs. Vansittart knows of one in Park Straat which
+      would suit us. Do you like her&mdash;Mrs. Vansittart, I mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His tone was slightly patronizing again. The Malgamite was a success, it
+      appeared, and assuredly success is the most difficult emergency that a man
+      has to face in life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, quietly. She looked hard at her brother;
+      for Dorothy had long ago gauged him, and had recently gauged Mrs.
+      Vansittart with a facility which is quite incomprehensible to men and easy
+      enough to women. She knew that her brother was not the sort of man to
+      arouse the faintest spark of love in the heart of such a woman as her of
+      whom they spoke. And yet Percy's tone implied as clearly as if the words
+      had been spoken that he had merely to offer to Mrs. Vansittart his hand
+      and heart in order to make her the happiest of women. Either Dorothy or
+      her brother was mistaken in Mrs. Vansittart. Between a man and a woman it
+      is usually the man who is mistaken in an estimate of another woman.
+      Dorothy was wondering, not whether Mrs. Vansittart admired her brother,
+      but why that lady was taking the trouble to convey to him that such was
+      the case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII. SUBURBAN
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le bonheur c'est être né joyeux.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      There are in the suburbs of London certain strata of men which lie in
+      circles of diminishing density around the great city, like <i>debris</i>
+      around a volcano. London indeed erupts every evening between the hours of
+      five and six, and throws out showers of tired men, who lie where they fall&mdash;or
+      rather where their season ticket drops them&mdash;until morning, when they
+      arise and crowd back again to the seething crater. The deposits of small
+      clerks and tradespeople fall near at hand in a dense shower, bounded on
+      the north by Finchley, on the south by Streatham. An outer circle of head
+      clerks, Government servants, junior partners, covers the land in a stratum
+      reaching as far south as Surbiton, as far north as the Alexandra Palace.
+      And beyond these limits are cast the brighter lights of commerce, law, and
+      finance, who fall, a thin golden shower, in the favoured neighbourhoods of
+      the far suburbs, where, from eventide till morning, they play at being
+      country gentlemen, talking stock and stable, with minds attuned to share
+      and produce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Joseph Wade, banker, was one of those who are thrown far afield by the
+      facilities of a fine suburban train service. He wore a frock-coat, a very
+      shiny hat, and he read the <i>Times</i> in the train. He lived in a
+      staring red house, solid brick without and solid comfort within, in the
+      favoured pine country of Weybridge. He was one of those pillars of the
+      British Constitution who are laughed at behind their backs and eminently
+      respected to their faces. His gardeners trembled before him, his coachman,
+      as stout and respectable as himself, knew him to be a just and a good
+      master, who grudged no man his perquisites, and behaved with a fine
+      gentlemanly tact at those trying moments when the departing visitor is
+      desirous of tipping and the coachman knows that it is blessed to receive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade rather scorned the amateur country-gentleman hobby which so many
+      of his travelling companions affected. It led them to don rough tweed
+      suits on Sunday, and walk about their paddocks and gardens as if these
+      formed a great estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a banker,&rdquo; he said, with that sound common sense which led him to
+      avoid those cheap affectations of superiority that belong to the outer
+      strata of the daily volcanic deposit&mdash;&ldquo;I am a banker, and I am
+      content to be a banker in the evening and on Sundays, as well as during
+      bank-hours. What should I know about horses or Alderneys or Dorking fowls?
+      None of 'em yield a dividend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade, in fact, looked upon &ldquo;The Brambles&rdquo; as a place of rest, arriving
+      there at half-past six, in time to dress for a very good dinner. After
+      dinner he read in a small way by no means to be despised. He had a taste
+      for biography, and cherished in his stout heart a fine old respect for
+      Thackeray and Dickens and Walter Scott. Of the modern fictionists he knew
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me they are splitting straws, my dear,&rdquo; he once said to an
+      earnest young person who thought that literature meant contemporary
+      fiction, whereas we all know that the two are in no way connected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joseph Wade was a widower, having some years before buried a wife as stout
+      and sensible as himself. He never spoke of her except to his daughter
+      Marguerite, now leaving school, and usually confined his remarks to a
+      consideration of what Marguerite's mother would have liked in the
+      circumstances under discussion at the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had been educated at Cheltenham, and &ldquo;finished&rdquo; at Dresden,
+      without any limit as to extras. She had come home from Dresden a few
+      months before the Malgamite scheme was set on foot, to find herself
+      regarded by her father in the light of a rather delicate financial crisis.
+      The affection which had always existed between father and daughter soon
+      developed into something stronger&mdash;something volatile and half
+      mocking on her part, indulgent and half mystified on his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is rather a handful,&rdquo; wrote Mr. Wade to Tony Cornish, &ldquo;and too
+      inconsequent to let my mind be easy about her future. I wish you would run
+      down and dine and sleep at 'The Brambles' some evening soon. Monday is
+      Marguerite's eighteenth birthday. Will you come on that evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not thirty-three yet,&rdquo; reflected Mr. Wade, as he folded the letter
+      and slipped it into an envelope, &ldquo;and she is the sort of girl who must be
+      able to give a man her full respect before she can give him&mdash;er&mdash;anything
+      else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From which it may be perceived that the astute banker was preparing to
+      face the delicate financial crisis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish received the invitation the day after returning from Holland. Mr.
+      Wade had been his father's friend and trustee, and was, he understood,
+      distantly related to the mother whom Tony had never known. Such
+      invitations were not infrequent, and it was the recipient's custom to set
+      aside others in order to reply with an acceptance. A friendship had sprung
+      up between two men who were not only divided by a gulf of years, but had
+      hardly a thought in common.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On arriving at Weybridge station, Cornish found Marguerite awaiting his
+      arrival in a very high dog-cart drawn by an exceedingly shiny cob, which
+      animal she proceeded to handle with vast spirit and a blithe ignorance.
+      She looked trim and fresh, with bright brown hair under a smart sailor
+      hat, and a complexion almost dazzling in its youthfulness and brilliancy.
+      She nodded gaily at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hop up,&rdquo; she said encouragingly, &ldquo;and then hang on like grim death. There
+      are going to be&mdash;whoa, my pet!&mdash;er&mdash;ructions. All right,
+      William. Let go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      William let go, and made a dash at the rear step. The shiny cob squeaked,
+      stood thoughtfully on his hind legs for a moment, and then dashed across
+      the bridge, shaving a cab rather closely, and failing to observe a bank of
+      stones at one side of the road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mind this sort of thing?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, as they bumped
+      heavily over the obstruction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in the least. Most invigorating, I consider it.&rdquo; Marguerite arranged
+      the reins carefully, and inclined the whip at a suitable angle across her
+      companion's vision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm learning to drive, you know,&rdquo; she said, leaning confidently down from
+      her high seat. &ldquo;And papa thinks that because this young gentleman is
+      rather stout he is quiet, which is quite a mistake. Whoa! Steady! Keep off
+      the grass! Visitors are requested to keep to&mdash;Well, I'm&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      hauled the pony off the common, whither he had betaken himself, on to the
+      road again&mdash;&ldquo;blowed,&rdquo; she added, religiously completing her
+      unfinished sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were now between high fences, and compelled to progress more
+      steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad you have come, you know,&rdquo; Marguerite took the opportunity
+      of assuring the visitor. &ldquo;It is jolly slow, I can tell you, at times; and
+      then you will do papa good. He is very difficult to manage. It took me a
+      week to get this pony out of him. His great idea is for somebody to marry
+      me. He looks upon me as a sort of fund that has to be placed or sunk or
+      something, somewhere. There was a young Scotchman here the week before
+      last. I have forgotten his name already. John&mdash;something&mdash;Fairly.
+      Yes, that is it&mdash;John Fairly, of Auchen-something. It is better to be
+      John Fairly, of Auchen-something, than a belted earl, it appears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did John tell you so himself?&rdquo; inquired Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; and he ought to know, oughtn't he? But that was what put me on my
+      guard. When a Scotchman begins to tell you who he is, take my advice and
+      sheer off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; said Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when a Scotchman begins to tell you what he has, you may be sure that
+      he wants something more. I smelt a rat at once. And I would not speak to
+      him for the rest of the evening, or if I did, I spoke with a Scotch accent&mdash;just
+      a suspeecion of an accent, you know&mdash;nothing to get hold of, but just
+      enough to let him know that his Auchen-something would not go down with
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke with a sort of inconsequent earnestness, a relic of the
+      school-days she had so lately left behind. She did not seem to have had
+      time to decide yet whether life was a rattling farce or a matter of deadly
+      earnest. And who shall blame her, remembering that older heads than hers
+      are no clearer on that point?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On approaching the red villa by its short entrance drive of yellow gravel,
+      they perceived Mr. Wade slowly walking in his garden. The garden of &ldquo;The
+      Brambles&rdquo; was exactly the sort of garden one would expect to find attached
+      to a house of that name. It was chiefly conspicuous for its lack of
+      brambles, or indeed of any vegetable of such disorderly habit. Yellow
+      gravel walks intersected smooth lawns. April having drawn almost to its
+      close, there were thin red lines of tulips standing at attention all along
+      the flowery borders. Not a stalk was out of place. One suspected that the
+      flowers had been drilled by a martinet of a gardener. The sight of an
+      honest weed would have been a relief to the eye. The curse of too much
+      gardener and too little nature lay over the land.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, holding out a large white hand. &ldquo;You perceive me
+      inspecting the garden, and if you glance in the direction of McPherson's
+      cottage you will perceive McPherson watching me. I pay him a hundred and
+      twenty and he knows that it is too much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way, papa,&rdquo; put in Marguerite, gravely, &ldquo;will you tell McPherson
+      that he will receive a month's notice if he counts the peaches this
+      summer, as he did last year?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade laughed, and promised her a freer hand in this matter. They
+      walked in the trim garden until it was time to dress for dinner, and
+      Cornish saw enough to convince him that Mr. Wade was fully occupied
+      between banking hours in his capacity as Marguerite's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That young lady came down as the bell rang, in a white dress as fresh and
+      girlish as herself, and during the meal, which was long and somewhat
+      solemn, entertained the guest with considerable liveliness. It was only
+      after she had left them to their wine, over which the banker loved to
+      linger in the old-fashioned way that Mr. Wade put on his grave financial
+      air. He fingered his glass thoughtfully, as if choosing, not a subject of
+      conversation, but a suitable way of approaching a premeditated question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not recollect your mother?&rdquo; he said suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; she died when I was two years old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade nodded, and slowly sipped his port. &ldquo;Queer thing is,&rdquo; he said,
+      after a pause and looking towards the door, &ldquo;that that child is
+      startlingly like what your mother used to be at the age of eighteen, when
+      I first knew her. Perhaps it is only my imagination&mdash;not that I have
+      much of that. Perhaps all girls are alike at that age&mdash;a sort of
+      freshness and an optimism that positively take one's breath away. At any
+      rate, she reminds me of your mother.&rdquo; He broke off, and looked at Cornish
+      with his slow and rather ponderous smile. His attitude towards the world
+      was indeed one of conscious ponderosity. He did not attempt to understand
+      the lighter side of life, but took it seriously as a work-a-day matter. &ldquo;I
+      was once in love with your mother,&rdquo; he stated squarely. &ldquo;But circumstances
+      were against us. You see, your father was a lord's younger brother, and
+      that made a great difference in Clapham in those days. I felt it a good
+      deal at the time, but I of course got over it years and years ago. No
+      sentiment about me, Tony. Sentiment and seventeen stone won't balance, you
+      know.&rdquo; The great man slowly drew the decanter towards him. &ldquo;She got a
+      better husband in your father&mdash;a clever, bright chap&mdash;and I was
+      best man, I recollect. It was about that time&mdash;about your age I was&mdash;that
+      I took seriously to my work. Before, I had been a little wild. And that
+      interest has lasted me right up to the present time. Take my word for it,
+      Tony, the greatest interest in life would be money-making&mdash;if one
+      only knew what to do with the money afterwards.&rdquo; The banker had been
+      eating a biscuit, and he now swept the crumbs together with his little
+      finger from all sides in a lessening circle until they formed a heap upon
+      the white tablecloth. &ldquo;It accumulates,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;accumulates,
+      accumulates. And, after all, one can only eat and drink the best that are
+      to be obtained, and the best costs so little&mdash;a mere drop in the
+      ocean.&rdquo; He handed Tony the decanter as he spoke. &ldquo;Then I married
+      Marguerite's mother, some years afterwards, when I was a middle-aged man.
+      She was the only daughter of&mdash;the bank, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And that seemed to be all that there was to be said about Marguerite's
+      mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish nodded in his quick, sympathetic way. Mr. Wade had told him
+      none of this before, but it was to be presumed that he had heard at least
+      part of it from other sources. His manner now indicated that he was
+      interested, but he did not ask his companion to say one word more than he
+      felt disposed to utter. It is probable that he knew these to be no idle
+      after-dinner words, spoken without premeditation, out of a full heart; for
+      Mr. Wade was not, as he had boasted, a person of sentiment, but a plain,
+      straightforward business man, who, if he had no meaning to convey, said
+      nothing. And in this respect it is a pity that more are not like him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have always been pretty good friends, you and I,&rdquo; continued the
+      banker, &ldquo;though I know I am not exactly your sort. I am distinctly City;
+      you are as distinctly West End. But during your minority, and when we
+      settled up accounts on your coming of age, and since then, we have always
+      hit it off pretty well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish, moving his feet impatiently under the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no mistaking the aim of all this, and Mr. Wade was too British
+      in his habits to beat about the bush much longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not mind telling you that I have got you down in my will,&rdquo; said the
+      banker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish bit his lip and frowned at his wine-glass. And it is possible that
+      the man of no sentiment understood his silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have frequently disbelieved what I have heard of you,&rdquo; went on the
+      elder man. &ldquo;You have, doubtless, enemies&mdash;as all men have&mdash;and
+      you have been a trifle reckless, perhaps, of what the world might say. If
+      you will allow me to say so, I think none the worse of you for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade pushed the decanter across the table, and when Cornish had filled
+      his glass, drew it back towards himself. It is wonderful what resource
+      there is in half a glass of wine, if merely to examine it when it is hard
+      to look elsewhere.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember, six months ago, I spoke to you of a personal matter,&rdquo; said
+      the banker. &ldquo;I asked you if you had thoughts of marrying, and suggested
+      something in the nature of a partnership if that would facilitate your
+      plans in any way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not the sort of offer one is likely to forget,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I asked you if&mdash;well, if it was Joan Ferriby.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And I answered that it was not Joan Ferriby. That was mere gossip,
+      of which we are both aware, and for which neither of us cares a pin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it comes to this,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, drawing lines on the tablecloth
+      with his dessert knife as if it were a balance-sheet, and he was casting
+      the final totals there. &ldquo;You are a man of the world; you are clever; you
+      are like your father before you, in that you have something that women
+      care about. Heaven only knows what it is, for I don't!&rdquo; He paused, and
+      looked at his companion as if seeking that intangible something. Then he
+      jerked his head towards the drawing-room, where Marguerite could be dimly
+      heard playing an air from the latest comic opera with a fine contempt for
+      accidentals. &ldquo;That child,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;knows no more about life than a
+      sparrow. A man like myself&mdash;seventeen stone&mdash;may have to balance
+      his books at any moment. You have a clear field; for you may take my word
+      for it that you will be the first in it. My own experience of life has
+      been mostly financial, but I am pretty certain that the first man a woman
+      cares for is the man she cares for all along, though she may never see him
+      again. I don't hold it out as an inducement, but there is no reason why
+      you should not know that she will have a hundred and fifty thousand pounds&mdash;not
+      when I am dead, but on the day she marries.&rdquo; Mr. Wade paused, and took a
+      sip of his most excellent port. &ldquo;Do not hurry,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Take your time.
+      Think about it carefully&mdash;unless you have already thought about it,
+      and can say yes or no now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade bent forward heavily, with one arm on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Which is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no,&rdquo; answered Cornish, simply. The banker passed his table-napkin
+      across his lips, paused for a moment, and then rose with, as was his
+      hospitable custom, his hand upon the sherry decanter. &ldquo;Then let us go into
+      the drawing-room,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Heureux celui qui n'est forcée de sacrifier personne à son
+     devoir.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; said Marguerite the next morning, as she and Cornish rode
+      quietly along the sandy roads, beneath the shade of the pines&mdash;&ldquo;you
+      know, papa is such a jolly, simple old dear&mdash;he doesn't understand
+      women in the least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you call yourself a woman nowadays?&rdquo; inquired Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet. Bet those grey hairs of yours if you like. I see them! All down
+      one side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are all down both sides and on the top as well&mdash;my good&mdash;woman.
+      How does your father fail to understand you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to begin with, he thinks it necessary to have Miss Williams, to
+      housekeep and chaperon, and to do oddments generally&mdash;as if I
+      couldn't run the show myself. You haven't seen Miss Williams&mdash;oh,
+      crikey! She has gone to Cheltenham for a holiday, for which you may thank
+      your eternal stars. She is just the sort of person who <i>would</i> go to
+      Cheltenham. Then papa is desperately keen about my marrying. He keeps
+      trotting likely <i>partis</i> down here to dine and sleep&mdash;that's why
+      you are here, I haven't a shadow of a doubt. None of the <i>partis</i>
+      have passed muster yet. Poor old thing, he thinks I do not see through his
+      little schemes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed, and glanced at Marguerite under the shade of his straw
+      hat, wondering, as men have probably wondered since the ages began, how it
+      is that women seem to begin life with as great a knowledge of the world as
+      we manage to acquire towards the end of our experience. Marguerite made
+      her statements with a certain careless <i>aplomb</i>, and these were
+      usually within measurable distance of the fact, whereas a youth her age
+      and ten years older, if he be of a didactic turn, will hold forth upon
+      life and human nature with an ignorance of both which is positively
+      appalling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, I don't want to marry,&rdquo; said Marguerite, suddenly returning to her
+      younger and more earnest manner. &ldquo;What is the good of marrying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, indeed,&rdquo; echoed Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, if papa tackles you&mdash;about me, I mean&mdash;when he has
+      done the <i>Times</i>&mdash;he won't say anything before, the <i>Times</i>
+      being the first object in papa's existence, and yours very truly the
+      second&mdash;just you choke him off&mdash;won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promise?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Promise faithfully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right. Now tell me&mdash;is my hat on one side?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish assured her that her hat was straight, and then they talked of
+      other things, until they came to a ditch suitable for some jumping
+      lessons, which he had promised to give her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was bewilderingly changeable, at one moment childlike, and in the next
+      very wise&mdash;now a heedless girl, and a moment later a keen woman of
+      the world&mdash;appearing to know more of that abode of evil than she well
+      could. Her colour came and went&mdash;her very eyes seemed to change.
+      Cornish thought of this open field which Marguerite's father had offered,
+      and perhaps he thought of the hundred and fifty thousand pounds that lay
+      beneath so bright a surface.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On returning to &ldquo;The Brambles,&rdquo; they found Mr. Wade reading the <i>Times</i>
+      in the glass-covered veranda of that eligible suburban mansion. It being a
+      Saturday, the great banker was taking a holiday, and Cornish had arranged
+      not to return to town until midday.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come here,&rdquo; shouted Mr. Wade, &ldquo;and have a cigar while you read the
+      paper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And remember,&rdquo; added Marguerite, slim and girlish in her riding-habit;
+      &ldquo;choke him off!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood on the door-step, looking over her shoulder, and nodded at
+      Cornish, her fresh lips tilted at the corner by a smile full of gaiety and
+      mysticism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Wade was always grave&mdash;was clad in gravity and a frock-coat
+      all his waking moments&mdash;and Cornish took up the newspaper carelessly.
+      He stretched out his legs and lighted a cigar. Then he leisurely turned to
+      the column indicated by his companion. It was headed, &ldquo;Crisis in the Paper
+      Trade: the Malgamite Corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Tony Cornish did not raise his eyes from the printed sheet for a full
+      ten minutes. When at length he looked up, he found Mr. Wade watching him,
+      placid and patient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't make head or tail of it,&rdquo; he said, with a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make both head and tail of it for you,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, who in his
+      own world had a certain reputation for plain speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was even said that this stout banker could tell a man to his face that
+      he was a scoundrel with a cooler nerve than any in Lombard Street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has occurred,&rdquo; he said, slowly folding the advertisement sheet of
+      the <i>Times</i>, &ldquo;is only what has been foreseen for a long time. The
+      world has been degenerating into a maudlin state of sentiment for some
+      years. The East End began it; a thousand sentimental charities have
+      fostered the movement. Now, I am a plain man&mdash;a City man, Tony, to
+      the tips of my toes.&rdquo; And he stuck out a large square-toed foot and looked
+      contemplatively at it. &ldquo;Half of your precious charities&mdash;the
+      societies that you and Joan Ferriby, and, if you will allow me to say so,
+      that ass Ferriby, are mixed up in&mdash;are not fraudulent, but they are
+      pretty near it. Some people who have no right to it are putting other
+      people's money into their pockets. It is the money of fools&mdash;a fool
+      and his money are soon parted, you know&mdash;but that does not make
+      matters any better. The fools do not always part with their money for the
+      right reason; but that also is of small importance. It is not our business
+      if some of them do it because they like to see their names printed under
+      the names of the royal and the great&mdash;if others do it for the mere
+      satisfaction of being life&mdash;governors of this and that institution&mdash;if
+      others, again, head the county lists because they represent a part of that
+      county in Parliament&mdash;if the large majority give of their surplus to
+      charities because they are dimly aware that they are no better than they
+      should be, and wish to take shares in a concern that will pay a dividend
+      in the hereafter. They know that they cannot take their money out of this
+      world with them, so they think they had better invest some of it in what
+      they vaguely understand to be a great limited company, with the bishops on
+      the board and&mdash;I say it with all reverence&mdash;the Almighty in the
+      chair. I would not say this to the first-comer because it would not be
+      well received, and it is not fashionable to treat Charity from a
+      common-sense point of view. It is fashionable to send a cheque to this and
+      that charity&mdash;feeling that it is charity, and therefore will be all
+      right, and that the cheque will be duly placed on the credit side of the
+      drawer's account in the heavenly books, however it may be foolishly spent
+      or fraudulently appropriated by the payee on earth. Half a dozen of the
+      fashionable charities are rotten, but we have not had a thorough-going
+      swindle up to this time. We have been waiting for it ... in Lombard
+      Street. It is there....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused, and tapped the printed column of the <i>Times</i> with a fat
+      and inexorable forefinger. He was, it must be remembered, a mere banker&mdash;a
+      person in the City, where honesty is esteemed above the finer qualities of
+      charity and beneficence, where soul and sentiment are so little known that
+      he who of his charity giveth away another's money is held accountable for
+      his manner of spending it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is there, ... and you have the honour of being mixed up in it,&rdquo; said
+      Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish took up the paper, and looked at the printed words with a vague
+      surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no knowing,&rdquo; went on the banker, &ldquo;how the world will take it. It
+      is one of our greatest financial difficulties that there is never any
+      knowing how the world will take anything. Of course, we in the City are
+      plain-going men, who have no handles to our names and no time for the
+      fashionable fads. We are only respectable, and we cannot afford to be
+      mixed up in such a scheme as your malgamite business.&rdquo; Mr. Wade glanced at
+      Cornish and paused a moment. He was a stolid Englishman, who had received
+      punishment in his time, and could hit hard when he deemed that hard
+      hitting was merciful. &ldquo;It has only been a question of time. The credulity
+      of the public is such that, sooner or later, a bogus charity must
+      assuredly have followed in the wake of the thousand bogus companies that
+      exist to-day. I only wonder that it has not come sooner. You and Ferriby
+      and, of course, the women have been swindled, my dear Tony&mdash;that is
+      the head and the tail of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish laughed gaily. &ldquo;I dare say we have,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;But I will be
+      hanged if I see what it all means, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It may mean ruin to those who have anything to lose,&rdquo; explained Mr. Wade,
+      calmly. &ldquo;The whole thing has been cleverly planned&mdash;one of the
+      cleverest things of recent years, and the man who thought it out had the
+      makings of a great financier in him. What he wanted to do was to get the
+      malgamite industry into his own hands. If he had formed a company and gone
+      about it in a straightforward manner, the paper-makers of the whole world
+      would have risen like one man and smashed him. Instead of that, he moved
+      with the times, and ran the thing as a charity&mdash;a fashionable
+      amusement, in fact. The malgamite industry is neither better nor worse
+      than the other dangerous trades, and no man need go into it unless he
+      likes. But the man who started this thing&mdash;whoever he may be&mdash;supplied
+      that picturesqueness without which the public cannot be moved&mdash;and
+      lo! We have an army of martyrs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade paused and jerked the ash from his cigar. He glanced at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one suspected that there was anything wrong. It was plausibly put
+      forth, and Ferriby ... did his best for it. Then the money began to come
+      in, and once money begins to come in for a popular charity the difficulty
+      is to stop it. I suppose it is still coming in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish. &ldquo;It is still coming in, and nobody is trying to stop
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade laughed in his throat, as fat men do. &ldquo;And,&rdquo; he cried, sitting
+      upright and banging his heavy fist down on the arm of his chair&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      there are millions in your malgamite works at the Hague&mdash;millions. If
+      it were only honest it would be the finest monopoly the world has ever
+      seen&mdash;for two years, but no longer. At the end of that period the
+      paper-makers will have had time to combine and make their own stuff&mdash;then
+      they'll smash you. But during those two years all the makers in the world
+      will have to buy your malgamite at the price you chose to put upon it.
+      They have their forward contracts to fulfil&mdash;government contracts,
+      Indian contracts, newspaper contracts. Thousands and thousands of tons of
+      paper will have to be manufactured at a loss every week during the next
+      two years, or they'll have to shut up their mills. Now do you see where
+      you are?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;I see where I am, now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His face was drawn and his eyes hard, like those of a man facing ruin. And
+      that which was written on his face was an old story, so old that some may
+      not think it worth the telling; for he had found out (as all who are
+      fortunate will, sooner or later, discover) that success or failure, riches
+      or poverty, greatness or obscurity, are but small things in a man's life.
+      Mr. Wade looked at his companion with a sort of wonder in his shrewd old
+      face. He had seen ruined men before now&mdash;he had seen criminals
+      convicted of their wrong-doing&mdash;he had seen old and young in
+      adversity, and, what is more dangerous still, in prosperity&mdash;but he
+      had never seen a young face grow old in the twinkling of an eye. The
+      banker was only thinking of this matter as a financial crisis, in which
+      his great skill made him take a master's delight. There must inevitably
+      come a great crash, and Mr. Wade's interest was aroused. Cornish was
+      realizing that the crash would of a certainty fall between himself and
+      Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This thing,&rdquo; continued the banker, judicially, &ldquo;has not evolved itself.
+      It is not the result of a singular chain of circumstances. It is the
+      deliberate and careful work of one man's brain. This sort of speculative
+      gambling comes to us from America. It was in America that the first cotton
+      corner was conceived. That is what the paper means when it plainly calls
+      it the malgamite corner. Now, what I want to know is this&mdash;who has
+      worked this thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Percy Roden,&rdquo; answered Cornish, thoughtfully. &ldquo;It is Roden's corner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then Roden's a clever fellow,&rdquo; said the great financier. &ldquo;The sort of man
+      who will die a millionaire or a felon&mdash;there is no medium for that
+      sort. He has conducted the thing with consummate skill&mdash;has not made
+      a mistake yet. For I have watched him. He began well, by saying just
+      enough and not too much. He went abroad, but not too far abroad. He
+      avoided a suspicious remoteness. Then he bided his time with a fine
+      patience, and at the right moment converted it quietly into a company&mdash;with
+      a capital subscribed by the charitable&mdash;a splendid piece of audacity.
+      I saw the announcement in the newspaper, neatly worded, and issued at the
+      precise moment when the public interest was beginning to wane, and before
+      the thing was forgotten. People read it, and having found a new plaything&mdash;bicycles,
+      I suppose&mdash;did not care two pins what became of the malgamite scheme,
+      and yet they were not left in a position to be able to say that they had
+      never heard that the thing had been turned into a company.&rdquo; The banker
+      rubbed his large soft hands together with a grim appreciation of this
+      misapplied skill, which so few could recognize at its full value.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; he continued, in his deliberate, practical way, as if in the course
+      of his experience he had never yet met a difficulty which could not be
+      overcome, &ldquo;it is more our concern to think about the future. The
+      difficulty you are in would be bad enough in itself&mdash;it is made a
+      hundred times worse by the fact that you have a man like Roden, with all
+      the trumps in his hand, waiting for you to throw the first card. Of
+      course, I know no details yet, but I soon shall. What seems complicated to
+      you may appear simple enough to me. I am going to stand by you&mdash;understand
+      that, Tony. Through thick and thin. But I am going to stand behind you. I
+      can hit harder from there. And this is just one of those affairs with
+      which my name must not be associated. So far as I can judge at present,
+      there seems to be only one course open to you, and that is to abandon the
+      whole affair as quietly and expeditiously as possible, to drop malgamite
+      and the hope of benefiting the malgamite workers once and for all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony was looking at his watch. It was, it appeared, time for him to go if
+      he wanted to catch his train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said, rising; &ldquo;I will be d&mdash;&mdash;d if I do that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade looked at him curiously, as one may look at a sleeper who for no
+      apparent reason suddenly wakes and stretches himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said slowly, and that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV. UNSOUND.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Be wiser than other people if you can; but do not tell them
+     so.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      If Major White was not a man of quick comprehension, he was, at all
+      events, honest in his density. He never said that he understood when he
+      did not do so. When he received a telegram in barracks at Dover to come up
+      to London the next day and meet Cornish at his club at one o'clock, the
+      major merely said that he was in a state of condemnation, and fixing his
+      glass very carefully into his more surprised eye, studied the thin pink
+      paper as if it were a unique and interesting proof of the advance of the
+      human race. In truth, Major White never sent telegrams, and rarely
+      received them. He blew out his cheeks and said a second time that he was
+      damned. Then he threw the telegram into a waste-paper basket, which was
+      rarely put to so legitimate a use; for the major never wrote letters if he
+      could help it, and received so few that they hardly kept him supplied in
+      pipe-lights.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He apparently had no intention of replying to Cornish's telegram, arguing
+      very philosophically in his mind that he would go if he could, and if he
+      could not, it would not matter very much. A method of contemplating life,
+      as a picture with a perspective to it, which may be highly recommended to
+      fussy people who herald their paltry little comings and goings by a number
+      of unnecessary communications.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without, therefore, attempting a surmise as to the meaning of this
+      summons, White took a morning train to London, and solemnly reported
+      himself to the hall porter of a club in St. James's Street as the
+      well-dressed throng was leisurely returning from church.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish told me to come and have lunch with him,&rdquo; he said, in his
+      usual bald style, leaving explanations and superfluous questions to such
+      as had time for luxuries of that description.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was taken charge of by a button-boy, whose head reached the major's
+      lowest waistcoat button, was deprived of his hat and stick, and
+      practically commanded to wash his hands, to all of which he submitted
+      under stolid and silent protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he was led upstairs, refusing absolutely to hurry, although urged
+      most strongly thereto by the boy's example and manner of pausing a few
+      steps higher up and looking back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the major, when he had heard Cornish's story across the table,
+      and during the consumption of a perfectly astonishing luncheon&mdash;&ldquo;yes;
+      half the trouble in this world comes from the incapacity of the ordinary
+      human being to mind his own business.&rdquo; He operated on a creaming Camembert
+      cheese with much thoughtfulness, and then spoke again. &ldquo;I should like you
+      to tell me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what a couple of idiots like us have to do with
+      these confounded malgamiters. We do not know anything about industry or
+      workmen&mdash;or work, so far as that goes&rdquo;&mdash;he paused and looked
+      severely across the table&mdash;&ldquo;especially you,&rdquo; he added.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Which was strictly true; for Tony Cornish was and always had been a
+      graceful idler. He was one of those unfortunate men who possess
+      influential relatives, than which there are few heavier handicaps in that
+      game of life, where if there be any real scoring to be done, it must be
+      compassed off one's own bat. To follow out the same inexpensive simile,
+      influential relatives may get a man into a crack club, but they cannot
+      elect him to the first eleven. So Tony Cornish, who had never done
+      anything, but had waited vaguely for something to turn up that might be
+      worth his while to seize, had no answer ready, and only laughed gaily in
+      his friend's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first thing we must do,&rdquo; he said, very wisely leaving the past to
+      take care of itself, &ldquo;is to get old Ferriby out of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cos he is a lord?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Partly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cos he is an ass?&rdquo; suggested White, as a plausible alternative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Partly; but chiefly because he is not the sort of man we want if there is
+      going to be a fight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A momentary light gleamed in the major's eye, but it immediately gave
+      place to a placid interest in the Camembert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If there is going to be a fight,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I'm on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In which trivial remark the major explained his whole life and mental
+      attitude. And if the world only listened, instead of thinking what effect
+      it is creating and what it is going to say next, it would catch men thus
+      giving themselves away in their daily talk from morning till night. For
+      Major White had always been &ldquo;on&rdquo; when there was fighting. By dint of
+      exchanging and volunteering and asking, and generally bothering people in
+      a thick-skinned, dull way, he always managed to get to the front, where
+      his competitors&mdash;the handful of modern knights-errant who mean to
+      make a career in the army, and inevitably succeed&mdash;were not afraid of
+      him, and laughingly liked him. And the barrack-room balladists had
+      discovered that White rhymes with Fight. And lo! Another man had made a
+      name for himself in a world that is already too full of names, so that in
+      the paths of Fame the great must necessarily fall against each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon, in the smaller smoking-room, where they were alone,
+      Cornish explained the situation at greater length to Major White, who did
+      not even pretend to understand it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All I can make of it is that that loose-shouldered chap Roden is a
+      scoundrel,&rdquo; he said bluntly, from behind a great cigar, &ldquo;and wants
+      thumping. Now, if there's anything in that line&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but you must not tell him so,&rdquo; interrupted Cornish. &ldquo;I wish to
+      goodness I could make you understand that cunning can only be met by
+      cunning, not by thumps, in these degenerate days. Old Wade has taken us by
+      the hand, as I tell you. They come to town, by the way, to-morrow, and
+      will be in Eaton Square for the rest of the season. He says that it is his
+      business to meet the low cunning of the small solicitors and the noble
+      army of company promoters, and it seems that he knows exactly what to do.
+      At any rate, it is not expedient to thump Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White shrugged his shoulders with much silent wisdom. He believed,
+      it appeared, in thumps in face of any evidence in favour of milder
+      methods.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deuced sorry for that girl,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was lighting a cigarette. &ldquo;What girl?&rdquo; he asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Roden, chap's sister. She knows her brother is a dark horse, but she
+      wouldn't admit it, not if you were to kill her for it. Women&rdquo;&mdash;the
+      major paused in his great wisdom&mdash;&ldquo;women are a rum lot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which, assuredly, no one is prepared to deny.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish glanced at his companion through the cigarette smoke, and said
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; continued the major, &ldquo;I am at your service. Let us have the
+      orders.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;is Monday, and therefore the Ferribys will
+      be at home. You and I are to go to Cambridge Terrace about four o'clock to
+      see my uncle. We will scare him out of the Malgamite business. Then we
+      will go upstairs and settle matters with Joan. Wade and Marguerite will
+      drop in about half-past four. Joan and Marguerite see a good deal of each
+      other, you know. If we have any difficulty with my uncle, Wade will give
+      him the <i>coup de grâce</i>, you understand. His word will have more
+      weight than ours We shall then settle on a plan of campaign, and clear out
+      of my aunt's drawing-room before the crowd comes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will do the talking,&rdquo; stipulated Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes; I will do the talking. And now I must be off. I have a lot of
+      calls to pay, and it is getting late. You will find me here to-morrow
+      afternoon at a quarter to four.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Major White took his departure, to appear again the next day in
+      good time, placid and debonair&mdash;as he had appeared when called upon
+      in various parts of the world, where things were stirring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They took a hansom, for the afternoon was showery, and drove through the
+      crowded streets. Even Cambridge Terrace, usually a quiet thoroughfare, was
+      astir with traffic, for it was the height of the season and a levee day.
+      As the cab swung round into Cambridge Terrace, White suddenly pushed his
+      stick up through the trap-door in the roof of the vehicle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ninety-nine,&rdquo; he shouted to the driver in his great voice. &ldquo;Not nine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he threw himself back against the dingy blue cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned and looked at him in surprise. &ldquo;Gone off your head?&rdquo; he
+      inquired. &ldquo;It is nine&mdash;you know that well enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered White, &ldquo;I know that, my good soul; but you could not see
+      the door as I could when we came round the corner. Roden and Von Holzen
+      are on the steps, coming out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Roden and Von Holzen in England?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not only in England,&rdquo; said White, placidly, &ldquo;but in Cambridge Terrace.
+      And &ldquo;&mdash;he paused, seeking a suitable remark among his small selection
+      of conversational remnants&mdash;&ldquo;and the fat is in the fire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cab had now stopped at the door of number ninety-nine. And if Roden or
+      Von Holzen, walking leisurely down Cambridge Terrace, had turned during
+      the next few moments, they would have seen a stationary hansom cab, with a
+      large round face&mdash;mildly surprised, like a pink harvest moon&mdash;rising
+      cautiously over the roof of it, watching them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the coast was clear, Cornish and White walked back to number nine.
+      Lord Ferriby was at home, and they were ushered into his study, an
+      apartment which, like many other things appertaining to his lordship, was
+      calculated to convey an erroneous impression. There were books upon the
+      tables&mdash;the lives of great and good men. Pamphlets relating to
+      charitable matters, missionary matters, and a thousand schemes for the
+      amelioration of the human lot here and hereafter, lay about in profusion.
+      This was obviously the den of a great philanthropist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship presently appeared, carrying a number of voting papers, which
+      he threw carelessly on the table. He was, it seemed, a subscriber to many
+      institutions for the blind, the maimed, and the halt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I generally get through my work in the morning, but I find
+      myself behindhand to-day. It is wonderful,&rdquo; he added, directing his
+      conversation and his benevolent gaze towards White, &ldquo;how busy an idle man
+      may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;M&mdash;m&mdash;yes!&rdquo; answered the major, with his stolid stare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish broke what threatened to be an awkward silence by referring at
+      once to the subject in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;that this Malgamite scheme is not what we took it
+      to be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby looked surprised and slightly scandalized. Could it be
+      possible for a fashionable charity to be anything but what it appeared to
+      be? In his eyes, wandering from one face to the other, there lurked the
+      question as to whether they had seen Roden and Von Holzen quit his door a
+      minute earlier. But no reference was made to those two gentlemen, and Lord
+      Ferriby, who, as a chairman of many boards, was a master of the art of
+      conciliation and the decent closing of both eyes to unsightly facts,
+      received Cornish's suggestion with a polite and avuncular pooh-pooh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must not,&rdquo; he said soothingly, &ldquo;allow our judgment to be hastily
+      affected by the ill-considered statements of the&mdash;er&mdash;newspapers.
+      Such statements, my dear Anthony&mdash;and you, Major White&mdash;are, I
+      may tell you, only what we, as the pioneers of a great movement, must be
+      prepared to expect. I saw the article in the <i>Times</i> to which you
+      refer&mdash;indeed, I read it most carefully, as, in my capacity of
+      chairman of this&mdash;eh&mdash;char&mdash;that is to say, company, I was
+      called upon to do. And I formed the opinion that the mind of the writer
+      was&mdash;eh&mdash;warped.&rdquo; Lord Ferriby smiled sadly, and gave a final
+      wave of the hand, as if to indicate that the whole matter lay in a
+      nutshell, and that nutshell under his lordship's heel. &ldquo;Warped or not,&rdquo;
+       answered Cornish, &ldquo;the man says that we have formed ourselves into a
+      company, which company is bound to make huge profits, and those profits
+      are naturally assumed to find their way into our pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Anthony,&rdquo; replied the chairman, with a laugh which was almost a
+      cackle, &ldquo;the labourer is worthy of his hire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which seems likely to become the <i>dernier cri</i> of the overpaid
+      throughout all the ages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even if we contradict the statement,&rdquo; pursued Cornish, with a sudden
+      coldness in his manner, &ldquo;the contradiction will probably fail to reach
+      many of the readers of this article, and as matters at present stand, I do
+      not see that we are in a position to contradict.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;My dear Anthony,&rdquo; answered Lord Ferriby, turning over his papers with
+a preoccupied air, as if the question under discussion only called for
+a small share of his attention&mdash;&ldquo;my dear Anthony, the money was
+subscribed for the amelioration of the lot of the malgamite workers. We
+have not only ameliorated their lot, but we have elevated them morally
+and physically. We have far exceeded our promises, and the subscribers,
+ who, after all, take a small interest in the matter, have every reason
+to be satisfied that their money has been applied to the purpose for
+which they intended it. They were kind enough to intrust us with the
+financial arrangements. The concern is a private one, and it is the
+business of no one&mdash;not even of the <i>Times</i>&mdash;to inquire into the method
+which we think well to adopt for the administration of the Malgamite
+Fund. If the subscribers had no confidence in us, they surely would not
+have given the management unreservedly into our hands.&rdquo; Lord Ferriby
+spread out the limbs in question with an easy laugh. Has not a greater
+than any of us said that a man &ldquo;may smile, and smile, and be a
+villain&rdquo;? A silence followed, which was almost, but not quite, broken
+by the major, who took his glass from his eye, examined it very
+carefully, as if wondering how it had been made, and, replacing it with
+a deep sigh, sat staring at the opposite wall.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are not disposed to withdraw your name from the concern?&rdquo; asked
+      Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Most certainly not, my dear Anthony. What have the malgamiters done that
+      I should, so to speak, abandon them at the first difficulty which has
+      presented itself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what about the profits?&rdquo; inquired Cornish, bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Roden is our paid secretary. He understands the financial situation,
+      which is rather a complicated one. We may, I think, leave such details to
+      him. And if I may suggest it (I may perhaps rightly lay claim to a
+      somewhat larger experience in charitable finances than either of you), I
+      should recommend a strict reticence on this matter. We are not called upon
+      to answer idle questions, I think. And if&mdash;well&mdash;if the labourer
+      is found worthy of his hire ... buy yourself a new hat, my dear Anthony.
+      Buy yourself a new hat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish rose, and looked at his watch. &ldquo;I wonder if Joan will give us a
+      cup of tea,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We might, at all events, go up and try.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly&mdash;certainly. And I will follow when I have finished my
+      work. And do not give the matter another thought&mdash;either of you&mdash;eh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's been got at,&rdquo; said Major White to his companion as they walked
+      upstairs together, as if Lord Ferriby were a jockey or some common person
+      of that sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV. PLAIN SPEAKING.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Il est rare que la tête des rois soit faite à la mesure de
+     leur couronne.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I want is something to eat,&rdquo; Miss Marguerite Wade confided in an
+      undertone to Tony Cornish, a few minutes later in Lady Ferriby's
+      drawing-room. She said this with a little glance of amusement, as Cornish
+      stood before her with two plates of biscuits, which certainly did not
+      promise much sustenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; answered Cornish, &ldquo;you have come to the wrong house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite kept him waiting while she arranged biscuits in her saucer. He
+      set the plates aside, and returned to her in answer to her tacit order,
+      conveyed by laying one hand on a vacant chair by her side. Marguerite was
+      in the midst of that brief period of a woman's life wherein she dares to
+      state quite clearly what she wants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you marry Joan?&rdquo; she asked, eating a biscuit with a fine young
+      optimism, which almost implied that things sometimes taste as nice as they
+      look.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you marry Major White?&rdquo; retorted Tony; and Marguerite turned
+      and looked at him gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For a man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that wasn't so dusty. So few men have any eyes in
+      their head, you know.&rdquo; And she thoughtfully finished the biscuits. &ldquo;I
+      think I'll go back to the bread-and-butter,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It's the last time
+      Lady Ferriby will ask me to stay to tea, so I may as well be hanged for&mdash;three
+      pence as three farthings. And I think I will be more careful with you in
+      the future. For a man, you are rather sharp.&rdquo; And she looked at him
+      doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you attain my age,&rdquo; replied Tony, &ldquo;you will have arrived at the
+      conclusion that the whole world is sharper than one took it to be. It does
+      not do to think that the world is blind. It is better not to care whether
+      it sees or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Women cannot afford to do that,&rdquo; returned Marguerite, with the
+      accumulated wisdom of nearly a score of years. &ldquo;Oh, hang!&rdquo; she added, a
+      moment later, under her breath, as she perceived Joan and Major White
+      coming towards them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a letter for you,&rdquo; said Joan, &ldquo;enclosed in one I received this
+      morning from Mrs. Vansittart at The Hague. She is not coming to the
+      Harberdashers' Assistants' Ball, and this is, I suppose, in answer to the
+      card you sent her. She explains that she did not know your address.&rdquo; And
+      Joan looked at him with a doubting glance for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish took the letter, but did not ask permission to open it. He held it
+      in his hand, and asked Joan a question. &ldquo;Did you see Saturday's Times?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of course I did,&rdquo; she answered earnestly; &ldquo;and of course, if it is
+      true you will all wash your hands of the whole affair, I suppose. I was
+      talking to Mr. Wade about it. He, however, placed both sides of the
+      question before me in about ten words, and left me to take my choice&mdash;which
+      I am incompetent to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Papa doesn't understand women,&rdquo; put in Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Understands money, though,&rdquo; retorted Major White, looking at her in
+      somewhat severe astonishment, as if he had hitherto been unaware that she
+      could speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite took the rebuff with demurely closed lips, a probable
+      indication that the only retort she could think of was hardly fit for
+      enunciation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cornish drifted out of the conversation, and presently moved away to
+      the window, where he took the opportunity of opening Mrs. Vansittart's
+      letter. Mr. Wade, near at hand, was explaining good-naturedly to Lady
+      Ferriby that, with the best will in the world, five per cent, and perfect
+      safety are not to be obtained nowadays.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;MON AMI&rdquo; (wrote Mrs. Vansittart in French), &ldquo;I take a daily promenade
+      after coffee in the Oude Weg. I sit on the bench where you sat, and more
+      often than not I see the sight that you saw. I am not a sentimental woman,
+      but, after all, one has a heart, and this is a pitiful affair. Also, I
+      have obtained from a reliable source the information that the new system
+      of manufacture is more deadly than the old, which I have long suspected,
+      and which, I believe, has passed through your mind as well. You and I went
+      into this thing without <i>le bon motif</i>; but Providence is dealing out
+      fresh hands, and you, at all events, hold cards that call for careful and
+      bold playing. My friend, throw your Haberdashers over the wall and act
+      without delay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;E. V.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      She enclosed a formal refusal of the invitation to the Haberdashers'
+      Assistants' Ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White was not a talkative man, and towards Joan in particular his
+      attitude was one of silent wonder. In preference to talking to her, he
+      preferred to stand a little way off and look at her. And if, at these
+      moments, the keen observer could detect any glimmer of expression on his
+      face, that glimmer seemed to express abject abasement before a creation
+      that could produce anything so puzzling, so interesting, so absolutely
+      beautiful&mdash;as Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish, seeing White engaged in his favourite pastime, took him by the
+      arm and led him to the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and then burn it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; Joan was saying to Marguerite, as he joined them, &ldquo;there are,
+      as your father says, two sides to the question. If papa and Tony and Major
+      White withdraw their names and abandon the poor malgamiters now, there
+      will be no help for the miserable wretches. They will all drift back to
+      the cheaper and more poisonous way of making malgamite. And such a thing
+      would be a blot upon our civilization&mdash;wouldn't it, Tony?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite nodded an airy acquiescence. She was watching Major White&mdash;that
+      great strategist&mdash;tear up Mrs. Vansittart's letter and throw it into
+      the fire, with a deliberate non-concealment which was perhaps superior to
+      any subterfuge. The major joined the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the view that I take of it,&rdquo; answered Tony.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you say?&rdquo; asked Joan, turning upon the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I? Oh, nothing!&rdquo; replied that soldier, with perfect truthfulness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what are you going to do?&rdquo; asked Joan, who was practical, and, like
+      many practical people, rather given to hasty action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are going to stick to the malgamiters,&rdquo; replied Tony, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Through thick and thin?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, buttoning her glove.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;through thick and thin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both girls looked at Major White, who stolidly returned their gaze, and
+      appeared as usual to have no remark to offer. He was saved, indeed, from
+      all effort in that direction by the advent of Lord Ferriby, who entered
+      the room with more than his usual importance. He carried an open letter in
+      his hand, and seemed by his manner to demand the instant attention of the
+      whole party. There are some men and a few women who live for the
+      multitude, and are not content with the attention of one or two persons
+      only. And surely these have their reward, for the attention of the
+      multitude, however pleasant it may be while it lasts, is singularly
+      short-lived, and there is nothing more pitiful to watch than the effort to
+      catch it when it has wandered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh&mdash;er,&rdquo; began his lordship, and everybody paused to listen. &ldquo;I have
+      here a letter from our clerk at the Malgamite office in Great George
+      Street. It appears that there are a number of persons there&mdash;paper-makers,
+      I understand&mdash;who insist upon seeing us, and refuse to leave the
+      premises until they have done so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby's manner indicated quite clearly his pity for these persons
+      who had proved themselves capable of such a shocking breach of good
+      manners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One hardly knows what to do,&rdquo; he said, not meaning, of course, that his
+      words should be taken <i>au pied de la lettre</i>. His hearers, he
+      obviously felt assured, knew him better than to imagine that he was really
+      at a loss. &ldquo;It is difficult to deal with&mdash;er&mdash;persons of this
+      description. What do you propose that we should do?&rdquo; he inquired, turning,
+      as if by instinct, to Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and see them,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Anthony, such a crisis should be dealt with by Mr. Roden,
+      whom one may regard as our&mdash;er&mdash;financial adviser.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But as Roden is not here, we must do without his assistance. Perhaps Mr.
+      Wade would consent to act as our financial adviser on this occasion,&rdquo;
+       suggested Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go with you,&rdquo; replied the banker, &ldquo;and hear what they have to say,
+      if you like. But of course I can take no part in anything in the nature of
+      a controversy, and my name must not be mentioned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Incognito,&rdquo; suggested Lord Ferriby, with a forced laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;incognito,&rdquo; returned the banker, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The major attracted general attention to himself by murmuring something
+      inaudible, which he was urged to repeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doocid decent of Mr. Wade,&rdquo; he said, a second time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And that seemed to settle the matter, for they all moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave the carriage for me,&rdquo; cried Marguerite over the banisters, as her
+      father descended the stairs. &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; she added to Joan in an
+      undertone, &ldquo;that the Malgamite scheme is up a gum-tree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the little office of the Malgamite Fund the directors of that charity
+      found four gentlemen seated upon the chairs usually grouped round the
+      table where the ball committee or the bazaar sub-committees held their
+      sittings. One, who appeared to be what Lord Ferriby afterwards described,
+      more in sorrow than in anger, as the ringleader, was a red-haired,
+      brown-bearded Scotchman, with square shoulders and his head set thereon in
+      a manner indicative of advanced radical opinions. The second in authority
+      was a mild-mannered man with a pale face and a drooping sparse moustache.
+      He had a gentle eye, and lips for ever parting in a mildly argumentative
+      manner. The other two paper-makers appeared to be foreigners. &ldquo;Ah'm
+      thinking&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; began the mild man in a long drawl; but he was
+      promptly overpowered by his fellow-countryman, who nodded curtly to Mr.
+      Wade, and said&mdash;&ldquo;Lord Ferriby?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the banker, calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my name,&rdquo; said the chairman of the Malgamite Fund, with his
+      finger in his watch-chain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The russet gentleman looked at him with a fierce blue eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we'll come to business. For it's on business that
+      we've come. My friend Mr. MacHewlett, is, like myself, in charge of one of
+      the biggest mills in the country; here's Mossier Delmont of the great mill
+      at Clermont-Ferrand, and Mr. Meyer from Germany. My own name's a plain one&mdash;like
+      myself&mdash;but an honest one; it's John Thompson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby bowed, and Major White looked at John Thompson with a placid
+      interest, as if he felt glad of this opportunity of meeting one of the
+      Thompson family.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we've come to ask you to be so good as to explain your position as
+      regards malgamite. What are ye, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; began Lord Ferriby, with one hand upraised in mild
+      expostulation, &ldquo;let us be a little more conciliatory in our manner. We
+      are, I am sure (I speak for myself and my fellow-directors, whom you see
+      before you), most desirous of avoiding any unpleasantness, and we are
+      ready to give you all the information in our power, when&rdquo;&mdash;he paused,
+      and waved a graceful hand&mdash;&ldquo;when you have proved your right to demand
+      such information.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our right is that of representatives of a great trade. We four men, that
+      have been deputed to see you on the matter, have at our backs no less than
+      eight thousand employees&mdash;honest, hard-workin' men, whose bread you
+      are taking out of their mouths. We are not afraid of the ordinary
+      vicissitudes of commerce. If ye had quietly worked this monopoly in fair
+      competition, we should have known how to meet ye. But ye come before the
+      world as philanthropists, and ye work a great monopoly under the guise of
+      doin' a good work. It was a dirty thing to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby shrugged his shoulders. &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you fail to
+      grasp the situation. We have given our time and attention to the
+      grievances of these poor men, whose lot it has been our earnest endeavour
+      to ameliorate. You are speaking, my dear sir, to men who represent, not
+      eight thousand employes, but who represent something greater than they,
+      namely, charity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah'm thinking!&rdquo; began Mr. MacHewlett, plaintively, and the very richness
+      of his accents secured a breathless attention. &ldquo;Damn charity,&rdquo; he
+      concluded, abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White looked upon him in solid approval, as upon a plain-spoken
+      man after his own heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we,&rdquo; said Mr. Thompson, &ldquo;represent commerce, which was in the world
+      before charity, and will be there after it, if charity is going to be
+      handled by such as you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was, it appeared, no possibility of pacifying these irate
+      paper-makers, whose plainness of speech was positively painful to ears so
+      polite as those of Lord Ferriby. A Scotchman, hard hit in his tenderest
+      spot, namely, the pocket, is not a person to mince words, and Lord Ferriby
+      was for the moment silenced by the stormy attack of Mr. Thompson, and the
+      sly, plaintive hits of his companion. But the chairman of the Malgamite
+      Fund would not give way, and only repeated his assurances of a desire to
+      conciliate, which desire took the form only of words, and must, therefore,
+      have been doubly annoying to angry men. To him who wants war there is
+      nothing more insulting than feeble offers of peace. Major White expressed
+      his readiness to fight Messrs. Thompson and MacHewlett at one and the same
+      time on the landing, but this suggestion was not well received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Upon two of the listeners no word was lost, and Mr. Wade and Cornish knew
+      that the paper-makers had right upon their side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Quite suddenly Mr. Thompson's manner changed, and he glanced towards the
+      door to see that it was closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it's a matter of paying,&rdquo; he said to his companions. Turning towards
+      Lord Ferriby, he spoke in a voice that sounded more contemptuous than
+      angry. &ldquo;We're plain business men,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What's your price&mdash;you
+      and these other gentlemen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no price,&rdquo; answered Cornish, meeting the angry blue eyes and
+      speaking for the first time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And mine is too high&mdash;for plain business men,&rdquo; added Major White,
+      with a slow smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seeing that you're a lord,&rdquo; said Thompson, addressing the chairman again,
+      &ldquo;I suppose it's a matter of thousands. Name your figure, and be done with
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby took the insult in quite a different spirit to that displayed
+      by his two co-directors. He was pale with anger, and spluttered rather
+      incoherently. Then he took up his hat and stick and walked with much
+      dignity to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was followed down the stairs by the paper-makers, Mr. Thompson making
+      use of language that was decidedly bespattered with &ldquo;winged words,&rdquo; while
+      Mr. MacHewlett detailed his own thoughts in a plaintive monotone. Lord
+      Ferriby got rather hastily into a hansom and drove away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing for it,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade to Cornish in the gay little
+      office above the Ladies' Tea Association&mdash;&ldquo;there is nothing for it
+      but to run Roden's Corner yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI. DANGER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one's self.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was possessed of that love of horses which, like sentiment,
+      crops up in strange places. He had never been able to indulge this taste
+      beyond the doubtful capacities of the livery-stable. He found, however,
+      that at the Hague he could hire a good saddle-horse, which discovery was
+      made with suspicious haste after learning the fact that Mrs. Vansittart
+      occasionally indulged in the exercise that his soul loved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart said that she rode because one has to take exercise, and
+      riding is the laziest method of fulfilling one's obligations in this
+      respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't like horsy women,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and I cannot understand how my sex
+      has been foolish enough to believe that any woman looks her best, or,
+      indeed, anything but her worst, in the saddle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There is a period in the lives of most men when they are desirous of
+      extending their knowledge of the surrounding country on horseback, on a
+      bicycle, on foot, or even on their hands and knees, if such journeys might
+      be accomplished in the company of a certain person. Percy Roden was at
+      this period, and he soon discovered that there are tulip farms in the
+      neighbourhood of The Hague. A tulip farm may serve its purpose as well as
+      ever did a ruin or a waterfall in more picturesque countries than Holland;
+      for, indeed, during the last weeks in April and the early half of May,
+      these fields of waving yellow, pink, and red are worth traveling many
+      miles to see. As for Mrs. Vansittart, it may be said of her, as of the
+      rest of her sex under similar circumstances, that it suited her purpose to
+      say that she would like nothing better than to visit the tulip farms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's suggestion included breakfast at the Villa des Dunes, whither Mrs.
+      Vansittart drove in her habit, while her saddle-horse was to follow later.
+      Dorothy welcomed her readily enough, with, however, a reserve at the back
+      of her grey eyes. A woman is, it appears, ready to forgive much if love
+      may be held out as an excuse, but Dorothy did not believe that Mrs.
+      Vansittart had any love for Percy; indeed, she shrewdly suspected that all
+      that part of this woman's life belonged to the past, and would remain
+      there until the end of her existence. There are few things more
+      astonishing to the close observer of human nature than the accuracy and
+      rapidity with which one woman will sum up another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not in your habit,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, seating herself at the
+      breakfast-table. &ldquo;You are not to be of the party?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;I have never had the opportunity or the
+      inclination to ride.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, I know,&rdquo; laughed the elder woman. &ldquo;Horses are old-fashioned, and only
+      dowagers drive in a barouche to-day. I suppose you ride a bicycle, or
+      would do so in any country but Holland, where the roads make that craze a
+      madness. I must be content with my old-fashioned horse. If, in moving with
+      the times, one's movements are apt to be awkward, it is better to be left
+      behind, is it not, Mr. Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's glance expressed what he did not care to say in the presence of a
+      third person. When a woman, whose every movement is graceful, speaks of
+      awkwardness, she assuredly knows her ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, moreover, showed clearly enough that she was on the safe
+      side of forty by quite a number of years when it came to settling herself
+      in the saddle and sitting her fresh young horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which way?&rdquo; she inquired when they reached the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that way, at all events,&rdquo; answered Roden, for his companion had
+      turned her horse's head toward the malgamite works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke with a laugh that was not pleasant to the ears, and a shadow
+      passed through Mrs. Vansittart's dark eyes. She glanced across the yellow
+      sand hills, where the works were effectually concealed by the rise and
+      fall of the wind-swept land, from whence came no sign of human life, and
+      only at times, when the north wind blew, a faint and not unpleasant odour
+      like the smell of sealing-wax. For all that the world knew of the
+      malgamite workers, they might have been a colony of lepers. &ldquo;You speak,&rdquo;
+       said Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;as if you were a failure instead of a brilliant
+      success. I think&rdquo;&mdash;she paused for a moment, as if the thought were a
+      real one and not a mere conversational convenience, as are the thoughts of
+      most people&mdash;&ldquo;that the cream of social life consists of the cheery
+      failures.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no faith in my own luck,&rdquo; answered Percy Roden, gloomily, whose
+      world was a narrow one, consisting as it did of himself and his bank-book.
+      Moreover, most men draw aside readily enough the curtain that should hide
+      the world in which they live, whereas women take their stand before their
+      curtain and talk, and talk&mdash;of other things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had never for a moment been mistaken in her estimate of
+      her companion, of&mdash;as he considered himself&mdash;her lover. She had
+      absolutely nothing in common with him. She was a physically lazy, but a
+      mentally active woman, whose thoughts ran to abstract matters so
+      persistently that they brought her to the verge of abstraction itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden, on the other hand, would, with better health, have been an
+      athlete. In his youth he had overtaxed his strength on the football field.
+      When he took up a newspaper now he read the money column first and the
+      sporting items next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart glanced at neither of these, and as often as not contented
+      herself with the advertisements of new books, passing idly over the news
+      of the world with a heedless eye. She, at all events, avoided the mistake,
+      common to men and women of a journalistic generation, of allowing
+      themselves to be vastly perturbed over events in far countries, which can
+      in no way affect their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, on the other hand, took a certain broad interest in the progress of
+      the world, but only watched the daily procession of events with the
+      discriminating eye of a business man. He kept his eye, in a word, on the
+      main chance, as on a small golden thread woven in the grey tissue of the
+      world's history.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was easy enough to make him talk of himself and of the Malgamite
+      scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you must admit that you are a success, you know,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Vansittart. &ldquo;I see your quiet grey carts, full of little square boxes,
+      passing up Park Straat to the railway station in a procession every day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; admitted Roden. &ldquo;We are doing a large business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was willing to allow Mrs. Vansittart to suppose that he was a rich man,
+      for he was shrewd enough to know that the affections, like all else in
+      this world, are purchasable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there is no reason,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;why you should not
+      go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
+      malgamite is an absolute secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the process is preserved in your memory only?&rdquo; asked the lady, with a
+      little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity of wiser
+      men than Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not in my memory,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It is very long and technical, and I
+      have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
+      better one than mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered, or
+      something dramatic of that sort&mdash;what would happen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; answered Roden, &ldquo;we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew, in
+      our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys of
+      the safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart laughed. &ldquo;It sounds like a romance,&rdquo; she said. She pulled
+      up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. &ldquo;Look at that line
+      of sea,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;on the horizon. What a wonderful blue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is always dark like that with an east wind,&rdquo; replied Roden,
+      practically. &ldquo;We like to see it dark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
+      half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,&rdquo; he
+      explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think of everything,&rdquo; she said, without enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I only think of you,&rdquo; he answered, with a little laugh, which indeed
+      was his method of making love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For fear of Mrs. Vansittart laughing at him, he laughed at love&mdash;a
+      very common form of cowardice. She smiled and said nothing, thus tacitly
+      allowing him, as she had allowed him before, to assume that she was not
+      displeased. She knew that in love he was the incarnation of caution, and
+      would only venture so far as she encouraged him to come. She had him, in a
+      word, thoroughly in hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They rode on, talking of other things; and Roden, having sped his shaft,
+      seemed relieved in mind, and had plenty to say&mdash;about himself. A
+      man's interests are himself, and malgamite naturally formed a large part
+      of Roden's conversation. Mrs. Vansittart encouraged him with a singular
+      persistency to talk of this interesting product.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful,&rdquo; she said&mdash;&ldquo;quite wonderful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, hardly that,&rdquo; he answered slowly, as if there were something more
+      to be said, which he did not say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I do not give so much credit to Herr von Holzen as you suppose,&rdquo;
+       added Mrs. Vansittart, carelessly. &ldquo;Some day you will have to fulfil your
+      promise of taking me over the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden did not answer. He was perhaps wondering when he had made the
+      promise to which his companion referred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall we go home that way?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, whose experience of
+      the world had taught her that deliberate and steady daring in social
+      matters usually, succeeds. &ldquo;We might have a splendid gallop along the
+      sands at low tide, and then ride up quietly through the dunes. I take a
+      certain interest in&mdash;well&mdash;in your affairs, and you have never
+      even allowed me to look at the outside of the malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Should like to know the extent of your interest,&rdquo; muttered Roden, with
+      his awkward laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare say you would,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart, coolly. &ldquo;But that is not
+      the question. Here we are at the cross-roads. Shall we go home by the
+      sands and the dunes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you like,&rdquo; answered Roden, not too graciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      According to his lights, he was honestly in love with Mrs. Vansittart, but
+      Percy Roden's lights were not brilliant, and his love was not a very high
+      form of that little-known passion. It lacked, for instance, unselfishness,
+      and love that lacks unselfishness is, at its best, a sorry business. He
+      was afraid of ridicule. His vanity would not allow him to risk a rebuff.
+      His was that faintness of heart which is all too common, and owes its
+      ignoble existence to a sullen vanity. He wanted to be sure that Mrs.
+      Vansittart loved him before he betrayed more than a half-contemptuous
+      admiration for her. Who knows that he was not dimly aware of his own
+      inferiority, and thus feared to venture?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The tide was low, as Mrs. Vansittart had foreseen, and they galloped along
+      the hard, flat sands towards Scheveningen, where a few clumsy
+      fishing-boats lay stranded. Far out at sea, others plied their trade,
+      tacking to and fro over the banks, where the fish congregate. The sky was
+      clear, and the deep-coloured sea flashed here and there beneath the sun.
+      Objects near and far stood out in the clear air with a startling
+      distinctness. It was a fresh May morning, when it is good to be alive, and
+      better to be young.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart rode a few yards ahead of her companion, with a set face
+      and deep calculating eyes. When they came within sight of the tall chimney
+      of the pumping-station, it was she who led the way across the dunes.
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; she suddenly inquired, pulling up, and turning in her saddle,
+      &ldquo;where are your works? It seems that one can never discover them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden passed her and took the lead. &ldquo;I will take you there, since you are
+      so anxious to go&mdash;if you will tell me why you wish to see the works,&rdquo;
+       he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like to know,&rdquo; she answered, with averted eyes and a slow
+      deliberation, &ldquo;where and how you spend so much of your time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you are jealous of the malgamite works,&rdquo; he said, with his curt
+      laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I am,&rdquo; she admitted, without meeting his glance; and Roden rode
+      ahead, with a gleam of satisfaction in his heavy eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mrs. Vansittart found herself within the gates of the malgamite works,
+      riding quietly on the silent sand, at the heels of Roden's horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The workmen's dinner-bell had rung as they approached, and now the
+      factories were deserted, while within the cottages the midday meal
+      occupied the full attention of the voluntary exiles. For the directors had
+      found it necessary, in the interests of all concerned, to bind the workers
+      by solemn contract never to leave the precincts of the works without
+      permission.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden did not speak, but led the way across an open space now filled with
+      carts, which were to be loaded during the day in readiness for an early
+      despatch on the following morning. Mrs. Vansittart followed without asking
+      questions. She was prepared to content herself with a very cursory visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had not progressed thirty yards from the entrance gate, which Roden
+      had opened with a key attached to his watch-chain, when the door of one of
+      the cottages moved, and Von Holzen appeared. He was hatless, and came out
+      into the sunshine rather hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, madame,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you honour us beyond our merits.&rdquo; And he stood,
+      smiling gravely, in front of Mrs. Vansittart's horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She surreptitiously touched the animal with her heel, but Von Holzen
+      checked its movement by laying his hand on the bridle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it happens to be our mixing day, and the factories are
+      hermetically closed while the process goes forward. Any other day, madame,
+      that your fancy brings you over the dunes, I should be delighted&mdash;but
+      not to-day. I tell you frankly there is danger. You surely would not run
+      into it.&rdquo; He looked up at her with his searching gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! you think it is easy to frighten me, Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; she cried,
+      with a little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; but I would not for the world that you should unwittingly run any
+      risks in this place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke, he led the horse quietly to the gate, and Mrs. Vansittart,
+      seeing her helplessness, submitted with a good grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden made no comment, and followed, not ill pleased, perhaps, at this
+      simple solution of his difficulty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did not refer to the incident until late in the evening, when
+      Roden was leaving the works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is too serious a time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to let women, or vanity, interfere
+      in our plans. You know that the deaths are on the increase. Anything in
+      the nature of an inquiry at this time would mean ruin, and&mdash;perhaps
+      worse. Be careful of that woman. I sometimes think that she is fooling
+      you.&mdash;But I think,&rdquo; he added to himself, when the gate was closed
+      behind Roden, &ldquo;that I can fool her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII. PLAIN SPEAKING.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;A tous maux, il y a deux remèdes&mdash;le temps et le silence.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They call me Uncle Ben&mdash;comprenny?&rdquo; one man explained very slowly to
+      another for the sixth time across a small iron table set out upon the
+      pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated in front of the humble Café de l'Europe, which lies
+      concealed in an alley that runs between the Keize Straat and the
+      lighthouse of Scheveningen. It was quite dark and a lonely reveler at the
+      next table seemed to be asleep. The economical proprietor of the Café de
+      l'Europe had conceived the idea of constructing a long-shaped lantern, not
+      unlike the arm of a railway signal, which should at once bear the insignia
+      of his house and afford light to his out-door custom. But the idea, like
+      many of the higher flights of the human imagination, had only left the
+      public in the dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued the unchallenged speaker, in a voice which may be heard
+      issuing from the door of any tavern in England on almost any evening of
+      the week&mdash;the typical voice of the tavern-talker&mdash;&ldquo;yes, they've
+      always called me Uncle Ben. Seems as if they're sort o' fond of me. Me has
+      seen many hundreds of 'em come and go. But nothing like this. Lord save
+      us!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His hand fell heavily on the iron table, and he looked round him in
+      semi-intoxicated stupefaction. He was in a confidential humour, and when a
+      man is in this humour, drunk or sober, he is in a parlous state. It was
+      certainly rather unfortunate that Uncle Ben should have in this expansive
+      moment no more sympathetic companion than an ancient, intoxicated
+      Frenchman, who spoke no word of English.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What I want to know, Frenchy,&rdquo; continued the Englishman, in a thick,
+      aggrieved voice, &ldquo;is how long you've been at this trade, and how much you
+      know about it&mdash;you and the other Frenchy. But there's none of us
+      speaks the other's lingo. It is a regular Tower of Babble we are!&rdquo; And
+      Uncle Ben added to his mental confusion a further alcoholic fog. &ldquo;That's
+      why I showed yer the way out of the works over the iron fence by the empty
+      casks, and brought yer by the beach to this 'ere house of entertainment,
+      and stood yer a bottle of brandy between two of us&mdash;which is
+      handsome, not bein' my own money, seeing as how the others deputed me to
+      do it&mdash;me knowing a bit of French, comprenny?&rdquo; Benjamin, like most of
+      his countrymen, considering that if one speaks English in a loud, clear
+      voice, and adds &ldquo;comprenny&rdquo; rather severely, as indicating the intention
+      of standing no nonsense, the previous remarks will translate themselves
+      miraculously in the hearer's mind. &ldquo;You comprenny&mdash;eh? Yes. Oui.&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;Oui,&rdquo; replied the Frenchman, holding out his glass; and Uncle Ben's was
+      that pride which goes with a gift of tongues.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He struck a match to light his pipe&mdash;one of the wooden,
+      sulphur-headed matches supplied by the <i>café</i>&mdash;and the guest at
+      the next table turned in his chair. The match flared up and showed two
+      faces, which he studied keenly. Both faces were alike unwashed and deeply
+      furrowed. White, straggling beards and whiskers accentuated the redness of
+      the eyelids, the dull yellow of the skin. They were hopeless and debased
+      faces, with that disquieting resemblance which is perceptible in the faces
+      of men of dissimilar features and no kinship, who have for a number of
+      years followed a common calling, or suffered a common pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These two men were both half blind; they had equally unsteady hands. The
+      clothing of both alike, and even their breath, was scented by a not
+      unpleasant odour of sealing-wax.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was quite obvious that not only were they at present half intoxicated,
+      but in their soberest moments they could hardly be of a high intelligence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The reveller at the next table, who happened to be Tony Cornish, now drew
+      his chair nearer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Englishman?&rdquo; he inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's me,&rdquo; answered Uncle Ben, with commendable pride, &ldquo;from the top of
+      my head to me boots. Not that I've anything to say against foreigners.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I; but it's pleasant to meet a countryman in a foreign land.&rdquo; Cornish
+      deliberately brought his chair forward. &ldquo;Your bottle is empty,&rdquo; he added;
+      &ldquo;I'll order another. Friend's a Frenchman, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That he is&mdash;and doesn't understand his own language either,&rdquo;
+       answered Uncle Ben, in a voice indicating that that lack of comprehension
+      rather intensified his friend's Frenchness than otherwise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The proprietor of the Café de l'Europe now came out in answer to Cornish's
+      rap on the iron table, and presently brought a small bottle of brandy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Cornish, pouring out the spirit, which his companions drank in
+      its undiluted state from small tumblers&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I'm glad to meet an
+      Englishman. I suppose you are in the works&mdash;the Malgamite?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am. And what do you know about malgamite, mister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not much, I am glad to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is precious few that knows anything,&rdquo; said the man, darkly, and his
+      eye for a moment sobered into cunning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard that it is a very dangerous trade, and if you want to get
+      out of it I'm connected with an association in London to provide
+      situations for elderly men who are no longer up to their work,&rdquo; said
+      Cornish, carelessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank ye, mister; not for me. I'm making my five-pound note a week, I am,
+      and each cove that dies off makes the survivors one richer, so to speak&mdash;survival
+      of the fittest, they call it. So we don't talk much, and just pockets the
+      pay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, that is the arrangement, is it?&rdquo; said Cornish, indifferently. &ldquo;Yes.
+      We've got a clever financier, as they call it, I can tell yer. We're a
+      good-goin' concern, we are. Some of us are goin' pretty quick, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there many deaths, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! there you're asking a question,&rdquo; returned the man, who came of a
+      class which has no false shame in refusing a reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked at the man beneath the dim light of the unsuccessful lamp&mdash;a
+      piteous specimen of humanity, depraved, besotted, without outward sign of
+      a redeeming virtue, although a certain courage must have been there&mdash;this
+      and such as this stood between him and Dorothy Roden. Uncle Ben had known
+      starvation at one time, for starvation writes certain lines which even
+      turtle soup may never wipe out&mdash;lines which any may read and none may
+      forget. Tony Cornish had seen them before&mdash;on the face of an old
+      dandy coming down the steps of a St. James's Street club. The malgamiter
+      had likewise known drink long and intimately, and it is no exaggeration to
+      say that he had stood cheek by jowl with death nearly all his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such a man was plainly not to be drawn away from five pounds a week.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to the Frenchman&mdash;a little, cunning, bullet-headed
+      Lyonnais, who would not speak of his craft at all, though he expressed
+      every desire to be agreeable to monsieur.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is <i>en fête</i>,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;it is good to drink one's glass
+      or two and think no more of work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew one or two of your men once,&rdquo; said Cornish, returning to the
+      genial Uncle Ben. &ldquo;William Martins, I remember, was a decent fellow, and
+      had seen a bit of the world. I will come to the works and look him up some
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can look him up, mister, but you won't find him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, has he gone home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's gone to his long home, that's where he's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And his brother, Tom Martins, both London men, like myself?&rdquo; inquired
+      Cornish, without asking that question which Uncle Ben considered such
+      exceedingly bad form.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tom's dead, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And there were two Americans, I recollect&mdash;I came across from
+      Harwich in the same boat with them&mdash;Hewlish they were called.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hewlishes has stepped round the corner, too,&rdquo; admitted Uncle Ben. &ldquo;Oh
+      yes; there's been changes in the works, there's no doubt. And there's only
+      one sort o' change in the malgamite trade. Come on, Frenchy, time's up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The men stood up and bade Cornish good night, each after his own manner,
+      and went away steadily enough. It was only their heads that were
+      intoxicated, and perhaps the brandy of the Café de l'Europe had nothing to
+      do with this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish followed them, and, in the Keize Straat, he called a cab, telling
+      the man to drive to the house at the corner of Oranje Straat and Park
+      Straat, occupied by Mrs. Vansittart. That lady, the servant said, in reply
+      to his careful inquiry, was at home and alone, and, moreover, did not
+      expect visitors. The man was not at all sure that madame would receive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try,&rdquo; said Cornish, writing two words in German on the corner of
+      his visiting-card. &ldquo;You see,&rdquo; he continued, noticing a well-trained
+      glance, &ldquo;that I am not dressed, so if other visitors arrive, I would
+      rather not be discovered in madame's salon, you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart shook hands with Cornish in silence, her quick eyes noted
+      the change in him which the shrewd butler had noticed in the
+      entrance-hall. The Cornish of a year earlier would have gone back to the
+      hotel to dress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just going out to the Witte society concert,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart.
+      &ldquo;I thought the open air and the wood would be pleasant this evening. Shall
+      we go or shall we remain?&rdquo; She stood with her hand on the bell looking at
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us remain here,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rang the bell and countermanded the carriage. Then she sat slowly
+      down, moving as under a sort of oppression, as if she foresaw what the
+      next few minutes contained, and felt herself on the threshold of one of
+      the surprises that Fate springs upon us at odd times, tearing aside the
+      veils behind which human hearts have slept through many years. For
+      indifference is not the death, but only the sleep of the heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have just arrived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been here a week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Cornish, with a grave smile; &ldquo;at a little inn in
+      Scheveningen, where no questions are asked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart nodded her head slowly. &ldquo;Then, <i>mon ami</i>,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;the time has come for plain speaking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is always the woman who wants to get to the plain speaking,&rdquo; she said,
+      with a smile, &ldquo;and who speaks the plainest when one gets there. You men
+      are afraid of so many words; you think them, but you dare not make use of
+      them. And how are women to know that you are thinking them?&rdquo; She spoke
+      with a sort of tolerant bitterness, as if all these questions no longer
+      interested her personally. She sat forward, with one hand on the arm of
+      her chair. &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh that shook and trembled
+      on the brink of a whole sea of unshed tears, &ldquo;I will speak the first word.
+      When my husband died, my heart broke&mdash;and it was Otto von Holzen who
+      killed him.&rdquo; Her eyes flashed suddenly, and she threw herself back in the
+      chair. Her hands were trembling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made a quick gesture of the hand&mdash;a trick he had learnt
+      somewhere on the Continent, more eloquent than a hundred words&mdash;which
+      told of his sympathy and his comprehension of all that she had left
+      unsaid. For truly she had told him her whole history in a dozen words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have followed him and watched him ever since,&rdquo; she went on at length,
+      in a quiet voice; &ldquo;but a woman is so helpless. I suppose if any of us were
+      watched and followed as he has been our lives would appear a strange
+      mixture of a little good and much bad, mixed with a mass of neutral
+      idleness. But surely his life is worse than the rest&mdash;not that it
+      matters. Whatever his life had been, if he had been a living saint, Tony,
+      he would have had to pay&mdash;for what he has done to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked steadily into the keen face that was watching hers. She was not
+      in the least melodramatic, and what was stranger, perhaps, she was not
+      ashamed. According to her lights, she was a good woman, who went to church
+      regularly, and did a little conventional good with her superfluous wealth.
+      She obeyed the unwritten laws of society, and busied herself little in her
+      neighbours' affairs. She was kind to her servants, and did not hate her
+      neighbours more than is necessary in a crowded world. She led a blameless,
+      unoccupied, and apparently purposeless life. And now she quietly told Tony
+      Cornish that her life was not purposeless, but had for its aim the desire
+      of an eye for an eye and a life for a life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember my husband,&rdquo; continued Mrs. Vansittart, after a pause. &ldquo;He
+      was always absorbed in his researches. He made a great discovery, and
+      confided in Otto von Holzen, who thought that he could make a fortune out
+      of it. But Von Holzen cheated and was caught. There was a great trial, and
+      Von Holzen succeeded in incriminating my husband, who was innocent,
+      instead of himself. The company, of course, failed, which meant ruin and
+      dishonour. In a fit of despair my husband shot himself. And afterwards it
+      transpired that by shooting himself at that time he saved my money. One
+      cannot take proceedings against a dead man, it appears. So I was left a
+      rich woman, after all, and my husband had frustrated Otto von Holzen. The
+      world did not believe that my husband had done it on purpose; but I knew
+      better. It is one of those beliefs that one keeps to one's self, and is
+      indifferent whether the world believes or not. So there remain but two
+      things for me to do&mdash;the one is to enjoy the money, and to let my
+      husband see that I spend it as he would have wished me to spend it&mdash;upon
+      myself; the other is to make Otto von Holzen pay&mdash;when the time
+      comes. Who knows? the Malgamite is perhaps the time; you are perhaps the
+      man.&rdquo; She gave her disquieting little laugh again, and sat looking at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; he said at length. &ldquo;Before, I was puzzled. There seemed no
+      reason why you should take any interest in the scheme.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My interest in the Malgamite scheme narrows down to an interest in one
+      person,&rdquo; answered Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;which is what really happens to all
+      human interests, my friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII. A COMPLICATION.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;La plus grande punition infligée à l'homme, c'est faire
+     souffrir ce qu'il aime, en voulant frapper ce qu'il hait.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had, as he told Mrs. Vansittart, been living a week at
+      Scheveningen in one of the quiet little inns in the fishing-town, where a
+      couple of apples are displayed before lace curtains in the window of the
+      restaurant as a modest promise of entertainment within. Knowing no Dutch,
+      he was saved the necessity of satisfying the curiosity of a garrulous
+      landlady, who, after many futile questions which he understood perfectly,
+      came to the conclusion that Cornish was in hiding, and might at any moment
+      fall into the hands of the police.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There are, it appears, few human actions that attract more curiosity for a
+      short time than the act of colonization. But no change is in the long run
+      so apathetically accepted as the presence of a colony of aliens. Cornish
+      soon learnt that the malgamite works were already accepted at Scheveningen
+      as a fact of small local importance. One or two fish-sellers took their
+      wares there instead of going direct to The Hague. A few of the malgamite
+      workers were seen at times, when they could get leave, on the Digue, or
+      outside the smaller <i>cafés</i>. Inoffensive, stricken men these appeared
+      to be, and the big-limbed, hardy fishermen looked on them with mingled
+      contempt and pity. No one knew what the works were, and no one cared. Some
+      thought that fireworks were manufactured within the high fence; others
+      imagined it to be a gunpowder factory. All were content with the knowledge
+      that the establishment belonged to an English company employing no outside
+      labour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish spent his days unobtrusively walking on the dunes or writing
+      letters in his modest rooms. His evenings he usually passed at the Café de
+      l'Europe, where an occasional truant malgamite worker would indulge in a
+      mild carouse. From these grim revelers Cornish elicited a good deal of
+      information. He was not actually, as his landlady suspected, in hiding,
+      but desired to withhold as long as possible from Von Holzen and Roden the
+      fact that he was in Holland. None of the malgamite workers recognized him;
+      indeed, he saw none of those whom he had brought across to The Hague, and
+      he did not care to ask too many questions. At length, as we have seen, he
+      arrived at the conclusion that Von Holzen's schemes had been too deeply
+      laid to allow of attack by subtler means, and as a preliminary to further
+      action called on Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The following morning he happened to take his walk within sight of the
+      Villa des Dunes, although far enough away to avoid risk of recognition,
+      and saw Percy Roden leave the house shortly after nine to proceed towards
+      the works. Then Tony Cornish lighted a cigarette, and sat down to wait. He
+      knew that Dorothy usually walked to The Hague before the heat of the day
+      to do her shopping there and household business. He had not long to wait.
+      Dorothy quitted the little house half an hour after her brother. But she
+      did not go towards The Hague, turning to the right instead, across the
+      open dunes towards the sea. It was a cool morning after many hot days, and
+      a fresh, invigorating breeze swept over the sand hills from the sea. It
+      was to be presumed that Dorothy, having leisure, was going to the edge of
+      the sea for a breath of the brisk air there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish rose and followed her. He was essentially a practical man&mdash;among
+      the leaders of a practical generation. The day, moreover, was conducive to
+      practical thoughts and not to dreams, for it was grey and yet of a light
+      air which came bowling in from a grey sea whose shores have assuredly been
+      trodden by the most energetic of the races of the world. For all around
+      the North Sea and on its bosom have risen races of men to conquer the
+      universe again and again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had come with the intention of seeing Dorothy and speaking with
+      her. He had quite clearly in his mind what he intended to say to her. It
+      is not claimed for Tony Cornish that he had a great mind, and that this
+      was now made up. But his thoughts, like all else about him, were neat and
+      compact, wherein he had the advantage of cleverer men, who blundered along
+      under the burden of vast ideas, which they could not put into portable
+      shape, and over which they constantly stumbled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed Dorothy, who walked briskly over the sand hills, upright,
+      trim, and strong. She carried a stick, which she planted firmly enough in
+      the sand as she walked. As he approached, he could see her lifting her
+      head to look for the sea; for the highest hills are on the shore here, and
+      stand in the form of a great barrier between the waves and the low-lying
+      plains. She swung along at the pace which Mrs. Vansittart had envied her,
+      without exertion, with that ease which only comes from perfect proportions
+      and strength.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was quite close to her before she heard his step, and turned
+      sharply. She recognized him at once, and he saw the colour slowly rise to
+      her face. She gave no cry of surprise, however, was in no foolish feminine
+      flutter, but came towards him quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know you were in Holland,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook hands without answering. All that he had prepared in his mind had
+      suddenly vanished, leaving not a blank, but a hundred other things which
+      he had not intended to say, and which now, at the sight of her face,
+      seemed inevitable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, looking into her steady grey eyes, &ldquo;I am in Holland&mdash;because
+      I cannot stay away&mdash;because I cannot live without you. I have
+      pretended to myself and to everybody else that I come to The Hague because
+      of the Malgamite; but it is not that. It is because you are here. Wherever
+      you are I must be; wherever you go I must follow you. The world is not big
+      enough for you to get away from me. It is so big that I feel I must always
+      be near you&mdash;for fear something should happen to you&mdash;to watch
+      over you and take care of you. You know what my life has been....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the
+      head. For a woman may read a man's life in his face&mdash;in the twinkling
+      of an eye&mdash;as in an open book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the world knows that....&rdquo; he continued, with a sceptical laugh. &ldquo;Is
+      it not written ... in the society papers? But it has always been
+      aboveboard&mdash;and harmless enough....&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy smiled as she looked out across the grey sea. He was, it appeared,
+      telling her nothing that she did not know. For she was wise and shrewd&mdash;of
+      that pure leaven of womankind which leaveneth all the rest. And she knew
+      that a man must not be judged by his life&mdash;not even by outward
+      appearance, upon which the world pins so much faith&mdash;but by that
+      occasional glimpse of the soul of him, which may live on, pure through all
+      impurity, or may be foul beneath the whitest covering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I have wasted my time horribly&mdash;I have
+      never done any good in the world. But&mdash;great is the extenuating
+      circumstance! I never knew what life was until I saw it ... in your eyes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still she stood with her back half turned towards him, looking out across
+      the sea. The sun had mastered the clouds and all the surface of the water
+      glittered. A few boats on the horizon seemed to dream and sleep there.
+      Beneath the dunes, the sand stretched away north and south in an unbroken
+      plain. The wind whispered through the waving grass, and, far across the
+      sands, the sea sang its eternal song. Dorothy and Cornish seemed to be
+      alone in this world of sea and sand. So far as the eye could see, there
+      were no signs of human life but the boats dreaming on the horizon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you quite sure?&rdquo; said Dorothy, without turning her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what...?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of what you say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I am quite sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh that suddenly opened the gates of
+      Paradise and bade one more poor human-being enter in&mdash;&ldquo;because it is
+      a serious matter ... for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, because he was a practical man and knew that happiness, like all
+      else in this life, must be dealt with practically if aught is to be made
+      of it, he told her why he had come. For happiness must not be rushed at
+      and seized with wild eyes and grasping hands, but must be quickly taken
+      when the chance offers, and delicately handled so that it be not ruined by
+      over haste or too much confidence. It is a gift that is rarely offered,
+      and it is only fair to say that the majority of men and women are quite
+      unfit to have it. Even a little prosperity (which is usually mistaken for
+      happiness) often proves too much for the mental equilibrium, and one
+      trembles to think what the recipient would do with real happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not come here intending to tell you that,&rdquo; said Cornish, after a
+      pause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were seated now on the dry and driven sand, among the inequalities of
+      the tufted grass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy glanced at him gravely, for his voice had been grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I knew,&rdquo; she answered, with a sort of quiet exultation. Happiness
+      is the quietest of human states.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned to look at her, and after a moment she met his eyes&mdash;for
+      an instant only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came to tell you a very different story,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and one which at
+      the moment seems to present insuperable difficulties. I can only show you
+      that I care for you by bringing trouble into your life&mdash;which is not
+      even original.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off with a little, puzzled laugh. For he did not know how best to
+      tell her that her brother was a scoundrel. He sat making idle holes in the
+      sand with his stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in a difficulty,&rdquo; he said at length&mdash;&ldquo;so great a difficulty
+      that there seems to be only one way out of it. You must forget what I have
+      told you to-day, for I never meant to tell you until afterwards, if ever.
+      Forget it for some months until the malgamite works have ceased to exist,
+      and then, if I have the good fortune to be given an opportunity, I will&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      paused&mdash;&ldquo;I will mention myself again,&rdquo; he concluded steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy's lips quivered, but she said nothing. It seemed that she was
+      content to accept his judgment without comment as superior to her own. For
+      the wisest woman is she who suspects that men are wiser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite clear,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;that the Malgamite scheme is a fraud.
+      It is worse than that; it is a murderous fraud. For Von Holzen's new
+      system of making malgamite is not new at all, but an old system revived,
+      which was set aside many years ago as too deadly. If it is not this
+      identical system, it is a variation of it. They are producing the stuff
+      for almost nothing at the cost of men's lives. In plain English, it is
+      murder, and it must be stopped at any cost. You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must stop it whatever it may cost me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to the works to-night to have it out with Von Holzen and your
+      brother. It is impossible to say how matters really stand&mdash;how much
+      your brother knows, I mean&mdash;for Von Holzen is clever. He is a cold,
+      calculating man, who rules all who come near him. Your brother has only to
+      do with the money part of it. They are making a great fortune. I am told
+      that financially it is splendidly managed. I am a duffer at such things,
+      but I understand better now how it has all been done, and I see how clever
+      it is. They produce the stuff for almost nothing, they sell it at a great
+      price, and they have a monopoly. And the world thinks it is a charity. It
+      is not; it is murder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke quietly, tapping the ground with his stick, and emphasizing his
+      words with a deeper thrust into the sand. The habit of touching life
+      lightly had become second nature with him, and even now he did not seem
+      quite serious. He was, at all events, free from that deadly earnestness
+      which blinds the eye to all save one side of a question. The very soil
+      that he tapped could have risen up to speak in favour of such as he; for
+      William the Silent, it is said, loved a jest, and never seemed to be quite
+      serious during the long years of the greatest struggle the modern world
+      has seen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems probable,&rdquo; went on Cornish, &ldquo;that your brother has been
+      gradually drawn into it; that he did not know when he first joined Von
+      Holzen what the thing really was&mdash;the system of manufacture, I mean.
+      As for the financial side of it, I am afraid he must have known of that
+      all along; but the older one gets the less desirous one is of judging
+      one's neighbour. In financial matters so much seems to depend, in the
+      formation of a judgment, whether one is a loser or a gainer by the
+      transaction. There is a great fortune in malgamite, and a fortune is a
+      temptation to be avoided. Others besides your brother have been tempted. I
+      should probably have succumbed myself if it had not been&mdash;for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled again in a sort of derision; as if she could have told him more
+      about himself than he could tell her. He saw the smile, and it brought a
+      flash of light to his eyes. Deeper than fear of damnation, higher than the
+      creeds, stronger than any motive in a man's life, is the absolute
+      confidence placed in him by a woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went into the thing thoughtlessly,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;because it was the
+      fashion at the time to be concerned in some large charity. And I am not
+      sorry. It was the luckiest move I ever made. And now the thing will have
+      to be gone through with, and there will be trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he laughed as he spoke; for there was no trouble in their hearts,
+      neither could anything appall them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX. DANGER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Beware equally of a sudden friend and a slow enemy.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Roden and Von Holzen were at work in the little office of the malgamite
+      works. The sun had just set, and the soft pearly twilight was creeping
+      over the sand hills. The day's work was over, and the factories were all
+      locked up for the night. In the stillness that seems to settle over earth
+      and sea at sunset, the sound of the little waves could be heard&mdash;a
+      distant, constant babbling from the west. The workers had gone to their
+      huts. They were not a noisy body of men. It was their custom to creep
+      quietly home when their work was done, and to sit in their doorways if the
+      evening was warm, or with closed doors if the north wind was astir, and
+      silently, steadily assuage their deadly thirst. Those who sought to
+      harvest their days, who fondly imagined they were going to make a fight
+      for it, drank milk according to advice handed down to them from their
+      sickly forefathers. The others, more reckless, or wiser, perhaps, in their
+      brief generation, took stronger drink to make glad their hearts and for
+      their many infirmities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had merely to ask, and that which they asked for was given to them
+      without comment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Uncle Ben to the new-comers, &ldquo;you has a slap-up time&mdash;while
+      it lasts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Uncle Ben was a strong man, and waxed garrulous in his cups. He had
+      made malgamite all his life and nothing would kill him, not even drink.
+      Von Holzen watched Uncle Ben, and did not like him. It was Uncle Ben who
+      played the concertina at the door of his hut in the evening. He sprang
+      from the class whose soul takes delight in the music of a concertina, and
+      rises on bank holidays to that height of gaiety which can only be
+      expressed by an interchange of hats. He came from the slums of London,
+      where they breed a race of men, small, ill-formed, disease-stricken, hard
+      to kill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The north wind was blowing this evening, and the huts were all closed. The
+      sound of Uncle Ben's concertina could be dimly heard in what purported to
+      be a popular air&mdash;a sort of nightmare of a tune such as a
+      barrel-organist must suffer after bad beer. Otherwise, there was nothing
+      stirring within the enclosure. There was, indeed, a hush over the whole
+      place, such as Nature sometimes lays over certain spots like a quiet veil,
+      as one might lay a cloth over the result of an accident, and say, &ldquo;There
+      is something wrong here; go away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish, having tried the main entrance gate, found it locked, and no bell
+      with which to summon those within. He went round to the northern end of
+      the enclosure, where the sand had drifted against the high corrugated iron
+      fencing, and where there were empty barrels on the inner side, as Uncle
+      Ben had told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I am a managing director of this concern,&rdquo; said Cornish to
+      himself, with a grim laugh, as he clambered over the fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked down the row of huts very slowly. Some of them were empty. The
+      door of one stood ajar, and a sudden smell of disinfectant made him stop
+      and look in. There was something lying on a bed covered by a grimy sheet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;m,&rdquo; muttered Cornish, and walked on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had been another visitor to the malgamite works that day. Then
+      Cornish paused for a moment near Uncle Ben's hut, and listened to
+      &ldquo;Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay.&rdquo; He bit his lips, restraining a sudden desire to
+      laugh without any mirth in his heart, and went towards Von Holzen's
+      office, where a light gleamed through the ill-closed curtains. For these
+      men were working night and day now&mdash;making their fortunes. He caught,
+      as he passed the window, a glimpse of Roden bending over a great ledger
+      which lay open before him on the table, while Von Holzen, at another desk,
+      was writing letters in his neat German hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Cornish went to the door, opened it, and passing in, closed it behind
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; he said, with just a slight exaggeration of his usual
+      suave politeness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Halloa!&rdquo; exclaimed Roden, with a startled look, and instinctively closing
+      his ledger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked hastily towards Von Holzen, who turned, pen in hand. Von Holzen
+      bowed rather coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; he answered, without looking at Roden. Indeed, he crossed
+      the room, and placed himself in front of his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just come across?&rdquo; inquired Roden, putting together his papers with his
+      usual leisureliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have been here some time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned and met Von Holzen's eyes with a ready audacity. He was not
+      afraid of this silent scientist, and had been trained in a social world
+      where nerve and daring are highly cultivated. Von Holzen looked at him
+      with a measuring eye, and remembered some warning words spoken by Roden
+      months before. This was a cleverer man than they had thought him. This was
+      the one mistake they had made in their careful scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been looking into things,&rdquo; said Cornish, in a final voice. He took
+      off his hat and laid it aside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen went slowly back to his desk, which was a high one. He stood
+      there close by Roden, leaning his elbow on the letters that he had been
+      writing. The two men were thus together facing Cornish, who stood at the
+      other side of the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been looking into things,&rdquo; he repeated, &ldquo;and&mdash;the game is
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, whose face was quite colourless, shrugged his shoulders with a
+      sneering smile. Von Holzen slowly moistened his lips, and Cornish, meeting
+      his glance, felt his heart leap upward to his throat. His way had been the
+      way of peace. He had never seen that look in a man's eyes before, but
+      there was no mistaking it. There are two things that none can mistake&mdash;an
+      earthquake, and murder shining in a man's eyes. But there was good blood
+      in Cornish's veins, and good blood never fails. His muscles tightened, and
+      he smiled in Von Holzen's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you were over in London a fortnight ago,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you saw my
+      uncle, and squared him. But I am not Lord Ferriby, and I am not to be
+      squared. As to the financial part of this business&rdquo;&mdash;he paused, and
+      glanced at the ledgers&mdash;&ldquo;that seems to be of secondary importance at
+      the moment. Besides, I do not understand finance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's tired eyes flickered at the way in which the word was spoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I propose to deal with the more vital questions,&rdquo; Cornish continued,
+      looking straight at Von Holzen. &ldquo;I want details of the new process&mdash;the
+      prescription, in fact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you want much,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, with his slight accent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I want more than that,&rdquo; was the retort; &ldquo;I want a list of your deaths&mdash;not
+      necessarily for publication. If the public were to hear of it, they would
+      pull the place down about your ears, and probably hang you on your own
+      water-tower.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen laughed. &ldquo;Ah, my fine gentleman, if there is any hanging up to
+      be done, you are in it, too,&rdquo; he said. Then he broke into a good-humoured
+      laugh, and waved the question aside with his hand. &ldquo;But why should we
+      quarrel? It is mere foolishness. We are not schoolboys, but men of the
+      world, who are reasonable, I hope. I cannot give you the prescription
+      because it is a trade secret. You would not understand it without expert
+      assistance, and the expert would turn his knowledge to account. We
+      chemists, you see, do not trust each other. No; but I can make malgamite
+      here before your eyes&mdash;to show you that it is harmless&mdash;what?&rdquo;
+       He spoke easily, with a certain fascination of manner, as a man to whom
+      speech was easy enough&mdash;who was perhaps silent with a set purpose&mdash;because
+      silence is safe. &ldquo;But it is a long process,&rdquo; he added, holding up one
+      finger, &ldquo;I warn you. It will take me two hours. And you, who have perhaps
+      not dined, and this Roden, who is tired out&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Roden can go home&mdash;if he is tired,&rdquo; said Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Von Holzen, with outspread hands, &ldquo;it is as you like.
+      Will you have it now and here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;now and here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden was slowly folding away his papers and closing his books. He glanced
+      curiously at Von Holzen, as if he were displaying a hitherto unknown side
+      to his character. Von Holzen, too, was collecting the papers scattered on
+      his desk, with a patient air and a half-suppressed sigh of weariness, as
+      if he were entering upon a work of supererogation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to the deaths,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I can demonstrate that as we go along. You
+      will see where the dangers lie, and how criminally neglectful these people
+      are. It is a curious thing, that carelessness of life. I am told the
+      Russian soldiers have it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It seemed that in his way Herr von Holzen was a philosopher, having in his
+      mind a store of odd human items. He certainly had the power of arousing
+      curiosity and making his hearers wish him to continue speaking, which is
+      rare. Most men are uninteresting because they talk too much.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I think I will go,&rdquo; said Roden, rising. He looked from one to the
+      other, and received no answer. &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; he added, and walked to the
+      door with dragging feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; said Cornish. And he was left alone for the first time in
+      his life with Von Holzen, who was clearing the table and making his
+      preparations with a silent deftness of touch acquired by the handling of
+      delicate instruments, the mixing of dangerous drugs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then our good friend Lord Ferriby does not know that you are here?&rdquo; he
+      inquired, without much interest, as if acknowledging the necessity of
+      conversation of some sort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I have shown you this experiment,&rdquo; pursued Von Holzen, setting the
+      lamp on a side-table, &ldquo;we must have a little talk about his lordship. With
+      all modesty, you and I have the clearest heads of all concerned in this
+      invention.&rdquo; He looked at Cornish with his sudden, pleasant smile. &ldquo;You
+      will excuse me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if while I am doing this I do not talk much. It
+      is a difficult thing to keep in one's head, and all the attention is
+      required in order to avoid a mistake or a mishap.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had already assumed an air of unconscious command, which was probably
+      habitual with him, as if there were no question between them as to who was
+      the stronger man. Cornish sat, pleasantly silent and acquiescent, but he
+      felt in no way dominated. It is one thing to assume authority, and another
+      to possess it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a little laboratory in the factory where I usually work, but not
+      at night. We do not allow lights in there. Excuse me, I will fetch my
+      crucible and lamp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he went out, leaving Cornish alone. There was only one door to the
+      room, leading straight out into the open. The office, it appeared, was
+      built in the form of an annex to one of the storehouses, which stood
+      detached from all other buildings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes Von Holzen returned, laden with bottles and jars. One
+      large wicker-covered bottle with a screw top he set carefully on the
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had to find them in the dark,&rdquo; he explained absent-mindedly, as if his
+      thoughts were all absorbed by the work in hand. &ldquo;And one must be careful
+      not to jar or break any of these. Please do not touch them in my absence.&rdquo;
+       As he spoke, he again examined the stoppers to see that all was secure. &ldquo;I
+      come again,&rdquo; he said, making sure that the large basket-covered bottle was
+      safe. Then he walked quickly out of the room and closed the door behind
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Almost immediately Cornish was conscious of a bitter taste in his mouth,
+      though he could smell nothing. The lamp suddenly burnt blue and instantly
+      went out.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Cornish stood up, groping in the dark, his head swimming, a deadly
+numbness dragging at his limbs. He had no pain, only a strange
+sensation of being drawn upwards. Then his head bumped against the
+door, and the remaining glimmer of consciousness shaped itself into the
+knowledge that this was death. He seemed to swing backwards and
+forwards between life and death&mdash;between sleep and consciousness. Then
+he felt a cooler air on his lips. He had fallen against the door, which
+did not fit against the threshold, and a draught of fresh air whistled
+through upon his face. &ldquo;Carbonic acid gas,&rdquo; he muttered, with shaking
+lips. &ldquo;Carbonic acid gas.&rdquo; He repeated the words over and over again,
+as a man in delirium repeats that which has fixed itself in his
+wandering brain. Then, with a great effort, he brought himself to
+understand the meaning of the words that one portion of his brain kept
+repeating to the other portion which could not comprehend them. He
+tried to recollect all that he knew of carbonic acid gas, which was, in
+fact, not much. He vaguely remembered that it is not an active gas that
+mingles with the air and spreads, but rather it lurks in corners&mdash;an
+invisible form of death&mdash;and will so lurk for years unless disturbed
+by a current of air.
+
+ Cornish knew that in falling he had fallen out of the radius of the
+escaping gas, which probably filled the upper part of the room. If he
+raised himself, he would raise himself into the gas, which was slowly
+descending upon him, and that would mean instant death. He had already
+inhaled enough&mdash;perhaps too much. He lay quite still, breathing the
+draught between the door and the threshold, and raising his left hand,
+felt for the handle of the door. He found it and turned it. The door
+was locked. He lay still, and his brain began to wander, but with an
+effort he kept a hold upon his thoughts. He was a strong man, who had
+never had a bad illness&mdash;a cool head and an intrepid heart.
+Stretching out his legs, he found some object close to him. It was Von
+Holzen's desk, which stood on four strong legs against the wall.
+Cornish, who was quick and observant, remembered now how the room was
+shaped and furnished. He gathered himself together, drew in his legs,
+and doubled himself, with his feet against the desk, his shoulder
+against the door. He was long and lithe, of a steely strength which he
+had never tried. He now slowly straightened himself, and tore the
+screws out of the solid wood of the door, which remained hanging by the
+upper hinge. His head and shoulders were now out in the open air.
+He lay for a moment or two to regain his breath, and recover from the
+deadly nausea that follows gas poisoning. Then he rose to his feet, and
+stood swaying like a drunken man. Von Holzen's cottage was a few yards
+away. A light was burning there, and gleamed through the cracks of the
+curtains.
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish went towards the cottage, then paused. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he muttered, holding
+      his head with both hands. &ldquo;It will keep.&rdquo; And he staggered away in the
+      darkness towards the corner where the empty barrels stood against the
+      fence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX. FROM THE PAST.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;One and one with a shadowy third.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the air, <i>mon ami</i>, of a malgamiter,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart,
+      looking into Cornish's face&mdash;&ldquo;lurking here in your little inn in a
+      back street! Why do you not go to one of the larger hotels in
+      Scheveningen, since you have abandoned The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because the larger hotels are not open yet,&rdquo; replied Cornish, bringing
+      forward a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is true, now that I think of it. But I did not ask the question
+      wanting an answer. You, who have been in the world, should know women
+      better than to think that. I asked in idleness&mdash;a woman's trick. Yes;
+      you have been or you are ill. There is a white look in your face.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat looking at him. She had walked all the way from Park Straat in the
+      shade of the trees&mdash;quite a pedestrian feat for one who confessed to
+      belonging to a carriage generation. She had boldly entered the restaurant
+      of the little hotel, and had told the waiter to take her to Mr. Cornish's
+      apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It hardly matters what a very young waiter, at the beginning of his
+      career, may think of us. But downstairs they are rather scandalized, I
+      warn you,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I ceased explaining many years ago,&rdquo; replied Cornish, &ldquo;even in
+      English. More suspicion is aroused by explanation than by silence. For
+      this wise world will not believe that one is telling the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is not,&rdquo; suggested Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one is not,&rdquo; admitted Cornish, in rather a tired voice, which, to so
+      keen an ear as that of his hearer, was as good as asking her why she had
+      come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are not inclined to sit and talk
+      nonsense at this time in the morning. No more am I. I did not walk from
+      Park Straat and take your defences by storm, and subject myself to the
+      insult of a raised eyebrow on the countenance of a foolish young waiter,
+      to talk nonsense even with you, who are cleverer with your non-committing
+      platitudes than any man I know.&rdquo; She laughed rather harshly, as many do
+      when they find themselves suddenly within hail, as it were, of that
+      weakness which is called feeling. &ldquo;No, I came here on&mdash;let us say&mdash;business.
+      I hold a good card, and I am going to play it. I want you to hold your
+      hand in the mean time; give me to-day, you understand. I have taken great
+      care to strengthen my hand. This is no sudden impulse, but a set purpose
+      to which I have led up for some weeks. It is not scrupulous; it is not
+      even honest. It is, in a word, essentially feminine, and not an affair to
+      which you as a man could lend a moment's approval. Therefore, I tell you
+      nothing. I merely ask you to leave me an open field to-day. Our end is the
+      same, though our methods and our purpose differ as much as&mdash;well, as
+      much as our minds. You want to break this Malgamite corner. I want to
+      break Otto von Holzen. You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had known her long enough to permit himself to nod and say
+      nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I succeed, <i>tant mieux</i>. If I fail, it is no concern of yours,
+      and it will in no way affect you or your plans. Ah, you disapprove, I see.
+      What a complicated world this would be if we could all wear masks! Your
+      face used to be a safer one than it is now. Can it be that you are
+      becoming serious&mdash;<i>un jeune homme sérieux?</i> Heaven save you from
+      that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I have a headache; that is all,&rdquo; laughed Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was slowly unbuttoning and rebuttoning her glove, deep in
+      thought. For some women can think deeply and talk superficially at the
+      same moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; she said, with a sudden change of voice and manner, &ldquo;I have
+      a conviction that you know something to-day of which you were ignorant
+      yesterday? All knowledge, I suppose, leaves its mark. Something about Otto
+      von Holzen, I suspect. Ah, Tony, if you know something, tell it to me. If
+      you hold a strong card, let me play it. You do not know how I have longed
+      and waited&mdash;what a miserable little hand I hold against this strong
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was serious enough now. Her voice had a ring of hopelessness in it, as
+      if she knew that limit against which a woman is fated to throw herself
+      when she tries to injure a man who has no love for her. If the love be
+      there, then is she strong, indeed; but without it, what can she do? It is
+      the little more that is so much, and the little less that is such worlds
+      away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish did not deny the knowledge which she ascribed to him, but merely
+      shook his head, and Mrs. Vansittart suddenly changed her manner again. She
+      was quick and clever enough to know that whatever account stood open
+      between Cornish and Von Holzen the reckoning must be between them alone,
+      without the help of any woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will remain indoors,&rdquo; she said, rising, &ldquo;and recover from your
+      ... strange headache&mdash;and not go near the malgamite works, nor see
+      Percy Roden or Otto von Holzen&mdash;and let me have my little try&mdash;that
+      is all I ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, reluctantly; &ldquo;but I think you would be wiser to
+      leave Von Holzen to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, with one of her quick glances. &ldquo;You think
+      that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused on the threshold, then shrugged her shoulders and passed out.
+      She hurried home, and there wrote a note to Percy Roden.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;DEAR MR. RODEN,
+    </h3>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems a long time since I saw you last, though perhaps it only seems
+      so to <i>me</i>. I shall be at home at five o'clock this evening, if you
+      care to take pity on a lonely countrywoman. If I should be out riding when
+      you come, please await my return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yours very truly,
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;EDITH VANSITTART.&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      She closed the letter with a little cruel smile, and despatched it by the
+      hand of a servant. Quite early in the afternoon she put on her habit, but
+      did not go straight downstairs, although her horse was at the door. She
+      went to the library instead&mdash;a small, large-windowed room, looking on
+      to Oranje Straat. From a drawer in her writing-table she took a key, and
+      examined it closely before slipping it into her pocket. It was a new key
+      with the file-marks still upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A clumsy expedient,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But the end is so desirable that the
+      means must not be too scrupulously considered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rode down Kazerne Straat and through the wood by the Leyden Road. By
+      turning to the left, she soon made her way to the East Dunes, and thus
+      describing a circle, rode slowly back towards Scheveningen. She knew her
+      way, it appeared, to the malgamite works. Leaving her horse in the care of
+      the groom, she walked to the gate of the works, which was opened to her by
+      the doorkeeper, after some hesitation. The man was a German, and
+      therefore, perhaps, more amenable to Mrs. Vansittart's imperious
+      arguments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must see Herr von Holzen without delay,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Show me his
+      office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man pointed out the building. &ldquo;But the Herr Professor is in the
+      factory,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is mixing-day to-day. I will, however, fetch him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart walked slowly towards the office where Roden had told her
+      that the safe stood wherein the prescription and other papers were
+      secured. She knew it was mixing-day and that Von Holzen would be in the
+      factory. She had sent Roden on a fool's errand to Park Straat to await her
+      return there. Was she going to succeed? Would she be left alone for a few
+      moments in that little office with the safe? She fingered the key in her
+      pocket&mdash;a duplicate obtained at some risk, with infinite difficulty,
+      by the simple stratagem of borrowing Roden's keys to open an old and
+      disused desk one evening in Park Straat. She had conceived the plan
+      herself, had carried it out herself, as all must who wish to succeed in a
+      human design. She was quite aware that the plan was crude and almost
+      childish, but the gain was great, and it is often the simplest means that
+      succeed. The secret of the manufacture of malgamite&mdash;written in black
+      and white&mdash;might prove to be Von Holzen's death-warrant. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had to fight in her own way or not fight at all. She could not
+      understand the slower, surer methods of Mr. Wade and Cornish, who appeared
+      to be waiting and wasting time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The German doorkeeper accompanied her to the office, and opened the door
+      after knocking and receiving no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will the high-born take a seat?&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I shall not be long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no need to hurry,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And before the door was quite closed she was on her feet again. The office
+      was bare and orderly. Even the waste-paper baskets were empty. The books
+      were locked away and the desks were clear. But the small green safe stood
+      in the corner. Mrs. Vansittart went towards it, key in hand. The key was
+      the right one. It had only been selected by guesswork among a number on
+      Roden's bunch. It slipped into the lock and turned smoothly, but the door
+      would not move. She tugged and wrenched at the handle, then turned it
+      accidentally, and the heavy door swung open. There were two drawers at the
+      bottom of the safe which were not locked, and contained neatly folded
+      papers. Her fingers were among these in a moment. The papers were folded
+      and tied together. Many of the bundles were labelled. A long narrow
+      envelope lay at the bottom of the drawer. She seized it quickly and turned
+      it over. It bore no address nor any superscription. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said
+      breathlessly, and slipped her finger within the flap of the envelope. Then
+      she hesitated for a moment, and turned on her heel. Von Holzen was
+      standing in the doorway looking at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Mrs. Vansittart's lips
+      were drawn back, showing her even, white teeth. Von Holzen's quiet eyes
+      were wide open, so that the white showed all around the dark pupil. Then
+      he sprang at her without a word. She was a lithe, strong woman, taller
+      than he, or else she would have fallen. Instead, she stood her ground, and
+      he, failing to get a grasp at her wrist, stumbled sideways against the
+      table. In a moment she had run round it, and again they stared at each
+      other, without a word, across the table where Percy Roden kept the books
+      of the malgamite works.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A slow smile came to Von Holzen's face, which was colourless always, and
+      now a sort of grey. He turned on his heel, walked to the door, and,
+      locking it, slipped the key into his pocket. Then he returned to Mrs.
+      Vansittart. Neither spoke. No explanation was at that moment necessary. He
+      lifted the table bodily, and set it aside against the wall. Then he went
+      slowly towards her, holding out his hand for the unaddressed envelope,
+      which she held behind her back. He stood for a moment holding out his hand
+      while his strong will went out to meet hers. Then he sprang at her again
+      and seized her two wrists. The strength of his arms was enormous, for he
+      was a deep-chested man, and had been a gymnast. The struggle was a short
+      one, and Mrs. Vansittart dropped the envelope helplessly from her
+      paralyzed fingers. He picked it up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the wife of Karl Vansittart,&rdquo; he said in German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am his widow,&rdquo; she replied; and her breath caught, for she was still
+      shaken by the physical and moral realization of her absolute helplessness
+      in his hands, and she saw in a flash of thought the question in his mind
+      as to whether he could afford to let her leave the room alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me the key with which you opened the safe,&rdquo; he said coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had replaced the key in her pocket, and now sought it with a shaking
+      hand. She gave it to him without a word. Morally she would not acknowledge
+      herself beaten, and the bitterness of that moment was the self-contempt
+      with which she realized a physical cowardice which she had hitherto deemed
+      quite impossible. For the flesh is always surprised by its own weakness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen looked at the key critically, turning it over in order to
+      examine the workmanship. It was clumsily enough made, and he doubtless
+      guessed how she had obtained it. Then he glanced at her as she stood
+      breathless with a colourless face and compressed lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope I did not hurt you,&rdquo; he said quietly, thereby putting in a dim and
+      far-off claim to greatness, for it is hard not to triumph in absolute
+      victory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head with a twisted smile, and looked down at her hands,
+      which were still helpless. There were bands of bright red round the white
+      wrists. Her gloves lay on the table. She went towards them and numbly took
+      them up. He was impassive still, and his face, which had flushed a few
+      moments earlier, slowly regained its usual calm pallor. It was this very
+      calmness, perhaps, that suddenly incensed Mrs. Vansittart. Or it may have
+      been that she had regained her courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she cried, with a sort of break in her voice that made it strident&mdash;&ldquo;yes.
+      I am Karl Vansittart's wife, and I&mdash;cared for him. Do you know what
+      that means? But you can't. All that side of life is a closed book to such
+      as you. It means that if you had been a hundred times in the right and he
+      always in the wrong, I should still have believed in him and distrusted
+      you&mdash;should still have cared for him and hated you. But he was not
+      guilty. He was in the right and you were wrong&mdash;a thief and a
+      murderer, no doubt. And to screen your paltry name, you sacrificed Karl
+      and the happiness of two people who had just begun to be happy. It means
+      that I shall not rest until I have made you pay for what you have done. I
+      have never lost sight of you&mdash;and never shall&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She paused, and looked at his impassive face with a strange, dull
+      curiosity as she spoke of the future, as if wondering whether she had a
+      future or had reached the end of her life&mdash;here, at this moment, in
+      the little plank-walled office of the malgamite works. But her courage
+      rose steadily. It is only afar off that Death is terrible. When we
+      actually stand in his presence, we usually hold up our heads and face him
+      quietly enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have other enemies,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;I know you have&mdash;men,
+      too&mdash;but none of them will last so long as I shall, none of them is
+      to be feared as I am&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped again in a fury, for he was obviously waiting for her to pause
+      for mere want of breath, as if her words could be of no weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you fear anything on earth,&rdquo; she said, acknowledging is one merit
+      despite herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear you so little,&rdquo; he answered, going to the door and unlocking it,
+      &ldquo;that you may go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her whip lay on the table. He picked it up and handed it to her, gravely,
+      without a bow, without a shade of triumph or the smallest suspicion of
+      sarcasm. There was perhaps the nucleus of a great man in Otto von Holzen,
+      after all, for there was no smallness in his mind. He opened the door, and
+      stood aside for her to pass out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not because you do not fear me&mdash;that you let me go,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+      Vansittart. &ldquo;But&mdash;because you are afraid of Tony Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And she went out, wondering whether the shot had told or missed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI. A COMBINED FORCE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Hear, but be faithful to your interest still.
+      Secure your heart, then fool with whom you will.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart walked to the gate of the malgamite works, thinking that
+      Von Holzen was following her on the noiseless sand. At the gate, which the
+      porter threw open on seeing her approach, she turned and found that she
+      was alone. Von Holzen was walking quietly back towards the factory. He was
+      so busy making his fortune that he could not give Mrs. Vansittart more
+      than a few minutes. She bit her lip as she went towards her horse. Neglect
+      is no balm to the wounds of the defeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She mounted her horse and looked at her watch. It was nearly five o'clock,
+      and Percy Roden was doubtless waiting for her in Park Straat. It is a
+      woman's business to know what is expected of her. Mrs. Vansittart recalled
+      in a very matter-of-fact way the wording of her letter to Roden. She
+      brushed some dust from her habit, and made sure that her hair was tidy.
+      Then she fell into deep thought, and set her mind in a like order for the
+      work that lay before her. A man's deepest schemes in love are child's play
+      beside the woman's schemes that meet or frustrate his own. Mrs. Vansittart
+      rode rapidly home to Park Straat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Roden, the servant told her, was awaiting her return in the
+      drawing-room. She walked slowly upstairs. Some victories are only to be
+      won with arms that hurt the bearer. Mrs. Vansittart's mind was warped, or
+      she must have known that she was going to pay too dearly for her revenge.
+      She was sacrificing invaluable memories to a paltry hatred.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said to Roden, whose manner betrayed the recollection of her
+      invitation to him, &ldquo;so I have kept you waiting&mdash;a minute, perhaps,
+      for each day that you have stayed away from Park Straat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden laughed, with a shade of embarrassment, which she was quick to
+      detect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it your sister,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;who has induced you to stay away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothy has nothing but good to say of you,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is Herr von Holzen,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, laying aside her
+      gloves and turning towards the tea-table. She spoke quietly and rather
+      indifferently, as one does of persons who are removed by a social grade.
+      &ldquo;I have never told you, I believe, that I happen to know something of your&mdash;what
+      is he?&mdash;your foreman. He has probably warned you against me. My
+      husband once employed this Von Holzen, and was, I believe, robbed by him.
+      We never knew the man socially, and I have always suspected that he bore
+      us some ill feeling on that account. You remember&mdash;in this room, when
+      you brought him to call soon after your works were built&mdash;that he
+      referred to having met my husband. Doubtless with a view to finding out
+      how much I knew, or if I was in reality the wife of Charles Vansittart.
+      But I did not choose to enlighten him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had poured out tea while she spoke. Her hands were unsteady still, and
+      she drew down the sleeve of her habit to hide the discoloration of her
+      wrist. She turned rather suddenly, and saw on Roden's face the confession
+      that it had been due to Von Holzen's influence that he had absented
+      himself from her drawing-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; she said, with a little laugh, and in a final voice, as if
+      dismissing a subject of small importance&mdash;&ldquo;however, I suppose Herr
+      von Holzen is rising in the world, and has the sensitive vanity of persons
+      in that trying condition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down slowly, remembering her pretty figure in its smart habit.
+      Roden's slow eyes noted the pretty figure also, which she observed, one
+      may be sure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me your news,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You look tired and ill. It is hard work
+      making one's fortune. Be sure that you know what you want to buy before
+      you make it, or afterwards you may find that it has not been worth while
+      to have worked so hard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps what I want is not to be bought,&rdquo; he said, with his eyes on the
+      carpet. For he was an awkward player at this light game.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Then it must be either worthless or priceless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her, but he did not speak, and those who are quick to detect
+      the fleeting shade of pathos might have seen it in the glance of the tired
+      eyes. For Percy Roden was only clever as a financier, and women have no
+      use for such cleverness, only for the results of it. Roden was conscious
+      of making no progress with Mrs. Vansittart, who handled him as a cat
+      handles a disabled mouse while watching another hole.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been busier than ever, I suppose,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;since you have had
+      no time to remember your friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden, brightening. He was so absorbed in the most
+      absorbing and lasting employment of which the human understanding is
+      capable that he could talk of little else, even to Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;Yes,
+      we have been very busy, and are turning out nearly ten tons a day now. And
+      we have had trouble from a quarter in which we did not expect it. Von
+      Holzen has been much worried, I know, though he never says anything. He
+      may not be a gentleman, Mrs. Vansittart, but he is a wonderful man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, indifferently; and something in her manner
+      made him all the more desirous of explaining his reasons for associating
+      himself with a person who, as she had subtly and flatteringly hinted more
+      than once, was far beneath him from a social point of view. This desire
+      rendered him less guarded than it was perhaps wise to be under the
+      circumstances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he is a very clever man&mdash;a genius, I think. He rises to each
+      difficulty without any effort, and every day shows me new evidence of his
+      foresight. He has done more than you think in the malgamite works. His
+      share of the work has been greater than anybody knows. I am only the
+      financier, you understand. I know about bookkeeping and about&mdash;money&mdash;how
+      it should be handled&mdash;that is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too modest, I think,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, gravely. &ldquo;You forget
+      that the scheme was yours; you forget all that you did in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;while Von Holzen was doing more here. He had the more difficult
+      task to perform. Of course I did my share in getting the thing up. It
+      would be foolish to deny that. I suppose I have a head on my shoulders,
+      like other people.&rdquo; And Mr. Percy Roden, with his hand at his moustache,
+      smiled a somewhat fatuous smile. He thought, perhaps, that a woman will
+      love a man the more for being a good man of business.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I should like Von Holzen to have his due,&rdquo; said Roden, rather
+      grandly. &ldquo;He has done wonders, and no one quite realizes that except
+      perhaps Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed! Does Mr. Cornish give Herr von Holzen his due, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cornish does his best to upset Von Holzen's plans at every turn. He does
+      not understand business at all. When that sort of man goes into business
+      he invariably gets into trouble. He has what I suppose he calls scruples.
+      It comes, I imagine, from not having been brought up to it.&rdquo; Roden spoke
+      rather hotly. He was of a jealous disposition, and disliked Mrs.
+      Vansittart's attitude towards Cornish. &ldquo;But he is no match for Von
+      Holzen,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;as he will find to his cost. Von Holzen is not the
+      sort of man to stand any kind of interference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah?&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart again, in the slightly questioning and
+      indifferent manner with which she received all defence of Otto von Holzen,
+      and which had the effect of urging Roden to further explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not a man I should care to cross myself,&rdquo; he said, determined to
+      secure Mrs. Vansittart's full attention. &ldquo;He has the whole of the
+      malgamiters at his beck and call, and is pretty powerful, I can tell you.
+      They are a desperate set of fellows; men engaged in a dangerous industry
+      do not wear kid gloves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was watching him across the low tea-table; for Roden
+      rarely looked at his interlocutor. He had more of her attention than he
+      perhaps suspected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, rather more indifferently than before, &ldquo;I think you
+      exaggerate Herr von Holzen's importance in the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not exaggerate the danger into which Cornish will run if he is not
+      careful,&rdquo; retorted Roden, half sullenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a ring of anxiety in his voice. Mrs. Vansittart glanced sharply
+      at him. It was borne in upon her that Roden himself was afraid of Von
+      Holzen. This was more serious than it had at first appeared. There are
+      periods in every man's history when human affairs suddenly appear to
+      become unmanageable and the course of events gets beyond any sort of
+      control&mdash;when the hand at the helm falters, and even the managing
+      female of the family hesitates to act. Roden seemed to have reached such a
+      crisis now, and Mrs. Vansittart; charm she never so wisely, could not
+      brush the frown of anxiety from his brow. He was in no mood for
+      love-making, and men cannot call up this fleeting humour, as a woman can,
+      when it is wanted. So they sat and talked of many things, both glancing at
+      the clock with a surreptitious eye. They were not the first man and woman
+      to go hunting Cupid with the best will in the world&mdash;only to draw a
+      blank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length Roden rose from his chair with slow, lazy movements. Physically
+      and morally he seemed to want tightening up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go back to the works,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We work late to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then do not tell Herr von Holzen where you have been,&rdquo; replied Mrs.
+      Vansittart, with a warning smile. Then, on the threshold, with a gravity
+      and a glance that sent him away happy, she added, &ldquo;I do not want you to
+      discuss me with Otto von Holzen, you understand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood with her hand on the bell, looking at the clock, while he went
+      downstairs. The moment she heard the street door closed behind him she
+      rang sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The brougham,&rdquo; she said to the servant, &ldquo;at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa des
+      Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely obscuring
+      the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight. Indeed, nature itself
+      appeared to be deceived, and as the carriage left the town behind and
+      emerged into the sandy quiet of the suburbs, the countless sparrows in the
+      lime-trees were preparing for the night. The trees themselves were
+      shedding an evening odour, while, from canal and dyke and ditch, there
+      arose that subtle smell of damp weed and grass which hangs over the whole
+      of Holland all night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The place smells of calamity,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to herself, as she
+      quitted the carriage and walked quickly along the sandy path to the Villa
+      des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy was in the garden, and, seeing her, came to the gate. Mrs.
+      Vansittart had changed her riding-habit for one of the dark silks she
+      usually wore, but she had forgotten to put on any gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said rapidly, taking Dorothy's hand, and holding it&mdash;&ldquo;come
+      to the seat at the end of the garden where we sat one evening when we
+      dined alone together. I do not want to go indoors. I am nervous, I
+      suppose. I have allowed myself to give way to panic like a child in the
+      dark. I felt lonely in Park Straat, with a house full of servants, so I
+      came to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think there is going to be a thunderstorm,&rdquo; said Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mrs. Vansittart broke into a sudden laugh. &ldquo;I knew you would say that.
+      Because you are modern and practical&mdash;or, at all events, you show a
+      practical face to the world, which is better. Yes, one may say that much
+      for the modern girl, at all events&mdash;she keeps her head. As to her
+      heart&mdash;well, perhaps she has not got one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; admitted Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They had reached the seat now, and sat down beneath the branches of a
+      weeping-willow, trimly trained in the accurate Dutch fashion. Mrs.
+      Vansittart glanced at her companion, and gave a little, low, wise laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did well to come to you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;for you have not many words. You
+      have a sense of humour&mdash;that saving sense which so few people possess&mdash;and
+      I suspect you to be a person of action. I came in a panic, which is still
+      there, but in a modified degree. One is always more nervous for one's
+      friends than for one's self. Is it not so? It is for Tony Cornish that I
+      fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy looked steadily straight in front of her, and there was a short
+      silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know why he stays in Holland, and I wish he would go home,&rdquo;
+       continued Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;It is unreasoning, I know, and foolish, but I
+      am convinced that he is running into danger.&rdquo; She stopped suddenly, and
+      laid her hand upon Dorothy's; for she had caught many foreign ways and
+      gestures. &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; she said, in a lower tone. &ldquo;It is useless for you and
+      me to mince matters. The Malgamite scheme is a terrible crime, and Tony
+      Cornish means to stop it. Surely you and I have long suspected that. I
+      know Otto von Holzen. He killed my husband. He is a most dangerous man. He
+      is attempting to frighten Tony Cornish away from here, and he does not
+      understand the sort of person he is dealing with. One does not frighten
+      persons of the stamp of Tony Cornish, whether man or woman. I have made
+      Tony promise not to leave his room to-day. For to-morrow I cannot answer.
+      You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with a sudden light in her eyes, &ldquo;I understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother must take care of himself. I care nothing for Lord Ferriby,
+      or any others concerned in this, but only for Tony Cornish, for whom I
+      have an affection, for he was part of my past life&mdash;when I was happy.
+      As for the malgamiters, they and their works may&mdash;go hang!&rdquo; And Mrs.
+      Vansittart snapped her fingers. &ldquo;Do you know Major White?&rdquo; she asked
+      suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I have seen him once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So have I&mdash;only once. But for a woman once is often enough&mdash;is
+      it not so?&mdash;to enable one to judge. I wish we had him here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is coming,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;I think he is coming to-morrow. When I
+      saw Mr. Cornish yesterday, he told me that he expected him. I believe he
+      wrote for him to come. He also wrote to Mr. Wade, the banker, asking him
+      to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he found things worse than he expected. He has, in a sense, sent for
+      reinforcements. When does Major White arrive&mdash;in the morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; not till the evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he comes by Flushing,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, practically. &ldquo;You are
+      thinking of something. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;I was wondering how I could see some of the malgamite workers
+to-morrow. I know some of them, and it is from them that the danger may
+be expected. They are easily led, and Herr von Holzen would not scruple
+to make use of them.&rdquo;
+
+ &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;you have guessed that, too. I have more
+than guessed it&mdash;I know it. You must see these men to-morrow.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart rose and held out her hand. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I came to
+      the right person. You are calm, and keep your head; as to the other,
+      perhaps that is in safe-keeping too. Good night and come to lunch with me
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII. GRATITUDE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;On se guérit de la bienfaisance par la connaissance de ceux
+     qu'on oblige.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you tell me if there is a moon to-night?&rdquo; Mrs. Vansittart asked a
+      porter in the railway station at The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man stared at her for a moment, then realized that the question was a
+      serious one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ask one of the engine-drivers, my lady,&rdquo; he answered, with his
+      hand at the peak of his cap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was past nine o'clock, and Mrs. Vansittart had been waiting nearly half
+      an hour for the Flushing train. Her carriage was walking slowly up and
+      down beneath the glass roof of the entrance to the railway station. She
+      had taken a ticket in order to gain access to the platform, and was almost
+      alone there with the porters. Her glance travelled backwards and forwards
+      between the clock and the western sky, visible beneath the great arch of
+      the station. The evening was a clear one, for the month of June still
+      lingered, but the twilight was at hand. The Flushing train was late
+      to-night of all nights; and Mrs. Vansittart stamped her foot with
+      impatience. What was worse was Dorothy Roden's lateness. Dorothy and Mrs.
+      Vansittart, like two generals on the eve of a battle, had been exchanging
+      hurried notes all day; and Dorothy had promised to meet Mrs. Vansittart at
+      the station on the arrival of the train.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The moon is rising now, my lady&mdash;a half-moon,&rdquo; said the porter
+      approaching with that leisureliness which characterizes railway porters
+      between trains.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why does your stupid train not come?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, with
+      unreasoning anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been signalled, my lady; a few minutes now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart gave a quick sigh of relief, and turned on her heel. She
+      had long been unable to remain quietly in one place. She saw Dorothy
+      coming up the slope to the platform. At last matters were taking a turn
+      for the better&mdash;except, indeed, Dorothy's face, which was set and
+      white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found out something,&rdquo; she said at once, and speaking quickly but
+      steadily. &ldquo;It is for to-night, between half-past nine and ten.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had her watch in her hand, and compared it quickly with the station
+      clock as she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have secured Uncle Ben,&rdquo; she said&mdash;all the ridicule of the name
+      seemed to have vanished long ago. &ldquo;He is drunk, and therefore cunning. It
+      is only when he is sober that he is stupid. I have him in a cab
+      downstairs, and have told your man to watch him. I have been to Mr.
+      Cornish's rooms again, and he has not come in. He has not been in since
+      morning, and they do not know where he is. No one knows where he is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy's lip quivered for a moment, and she held it with her teeth. Mrs.
+      Vansittart touched her arm lightly with her gloved fingers&mdash;a
+      strange, quick, woman's gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went upstairs to his rooms,&rdquo; continued Dorothy. &ldquo;It is no good thinking
+      of etiquette now or pretending&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart, hurriedly, so that the sentence was never
+      finished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found nothing except two torn envelopes in the waste-paper basket. One
+      in an uneducated hand&mdash;perhaps feigned. The other was Otto von
+      Holzen's writing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! In Otto von Holzen's writing&mdash;addressed to Tony at the Zwaan at
+      Scheveningen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then Otto von Holzen knows where Tony is staying, at all events. We have
+      learnt something. You have kept the envelopes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They both turned at the rumble of the train outside the station. The great
+      engine came clanking in over the points, its lamp glaring like the eye of
+      some monster.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Provided Major White is in the train,&rdquo; muttered Mrs. Vansittart, tapping
+      on the pavement with her foot. &ldquo;If he is not in the train, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then we must go alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked her slowly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a brave woman,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Major White was in the train, being a man of his word in small things
+      as well as in great. They saw him pushing his way patiently through the
+      crowd of hotel porters and others who had advice or their services to
+      offer him. Then he saw Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy, and recognized them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give your luggage ticket to the hotel porter and let him take it straight
+      to the hotel. You are wanted elsewhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Major White was only in his normal condition of mild and patient
+      surprise. He had only met Mrs. Vansittart once, and Dorothy as often. He
+      did exactly as he was told without asking one of those hundred questions
+      which would inevitably have been asked by many men and more women under
+      such circumstances, and followed the ladies out of the crowd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We must talk here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;One cannot do so in a carriage
+      in the streets of The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White bowed gravely, and looked from one to the other. He was rather
+      travel-worn, and seemed to be feeling the heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony Cornish has probably written to you about his discoveries as to the
+      malgamite works. We have no time to go into that question, however,&rdquo; said
+      Mrs. Vansittart, who was already beginning to be impatient with this
+      placid man. &ldquo;He has earned the enmity of Otto von Holzen&mdash;a man who
+      will stop at nothing&mdash;and the malgamiters are being raised against
+      him by Von Holzen. Our information is very vague, but we are almost
+      certain that an attempt is to be made on Tony's life to-night between
+      half-past nine and ten. You understand?&rdquo; Mrs. Vansittart almost stamped
+      her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes,&rdquo; answered White, looking at the station clock. &ldquo;Twenty minutes'
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have the information from one of the malgamiters themselves, who knows
+      the time and the place, but he is tipsy. He is in a carriage outside the
+      station.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How tipsy?&rdquo; asked Major White; and both his hearers shrugged their
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can we tell you that?&rdquo; snapped Mrs. Vansittart; and Major White
+      dropped his glass from his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is your brother?&rdquo; he said, turning to Dorothy. He was evidently
+      rather afraid of Mrs. Vansittart, as a quick-spoken person not likely to
+      have patience with a slow man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone to Utrecht,&rdquo; answered Dorothy. &ldquo;And Mr. von Holzen is not at
+      the works, which are locked up. I have just come from there. By a lucky
+      chance I met this man Ben, and have brought him here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White looked at Dorothy thoughtfully, and something in his gaze made her
+      change colour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see this man,&rdquo; he said, moving towards the exit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is in that carriage,&rdquo; said Dorothy, when they had reached a quiet
+      corner of the station yard. &ldquo;You must be quick. We have only a quarter of
+      an hour now. He is an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White got into the cab with Uncle Ben, who appeared to be sleeping, and
+      closed the door after him. In a few moments he emerged again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell the man to drive to a chemist's,&rdquo; he said to Mrs. Vansittart. &ldquo;The
+      fellow is not so bad. I have got something out of him, and will get more.
+      Follow in your carriage&mdash;you and Miss Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Major White's turn now to take the lead, and Mrs. Vansittart meekly
+      obeyed, though White's movements were so leisurely as to madden her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the chemist's shop, White descended from the carriage and appeared to
+      have some language in common with the druggist, for he presently returned
+      to the carriage, carrying a tumbler. After a moment he went to the window
+      of Mrs. Vansittart's neat brougham.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must bring him in here,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have a pair of horses which look
+      as if they could go. Tell your man to drive to the pumping-station on the
+      Dunes, wherever that may be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he went and fetched Uncle Ben, whom he brought by one arm, in a
+      dislocated condition, trotting feebly to keep pace with the major's long
+      stride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart's coachman must have received very decided orders, for he
+      skirted the town at a rattling trot, and soon emerged from the streets
+      into the quiet of the Wood, which was dark and deserted. Here, in a sandy
+      and lonely alley, he put the horses to a gallop. The carriage swayed and
+      bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time to time Major White
+      shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his strenuous treatment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the little
+      bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
+      pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
+      dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
+      hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye, and
+      looked round him with a measuring glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This place will be as light as day,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;when the moon rises from
+      behind those trees.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low voice.
+      The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not stand without
+      assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of heroic measures. He
+      appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben pointed from time to
+      time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When his mind, muddled with
+      malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the occasion, Major White shook him
+      like a sack. After a few minutes' conversation, Ben broke down completely,
+      and sat against a sand-bank to weep. Major White left him there, and went
+      towards the ladies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell your man,&rdquo; he said to Mrs. Vansittart, &ldquo;to drive back to
+      the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?&rdquo; He paused,
+      looking dubiously from one to the other. &ldquo;And you and Miss Roden had
+      better go back with him and stay in the carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Dorothy, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no!&rdquo; added Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White moistened his lips with an air of patient toleration for
+      the ways of a sex which had ever been far beyond his comprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he said, when the carriage had rolled away over the noisy
+      stones, &ldquo;that we are in good time. They do not expect him until nearly
+      ten. He has been attempting for some time to get the men to refuse to
+      work, and these same men have written to ask him to meet them at the works
+      at ten o'clock, when Roden is at Utrecht, and Von Holzen is out. There is
+      no question of reaching the works at all. They are going to lie in ambush
+      in a hollow of the Dunes, and knock him on the head about half a mile from
+      here north-east.&rdquo; And Major White paused in this great conversational
+      effort to consult a small gold compass attached to his watch-chain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two women waited patiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fine place, these Dunes,&rdquo; said the major, after a pause. &ldquo;Could conceal
+      three thousand men between here and Scheveningen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is not a question of hiding soldiers,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart,
+      sharply, with a movement of the head indicative of supreme contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; admitted White. &ldquo;Better hide ourselves, perhaps. No good standing
+      here where everybody can see us. I'll fetch our friend. Think he'll sleep
+      if we let him. Chemist gave him enough to kill a horse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But haven't you any plans?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart, in despair. &ldquo;What are
+      you going to do? You are not going to let these brutes kill Tony Cornish?
+      Surely you, as a soldier, must know how to meet this crisis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes. Not much of a soldier, you know,&rdquo; answered White, soothingly, as
+      he moved away towards Uncle Ben. &ldquo;But I think I know how this business
+      ought to be managed. Come along&mdash;hide ourselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He led the way across the dunes, dragging Uncle Ben by one arm, and
+      keeping in the hollows. The two women followed in silence on the silent
+      sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once Major White paused and looked back. &ldquo;Don't talk,&rdquo; he said, holding up
+      a large fat hand in a ridiculous gesture of warning, which he must have
+      learnt in the nursery. He looked like a large baby listening for a bogey
+      in the chimney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once or twice he consulted Uncle Ben, and as often glanced at his compass.
+      There was a certain skill in his attitude and demeanour, as if he knew
+      exactly what he was about. Mrs. Vansittart had a hundred questions to ask
+      him, but they died on her lips. The moon rose suddenly over the distant
+      trees and flooded all the sand-hills with light. Major White halted his
+      little party in a deep hollow, and consulted Uncle Ben in whispers. Then
+      bidding him sit down, he left the three alone in their hiding-place, and
+      went away by himself. He climbed almost to the summit of a neighbouring
+      mound, and stopped suddenly, with his face uplifted, as if smelling
+      something. Like many short-sighted persons, he had a keen scent. In a few
+      minutes he came back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have found them,&rdquo; he whispered to Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy. &ldquo;Smelt
+      'em&mdash;like sealing-wax. Eleven of them&mdash;waiting there for
+      Cornish.&rdquo; And he smiled with a sort of boyish glee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do?&rdquo; whispered Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thump them,&rdquo; he answered, and presently went back to his post of
+      observation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Uncle Ben had fallen asleep, and the two women stood side by side waiting
+      in the moonlight. It was chilly, and a keen wind swept in from the sea.
+      Dorothy shivered. They could hear certain notes of certain instruments in
+      the band of the Scheveningen Kurhaus, nearly two miles away. It was
+      strange to be within sound of such evidences of civilization, and yet in
+      such a lonely spot&mdash;strange to reflect that eleven men were waiting
+      within a few yards of them to murder one. And yet they could safely have
+      carried out their intention, and have scraped a hole in the sand to hide
+      his body, in the certainty that it would never be found; for these dunes
+      are a miniature desert of Sahara, where nothing bids men leave the beaten
+      paths, where certain hollows have probably never been trodden by the foot
+      of man, and where the ever-drifting sand slowly accumulates&mdash;a very
+      abomination of desolation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length White rose to his feet agilely enough, and crept to the brow of
+      the dune. The men were evidently moving. Mrs. Vansittart and Dorothy
+      ascended the bank to the spot just vacated by White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only a few dozen yards away they could see the black forms of the
+      malgamiters grouped together under the covert of a low hillock. Hidden
+      from their sight, Major White was slowly stalking them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy touched Mrs. Vansittart's arm, and pointed silently in the
+      direction of Scheveningen. A man was approaching, alone, across the
+      silvery sand-hills. It was Tony Cornish, walking into the trap laid for
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White saw him also, and thinking himself unobserved, or from mere
+      habit acquired among his men, he moistened the tips of his fingers at his
+      lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The malgamiters moved forward, and White followed them. They took up a
+      position in a hollow a few yards away from the foot-path by which Cornish
+      must pass. One of their number remained behind, crouching on a mound, and
+      evidently reporting progress to his companions below. When Cornish was
+      within a hundred yards of the ambush, White suddenly ran up the bank, and
+      lifting this man bodily, threw him down among his comrades. He followed
+      this vigorous attack by charging down into the confused mass. In a few
+      moments the malgamiters streamed away across the sand-hills like a pack of
+      hounds, though pursued and not pursuing. They left some of their number on
+      the sand behind them, for White was a hard hitter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it to them, Tony!&rdquo; White cried, with a ring of exultation in his
+      voice. &ldquo;Knock 'em down as they come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For there was only one path, and the malgamiters had to run the gauntlet
+      of Tony Cornish, who knocked some of them over neatly enough as they
+      passed, selecting the big ones, and letting the others go free. He knew
+      them by the smell of their clothes, and guessed their intention readily
+      enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a strange scene, and one that left the two women, watching it,
+      breathless and eager.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I wish I were a man!&rdquo; exclaimed Mrs. Vansittart, with clenched fists.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They hurried toward Cornish and White, who were now alone on the path.
+      White had rolled up his sleeve, and was tying his handkerchief round his
+      arm with his other hand and his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One of the devils had a knife. Must get my
+      sleeve mended to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII. A REINFORCEMENT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Prends moy telle que je suy.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Major White came down to breakfast at his hotel the next morning, he
+      found the large room deserted and the windows thrown open to the sun and
+      the garden. He was selecting a table, when a step on the verandah made him
+      look up. Standing in the window, framed, as it were, by sunshine and
+      trees, was Marguerite Wade, in a white dress, with demure lips, and the
+      complexion of a wild rose. She was the incarnation of youth&mdash;of that
+      spring-time of life of which the sight tugs at the strings of older
+      hearts; for surely that is the only part of life which is really and
+      honestly worth the living.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite came forward and shook hands gravely. Major White's left
+      eyebrow quivered for a moment in indication of his usual mild surprise at
+      life and its changing surface.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Feeling pretty&mdash;bobbish?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White's eyebrow went right up and his glass fell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fairly bobbish, thank you,&rdquo; he answered, looking at her with stupendous
+      gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look all right, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should never judge by appearances,&rdquo; said White, with a fatherly
+      severity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite pursed up her lips, and looked his stalwart frame up and down
+      in silence. Then she suddenly lapsed into her most confidential manner,
+      like a schoolgirl telling her bosom friend, for the moment, all the truth
+      and more than the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are surprised to see me here; thought you would be, you know. I knew
+      you were in the hotel; saw your boots outside your door last night; knew
+      they must be yours. You went to bed very early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have two pairs of boots,&rdquo; replied the major, darkly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, to tell you the truth, I have brought papa across. Tony wrote for
+      him to come, and I knew papa would be no use by himself, so I came. I told
+      you long ago that the Malgamite scheme was up a gum-tree, and that seems
+      to be precisely where you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so I have come over, and papa and I are going to put things
+      straight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shouldn't if I were you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shouldn't what?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shouldn't put other people's affairs straight. It does not pay,
+      especially if other people happen to be up a gum-tree&mdash;make yourself
+      all sticky, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at him doubtfully. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That's what&mdash;is
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what,&rdquo; admitted Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the difference, I suppose, between a man and a woman,&rdquo; said
+      Marguerite, sitting down at a small table where breakfast had been laid
+      for two. &ldquo;A man looks on at things going&mdash;well, to the dogs&mdash;and
+      smokes and thinks it isn't his business. A woman thinks the whole world is
+      her business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is, in a sense&mdash;it is her doing, at all events.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had turned to beckon to the waiter, and she paused to look back
+      over her shoulder with shrewd, clear eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said mystically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then she addressed herself to the waiter, calling him &ldquo;Kellner,&rdquo; and
+      speaking to him in German, in the full assurance that it would be his
+      native tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have told him,&rdquo; she explained to White, &ldquo;to bring your little
+      coffee-pot and your little milk-jug and your little pat of butter to this
+      table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I understood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Then you know German?&rdquo; inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful
+      glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver
+      basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so
+      different and taste so much alike.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; she said confidentially, &ldquo;that you know more than you
+      appear to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not such a fool as I look, in fact.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is about the size of it,&rdquo; admitted Marguerite, gravely. &ldquo;Tony always
+      says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he is right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across the
+      little table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony often is right,&rdquo; said Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small
+      coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt. The
+      privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a certain
+      pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why is Tony so fond of The Hague? Who is Mrs. Vansittart?&rdquo; she asked,
+      without looking up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White looked stolidly out of the open window for a few minutes
+      before answering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two questions don't make an answer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not these two questions?&rdquo; asked Marguerite, with a sudden laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; Mrs. Vansittart is a widow, young, and what they usually call
+      'charming,' I believe. She is clever, yes, very clever, and she was, I
+      suppose, fond of Vansittart; and that is the whole story, I take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not exactly a cheery story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No true stories are,&rdquo; returned the major, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Marguerite shook her head. In her wisdom&mdash;that huge wisdom of
+      life as seen from the threshold&mdash;she did not believe Mrs.
+      Vansittart's story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but novelists and people take a true story and patch it up at the
+      end. Perhaps most people do that with their lives, you know; perhaps Mrs.
+      Vansittart&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won't do that,&rdquo; said the major, staring in a stupid way out of the window
+      with vacant, short-sighted eyes. &ldquo;Not even if Tony suggested it&mdash;which
+      he won't do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that Tony is not a patch upon the late Mr. Vansittart&mdash;that
+      is what <i>you</i> mean,&rdquo; said Marguerite, condescendingly. &ldquo;Then why does
+      he stay in The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into a stolid silence,
+      broken only by a demand made presently by Marguerite to the waiter for
+      more bread and more butter. She looked at her companion once or twice, and
+      it is perhaps not astonishing that she again concluded that he must be as
+      dense as he looked. It is a mistake that many of her sex have made
+      regarding men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know Miss Roden?&rdquo; she asked suddenly. &ldquo;I have heard a good deal
+      about her from Joan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is she pretty?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very pretty?&rdquo; persisted Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they continued their breakfast in silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite appeared to have something to think about. Major White was in
+      the habit of stating that he never thought, and certainly appearances bore
+      him out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father is late,&rdquo; he said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Marguerite, with a gay laugh. &ldquo;Because he was afraid to
+      ring the bell for hot water. Papa has a rooted British conviction that
+      Continental chambermaids always burst into your room if you ring the bell,
+      whether the door is locked or not. He is nothing if not respectable, poor
+      old dear&mdash;would give points to any bishop in the land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As she spoke her father came into the room, looking, as his daughter had
+      stated eminently British and respectable. He shook hands with Major White,
+      and seemed pleased to see him. The major was, in truth, a man after his
+      own heart, and one whom he looked upon as solid. For Mr. Wade belonged to
+      a solid generation that liked the andante of life to be played in good
+      heavy chords, and looked with suspicious eyes upon brilliancy of execution
+      or lightness of touch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had a note from Cornish,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who suggests a meeting at this
+      hotel this afternoon to discuss our future action. The other side has, it
+      appears, written to Lord Ferriby to come over to The Hague.&rdquo; There had in
+      Mr. Wade's life usually been that &ldquo;other side,&rdquo; which he had treated with
+      a good, honest respect so long as they proved themselves worthy of it; but
+      which he crushed the moment they forgot themselves. For there was in this
+      British banker a vast spirit of honest, open antagonism by which he and
+      his likes have built up a scattered empire on this planet. &ldquo;At three
+      o'clock,&rdquo; he concluded, lifting the cover of a silver dish which
+      Marguerite had sent back to the kitchen awaiting her father's arrival.
+      &ldquo;And what will you do, my dear?&rdquo; he said, turning to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; replied Marguerite, who always knew her own mind. &ldquo;I shall take a
+      carriage and drive down to the Villa des Dunes to see Dorothy Roden. I
+      have a note for her from Joan.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Mr. Wade turned to his breakfast with an appetite in no way diminished
+      by the knowledge that the &ldquo;other side&rdquo; were about to take action.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At three o'clock the carriage was awaiting Marguerite at the door of the
+      hotel, but for some reason Marguerite lingered in the porch, asking
+      questions and absolutely refusing to drive all the way to Scheveningen by
+      the side of the &ldquo;Queen's Canal.&rdquo; When at length she turned to get in, Tony
+      Cornish was coming across the Toornoifeld under the trees; for The Hague
+      is the shadiest city in the world, with forest trees growing amid its
+      great houses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Marguerite, holding out her hand. &ldquo;You see, I have come across
+      to give you all a leg-up. Seems to me we are going to have rather a
+      spree.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The spree,&rdquo; replied Cornish, with his light laugh, &ldquo;has already begun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite drove away towards The Hague Wood, and disappeared among the
+      transparent green shadows of that wonderful forest. The man had been
+      instructed to take her to the Villa des Dunes by way of the Leyden Road,
+      making a round in the woods. It was at a point near the farthest outskirts
+      of the forest that Marguerite suddenly turned at the sight of a man
+      sitting upon a bench at the roadside reading a sheet of paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; she said to herself, &ldquo;is the Herr Professor&mdash;but I cannot
+      remember his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite was naturally a sociable person. Indeed, a woman usually stops
+      an old and half-forgotten acquaintance, while men are accustomed to let
+      such bygones go. She told the driver to turn round and drive back again.
+      The man upon the bench had scarce looked up as she passed. He had the air
+      of a German, which suggestion was accentuated by the solitude of his
+      position and the poetic surroundings which he had selected. A German, be
+      it recorded to his credit, has a keen sense of the beauties of nature, and
+      would rather drink his beer before a fine outlook than in a comfortable
+      chair indoors. When Marguerite returned, this man looked up again with the
+      absorbed air of one repeating something in his mind. When he perceived
+      that she was undoubtedly coming towards himself, he stood up and took off
+      his hat. He was a small, square-built man, with upright hair turning to
+      grey, and a quiet, thoughtful, clean-shaven face. His attitude, and indeed
+      his person, dimly suggested some pictures that have been painted of the
+      great Napoleon. His measuring glance&mdash;as if the eyes were weighing
+      the face it looked upon&mdash;distinctly suggested his great prototype.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not remember me, Herr Professor,&rdquo; said Marguerite, holding out her
+      hand with a frank laugh. &ldquo;You have forgotten Dresden and the chemistry
+      classes at Fräulein Weber's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Fräulein; I remember those classes,&rdquo; the professor answered, with a
+      grave bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you remember the girl who dropped the sulphuric acid into the
+      something of potassium? I nearly made a great discovery then, mein Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You nearly made the greatest discovery of all, Fräulein. Yes, I remember
+      now&mdash;Fräulein Wade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am Marguerite Wade,&rdquo; she answered, looking at him with a little
+      frown, &ldquo;but I can't remember your name. You were always Herr Professor.
+      And we never called anything by its right name in the chemistry classes,
+      you know; that was part of the&mdash;er&mdash;trick. We called water H2 or
+      something like that. We called you J.H.U, Herr Professor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that mean, Fräulein?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jolly hard up,&rdquo; returned Marguerite, with a laugh which suddenly gave
+      place, with a bewildering rapidity, to a confidential gravity. &ldquo;You were
+      poor then, mein Herr.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always been poor, Fräulein, until now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Marguerite's mind had already flown to other things. She was looking
+      at him again with a frown of concentration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am beginning to remember your name,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it not strange how a name comes back with a face? And I had quite
+      forgotten both your face and your name, Herr ... Herr ... von Holz&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      broke off, and stepped back from him&mdash;&ldquo;von Holzen,&rdquo; she said slowly.
+      &ldquo;Then you are the malgamite man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Fräulein,&rdquo; he answered, with his grave smile; &ldquo;I am the malgamite
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at him with a sort of wonder, for she knew enough of the
+      Malgamite scheme to realize that this was a man who ruled all that came
+      near him, against whom her own father and Tony Cornish and Major White and
+      Mrs. Vansittart had been able to do nothing&mdash;who in face of all
+      opposition continued calmly to make malgamite, and sell it daily to the
+      world at a preposterous profit, and at the cost only of men's lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, Fräulein, are the daughter of Mr. Wade, the banker?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, feeling suddenly that she was a schoolgirl again,
+      standing before her master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why are you in The Hague?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; replied Marguerite, hesitating for perhaps the first time in her
+      life, &ldquo;to enlarge our minds, mein Herr.&rdquo; She was looking at the paper he
+      held in his hand, and he saw the direction of her glance. In response, he
+      laughed quietly, and held it out towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have guessed right. It is the Vorschrift, the
+      prescription for the manufacture of malgamite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took the paper and turned it over curiously. Then, with her usual
+      audacity, she opened it and began to read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is in Hebrew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen nodded his head, and held out his hand for the paper, which she
+      gave to him. She was not afraid of the man&mdash;but she was very near to
+      fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am sitting here, quietly under the trees, Fräulein,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;learning it by heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV. A BRIGHT AND SHINING LIGHT.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Un homme sérieux est celui qui se croit regardé.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      When Lord Ferriby decided to accede to Roden's earnest desire that he
+      should go to The Hague, he was conscious of conferring a distinct favour
+      upon the Low Countries.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not a place one would choose to go to at this time of year,&rdquo; he
+      said to a friend at the club. &ldquo;In the winter, it is different; for the
+      season there is in the winter, as in many Continental capitals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of the numerous advantages attached to an hereditary title is the
+      certainty that a hearer of some sort or another will always be
+      forthcoming. A commoner finds himself snubbed or quietly abandoned so soon
+      as his reputation for the utterance of egoisms and platitudes is
+      sufficiently established, but there are always plenty of people ready and
+      willing to be bored by a lord. A high-class club is, moreover, a very
+      mushroom-bed of bores, where elderly gentlemen who have traveled quite a
+      distance down the road of life, without finding out that it is bordered on
+      either side by a series of small events not worth commenting upon, meet to
+      discuss trivialities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Truth is,&rdquo; said his lordship to one of these persons, &ldquo;this Malgamite
+      scheme is one of the largest charities that I have conducted, and carries
+      with it certain responsibilities&mdash;yes, certain responsibilities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he assumed a grave air of importance almost amounting to worry. For
+      Lord Ferriby did not know that a worried look is an almost certain
+      indication of a small mind. Nor had he observed that those who bear the
+      greatest responsibilities, and have proved themselves worthy of the
+      burden, are precisely they who show the serenest face to the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It must not, however, be imagined that Lord Ferriby was in reality at all
+      uneasy respecting the Malgamite scheme. Here again he enjoyed one of the
+      advantages of having been preceded by a grandfather able and willing to
+      serve his party without too minute a scruple. For if the king can do no
+      wrong, the nobility may surely claim a certain immunity from criticism,
+      and those who have allowance made to them must inevitably learn to make
+      allowance for themselves. Lord Ferriby was, in a word, too self-satisfied
+      to harbour any doubts respecting his own conduct. Self-satisfaction is, of
+      course, indolence in disguise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was easy enough for Lord Ferriby to persuade himself that Cornish was
+      wrong and Roden in the right; especially when Roden, in the most
+      gentlemanly manner possible, paid a cheque, not to Lord Ferriby direct,
+      but to his bankers, in what he gracefully termed the form of a bonus upon
+      the heavy subscription originally advanced by his lordship. There are many
+      people in the world who will accept money so long as their delicate
+      susceptibilities are not offended by an actual sight of the cheque.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anthony Cornish,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, pulling down his waistcoat, &ldquo;like
+      many men who have had neither training nor experience, does not quite
+      understand the ethics of commerce.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship, like others, seemed to understand these to mean that a man
+      may take anything that his neighbour is fool enough to part with.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan was willing enough to accompany her father, because, in the great
+      march of social progress, she had passed on from charity to sanitation,
+      and was convinced that the mortality among the malgamiters, which had been
+      more than hinted at in the Ferriby family circle, was entirely due to the
+      negligence of the victims in not using an old disinfectant served up in
+      artistic flagons under a new name. Permanganate of potash under another
+      name will not only smell as sweet, but will perform greater sanitary
+      wonders, because the world places faith in a new name, and faith is still
+      the greatest healer of human ills.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan, therefore, proposed to carry to The Hague the glad tidings of the
+      sanitary millennium, fully convinced that this had come to a suffering
+      world under the name of &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; in small bottles, at the price of one
+      shilling and a penny halfpenny. The penny halfpenny, no doubt, represented
+      the cost of bottle and drug and the small blue ribbon securing the
+      stopper, while the shilling went very properly into the manufacturer's
+      pocket. It was at this time the fashion in Joan's world to smell of
+      &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; which could also be had in the sweetest little blue tabloids, to
+      place in the wardrobe and among one's clean clothes. Joan had given Major
+      White a box of these tabloids, which gift had been accepted with becoming
+      gravity. Indeed, the major seemed never to tire of hearing Joan's
+      exordiums, or of watching her pretty, earnest face as she urged him to use
+      &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; in its various forms, and it was only when he heard that
+      cigar-holders made of &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; absorbed all the deleterious properties of
+      tobacco that his stout heart failed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he pleaded, &ldquo;but a fellow must draw the line at a sky-blue
+      cigar-holder, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Joan had to content herself with the promise that he would use none
+      other than &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; dentifrice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby and Joan, therefore, set out to The Hague, his lordship in
+      the full conviction (enjoyed by so many useless persons) that his presence
+      was in itself of beneficial effect upon the course of events, and Joan
+      with her &ldquo;Nuxine&rdquo; and, in a minor degree now, her &ldquo;Malgamiters&rdquo; and her
+      &ldquo;Haberdashers' Assistants.&rdquo; Lady Ferriby preferred to remain at Cambridge
+      Terrace, chiefly because it was cheaper, and also because the cook
+      required a holiday, and, with a kitchen-maid only, she could indulge in
+      her greatest pleasure&mdash;a useless economy. The cook refused to starve
+      her fellow-servants, while the kitchen-maid, mindful of a written
+      character in the future, did as her ladyship bade her&mdash;hashing and
+      mincing in a manner quite irreconcilable with forty pounds a year and beer
+      money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White met the travellers at The Hague station, and Joan, who had had
+      some trouble with her father during the simple journey, was conscious for
+      the first time of a sense of orderliness and rest in the presence of the
+      stout soldier, who seemed to walk heavily over difficulties when they
+      arose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh&mdash;er,&rdquo; began his lordship, as they walked down the platform, &ldquo;have
+      you seen anything of Roden?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Lord Ferriby was too self-centred a man to b keenly observant, and had
+      as yet failed to detect Von Holzen behind and overshadowing his partner in
+      the Malgamite scheme.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;cannot say I have,&rdquo; replied the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had never discussed the malgamite affairs with Lord Ferriby. Discussion
+      was, indeed, a pastime in which the major never indulged. His position in
+      the matter was clearly enough defined, but he had no intention of
+      explaining why it was that he ranged himself stolidly on Cornish's side in
+      the differences that had arisen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby was dimly conscious of a smouldering antagonism, but knew the
+      major sufficiently well not to fear an outbreak of hostilities. Men who
+      will face opposition may be divided into two classes&mdash;the one taking
+      its stand upon a conscious rectitude, the other half-hiding with the cheap
+      and transparent cunning of the ostrich. Many men, also, are in the
+      fortunate condition of believing themselves to be invariably right unless
+      they are told quite plainly that they are wrong. And there was nobody to
+      tell Lord Ferriby this. Cornish, with a sort of respect for the head of
+      the family&mdash;a regard for the office irrespective of its holder&mdash;was
+      so far from wishing to convince his uncle of error that he voluntarily
+      relinquished certain strong points in his position rather than strike a
+      blow that would inevitably reach Lord Ferriby, though directed towards
+      Roden or Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby heard, however, with some uneasiness, that the Wades were in
+      The Hague.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A worthy man&mdash;a very worthy man,&rdquo; he said abstractedly; for he
+      looked upon the banker with that dim suspicion which is aroused in certain
+      minds by uncompromising honesty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The travellers proceeded to the hotel, where rooms had been prepared for
+      them. There were flowers in Joan's room, which her maid said she had
+      rearranged, so awkwardly had they been placed in the vase. The Wades, it
+      appeared, were out, and had announced their intention of not returning to
+      lunch. They were, the hotel porter thought, to take that meal at Mrs.
+      Vansittart's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; said Lord Ferriby, &ldquo;that I shall go down to the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, do,&rdquo; answered White, with an expressionless countenance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you will accompany me?&rdquo; suggested Joan's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;think not. Can't hit it off with Roden. Perhaps Joan would like
+      to see the Palace in the Wood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan thought that it was her duty to go to the malgamite works, and
+      murmured the word &ldquo;Nuxine,&rdquo; without, however, much enthusiasm; but White
+      happened to remember that it was mixing-day. So Lord Ferriby went off
+      alone in a hired carriage, as had been his intention from the first; for
+      White knew even less about the ethics of commerce than did Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The account of affairs that awaited his lordship at the works was, no
+      doubt, satisfactory enough, for the manufacture of malgamite had been
+      proceeding at high pressure night and day. Von Holzen had, as he told
+      Marguerite, been poor all his life, and poverty is a hard task-master. He
+      was not going to be poor again. The grey carts had been passing up and
+      down Park Straat more often than ever, taking their loads to one or other
+      of the railway stations, and bringing, as they passed her house, a gleam
+      of anger to Mrs. Vansittart's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The scoundrels!&rdquo; she muttered. &ldquo;The scoundrels! Why does not Tony act?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Tony Cornish, who alone knew the full extent of Von Holzen's
+      determination not to be frustrated, could not act&mdash;for Dorothy's
+      sake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A string of the quiet grey carts passed up Park Straat when the party
+      assembled there had risen from the luncheon-table. Mrs. Vansittart and Mr.
+      Wade were standing together at the window, which was large even in this
+      city of large and spotless windows. Dorothy and Cornish were talking
+      together at the other end of the room, and Marguerite was supposed to be
+      looking at a book of photographs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There goes a consignment of men's lives,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to her
+      companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A human life, madam,&rdquo; answered the banker, &ldquo;like all else on earth,
+      varies much in value.&rdquo; For Mr. Wade belonged to that class of Englishmen
+      which has a horror of all sentiment, and takes care to cloak its good
+      actions by the assumption of an unworthy motive. And who shall say that
+      this man of business was wrong in his statement? Which of us has not a few
+      friends and relations who can only have been created as a solemn warning?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Mrs. Vansittart and Mr. Wade stood at the window, Marguerite joined
+      them, slipping her hand within her father's arm with that air of
+      protection which she usually assumed towards him. She was gay and lively,
+      as she ever was, and Mrs. Vansittart glanced at her more than once with a
+      sort of envy. Mrs. Vansittart did not, in truth, always understand
+      Marguerite or her English, which was essentially modern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were standing and laughing at the window, when Marguerite suddenly
+      drew them back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Lord Ferriby,&rdquo; replied Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And looking cautiously between the lace curtains, they saw the great man
+      drive past in his hired carriage. &ldquo;He has recently bought Park Straat,&rdquo;
+       commented Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And his lordship's condescending air certainly seemed to suggest that the
+      street, if not the whole city, belonged to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade pointed with his thick thumb in the direction in which Lord
+      Ferriby was driving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he going?&rdquo; he asked bluntly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the malgamite works,&rdquo; replied Mrs. Vansittart, with significance. And
+      Mr. Wade made no comment. Mrs. Vansittart spoke first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I asked Major White,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to lunch with us to-day, but he was
+      pledged, it appeared, to meet Lord Ferriby and his daughter, and see them
+      installed at their hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart, who in truth seemed to find the banker rather heavy,
+      allowed some moments to elapse before she again spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; she then observed, &ldquo;does not accompany Lord Ferriby to the
+      malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; replied Marguerite, demurely, &ldquo;has other fish to fry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV. CLEARING THE AIR
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be
+     entirely good.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden, who had been to Utrecht and Antwerp, arrived home on the
+      evening of the day that saw Lord Ferriby's advent to The Hague. Though the
+      day had been fine enough, the weather broke up at sunset, and great clouds
+      chased the sun towards the west. Then the rain came suddenly and swept
+      across the plains in a slanting fury. A cold wind from the south-east
+      followed hard upon the heavy clouds, and night came in a chaos of squall
+      and beating rain. Roden was drenched in his passage from the carriage to
+      the Villa des Dunes, which, being a summer residence, had not been
+      provided with a carriage-drive across the dunes from the road. He looked
+      at his sister with tired eyes when she met him in the entrance-hall. He
+      was worn and thinner than she had seen him in the days of his adversity,
+      for Percy Roden, like his partner, had made several false starts upon the
+      road to fortune before he got well away. Like many&mdash;like, indeed,
+      nearly all&mdash;who have to try again, he had lightened himself of a
+      scruple or so each time he turned back. Prosperity, however, seems to kill
+      as many as adversity. Abundant wealth is a vexation of spirit to-day as
+      surely as it was in the time of that wise man who, having tried it, said
+      that a stranger eateth it, and it is vanity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beastly night,&rdquo; said Roden, and that was all. He had been to Antwerp on
+      banking business, and had that sleepless look which brings a glitter to
+      the eyes. This was a man handling great sums of money. &ldquo;Von Holzen been
+      here to-day?&rdquo; he asked, when he had changed his clothes, and they were
+      seated at the dinner-table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, with her eyes on his plate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was eating little, and drank only mineral water from a stone bottle. He
+      was like an athlete in training, though the strain he sought to meet was
+      mental and not physical. He shivered more than once, and glanced sharply
+      at the door when the maid happened to leave it open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Dorothy went to the drawing-room she lighted the fire, which was
+      ready laid, and of wood. Although it was nearly midsummer, the air was
+      chilly, and the rain beat against the thin walls of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think it probable,&rdquo; Roden had said, before she left the dining-room,
+      &ldquo;that Von Holzen will come in this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down before the fire, which burnt briskly, and looked into it with
+      thoughtful, clever grey eyes. Percy thought it probable that Von Holzen
+      would come to the Villa des Dunes this evening. Would he come? For Percy
+      knew nothing of the organized attempt on Cornish's life which she herself
+      had frustrated. He seemed to know nothing of the grim and silent
+      antagonism that existed between the two men, shutting his eyes to their
+      movements, which were like the movements of chess-players that the
+      onlooker sees but does not understand. Dorothy knew that Von Holzen was
+      infinitely cleverer than her brother. She knew, indeed, that he was
+      cleverer than most men. With the quickness of her sex, she had long ago
+      divined the source and basis of his strength. He was indifferent to women&mdash;who
+      formed no part of his life, who entered in no way into his plans or
+      ambitions. Being a woman, she should, theoretically, have disliked and
+      despised him for this. As a matter of fact, the characteristic commanded
+      her respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She knew that her brother was not in Von Holzen's confidence. It was
+      probable that no man on earth had ever come within measurable distance of
+      that. He would, in all likelihood, hear nothing of the attempt to kill
+      Cornish, and Cornish himself would be the last to mention it. For she knew
+      that her lover was a match for Von Holzen, and more than a match. She had
+      never doubted that. It was a part of her creed. A woman never really loves
+      a man until she has made him the object of a creed. And it is only the man
+      himself who can&mdash;and in the long run usually does&mdash;make it
+      impossible for her to adhere to her belief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was still sitting and thinking over the fire when her brother came
+      into the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said at the sight of the fire, and came forward, holding out his
+      hands to the blaze. He looked down at his sister with glittering and
+      unsteady eyes. He was in a dangerous humour&mdash;a humour for
+      explanations and admissions&mdash;to which weak natures sometimes give
+      way. And, looking at the matter practically and calmly, explanations and
+      admissions are better left&mdash;to the hereafter. But Von Holzen saved
+      him by ringing the front-door bell at that moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The professor came into the room a minute later. He stood in the doorway,
+      and bowed in the stiff German way to Dorothy. With Roden he exchanged a
+      curt nod. His hair was glued to his temples by the rain, which gleamed on
+      his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an abominable night,&rdquo; he said, coming forward. &ldquo;Ach, Fräulein,
+      please do not leave us&mdash;and the fire,&rdquo; he added; for Dorothy had
+      risen. &ldquo;I merely came to make sure that he had arrived safely home.&rdquo; He
+      took the chair offered to him by Roden, and sat on it without bringing it
+      forward. He had but little of that self-assurance which is so highly
+      cultivated to-day as to be almost offensive. &ldquo;There are, of course,
+      matters of business,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;which can wait till to-morrow. To-night
+      you are tired.&rdquo; He looked at Roden as a doctor may look at a patient. &ldquo;Is
+      it not so, Fräulein?&rdquo; he asked, turning to Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Except one or two&mdash;which we may discuss now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and glanced at him. He was looking at her, and their eyes
+      met for a moment. He seemed to see something in her face that made him
+      thoughtful, for he remained silent for some time, while he wiped the rain
+      from his face with his pocket-handkerchief. It was a pale, determined
+      face, which could hardly fail to impress those with whom he came in
+      contact as the face of a strong man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Ferriby has been at the works to-day,&rdquo; he said; and then, with a
+      gesture of the hands and a shrug, he described Lord Ferriby as a
+      nonentity. &ldquo;He went through the works, and looked over your books. I wrote
+      out a sort of certificate of his satisfaction with both, and&mdash;he
+      signed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden was leaning forward over the fire with a cigarette between his lips.
+      He nodded shortly. &ldquo;Good,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yesterday,&rdquo; continued Von Holzen, &ldquo;I met an old acquaintance&mdash;a Miss
+      Wade&mdash;one of the young ladies of a Pensionnat at Dresden, in which I
+      taught at one time. She is a daughter of the banker Wade, and told me,
+      reluctantly, that she is at The Hague with her father&mdash;a friend of
+      Cornish's. This morning I took a walk on the sands at Scheveningen; there
+      was a large fat man, among others, bathing at the Northern
+      bathing-station. It was Major White. It is a regular gathering of the
+      clans. I saw a German paper-maker&mdash;a big man in the trade&mdash;on
+      the Kursaal terrace this morning. It may be a mere chance, and it may
+      not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he spoke he had withdrawn from his pocket a folded paper, which he was
+      fingering thoughtfully. Dorothy, who knew that she had by her looks
+      unwittingly warned him, made no motion to go now. He would say nothing
+      that he did not deliberately intend for her ears as much as for her
+      brother's. Von Holzen opened the paper slowly, and looked at it as if
+      every line of it was familiar. It was a sheet of ordinary foolscap covered
+      with minute figures and writing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the Vorschrift, the&mdash;how do you say?&mdash;prescription for
+      the malgamite, and there are several in The Hague at this moment who want
+      it, and some who would not be too scrupulous in their methods of procuring
+      it. It is for this that they are gathering&mdash;here in The Hague.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned in his leisurely way, and looked over his shoulder towards
+      the paper. Von Holzen glanced at Dorothy. He had no desire to keep her in
+      suspense, but he wished to know how much she knew. She looked into the
+      fire, treating his conversation as directed towards her brother only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tried for ten years in vain to get this,&rdquo; continued Von Holzen, &ldquo;and at
+      last a dying man dictated it to me. For years it lived in the brain of one
+      man only&mdash;and he a maker of it himself. He might have died at any
+      moment with that secret in his head. And I,&rdquo;&mdash;he folded the paper
+      slowly and shrugged his shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;I watched him. And the last
+      intelligible word he spoke on earth was the last word of this
+      prescription. The man can have been no fool; for he was a man of little
+      education. I never respected him so much as I do now when I have learnt it
+      myself.&rdquo; He rose and walked to the fire. &ldquo;You permit me, Fräulein,&rdquo; he
+      said, putting the logs together with his foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They burnt up brightly, and he threw the paper upon them. In a moment it
+      was reduced to ashes. He turned slowly upon his heel, and looked at his
+      companions with the grave smile of one who had never known much mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; he said, touching his forehead, with one finger; &ldquo;it is in the
+      brain of one man&mdash;once more.&rdquo; He returned to the chair he had just
+      vacated. &ldquo;And whosoever wishes to stop the manufacture of malgamite will
+      need to stop that brain,&rdquo; he said, with a soft laugh. &ldquo;Of course there is
+      a risk attached to burning that paper,&rdquo; he continued, after a pause. &ldquo;My
+      brain may go&mdash;a little clot of blood no bigger than a pin's head, and
+      the greatest brain on earth is so much pulp! It may be worth some one's
+      while to kill me. It is so often worth some one's while to kill somebody
+      else, even at a considerable risk&mdash;but the courage is nearly always
+      lacking. However, we must run these risks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose from his chair with a low and rather pleasant laugh, glancing at
+      the clock as he did so. It was evidently his intention to take his leave.
+      Dorothy rose also, and they stood for a moment facing each other. He was a
+      few inches above her stature, and he looked down at her with his slow,
+      thoughtful eyes. He seemed always to be making a diagnosis of the souls of
+      men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know, Fräulein,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;That you are one of those who dislike me,
+      and seek to do me harm. I am sorry. It is long since I discarded a
+      youthful belief that it was possible to get on in life without arousing
+      ill feeling. Believe me, it is impossible even to hold one's own in this
+      world without making enemies. There are two sides to every question,
+      Fräulein&mdash;remember that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He brought his heels together, bowed stiffly, from the waist, in his
+      formal manner, and left the room. Percy Roden followed him, leaving the
+      door open. Dorothy heard the rustle of his dripping waterproof as he put
+      it on, the click of the door, the sound of his firm retreating tread on
+      the gravel. Then her brother came back into the room. His rather weak face
+      was flushed. His eyes were unsteady. Dorothy saw this in a glance, and her
+      own face hardened unresponsively. The situation was clearly enough defined
+      in her own mind. Von Holzen had destroyed the prescription before her on
+      purpose. It was only a move in that game of life which is always extending
+      to a new deal, and of which women as onlookers necessarily see the most.
+      Von Holzen wished Cornish, and others concerned, to know that he had
+      destroyed the prescription. It was a concession in disguise&mdash;a
+      retrograde movement&mdash;perhaps <i>pour mieux sauter</i>.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden was one of those men who have a grudge against the world. The
+      most hopeless ill-doer is he who excuses himself angrily. There are some
+      who seem unconscious of their own failings, and for these there is hope.
+      They may some day find out that it is better to be at peace with the world
+      even at the cost of a little self-denial. But Percy Roden admitted that he
+      was wrong, and always had that sort of excuse which seeks to lay the blame
+      upon a whole class&mdash;upon other business men, upon those in authority,
+      upon women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is excused in others, why not in me?&rdquo;&mdash;the last cry of the
+      ne'er-do-well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced angrily at Dorothy now. But he was always half afraid of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish we had never come to this place,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us go away from it,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, &ldquo;before it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at her in surprise. Did she expect him to go away now from
+      Mrs. Vansittart? He knew, of course, that Dorothy and the world always
+      expected too much from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before it is too late. What do you mean?&rdquo; he asked, still thinking of
+      Mrs. Vansittart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before the Malgamite scheme is exposed,&rdquo; replied Dorothy, bluntly. And,
+      to her surprise, he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you meant something else,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The Malgamite scheme can
+      look after itself. Von Holzen is the cleverest man I know, and he knows
+      what he is doing. I thought you meant Mrs. Vansittart&mdash;were thinking
+      of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I was not thinking of Mrs. Vansittart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not worth thinking about,&rdquo; suggested Roden, adhering to his method of
+      laughing for fear of being laughed at, which is common enough in very
+      young men; but Roden should have outgrown it by this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not seriously.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I hope you do not think seriously of asking Mrs. Vansittart to marry
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden gave his rather unpleasant laugh again. &ldquo;It happens that I do,&rdquo; he
+      replied. &ldquo;And it happens that I know that Mrs. Vansittart never stays in
+      The Hague in summer when all the houses are empty and everybody is away,
+      and the place is given up to tourists, and becomes a mere annex to
+      Scheveningen. This year she has stayed&mdash;why, I should like to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he stroked his moustache as he looked into the fire. He had been
+      indulging in the vain pleasure of putting two and two together. A young
+      man's vanity&mdash;or indeed any man's vanity&mdash;is not to be trusted
+      to work out that simple addition correctly. Percy Roden was still in a
+      dangerously exalted frame of mind. There is no intoxication so dangerous
+      as that of success, and none that leaves so bitter a taste behind it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;no girl ever thinks that her brother can succeed in
+      such a case. I suppose you dislike Mrs. Vansittart?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I like her, and I understand her, perhaps better than you do. I
+      should like nothing better than that she should marry you, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, ask her,&rdquo; replied Dorothy&mdash;a woman's answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then let us go away from here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned on her angrily. &ldquo;Why do you keep on repeating that?&rdquo; he
+      cried. &ldquo;Why do you want to go away from here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; replied Dorothy, as angry as himself, &ldquo;you know as well as I do
+      that the Malgamite scheme is not what it pretends to be. I suppose you are
+      making a fortune and are dazzled, or else you are being deceived by Herr
+      von Holzen, or else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or else&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; echoed Roden, with a pale face. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;go on.&rdquo;
+       But she bit her lip and was silent. &ldquo;It is an open secret,&rdquo; she went on
+      after a pause. &ldquo;Everybody knows that it is a disgrace or worse&mdash;perhaps
+      a crime. If you have made a fortune, be content with what you have made,
+      and clear yourself of the whole affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I am going to make more. And I am going to marry Mrs. Vansittart.
+      It is only a question of money. It always is with women. And not one in a
+      hundred cares how the money is made.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which, of course, is not true; for no woman likes to see her husband's
+      name on a biscuit or a jam-pot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; went on Percy, in his anger. &ldquo;I know which side you take,
+      since you are talking of open secrets. At any rate, Von Holzen knows yours&mdash;if
+      it is a secret&mdash;for he has hinted at it more than once. You think
+      that it is I who have been deceived or who deceive myself. You are just as
+      likely to be wrong. You place your whole faith in Cornish. You think that
+      Cornish cannot do wrong.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy turned and looked at him. Her eyes were steady, but the color left
+      her face, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And without a moment's hesitation,&rdquo; went on Roden, hurriedly, &ldquo;you would
+      sacrifice everything for the sake of a man you had never seen six months
+      ago?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even your own brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI. THE ULTIMATUM.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Le plus grand, le plus fort et le plus adroit surtout, est
+     celui qui sait attendre.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you think that Herr von Holzen is a philanthropist, my dear,&rdquo; said
+      Marguerite Wade, sententiously, &ldquo;that is exactly where your toes turn in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She addressed this remark to Joan Ferriby, whose eyes were certainly
+      veiled by that cloak of charity which the kind-hearted are ever ready to
+      throw over the sins of others. The two girls were sitting in the quiet
+      old-world garden of the hotel, beneath the shade of tall trees, within the
+      peaceful sound of the cooing doves on the tiled roof. Major White was
+      sitting within earshot, looking bulky and solemn in his light tweed suit
+      and felt hat. The major had given up appearances long ago, but no man
+      surpassed him in cleanliness and that well-groomed air which distinguishes
+      men of his cloth. He was reading a newspaper, and from time to time
+      glanced at his companions, more especially, perhaps, at Joan.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Major White,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Greengage, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The greengages were on a table at the major's elbow, having been placed
+      there at Marguerite's command by the waiter who attended them at
+      breakfast. White made ready to pass the dish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fingers,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;Heave one over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White selected one with an air of solemn resignation. Marguerite caught
+      the greengage as neatly as it was thrown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think of Herr von Holzen?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To think,&rdquo; replied the Major, &ldquo;certain requisites are necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;m.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know Herr von Holzen, and I have nothing to think with,&rdquo; he
+      explained gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you soon will know him, and I dare say if you tried you would find
+      that you are not so stupid as you pretend to be. You are going down to the
+      works this morning with Papa and Tony Cornish. I know that, because papa
+      told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Major looked at her with his air of philosophic surprise. She held up
+      her hand for a catch, and with resignation he threw her another greengage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tony is going to call for you in a carriage at ten o'clock, and you three
+      old gentlemen are going to drive in an open barouche with cigars, like a
+      bean feast, to the malgamite works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The description is fairly accurate,&rdquo; admitted Major White, without
+      looking up from his paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I imagine you are going to raise&mdash;Hail Columbia!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her severely through his glass, and said nothing. She nodded
+      in a friendly and encouraging manner, as if to intimate that he had her
+      entire approval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take my word for it,&rdquo; she continued, turning to Joan, &ldquo;Herr von Holzen is
+      a shady customer. I know a shady customer when I see him. I never thought
+      much of the malgamite business, you know, but unfortunately nobody asked
+      my opinion on the matter. I wonder&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; She paused, looking
+      thoughtfully at Major White, who presently met her glance with a stolid
+      stare. &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo; she said, in a final voice. &ldquo;I forgot. You never
+      think. You can't. Oh no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so easy to misjudge people,&rdquo; pleaded Joan, earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is much easier to see right through them, straight off, in the
+      twinkling of a bedpost,&rdquo; asserted Marguerite. &ldquo;You will see, Herr von
+      Holzen is wrong and Tony is right. And Tony will smash him up. You will
+      see. Tony&rdquo;&mdash;she paused, and looked up at the roof where the doves
+      were cooing&mdash;&ldquo;Tony knows his way about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White rose and laid aside his paper. Mr. Wade was coming down the
+      iron steps that led from the verandah to the garden. The banker was
+      cutting a cigar, and wore a placid, comfortable look, as if he had
+      breakfasted well. Even as regards kidneys and bacon in a foreign hotel,
+      where there is a will there is a way, and Marguerite possessed tongues.
+      &ldquo;I'll turn this place inside out,&rdquo; she had said, &ldquo;to get the old thing
+      what he wants.&rdquo; Then she attacked the waiter in fluent German.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite noted his approach with a protecting eye. &ldquo;It's all solid
+      common sense,&rdquo; she said in an undertone to Joan, referring, it would
+      appear, to his bulk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In only one respect was she misinformed as to the arrangements for the
+      morning. Tony Cornish was not coming to the hotel to fetch Mr. Wade and
+      White, but was to meet them in the shadiest of all thoroughfares and green
+      canals, the Koninginne Gracht, where at midday the shadows cast by the
+      great trees are so deep that daylight scarcely penetrates, and the boats
+      creep to and fro like shadows. This amendment had been made in view of the
+      fact that Lord Ferriby was in the hotel, and was, indeed, at this moment
+      partaking of a solemn breakfast in his private sitting-room overlooking
+      the Toornoifeld.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His lordship did not, therefore, see these two solid pillars of the
+      British constitution walk across the corner of the Korte Voorhout, cigar
+      in lip, in a placid silence begotten, perhaps, of the knowledge that,
+      should an emergency arise, they were of a material that would arise to
+      meet it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was awaiting them by the bank of the canal. He was watching a boat
+      slowly work its way past him. It was one of the large boats built for
+      traffic on the greater canals and the open waters of the Scheldt estuary.
+      It was laden from end to end with little square boxes bearing only a
+      number and a port mark in black stencil. A pleasant odor of sealing-wax
+      dominated the weedy smell of the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wherever you turn you meet the stuff,&rdquo; was Cornish's greeting to the two
+      Englishmen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White, with his delicate sense of smell, sniffed the breeze. Mr.
+      Wade looked at the canal-boat with a nod. Commercial enterprise, and,
+      above all, commercial success, commanded his honest respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They entered the carriage awaiting them beneath the trees. Cornish was, as
+      usual, quick and eager, a different type from his companions, who were not
+      brilliant as he was, nor polished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They found the gates of the malgamite works shut, but the door-keeper,
+      knowing Cornish to be a person of authority, threw them open and directed
+      the driver to wait outside till the gentlemen should return. The works
+      were quiet and every door was closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it mixing-day?&rdquo; asked Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every day is mixing-day now, mein Herr, and there are some who work all
+      night as well. If the gentlemen will wait a moment, I will seek Herr
+      Roden.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he left them standing beneath the brilliant sun in the open space
+      between the gate and the cottage where Von Holzen lived. In a few moments
+      he returned, accompanied by Percy Roden, who emerged from the office in
+      his shirt-sleeves, pen in hand. He shook hands with Cornish and White,
+      glanced at Mr. Wade, and half bowed. He did not seem glad to see them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We want to look at your books,&rdquo; said Cornish. &ldquo;I suppose you will make no
+      objection?&rdquo; Roden bit his moustache and looked at the point of his pen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and Major White?&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this gentleman, who comes as our financial advisor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden raised his eyebrows rather insolently. &ldquo;Ah&mdash;may I ask who this
+      gentleman is?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Wade,&rdquo; answered the banker, characteristically for himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden's face changed, and he glanced at the great financier with a keen
+      interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no objection,&rdquo; he said after a moment's hesitation. &ldquo;If Von Holzen
+      will agree. I will go and ask him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they were left alone in the sunshine once more. Mr. Wade watched Roden
+      as he walked towards the factory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not the sort of man I expected,&rdquo; he commented. &ldquo;But he has the right
+      shaped head for figures. He is shrewd enough to know that he cannot
+      refuse, so gives in with a good grace.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes Von Holzen approached them, emerging from the factory
+      alone. He bowed politely, but did not offer to shake hands. He had not
+      seen Cornish since the evening when he had offered to make malgamite
+      before him, and the experiment had taken such a deadly turn. He looked at
+      him now and found his glance returned by an illegible smile. The question
+      flashed through his mind and showed itself on his face as to why Roden had
+      made such a mistake as to introduce a man like this into the Malgamite
+      scheme. Von Holzen invited the gentlemen into the office. &ldquo;It is small,
+      but it will accommodate us,&rdquo; he said, with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew forward chairs, and offered one to Cornish in particular, with a
+      grim deference. He seemed to have divined that their last meeting in this
+      same office had been, by tacit understanding, kept a secret. There is for
+      some men a certain satisfaction in antagonism, and a stern regard for a
+      strong foe&mdash;which reached its culmination, perhaps, in that Saxon
+      knight who desired to be buried in the same chapel as his lifelong foe&mdash;between
+      him, indeed, and the door&mdash;so that at the resurrection day they
+      should not miss each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen seemed to have somewhat of this feeling for Cornish. He offered
+      him the best seat at the table. Roden was taking his books from a safe&mdash;huge
+      ledgers bound in green pigskin, slim cash-books, cloth-bound journals. He
+      named them as he laid them on the table before Mr. Wade. Major White
+      looked at the great tomes with solemn and silent awe. Mr. Wade was already
+      fingering his gold pencil-case. He eyed the closed books with an
+      anticipatory gleam of pleasure in his face&mdash;as a commander may eye
+      the arrayed squadrons of the foe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in confidence?&rdquo;
+       said Von Holzen. &ldquo;For your own satisfaction, and not in any sense for
+      publication. It is a trade secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
+      &ldquo;We trust to the honor of these gentlemen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the iron
+      mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the table&mdash;especially
+      at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face wore a careless
+      smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness of the books
+      testified to the fact that he always worked in shirt-sleeves. It was a
+      trick of the trade, which exonerated him from the necessity of
+      apologizing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with his
+      fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed to
+      recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet of
+      neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
+      unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were like
+      copper-plate&mdash;an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
+      final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid it
+      aside. Then, he turned to the slim cash-books, which he glanced at
+      casually. The journals he set aside without opening. He handled the books
+      with a sort of skill showing that he knew how to lift them with the least
+      exertion, how to open them and close them and turn their stiff pages. The
+      enormous mass of figures did not seem to appal him; the maze was straight
+      enough beneath such skillful eyes. Finally, he turned to a small locked
+      ledger, of which the key was attached to Roden's watch-chain, who came
+      forward and unlocked the book. Mr. Wade turned to the index at the
+      beginning of the volume, found a certain account, and opened the book
+      there. At the sight of the figures he raised his eyebrow and glanced up at
+      Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He had arrived at his
+      destination&mdash;had torn the heart out of these great books. All in the
+      room were watching his placid, shrewd old face. He studied the books for
+      some time and then took a sheet of blank paper from a number of such
+      attached by a string to a corner of the table. He reflected for some
+      minutes, pushing the movable part of his gold pencil in and out pensively
+      as he did so. Then he wrote a number of figures on the sheet of paper and
+      handed it to Cornish. He closed the locked ledger with a snap. The audit
+      of the malgamite books was over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a wonderful piece of single-handed bookkeeping,&rdquo; he said to Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish was studying the paper set before him by the banker. The
+      proceedings seemed to have been prearranged, for no word was exchanged.
+      There was no consultation on either side. Finally, Cornish folded the
+      paper and tore it into a hundred pieces in scrupulous adherence to Von
+      Holzen's conditions. Mr. Wade was sitting back in his chair thoughtfully
+      amusing himself with his gold pencil-case. Cornish looked at him for a
+      moment, and then spoke, addressing Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We came here to make a final proposal to you,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;to place before
+      you, in fact, our ultimatum. We do not pretend to conceal from you the
+      fact that we are anxious to avoid all publicity, all scandal. But if you
+      drive us to it, we shall unhesitatingly face both in order to close these
+      works. We do not want the Malgamite scheme to be dragged as a charity in
+      the mud, because it will inevitably drag other charities with it. There
+      are certain names connected with the scheme which we should prefer;
+      moreover, to keep from the clutches of the cheaper democratic newspapers.
+      We know the weakness of our position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we know the strength of ours,&rdquo; put in Von Holzen, quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. We recognize that also. You have hitherto slipped in between
+      international laws, and between the laws of men. Legally, we should have
+      difficulty in getting at you, but it can be done. Financially&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He paused, and looked at Mr. Wade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Financially,&rdquo; said the banker, without lifting his eyes from his pencil
+      case, &ldquo;we shall in the long run inevitably smash you&mdash;though the
+      books are all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden smiled, with his long white fingers at his moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From the figures supplied to me by Mr. Wade,&rdquo; continued Cornish, &ldquo;I see
+      that there is an enormous profit lying idle&mdash;so large a profit that
+      even between ourselves it is better not mentioned. There are, or there
+      were yesterday, two hundred and ninety-two malgamite makers in active
+      work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen made an involuntary movement, and Cornish looked at him over
+      the pile of books. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know that. And I know the number of
+      deaths. Perhaps you have not kept count, but I have. From the figures
+      supplied by Mr. Wade, I see, therefore, that we have sufficient to pension
+      off these two hundred and ninety-two men and their families&mdash;giving
+      each man one hundred and twenty pounds a year. We can also make provision
+      for the widows and orphans out of the sum I propose to withdraw from the
+      profits. There will then be left a sum representing two large fortunes&mdash;of
+      say between three and four thousand a year each. Will you and Mr. Roden
+      accept this sum, dividing it as you think fit, and hand over the works to
+      me? We ask, you to take it&mdash;no questions asked, and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lord Ferriby?&rdquo; suggested Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White made a sudden movement, but Cornish laid his hand quickly upon
+      the soldier's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will manage Lord Ferriby. What is your answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Von Holzen, instantly, as if he had long known what the
+      ultimatum would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish turned interrogatively to Roden. His eyes urged Roden to accept.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; was the reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade took out his large gold watch and looked at it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there is no need,&rdquo; he said composedly, &ldquo;to detain these gentlemen
+      any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII. COMMERCE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;The world will not believe a man repents.
+     And this wise world of ours is mainly right.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you are of opinion, my dear White, that one cannot well refuse to
+      meet these&mdash;er&mdash;persons?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not,&rdquo; replied Major White to Lord Ferriby, whose hand rested on his stout
+      arm as they walked with dignity in the shade of the trees that border the
+      Vyver&mdash;that quaint old fish-pond of The Hague&mdash;&ldquo;not without
+      running the risk of being called a d&mdash;&mdash;d swindler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the major was a lamentably plain-spoken man, who said but little, and
+      said that little strong. Lord Ferriby's affectionate grasp of the
+      soldier's arm relaxed imperceptibly. One must, he reflected, be prepared
+      to meet unpleasantness in the good cause of charity&mdash;but there are
+      words hardly applicable to the peerage, and Major White had made use of
+      one of these.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Public opinion,&rdquo; observed the major, after some minutes of deep thought,
+      &ldquo;is a difficult thing to deal with&mdash;'cos you cannot thump the
+      public.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is notably hard,&rdquo; said his lordship, firing off one of his pet
+      platform platitudes, &ldquo;to induce the public to form a correct estimate, or
+      what one takes to be a correct estimate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Especially of one's self,&rdquo; added the major, looking across the water
+      towards the Binnenhof in his vacant way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then they turned and walked back again beneath the heavy shade of the
+      trees. The conversation, and indeed this dignified promenade on the
+      Vyverberg, had been brought about by a letter which his lordship had
+      received that same morning inviting him to attend a meeting of
+      paper-makers and others interested in the malgamite trade to consider the
+      position of the malgamite charity, and the advisability of taking legal
+      proceedings to close the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. The meeting
+      was to be held at the Hôtel des Indes, at three in the afternoon, and the
+      conveners hinted pretty plainly that the proceedings would be of a
+      decisive nature. The letter left Lord Ferriby with a vague feeling of
+      discomfort. His position was somewhat isolated. A coldness had for some
+      time been in existence between himself and his nephew, Tony Cornish. Of
+      Mr. Wade, Lord Ferriby was slightly distrustful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These commercial men,&rdquo; he often said, &ldquo;are apt to hold such narrow
+      views.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And, indeed, to steer a straight course through life, one must not look to
+      one side or the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There remained Major White, of whom Lord Ferriby had thought more highly
+      since Fortune had called this plain soldier to take a seat among the gods
+      of the British public. For no man is proof against the satisfaction of
+      being able to call a celebrated person by his Christian name. The major
+      had long admired Joan, in his stupid way from, as one might say, the other
+      side of the room. But neither Lord nor Lady Ferriby had encouraged this
+      silent suit. Joan was theoretically one of those of whom it is said that
+      &ldquo;she might marry anybody,&rdquo; and who, as the keen observer may see for
+      himself, often finishes by failing to marry at all. She was pretty and
+      popular, and had, moreover, the <i>entrée</i> to the best houses. White
+      had been useful to Lord Ferriby ever since the inauguration of the
+      Malgamite scheme. He was not uncomfortably clever, like Tony Cornish. He
+      was an excellent buffer at jarring periods. Since the arrival of Joan and
+      her father at The Hague, the major had been almost a necessity in their
+      daily life, and now, quite suddenly, Lord Ferriby found that this was the
+      only person to whom he could turn for advice or support.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One cannot suppose,&rdquo; he said, in the full conviction that words will meet
+      any emergency&mdash;&ldquo;One cannot suppose that Von Holzen will act in direct
+      opposition to the voice of the majority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Von Holzen,&rdquo; replied the major, &ldquo;plays a doocid good game.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon they walked across the Toornoifeld to the Hôtel des Indes,
+      and there, in a small <i>salon</i>, found a number of gentlemen seated
+      round a table. Mr. Wade was conspicuous by his absence. They had, indeed,
+      left him in the hotel garden, sitting at the consumption of an excellent
+      cigar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Join the jocund dance?&rdquo; the major had inquired, with a jerk of the head
+      towards the Hôtel des Indes. But Mr. Wade was going for a drive with
+      Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony Cornish was, however, seated at the table, and the major recognized
+      two paper-makers whom he had seen before. One was an aggressive,
+      red-headed man, of square shoulders and a dogged appearance, who had
+      &ldquo;radical&rdquo; written all over him. The other was a mild-mannered person, with
+      a thin, ash-colored moustache. The major nodded affably. He distinctly
+      remembered offering to fight these two gentlemen either together or one
+      after the other on the landing of the little malgamite office in
+      Westminster. And there was a faint twinkle behind the major's eyeglass as
+      he saluted them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good morning, Thompson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;How do, MacHewlett?&rdquo; For he never
+      forgot a face or a name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A'hm thinking&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. MacHewlett was observing, but his
+      thoughts died a natural death at the sight of a real lord, and he rose and
+      bowed. Mr. Thompson remained seated and made that posture as aggressive
+      and obvious as possible. The remainder of the company were of varied
+      nationality and appearance, while one, a Frenchman of keen dark eyes and a
+      trim beard&mdash;seemed by tacit understanding to be the acknowledged
+      leader. Even the pushing Mr. Thompson silently deferred to him by a
+      gesture that served at once to introduce Lord Ferriby and invite the
+      Frenchman to up and smite him.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Lord Ferriby took the seat that had been left vacant for him at the
+head of the table. He looked around upon faces not too friendly.
+&ldquo;We were saying, my lord,&rdquo; said the Frenchman, in perfect English and
+with that graceful tact which belongs to France alone, &ldquo;that we have
+all been the victims of an unfortunate chain of misunderstandings.
+Had the organizers of this great charity consulted a few paper-makers
+before inaugurating the works at Scheveningen, much unpleasantness
+ might have been averted, many lives might, alas, have been spared.
+But&mdash;well&mdash;such mundane persons as ourselves were probably unknown to
+you and unthought-of; the milk is spilt, is it not so? Let us rather
+think of the future.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby bowed graciously, and Mr. Thompson moved impatiently on his
+      chair. The suave method had no attractions for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A'hm thinking,&rdquo; began Mr. MacHewlett, in his most plaintive voice, and
+      commanded so sudden and universal an attention as to be obviously
+      disconcerted, &ldquo;his lordship'll need plainer speech than that,&rdquo; he muttered
+      hastily, and subsided, with an uneasy glance in the direction of that man
+      of action, Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One misunderstanding has, however, been happily dispelled,&rdquo; said the
+      Frenchman, &ldquo;by our friend&mdash;if monsieur will permit the word&mdash;our
+      friend, Mr. Cornish. From this gentleman we have learned that the
+      executive of the Malgamite Charity are not by any means in harmony with
+      the executive of the malgamite works at Scheveningen; that, indeed, the
+      charity repudiates the action of its servants in manufacturing malgamite
+      by a dangerous process tacitly and humanely set aside by makers up to this
+      time; that the administrators of the fund are no party to the 'corner'
+      which has been established in the product; do not desire to secure a
+      monopoly, and disapprove of the sale of malgamite at a price which has
+      already closed one or two of the smaller mills, and is paralyzing the
+      paper trade of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The speaker finished with a bow towards Cornish, and resumed his seat. All
+      were watching Lord Ferriby's face, except Major White, who examined a
+      quill pen with short-sighted absorption. Lord Ferriby looked across the
+      table at Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Ferriby,&rdquo; said Cornish, without rising from his seat, and meeting
+      his uncle's glance steadily, &ldquo;will now no doubt confirm all that Monsieur
+      Creil has said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby had, in truth, come to the meeting with no such intention. He
+      had, with all his vast experience, no knowledge of a purely commercial
+      assembly such as this. His public had hitherto been a drawing-room public.
+      He was accustomed to a flower-decked platform, from which to deliver his
+      flowing periods to the emotional of both sexes. There were no flowers in
+      this room at the Hôtel des Indes, and the men before him were not of the
+      emotional school. They were, on the contrary, plain, hard-headed men of
+      business, who had come from different parts of the world at Cornish's
+      bidding to meet a crisis in a plain, hard-headed way. They had only
+      thoughts of their balance-sheets, and not of the fact that they held in
+      the hollow of their hands the lives of hundreds, nay, of thousands, of
+      men, women, and children. Monsieur Creil alone, the keen-eyed Frenchman,
+      had absolute control of over three thousand employees&mdash;married men
+      with children&mdash;but he did not think of mentioning the fact. And it is
+      a weight to carry about with one&mdash;to go to sleep with and to awake
+      with in the morning&mdash;the charge of, say, nine thousand human lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a few moments Lord Ferriby was silent. Cornish watched him across the
+      table. He knew that his uncle was no fool, although his wisdom amounted to
+      little more than the wisdom of the worldly. Would Lord Ferriby recognize
+      the situation in time? There was a wavering look in the great man's eye
+      that made his nephew suddenly anxious. Then Lord Ferriby rose slowly, to
+      make the shortest speech that he had ever made in his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I beg to confirm what has just been said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As he sat down again, Cornish gave a sharp sigh of relief. In a moment Mr.
+      Thompson was on his feet, his red face alight with democratic anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This won't do,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Let's have done with palavering and talk.
+      Let's get to plain speaking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was not Lord Ferriby, but Tony Cornish, who rose to meet the
+      attack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will sit down,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and keep your temper, you shall have
+      plain speaking, and we can get to business. But if you do neither, I shall
+      turn you out of the room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Tony. And something which Mr. Thompson did not understand
+      made him resume his seat in silence. The Frenchman smiled, and took up his
+      speech where he had left it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;speaks with authority. We are, gentlemen, in the
+      hands of Mr. Cornish, and in good hands. He has this matter at the tips of
+      his fingers. He has devoted himself to it for many months past, at
+      considerable risk, as I suspect, to his own safety. We and the thousands
+      of employees whom we represent cannot do better than entrust the situation
+      to him, and give him a free hand. For once, capital and labour have a
+      common interest&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was again interrupted by Mr. Thompson, who spoke more quietly now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems to me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that we may well consider the past for a few
+      minutes before passing on to the future. There's more than a million
+      pounds profit, at the lowest reckoning, on the last few months'
+      manufacture. Question is, where is that profit? Is this a charity, or is
+      it not? Mr. Cornish is all very well in his way. But we're not fools.
+      We're men of business, and as such can only presume that Mr. Cornish, like
+      the rest of 'em, has had his share. Question is, where are the profits?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White rose slowly. He was seated beside Mr. Thompson, and, standing
+      up, towered above him. He looked down at the irate red face with a calm
+      and wondering eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Question is,&rdquo; he said gravely, &ldquo;where the deuce you will be in a few
+      minutes if you don't shut up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Mr. Thompson once more resumed his seat. He had the
+      satisfaction, however, of perceiving that his shaft had reached its mark;
+      for Lord Ferriby looked disconcerted and angry. The chairman of many
+      charities looked, moreover, a little puzzled, as if the situation was
+      beyond his comprehension. The Frenchman's pleasant voice again broke in,
+      soothingly and yet authoritatively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cornish and a certain number of us have, for some time, been in
+      correspondence,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is unnecessary for me to suggest to my
+      present hearers that in dealing with a large industry&mdash;in handling,
+      as it were, the lives of a number of persons&mdash;it is impossible to
+      proceed too cautiously. One must look as far ahead as human foresight may
+      perceive&mdash;one must give grave and serious thought to every possible
+      outcome of action or inaction. Gentlemen, we have done our best. We are
+      now in a position to say to the administrators of the Malgamite Fund,
+      close your works and we will do the rest. And this means that we shall
+      provide for the survivors of this great commercial catastrophe, that we
+      shall care for the widows and children of the victims, that we shall
+      supply ourselves with malgamite of our own manufacture, produced only by a
+      process which is known to be harmless, that we shall make it impossible
+      that such a monopoly may again be declared. We have, so far as lies in our
+      power, provided for every emergency. We have approached the two men who,
+      from their retreat on the dunes of Scheveningen, have swayed one of the
+      large industries of the world. We have offered them a fortune. We have
+      tried threats and money, but we have failed to close them but one
+      alternative, and that is&mdash;war. We are prepared in every way. We can
+      to-morrow take over the manufacture of malgamite for the whole world&mdash;but
+      we must have the works on the dunes at Scheveningen. We must have the
+      absolute control of the Malgamite Fund and of the works. We propose,
+      gentlemen, to seize this control, and invest the supreme command in the
+      one man who is capable of exercising it&mdash;Mr. Anthony Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Frenchman sat down, looked across the table, and shrugged his
+      shoulders impatiently; for the irrepressible Thompson was already on his
+      feet. It must be remembered that Mr. Thompson worked on commission, and
+      had been hard hit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; he cried, pointing a shaking forefinger into Lord Ferriby's face,
+      &ldquo;that man has no business to be sitting there. We're honest here&mdash;if
+      we're nothing else. We all know your history, my fine gentleman; we know
+      that you cannot wipe out the past, so you're trying to whitewash it over
+      with good works. That's an old trick, and it won't go down here. Do you
+      think we don't see through you and your palavering speeches? Why have you
+      refused to take action against Roden and Von Holzen? Because they've paid
+      you. Look at him, gentlemen! He has taken money from those men at
+      Scheveningen&mdash;blood money. He has had his share. I propose that Lord
+      Ferriby explains his position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Thompson banged his fist on the table, and at the same moment sat down
+      with extreme precipitation, urged thereto by Major White's hand on his
+      collar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is not a vestry meeting,&rdquo; said the major, sternly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby had risen to his feet. &ldquo;My position, gentlemen,&rdquo; he began,
+      and then faltered, with his hand at his watch-chain. &ldquo;My position&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+       He stopped with a gulp. His face was the colour of ashes. He turned in a
+      dazed way towards his nephew; for at the beginning and the end of life
+      blood is thicker than water. &ldquo;Anthony,&rdquo; said his lordship, and sat down
+      heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All rose to their feet in confusion. Major White seemed somehow to be
+      quicker than the rest, and caught Lord Ferriby in his arms&mdash;but Lord
+      Ferriby was dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII. WITH CARE.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Some man holdeth his tongue, because he hath not to answer:
+     and some keepeth silence, knowing his time.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Those who live for themselves alone must at least have the consolatory
+      thought that when they die the world will soon console itself. For it has
+      been decreed that he who takes no heed of others shall himself be taken no
+      heed of. We soon learn to do without those who are indifferent to us and
+      useless to us. Lord Ferriby had so long and so carefully studied the <i>culte</i>
+      of self that even those nearest to him had ceased to give him any thought,
+      knowing that in his own he was in excellent hands&mdash;that he would
+      always ask for what he wanted. It was Lord Ferriby's business to make the
+      discovery (which all selfish people must sooner or later achieve) that the
+      best things in this world are precisely those which may not be given on
+      demand, and for which, indeed, one may in nowise ask.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Major White and Cornish were left alone in the private <i>salon</i>
+      of the Hôtel des Indes&mdash;when the doctor had come and gone, when the
+      blinds had been decently lowered, and the great man silently laid upon the
+      sofa&mdash;they looked at each other without speaking. The grimmest
+      silence is surely that which arises from the thought that of the dead one
+      may only say what is good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you like me,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;to go across and tell Joan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Major White, whose god was discipline, replied, &ldquo;She's your cousin. It
+      is for you to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be glad if you will go,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;and leave me to make the
+      other arrangements. Take her home tomorrow, or tonight if she wants to,
+      and leave us&mdash;me&mdash;to follow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Major White quitted the Hôtel des Indes, and walked slowly down the
+      length of the Toornoifeld, leaving Cornish alone with Lord Ferriby, whose
+      death made his nephew suddenly a richer man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Wades had gone out for a drive in the wood. Major White knew that he
+      would find Joan alone at the hotel. Bad news has a strange trick of
+      clearing the way before it. The major went to the <i>salon</i> on the
+      ground floor overlooking the corner of the Vyverberg. Joan was writing a
+      letter at the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she said, turning, pen in hand, &ldquo;you are soon back. Have you
+      quarrelled?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      White went stolidly across the room towards her. There was a chair by the
+      writing-table, and here he sat down. Joan was looking uneasily into his
+      face. Perhaps she saw more in that immovable countenance than the world
+      was pleased to perceive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father was taken suddenly ill,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;during the meeting.&rdquo; Joan
+      half rose from her chair, but the major laid his protecting hand over
+      hers. It was a large, quiet hand&mdash;like himself, somewhat suggestive
+      of a buffer. And it may, after all, be no mean <i>rôle</i> to act as a
+      buffer between one woman and the world all one's life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can do nothing,&rdquo; said White. &ldquo;Tony is with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan looked into his face in speechless inquiry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;your father is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he sat there in a silence which may have been intensely stupid or
+      very wise. For silence is usually cleverer than speech, and always more
+      interesting. Joan was dry-eyed. Well may the children of the selfish arise
+      and bless their parents for (albeit unwittingly) alleviating one of the
+      necessary sorrows of life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After a silence, Major White told Joan how the calamity had occurred, in a
+      curt military way, as of one who had rubbed shoulders with death before,
+      who had gone out, moreover, to meet him with a quiet mind, and had told
+      others of the dealings of the destroyer. For Major White was deemed a
+      lucky man by his comrades, who had a habit of giving him messages for
+      their friends before they went into the field. Perhaps, moreover, the
+      major was of the opinion of those ancient writers who seemed to deem it
+      more important to consider how a man lives than how he dies.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was some heart trouble,&rdquo; he concluded, &ldquo;brought on by worry or sudden
+      excitement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Malgamite,&rdquo; answered Joan. &ldquo;It has always been a source of uneasiness
+      to him. He never quite understood it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the major, very deliberately, &ldquo;he never quite understood
+      it.&rdquo; And he looked out of the window with a thoughtful noncommitting face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I&mdash;understand it,&rdquo; said Joan, doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the major looked suddenly dense. He had, as usual, no explanation to
+      offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was father deceived by some one?&rdquo; Joan asked, after a pause. &ldquo;One hears
+      such strange rumours about the Malgamite Fund. I suppose father was
+      deceived?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She spoke of the dead man with that hushed voice which death, with a
+      singular impartiality to race or creed, seems to demand of the survivors
+      wheresoever he passes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      White met her earnest gaze with a grave nod. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;He was
+      deceived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said before he went out that he did not want to go to the meeting at
+      all,&rdquo; went on Joan, in a tone of tender reminiscence, &ldquo;but that he had
+      always made a point of sacrificing his inclination to his sense of duty.
+      Poor father!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the major, looking out of the window. And he bore Joan's
+      steady, searching glance like a man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she said suddenly. &ldquo;Were you and Tony deceived also?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Major White reflected for a moment. It is unwise to tell even the smallest
+      lie in haste.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered at length. &ldquo;Not so entirely as your father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He uncrossed his legs, and made a feeble attempt to divert her thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Joan was on the trail as it were of a half-formed idea in her own
+      mind, and she would not have been a woman if she had relinquished the
+      quest so easily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you were deceived at first?&rdquo; she inquired, rather anxiously. &ldquo;I know
+      Tony was. I am sure of it. Perhaps he found out later; but you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her hand from under his rather hastily, having just found out
+      that it was in that equivocal position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were never deceived,&rdquo; she said, with a suspicion of resentment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;perhaps not,&rdquo; admitted the major, reluctantly. And he looked
+      regretfully at the hand she had withdrawn. &ldquo;Don't know much about
+      charities,&rdquo; he continued, after a pause. &ldquo;Don't quite look at them in the
+      right light, perhaps. Seems to me that you ought to be more business-like
+      in charities than in anything else; and we're not business men&mdash;not
+      even you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her very solemnly and wisely, as if the thoughts in his mind
+      would be of immense value if he could only express them; but he was
+      without facilities in that direction. If one cannot be wise, the next best
+      thing is to have a wise look. He rose, for he had caught sight of Tony
+      Cornish crossing the Toornoifeld in the shade of the trees. Perhaps the
+      major had forgotten for the moment that a great man was dead; that there
+      were letters to be written and telegrams to be despatched; that the world
+      must know of it, and the insatiable maw of the public be closed by a few
+      scraps of news. For the public mind must have its daily food, and the wise
+      are they who tell it only that which it is expedient for it to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Ferriby's life was, moreover, one that needed careful obituary
+      treatment. Everybody's life may for domestic purposes be described as a
+      hash; but Lord Ferriby's was a hash which in the hands of a cheap
+      democratic press might easily be served up so daintily as to be very
+      savoury in the nostrils of the world. Some of its component parts were
+      indeed exceedingly ancient, and, so to speak, gamey, while the Malgamite
+      scheme alone might easily be magnified into a very passable scandal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tony came into the room, keen and capable. He did not show much feeling.
+      Perhaps Joan and he understood each other without any such display. For
+      they had known each other many years, and had understood other and more
+      subtle matters without verbal explanation. For the world had been pleased
+      to say that Joan and Tony must in the end inevitably marry. And they had
+      never explained, never contradicted, and never married.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While the three were still talking, a carriage rattled up to the door of
+      the hotel, and then another. There began, in a word, that hushed confusion&mdash;that
+      running to and fro as of ants upon a disturbed ant-hill&mdash;which
+      follows hard upon the footsteps of the grim messenger, who himself is
+      content to come so quietly and unobtrusively. Roden arrived to make
+      inquiries, and Mrs. Vansittart, and a messenger from more than one
+      embassy. Then the Wades came, brought hurriedly back by a messenger sent
+      after them by Tony Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite, with characteristic energy, came into the room first, slim and
+      bright-eyed. She looked from one face to the other, and then crossed the
+      room and stood beside Joan without speaking. She was smiling&mdash;a
+      little hard smile with close-set lips, showing the world a face that meant
+      to take life open-eyed, as it is, and make the best of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before long the two girls quitted the room, leaving the three men to their
+      hushed discussion. Tony had already provided himself with pen and paper.
+      In twelve hours that which the world must know about Lord Ferriby should
+      be in print. There was just time to cable it to the <i>Times</i> and the
+      news agencies. And in these hurried days it is the first word which, after
+      all, goes farthest and carries most weight. A contradiction is at all
+      times a poor expedient.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have silenced the paper-makers,&rdquo; said Cornish, sitting down to write.
+      &ldquo;Even that ass Thompson, by striking while the iron was hot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Roden won't open his lips,&rdquo; added Mr. Wade, who, as he drove up, had
+      seen that brilliant financier uneasily strolling under the trees of the
+      Toornoifeld, looking towards the hotel, for Lord Ferriby's death was a
+      link in the crooked malgamite chain which even Von Holzen had failed to
+      foresee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, Lord Ferriby must have been gratified could he have seen the
+      posthumous pother that he made by dying at this juncture. For in life he
+      had only been important in his own eyes, and the world had taken little
+      heed of him. This same keen-sighted world would not regret him much now
+      and would assuredly mete out to that miserly old screw, his widow, only as
+      much sympathy as the occasion deserved. Lady Ferriby would, the world
+      suspected, sell off his lordship's fancy waistcoats, and proceed to save
+      money to her heart's content. Even the thought of his club subscriptions,
+      now necessarily to be discontinued, must have assuaged a large part of the
+      widow's grief. Such, at least, was the opinion of the clubs themselves,
+      when the news was posted up among the weather reports and the latest tapes
+      from the House that same evening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While Lord Ferriby's friends were comfortably endowing him with a few
+      compensating virtues over their tea and hot buttered toast in Pall Mall
+      and St. James's Street, Mr. Wade, Tony, and White dined together at the
+      Hotel of the Old Shooting Gallery at The Hague. The hour was an early one,
+      and had never been countenanced by Lord Ferriby, but the three men in
+      whose hands he had literally left his good name did not attach supreme
+      importance to this matter. Indeed, the banker thought kindly of six-thirty
+      as an hour at which in earlier days he had been endowed with a better
+      appetite than he ever possessed now at eight o'clock or later. While they
+      were at table a telegram was handed to Cornish. It was from Lord Ferriby's
+      solicitor in London, and contained the advice that Tony Cornish had been
+      appointed sole executor of his lordship's will.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; said Tony, with a little laugh, as he read the message and
+      handed it across to Mr. Wade, who looked at it gravely without comment.
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;not even Joan need know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Cornish, having perceived Percy Roden under the trees of the
+      Toornoifeld, had gone out there to speak to him, and in answer to a plain
+      question had received a plain answer as to the price that Lord Ferriby had
+      been paid for the use of his name in the Malgamite Fund transactions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Joan had elected to remain in her own rooms, with Marguerite to keep her
+      company, until the evening, when, under White's escort, she was to set out
+      for England. The major had in a minimum of words expressed himself ready
+      to do anything at any time, provided that the service did not require an
+      abnormal conversational effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be home twenty-four hours after you,&rdquo; said Cornish, as he bade
+      Joan good-bye at the station. &ldquo;And you need believe no rumours and fear no
+      gossip. If people ask impertinent questions, refer them to White.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'll thump them,&rdquo; added the major, who indeed looked capable of
+      rendering that practical service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were favoured by a full moon and a perfect night for their passage
+      from the Hook of Holland to Harwich. Joan expressed a desire to remain on
+      deck, at all events, until the lights of the Maas had been left behind.
+      Major White procured two deck chairs, and found a corner of the upper deck
+      which was free alike from too much wind and too many people. There they
+      sat in the shadow of a boat, and Joan seemed fully occupied with her own
+      thoughts, for she did not speak while the steamer ploughed steadily
+      onwards through the smooth water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if it is my duty to continue to take an active part in the
+      Malgamite Fund,&rdquo; she said at length.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the major, who had been permitted to smoke, looked attentively at the
+      lighted end of his cigar, and said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid it must be,&rdquo; continued Joan, whose earnest endeavours to find
+      out what was her duty, and do it, occupied the larger part of her time and
+      attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; asked Major White.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I don't want to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The major thought about the matter for a long time&mdash;almost half
+      through a cigar. It was wonderful how so much thought could result in so
+      few words, especially in these days, which are essentially days of many
+      words and few thoughts. During this period of meditation, Joan sat looking
+      out to sea, and the moon shining down upon her face showed it to be
+      puckered with anxiety. Like many of her contemporaries, she was troubled
+      by an intense desire to do her duty, coupled with an unfortunate lack of
+      duties to perform.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish you would tell me what you think,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Seems to me,&rdquo; said White, &ldquo;that your duty is clear enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Drop the Malgamiters and the Haberdashers and all that, and&mdash;marry
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Joan only shook her head sadly. &ldquo;That cannot be my duty,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? 'Cos it isn't unpleasant enough?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Joan, after a pause, in the deepest earnestness&mdash;&ldquo;no&mdash;that's
+      just it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Out of which ambiguous observation the major seemed to gather some
+      meaning, for he looked up at the moon with one of his most vacant smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX. A LESSON.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Whom the gods mean to destroy, they blind.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart had passed the age of blind love. She had not the
+      incentive of a healthy competition. She had not that more dangerous
+      incentive of middle-aged vanity, which draws the finger of derision so
+      often in the direction of widows. And yet she took a certain pleasure in
+      playing a half-careless and wholly cynical Juliet to Percy Roden's <i>gauche</i>
+      Romeo. She had no intention of marrying him, and yet she continued to
+      encourage him even now that open war was declared between Cornish and the
+      malgamite makers. Cornish had indeed thanked Mrs. Vansittart for her
+      assistance in the past in such a manner as to convey to her that she could
+      hardly be of use to him in the future. He had magnified her good offices,
+      and had warned her to beware of arousing Von Holzen's anger. Indeed, her
+      use of Percy Roden was at an end, and yet she would not let him go.
+      Cornish was puzzled, and so was Dorothy. Percy Roden was gratified, and
+      read the riddle by the light of his own vanity. Mrs. Vansittart was not,
+      perhaps, the first woman to puzzle her neighbours by refusing to
+      relinquish that which she did not want. She was not the first, perhaps, to
+      nurse a subtle desire to play some part in the world rather than be left
+      idle in the wings. So she played the part that came first and easiest to
+      her hand&mdash;a woman's natural part, of stirring up strife between men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was, therefore, gratified when Von Holzen made his way slowly towards
+      her through the crowd on the Kursaal terrace one afternoon on the occasion
+      of a Thursday concert. She was sitting alone in a far corner of the
+      terrace, protected by a glass screen from the wind which ever blows at
+      Scheveningen. She never mingled with the summer visitors at this popular
+      Dutch resort&mdash;indeed, knew none of them. Von Holzen seemed to be
+      similarly situated; but Mrs. Vansittart knew that he did not seek her out
+      on that account. He was not a man to do anything&mdash;much less be
+      sociable&mdash;out of idleness. He only dealt with his fellow-beings when
+      he had a use for them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She returned his grave bow with an almost imperceptible movement of the
+      head, and for a moment they looked hard at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame still lingers at The Hague,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is the game worth the candle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his hand tentatively on a chair, and looked towards her with an
+      interrogative glance. He would not, it appeared, sit down without her
+      permission. And, womanlike, she gave it, with a shrug of one shoulder. A
+      woman rarely refuses a challenge. &ldquo;And is the game worth the candle?&rdquo; he
+      repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One can only tell when it is played out,&rdquo; was the reply; and Herr von
+      Holzen glanced quickly at the lady who made it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned away and listened to the music. An occasional concert was the
+      one diversion he allowed himself at this time from his most absorbing
+      occupation of making a fortune. He had probably a real love of music,
+      which is not by any means given to the good only, or the virtuous. Indeed,
+      it is the art most commonly allied to vice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; said Von Holzen, after a pause, &ldquo;that paper which it pleased
+      madame's fantasy to possess at one time&mdash;is destroyed. Its teaching
+      exists only in my unworthy brain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and looked at her with his slow smile, his measuring eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; so madame need give the question no more thought, and may turn her
+      full attention to her new&mdash;fancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart was studying her programme, and did not look up or display
+      the slightest interest in what he was saying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Every event seems but to serve to strengthen our position,&rdquo; went on Von
+      Holzen, still half listening to the music. &ldquo;Even the untimely death of
+      Lord Ferriby&mdash;which might at first have appeared a <i>contretemps</i>.
+      Cornish takes home the coffin by tonight's mail, I understand. Men may
+      come, madame, and men may go&mdash;but we go on for ever. We are still
+      prosperous&mdash;despite our friends. And Cornish is nonplussed. He does
+      not know what to do next, and fate seems to be against him. He has no
+      luck. We are manufacturing&mdash;day and night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are interested in Mr. Cornish,&rdquo; observed Mrs. Vansittart, coolly; and
+      she saw a sudden gleam in Von Holzen's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After all, the man had a passion over which his control was insecure&mdash;the
+      last, the longest of the passions&mdash;hatred. He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has forced himself upon our notice&mdash;unnecessarily as the result
+      has proved&mdash;only to find out that there is no stopping us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He could scarcely control his voice as he spoke of Cornish, and looked
+      away as if fearing to show the expression of his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart watched him with a cool little smile. Von Holzen had not
+      come here to talk of Cornish. He had come on purpose to say something
+      which he had not succeeded in saying yet, and she was not ignorant of
+      this. She was going to make it as difficult as possible for him, so that
+      when he at last said what he had come to say, she should know it, and
+      perhaps divine his motives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even now,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;we have succeeded beyond our expectations. We
+      are rich men, so that madame&mdash;need delay no longer.&rdquo; He turned and
+      looked her straight in the eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; she inquired, with raised eyebrows. &ldquo;Need delay no longer&mdash;in
+      what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In consummating the happiness of my partner, Percy Roden,&rdquo; he was clever
+      enough to say without being impertinent. &ldquo;He&mdash;and his banking account&mdash;are
+      really worth the attention of any lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart laughed, and, before answering, acknowledged stiffly the
+      stiff salutation of a passer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is suggested that I am waiting for Mr. Roden to be rich enough in
+      order to marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the talk of gossips and servants.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart looked at him with an amused smile. Did he really know so
+      little of the world as to take his information from gossips and servants?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; she said, and that was all. She rose and made a little signal with
+      her parasol to her coachman, who was waiting in the shadow of the Kursaal.
+      As she drove home, she wondered why Von Holzen was afraid that she should
+      marry Percy Roden, who, as it happened, was coming to tea in Park Straat
+      that evening. Mrs. Vansittart had not exactly invited him&mdash;not, at
+      all events, that he was aware of. He was under the impression that he had
+      himself proposed the visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She remembered that he was coming, but gave no further thought to him. All
+      her mind was, indeed, absorbed with thoughts of Von Holzen, whom she hated
+      with the dull and deadly hatred of the helpless. The sight of him, the
+      sound of his voice, stirred something within her that vibrated for hours,
+      so that she could think of nothing else&mdash;could not even give her
+      attention to the little incidents of daily life. She pretended to herself
+      that she sought retribution&mdash;that she wished on principle to check a
+      scoundrel in his successful career. The heart, however, knows no
+      principles; for these are created by and belong to the mind. Which
+      explains why many women seem to have no principles and many virtuous
+      persons no heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Vansittart went home to make a careful toilet pending the arrival of
+      Percy Roden. She came down to the drawing-room, and stood idly at the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The talk of gossips and servants,&rdquo; she repeated bitterly to herself. One
+      of Von Holzen's shafts had, at all events, gone home. And Percy Roden came
+      into the room a few minutes afterwards. His manner had more assurance than
+      when he had first made Mrs. Vansittart's acquaintance. He had, perhaps, a
+      trifle less respect for the room and its occupant. Mrs. Vansittart had
+      allowed him to come nearer to her; and when a woman allows a man of whom
+      she has a low opinion to come near to her, she trifles with her own
+      self-respect, and does harm which, perhaps, may never be repaired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was too busy to go to the concert this afternoon,&rdquo; he said, sitting
+      down in his loose-limbed way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His assumption that his absence had been noticed rather nettled his
+      hearer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah! Were you not there?&rdquo; she inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned and looked at her with his curt laugh. &ldquo;If I had been there you
+      would have known it,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was just one of those remarks&mdash;delivered in the half-mocking voice
+      assumed in self-protection&mdash;which Mrs. Vansittart had hitherto
+      allowed to pass unchallenged. And now, quite suddenly, she resented the
+      manner and the speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; she said, with a subtle inflection of tone which should have
+      warned him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was engaged in drawing down his cuffs. Many young men would know
+      more of the world if they had no cuffs or collars to distract them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Roden; &ldquo;if I had gone to the concert it would not have
+      been for the music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Percy Roden's method of making love was essentially modern. He threw to
+      Mrs. Vansittart certain scraps of patronage and admiration, which she
+      could pick up seriously and keep if she cared to. But he was not going to
+      risk a wound to his vanity by taking the initiative too earnestly. Mrs.
+      Vansittart, who was busy at the tea-table, set down a cup which she had in
+      her hand and crossed the room towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean, Mr. Roden?&rdquo; she asked slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up with wavering eyes, and visibly lost colour under her gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do I mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. What do you mean when you say that, if you had gone to the concert,
+      it would not have been for the music; that if you had been there, I should
+      have known of your presence, and a hundred other&mdash;impertinences?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At first Roden thought that the way was being made easy for him as it is
+      in books, as, indeed, it sometimes is in life, when it happens to be a way
+      that is not worth the treading; but the last word stung him like a lash&mdash;as
+      it was meant to sting. It was, perhaps, that one word that made him rise
+      from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you meant to object to anything that I may say, you should have done
+      so long ago,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Who was the first to speak at the hotel when I
+      came to The Hague? Which of us was it that kept the friendship up and
+      cultivated it? I am not blind. I could hardly be anything else, if I had
+      failed to see what you have meant all along.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I meant all along?&rdquo; she asked, with a strange little smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you have meant me to say such things as I have said, and perhaps
+      more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;More&mdash;what can you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him still with a smile, which he did not understand. And,
+      like many men, he allowed his vanity to explain things which his
+      comprehension failed to elucidate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, after a moment's hesitation, &ldquo;will you marry me? There!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Roden, I will not,&rdquo; she answered promptly; and then suddenly her
+      eyes flashed, at some recollection, perhaps&mdash;at some thought
+      connected with her happy past contrasted with this sordid, ignoble
+      present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Marry you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; he asked, with a bitter little laugh, &ldquo;what is there wrong with
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know what there is wrong with you. And I am not interested to
+      inquire. But, so far as I am concerned, there is nothing right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A woman's answer after all, and one of those reasons which are no reasons,
+      and yet rule the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at her, completely puzzled. In a flash of thought he recalled
+      Dorothy's warning, and her incomprehensible foresight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; he said, lapsing in his self-forgetfulness into the terse language
+      of his everyday life and thought, &ldquo;what on earth have you been driving at
+      all along?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been driving at Herr von Holzen and the Malgamite scheme. I have
+      been helping Tony Cornish,&rdquo; she answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So Percy Roden quitted the house at the corner of Park Straat a wiser man,
+      and perhaps he left a wiser woman in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said Mrs. Vansittart to Marguerite Wade, long afterwards, when
+      a sort of friendship had sprung up and ripened between them&mdash;&ldquo;my
+      dear, never let a man ask you to marry him unless you mean to say yes. It
+      will do neither of you any good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Marguerite, who never allowed another the last word, gave a shrewd
+      little nod before she answered&mdash;&ldquo;I always say no&mdash;before they
+      ask me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX. ON THE QUEEN'S CANAL.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;There's not a crime&mdash;
+     But takes its proper change still out in crime
+     If once rung on the counter of this world.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Cornish went back to The Hague immediately after Lord Ferriby's funeral
+      because it has been decreed that for all men, this large world shall
+      sooner or later narrow down to one city, perhaps, or one village, or a
+      single house. For a man's life is always centred round a memory or a hope,
+      and neither of those requires much space wherein to live. Tony Cornish's
+      world had narrowed to the Villa des Dunes on the sandhills of
+      Scheveningen, and his mind's eye was always turned in that direction. His
+      one thought at this time was to protect Dorothy&mdash;to keep, if
+      possible, the name she bore from harm and ill-fame. Each day that passed
+      meant death to the malgamite workers. He could not delay. He dared not
+      hurry. He wrote again to Percy Roden from London, amid the hurried
+      preparations for the funeral, and begged him to sever his connection with
+      Von Holzen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not have time,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;to answer this before I leave for The
+      Hague. I shall stay on the Toornoifeld as usual, and hope to arrive about
+      nine o'clock to-morrow evening. I shall leave the hotel about a
+      quarter-past nine and walk down the right-hand bank of the Koninginne
+      Gracht, and should like to meet you by the canal, where we can have a
+      talk. I have many reasons to submit to your consideration why it will be
+      expedient for you to come over to my side in this difference now, which I
+      cannot well set down on paper. And remember that between men of the world,
+      such as I suppose we may take ourselves to be, there is no question of one
+      of us judging the other. Let me beg of you to consider your position in
+      regard to the Malgamite scheme&mdash;and meet me to-morrow night between
+      the Malie Veld and the Achter Weg about half-past nine. I cannot see you
+      at the works, and it would be better for you not to come to my hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The letter was addressed to the Villa des Dunes, where Roden received it
+      the next morning. Dorothy saw it, and guessed from whom it was, though she
+      hardly knew her lover's writing. He had adhered firmly to his resolution
+      to keep himself in the background until he had finished the work he had
+      undertaken. He had not written to her; had scarcely seen her. Roden read
+      the letter, and put it in his pocket without a word. It had touched his
+      vanity. He had had few dealings with men of the standing and position of
+      Cornish, and here was this peer's nephew and peer's grandson appealing to
+      him as to a friend, classing him together with himself as a man of the
+      world. No man has so little discretion as a vain man. It is almost
+      impossible for him to keep silence when speech will make for his
+      glorification. Roden arrived at the works well pleased with himself, and
+      found Von Holzen in their little office, put out, ill at ease,
+      domineering. It was unfortunate, if you will. Percy Roden was always ready
+      to perceive his own ill-fortune, and looked back later to this as one of
+      his most untoward hours. Life, however, should surely consist of seizing
+      the fortunate and fighting through the ill moments&mdash;else why should
+      men have heart and nerve?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In such humours as they found themselves it did not take long for these
+      two men to discover a question upon which to differ. It was a mere matter
+      of detail connected with the money at that time passing through their
+      hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; said Roden, in the course of a useless and trivial dispute&mdash;&ldquo;of
+      course you think you know best, but you know nothing of finance&mdash;remember
+      that. Everybody knows that it is I who have run that part of the business.
+      Ask old Wade, or White&mdash;or Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The argument had, in truth, been rather one-sided. For Roden had done all
+      the talking, while Von Holzen looked at him with a quiet eye and a silent
+      contempt that made him talk all the more. Von Holzen did not answer now,
+      though his eye lighted at the mention of Cornish's name. He merely looked
+      at Roden with a smile, which conveyed as clearly as words Von Holzen's
+      suggestion that none of the three men named would be prepared to give
+      Roden a very good character. &ldquo;I had a letter, by the way, from Cornish
+      this morning,&rdquo; said Roden, lapsing into his grander manner, which Von
+      Holzen knew how to turn to account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah&mdash;bah!&rdquo; he exclaimed sceptically. And that lurking vanity of the
+      inferior to lessen his own inferiority did the rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you don't believe me, there you are,&rdquo; said Roden, throwing the letter
+      upon the table&mdash;not ill-pleased, in the heat of the moment, to show
+      that he was a more important person than his companion seemed to think.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen read the letter slowly and thoughtfully. The fact that it was
+      evidently intended for Roden's private eye did not seem to affect one or
+      the other of these two men, who had travelled, with difficulty, along the
+      road to fortune, only reaching their bourn at last with a light stock of
+      scruples and a shattered code of honour. Then he folded it, and handed it
+      back. He was not likely to forget a word of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you will go,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It will be interesting to hear what he
+      has to say. That letter is a confession of weakness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In making which statement Von Holzen showed his own weak point. For, like
+      many clever men, he utterly failed to give to women their place&mdash;the
+      leading place&mdash;in the world's history, as in the little histories of
+      our daily lives. He never detected Dorothy between every line of Cornish's
+      letter, and thought that it had only been dictated by inability to meet
+      the present situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot very well refuse to go since the fellow asks me,&rdquo; said Roden,
+      grandly. He might as well have displayed his grandeur to a statue. If love
+      is blind, self-love is surely half-witted as well, for it never sees nor
+      understands that the world is fooling it. Roden failed to heed the
+      significant fact that Von Holzen did not even ask him what line of conduct
+      he intended to follow with regard to Cornish, nor seek in his autocratic
+      way to instruct him on that point; but turned instead to other matters and
+      did not again refer to Cornish or the letter he had written.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the day wore on while Cornish impatiently walked the deck of the
+      steamer, ploughing its way across the North Sea, through showers and
+      thunderstorms and those grey squalls that flit to and fro on the German
+      Ocean. And some tons of malgamite were made, while a manufacturer or two
+      of the grim product laid aside his tools forever, while the money flowed
+      in, and Otto von Holzen thought out his deep silent plans over his vats
+      and tanks and crucibles. And all the while those who write in the book of
+      fate had penned the last decree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish arrived punctually at The Hague. He drove to the hotel, where he
+      was known, where, indeed, he had never relinquished his room. There was no
+      letter for him&mdash;no message from Percy Roden. But Von Holzen had
+      unobtrusively noted his arrival at the station from the crowded retreat of
+      the second-class waiting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The day had been a very hot one, and from canal and dyke arose that sedgy
+      odour which comes with the cool of night in all Holland. It is hardly
+      disagreeable, and conveys no sense of unhealthiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It seems merely to be the breath of still waters, and, in hot weather,
+      suggests very pleasantly the relief of northern night. The Hague has two
+      dominant smells. In winter, when the canals are frozen, the reek of
+      burning-peat is on the air and in the summer the odour of slow waters.
+      Cornish knew them both. He knew everything about this old-world city,
+      where the turning-point of his life had been fixed. It was deserted now.
+      The great houses, the theatre&mdash;the show-places&mdash;were closed. The
+      Toornoifeld was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hotel porter, aroused by the advent of the traveller from an
+      after-dinner nap in his little glass box, spread out his hands with a
+      gesture of surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The season is over,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We are empty. Why you come to The Hague
+      now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even the sentries at the end of the Korte Voorhout wore a holiday air of
+      laxness, and swung their rifles idly. Cornish noticed that only half of
+      the lamps were lighted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The banks of the Queen's Canal are heavily shaded by trees, which, indeed,
+      throw out their branches to meet above the weed-sown water. There is a
+      broad thoroughfare on either side of the canal, though little traffic
+      passes that way. These are two of the many streets of The Hague which seem
+      to speak of a bygone day, when Holland played a greater part in the
+      world's history than she does at present, for the houses are bigger than
+      the occupants must need, and the streets are too wide for the traffic
+      passing through them. In the middle the canal&mdash;a gloomy corridor
+      beneath the trees&mdash;creeps noiselessly towards the sea. Cornish was
+      before the appointed hour, and walked leisurely by the pathway between the
+      trees and the canal. Soon the houses were left behind, and he passed the
+      great open space called the Malie Veld. He had met no one since leaving
+      the guard-house. It was a dark night, with no moon, but the stars were
+      peeping through the riven clouds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless he stands under a lamp, I shall not see him,&rdquo; he said to himself,
+      and lighted a cigar to indicate his whereabouts to Roden, should he elect
+      to keep the appointment. When he had gone a few paces farther he saw
+      someone coming towards him. There was a lamp halfway between them, and, as
+      he approached the light, Cornish recognized Roden. There was no mistaking
+      the long loose stride.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;if this is going to the end?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he went forward to meet the financier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid you would not come,&rdquo; he said, in a voice that was friendly
+      enough, for he was a man of the world, and in that which is called Society
+      (with a capital letter) had rubbed elbows all his life with many who had
+      no better reputation than Percy Roden, and some who deserved a worse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't mind coming,&rdquo; answered Roden, &ldquo;because I did not want to keep
+      you waiting here in the dark. But it is no good, I tell you that at the
+      outset.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And nothing I can say will alter your decision?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. A man does not get two such chances as this in his lifetime. I
+      am not going to throw this one away for the sake of a sentiment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sentiment hardly describes the case,&rdquo; said Cornish, thoughtfully. &ldquo;Do you
+      mean to tell me that you do not care about all these deaths&mdash;about
+      these poor devils of malgamiters?&rdquo; And he looked hard at his companion
+      beneath the lamp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a d&mdash;n,&rdquo; answered Roden. &ldquo;I have been poor&mdash;you haven't.
+      Why, man! I have starved inside a good coat. You don't know what that
+      means.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish looked at him, and said nothing. There was no mistaking the man's
+      sincerity&mdash;nor the manner in which his voice suddenly broke when he
+      spoke of hunger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then there are only two things left for me to do,&rdquo; said Cornish, after a
+      moment's reflection. &ldquo;Ask your sister to marry me first, and smash you up
+      afterwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden, who was smoking, threw his cigarette away. &ldquo;You mean to do both
+      these things?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden looked at him. He opened his lips to speak, but suddenly leapt back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out!&rdquo; he cried, and had barely time to point over Cornish's
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish swung round on his heel. He belonged to a school and generation
+      which, with all its faults, has, at all events, the redeeming quality of
+      courage. He had long learnt to say the right thing, which effectually
+      teaches men to do the right thing also. He saw some one running towards
+      him, noiselessly, in rubber shoes. He had no time to think, and scarce a
+      moment in which to act, for the man was but two steps away with an
+      upraised arm, and in the lamplight there flashed the gleam of steel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish concentrated his attention on the upraised arm, seizing it with
+      both hands, and actually swinging his assailant off his legs. He knew in
+      an instant who it was, without needing to recognize the smell of
+      malgamite. This was Otto von Holzen, who had not hesitated to state his
+      opinion&mdash;that it is often worth a man's while to kill another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While his feet were still off the ground, Cornish let him go, and he
+      staggered away into the darkness of the trees. Cornish, who was lithe and
+      quick, rather than of great physical force, recovered his balance in a
+      moment, and turned to face the trees. He knew that Von Holzen would come
+      back. He distinctly hoped that he would. For man is essentially the first
+      of the &ldquo;game&rdquo; animals and beneath fine clothes there nearly always beats a
+      heart ready, quite suddenly, to snatch the fearful joy of battle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Von Holzen did not disappoint him, but came flying on silent feet, like
+      some beast of prey, from the darkness. Cornish had played half-back for
+      his school not so many years before. He collared Von Holzen low, and let
+      him go, with a cruel skill, heavily on his head and shoulder. Not a word
+      had been spoken, and, in the stillness of the summer night, each could
+      hear the other breathing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden stood quite still. He could scarcely distinguish the antagonists.
+      His own breath came whistling through his teeth. His white face was
+      ghastly and twitching. His sleepy eyes were awake now, and staring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each charge had left Cornish nearer to the canal. He was standing now
+      quite at the edge. He could smell, but he could not see the water, and
+      dared not turn his head to look. There is no railing here as there is
+      nearer the town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a moment, Von Holzen was on his feet again. In the dark, mere inches
+      are much equalized between men&mdash;but Von Holzen had a knife. Cornish,
+      who held nothing in his hands, knew that he was at a fatal disadvantage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again, Von Holzen ran at him with his arm outstretched for a swinging
+      stab. Cornish, in a flash of thought, recognized that he could not meet
+      this. He stepped neatly aside. Von Holzen attempted to stop stumbled, half
+      recovered himself, and fell headlong into the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a moment Cornish and Roden were at the edge, peering into the darkness.
+      Cornish gave a breathless laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall have to fish him out,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And he knelt down, ready to give a hand to Von Holzen. But the water,
+      smooth again now, was not stirred by so much as a ripple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose he can swim?&rdquo; muttered Roden, uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they waited in a breathless silence. There was something horrifying in
+      the single splash, and then the stillness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gad!&rdquo; whispered Cornish. &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden struck a match, and held it inside his hat so as to form a sort of
+      lantern, though the air was still enough. Cornish did the same, and they
+      held the lights out over the water, throwing the feeble rays right across
+      the canal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He cannot have swum away,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Von Holzen,&rdquo; he cried out
+      cautiously, after another pause&mdash;&ldquo;Von Holzen&mdash;where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But there was no answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The surface of the canal was quite still and glassy in those parts that
+      were not covered by the close-lying duck-weed. The water crept stealthily,
+      slimily, towards the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men held their breath and waited. Cornish was kneeling at the edge
+      of the water, peering over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Gad! Roden, where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Roden, in a hoarse voice, answered at length &ldquo;He is in the mud at the
+      bottom&mdash;head downwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI. AT THE CORNER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;L'homme s'agite et Dieu le mêne.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The two men on the edge of the canal waited and listened again. It seemed
+      still possible that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness&mdash;had
+      perhaps landed safely and unperceived on the other side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; said Cornish, at length, &ldquo;is a police affair. Will you wait here
+      while I go and fetch them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Roden made no answer, and in the sudden silence Cornish heard the
+      eerie sound of chattering teeth. Percy Roden had morally collapsed. His
+      mind had long been t a great tension, and this shock had unstrung him.
+      Cornish seized him by the arm, and held him while he hook like a leaf and
+      swayed heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, man,&rdquo; said Cornish, kindly&mdash;&ldquo;come, pull yourself together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held him steadily and patiently until the shaking eased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go,&rdquo; said Roden, at length. &ldquo;I couldn't stay ere alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And he staggered away towards The Hague. It seemed hours before he came
+      back. A carriage rattled past Cornish while he waited there, and two
+      foot-passengers paused for a moment to look at him with some suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last Roden returned, accompanied by a police official&mdash;a
+      phlegmatic Dutchman, who listened to the story in silence. He shook his
+      head at Cornish's suggestion, made in halting Dutch mingled with German,
+      that Von Holzen had swum away in the darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the officer, &ldquo;I know these canals&mdash;and this above all
+      others. They will find him, planted in the mud at the bottom, head
+      downward like a tulip. The head goes in and the hands are powerless, for
+      they only grasp soft mud like a fresh junket.&rdquo; He drew his short sword
+      from its sheath, and scratched a deep mark in the gravel. Then he turned
+      to the nearest tree, and made a notch on the bark with the blade. &ldquo;There
+      is nothing to be done tonight,&rdquo; he said philosophically. &ldquo;There are men
+      engaged in dredging the canal. I will set them to work at dawn before the
+      world is astir. In the mean time&rdquo;&mdash;he paused to return his sword to
+      its scabbard&mdash;&ldquo;in the meantime I must have the names and residence of
+      these gentlemen. It is not for me to believe or disbelieve their story.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you go home alone? Are you all right now?&rdquo; Cornish asked Roden, as he
+      walked away with him towards the Villa des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I can go home alone,&rdquo; he answered, and walked on by himself,
+      unsteadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish watched him, and, before he had gone twenty yards, Roden stopped.
+      &ldquo;Cornish!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And they walked towards each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know that Von Holzen was there. You will believe that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; I will believe that,&rdquo; answered Cornish.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they parted a second time. Cornish walked slowly back to the hotel. He
+      limped a little, for Von Holzen had in the struggle kicked him on the
+      ankle. He suddenly felt very tired, but was not shaken. On the contrary,
+      he felt relieved, as if that which he had been attempting so long had been
+      suddenly taken from his hands and consummated by a higher power, with whom
+      all responsibility rested. He went to bed with a mechanical deliberation,
+      and slept instantly. The daylight was streaming into the window when he
+      awoke. No one sleeps very heavily at The Hague&mdash;no one knows why&mdash;and
+      Cornish awoke with all his senses about him at the opening of his bedroom
+      door. Roden had come in and was standing by the bedside. His eyes had a
+      sleepless look. He looked, indeed, as if he had been up all night, and had
+      just had a bath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say,&rdquo; he said, in his hollow voice&mdash;&ldquo;I say, get up. They have
+      found him&mdash;and we are wanted. We have to go and identify him&mdash;and
+      all that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While Cornish was dressing, Roden sat heavily down on a chair near the
+      window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hope you'll stick by me,&rdquo; he said, and, pausing, stretched out his hand
+      to the washing-stand to pour himself out a glass of water&mdash;&ldquo;I hope
+      you'll stick by me. I'm so confoundedly shaky. Don't know what it is&mdash;look
+      at my hand.&rdquo; He held out his hand, which shook like a drunkard's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is only nerves,&rdquo; said Cornish, who was ever optimistic and cheerful.
+      He was too wise to weigh carefully his reasons for looking at the best
+      side of events. &ldquo;That is nothing. You have not slept, I expect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; I've been thinking. I say, Cornish&mdash;you must stick by me&mdash;I
+      have been thinking. What am I to do with the malgamiters? I cannot manage
+      the devils as Von Holzen did. I'm&mdash;I'm a bit afraid of them,
+      Cornish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that will be all right. Why, we have Wade, and can send for White if
+      we want him. Do not worry yourself about that. What you want is breakfast.
+      Have you had any?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I left the house before Dorothy was awake or the servants were down.
+      She knows nothing. Dorothy and I have not hit it off lately.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish made no answer. He was ringing the bell, and ordered coffee when
+      the waiter came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Haven't met any incident in life yet,&rdquo; he said cheerfully, &ldquo;that seemed
+      to justify missing out meals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The incident that awaited them was not, however, a pleasant one, though
+      the magistrate in attendance afforded a courteous assistance in the
+      observance of necessary formalities. Both men made a deposition before
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know something,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, &ldquo;of this malgamite business. We
+      have had our eye upon Von Holzen for some time&mdash;if only on account of
+      the death-rate of the city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They breathed more freely when they were out in the street. Cornish made
+      some unimportant remark, which the other did not answer. So they walked on
+      in silence. Presently, Cornish glanced at his companion, and was startled
+      at the sight of his face, which was grey, and glazed all over with
+      perspiration, as an actor's face may sometimes be at the end of a great
+      act. Then he remembered that Roden had not spoken for a long time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't you see?&rdquo; gasped Roden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;See what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The things they had laid on the table beside him. The things they found
+      in his hands and his pockets.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The knife, you mean,&rdquo; said Cornish, whose nerves were worthy of the blood
+      that flowed in his veins, &ldquo;and some letters?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; the knife was mine. Everybody knows it. It is an old dagger that has
+      always lain on a table in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never been in the drawing room at the Villa des Dunes, except once
+      by lamplight,&rdquo; said Cornish, indifferently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden turned and looked at him with eyes still dull with fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And among the letters was the one you wrote to me making the appointment.
+      He must have stolen it from the pocket of my office coat, which I never
+      wear while I am working.&rdquo; Cornish was nodding his head slowly. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; he
+      said, at length&mdash;&ldquo;I see. It was a pretty <i>coup</i>. To kill me, and
+      fix the crime on you&mdash;and hang you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Roden, with a sudden laugh, which neither forgot to his dying
+      day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence. For there are times in nearly every man's life
+      when events seem suddenly to outpace thought, and we can only act as seems
+      best at the moment; times when the babbler is still and the busybody at
+      rest; times when the cleverest of us must recognize that the long and
+      short of it all is that man agitates himself and God leads him. At the
+      corner of the Vyverberg they parted&mdash;Cornish to return to his hotel,
+      Roden to go back to the works. His carriage was awaiting him in a shady
+      corner of the Binnenhof. For Roden had his carriage now, and, like many
+      possessing suddenly such a vehicle, spent much time and thought in getting
+      his money's worth out of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you want me, send for me, or come to the hotel,&rdquo; were Cornish's last
+      words, as he shut the successful financier into his brougham.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the hotel, Cornish found Mr. Wade and Marguerite lingering over a late
+      breakfast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look,&rdquo; said Marguerite, &ldquo;as if you had been up to something.&rdquo; She
+      glanced at him shrewdly. &ldquo;Have you smashed Roden's Corner?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; answered Cornish, turning to Mr. Wade; &ldquo;and if you will come out
+      into the garden, I will tell you how it has been done. Monsieur Creil said
+      that the paper-makers could begin supplying themselves with malgamite at a
+      day's notice. We must give them that notice this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Wade, who was never hurried and never late, paused at the open window
+      to light his cigar before following Marguerite.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; he said placidly, &ldquo;then fortune must have favored you, or something
+      has happened to Von Holzen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish knew that it was useless to attempt to conceal anything whatsoever
+      from the discerning Marguerite, so&mdash;in the quiet garden of the hotel,
+      where the doves murmur sleepily on the tiles, and the breeze only stirs
+      the flowers and shrubs sufficiently to disseminate their scents&mdash;he
+      told father and daughter the end of Roden's Corner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They were still in the garden, an hour later, writing letters and
+      telegrams, and making arrangements to meet this new turn in events, when
+      Dorothy Roden came down the iron steps from the verandah.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She hurried towards them and shook hands, without explaining her sudden
+      arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Percy here?&rdquo; she asked Cornish. &ldquo;Have you seen him this morning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not here, but I parted from him a couple of hours ago on the
+      Vyverberg. He was going down to the works.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he never got there,&rdquo; said Dorothy. &ldquo;I have had nearly all the
+      malgamiters at the Villa des Dunes. They are in open rebellion, and if
+      Percy had been there they would have killed him. They have heard a report
+      that Herr von Holzen is dead. Is it true?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes. Von Holzen is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they broke into the office. They got at the books. They found out the
+      profits that have been made and they are perfectly wild with fury. They
+      would have wrecked the Villa des Dunes, but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they were afraid of you, my dear,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, filling in the
+      blank that Dorothy left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well played,&rdquo; muttered Marguerite, with shining eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish had risen, and was folding away his papers. &ldquo;I will go down to the
+      works,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you cannot go there alone,&rdquo; put in Dorothy, quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will not need to do that,&rdquo; said Mr. Wade, throwing the end of his
+      cigar into the bushes, and rising heavily from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite looked at her father with a little upward jerk of the head and
+      a light in her eyes. It was quite evident that she approved of the old
+      gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's a game old thing,&rdquo; she said, aside to Dorothy, while her father
+      collected his papers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother has probably been warned in time, and will not go near the
+      works,&rdquo; said Cornish to Dorothy. &ldquo;He was more than prepared for such an
+      emergency; for he told me himself that he was half afraid of the men. He
+      is almost sure to come to me here&mdash;in fact, he promised to do so if
+      he wanted help.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dorothy looked at him, and said nothing. The world would be a simpler
+      dwelling-place if those who, for one reason or another, cannot say exactly
+      what they mean would but keep silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish told her, hurriedly, what had happened twelve hours ago on the
+      bank of the Queen's Canal; and the thought of the misspent, crooked life
+      that had ended in the black waters of that sluggish tideway made them all
+      silent for a while. For death is in itself dignified, and demands respect
+      for all with whom he has dealings. Many attain the distinction of vice in
+      life, while more only reach the mere mediocrity of foolishness; but in
+      death all are equally dignified. We may, indeed, assume that we shall, by
+      dying, at last command the respect of even our nearest relations and
+      dearest friend&mdash;for a week or two, until they forget us.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was a clever man,&rdquo; commented Mr. Wade, shutting up his gold pencil
+      case and putting it in the pocket of his comfortable waistcoat. &ldquo;But
+      clever men are rarely happy&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And clever women&mdash;never,&rdquo; added Marguerite&mdash;that shrewd seeker
+      after the last word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While they were still speaking, Percy Roden came hurriedly down the steps.
+      He was pale and tired, but his eye had a light of resolution in it. He
+      held his head up, and looked at Cornish with a steady glance. It seemed
+      that the vague danger which he had anticipated so nervously had come at
+      last, and that he stood like a man in the presence of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all up,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They have found the books; they have understood
+      them; and they are wrecking the place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are quite welcome to do that,&rdquo; said Cornish. Mr. Wade, who was
+      always business-like, had reopened his writing-case when he saw Roden, and
+      now came forward to hand him a written paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a copy,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of the telegram we have sent to Creil. He can
+      come here and select what men he wants&mdash;the steady ones and the
+      skilled workmen. With each man we will hand him a cheque in trust. The
+      others can take their money&mdash;and go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And drink themselves to death as expeditiously as they think fit,&rdquo; added
+      Cornish, the philanthropist&mdash;the fashionable drawing-room champion of
+      the masses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got back here through the Wood,&rdquo; said Percy Roden, who was still
+      breathless, as if he had been hurrying. &ldquo;One of them, a Swede, came to
+      warn me. They are looking for me in the town&mdash;a hundred and twenty of
+      them, and not one who cares that&rdquo;&mdash;he paused, and gave a snap of the
+      fingers&mdash;&ldquo;for his life or the law. Both railway stations are watched,
+      and all the steam-boat stations on the canals; they will kill me if they
+      catch me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyes wavered, for there is nothing more terrifying than the avowed
+      hostility of a mass of men, and no law grimmer than lynch-law. Yet he held
+      up his head with a sort of pride in his danger&mdash;some touch of that
+      subtle sense of personal distinction which seems to reach the heart of the
+      victim of an accident, or of a prisoner in the dock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had not met that Swede I should have gone on to the works, and they
+      would have pulled me to pieces there,&rdquo; continued Roden. &ldquo;I do not know how
+      I am to get away from The Hague, or where I shall be safe in the whole
+      world; but the money is at Hamburg and Antwerp. The money is safe enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He gave a laugh and threw back his head. His hearers looked at him, and
+      Mr. Wade alone understood his thoughts. For the banker had dealt with
+      money-makers all his life and knew that to many men, money is a god, and
+      the mere possession of it dearer to them than life itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you stay here, in my room upstairs,&rdquo; said Cornish, &ldquo;I will go down to
+      the works now. And this evening I will try and get you away from The Hague&mdash;and
+      from Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I will go to the Villa des Dunes again,&rdquo; added Dorothy, &ldquo;and pack
+      your things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite had risen also, and was moving towards the steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you going?&rdquo; asked her father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Villa des Dunes,&rdquo; she replied; and, turning to Dorothy, added, &ldquo;I
+      shall take some clothes and stay with you there until things straighten
+      themselves out a bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I cannot let you go there alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; asked Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because&mdash;I am not that sort,&rdquo; said Marguerite; and, turning, she
+      ascended the iron steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII. ROUND THE CORNER.
+    </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    &ldquo;Les heureux ne rient pas; ils sourient.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Soon after Mr. Wade and Cornish had quitted their carriage, on that which
+      is known as the New Scheveningen Road, and were walking across the dunes
+      to the malgamite works, they met a policeman running towards them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered breathlessly, to their inquiries&mdash;&ldquo;it is the
+      English Chemical Works on the dunes, which have caught fire. I am hurrying
+      to the Artillery Station to telegraph for the fire-engines; but it will be
+      useless. It will all be over in half an hour&mdash;by this wind and after
+      so much dry weather; see the black smoke, excellencies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And the man pointed towards a column of smoke, blown out over the
+      sand-hills by the strong wind, characteristic of these flat coasts. Then,
+      with a hurried salutation, he ran on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Cornish and Mr. Wade proceeded more leisurely on their way; for the banker
+      was not of a build to hurry even to a fire. Before they had gone far they
+      perceived another man coming across the Dunes towards The Hague. As he
+      approached, Cornish recognized the man known as Uncle Ben. He was
+      shambling along on unsteady legs, and carried his earthly belongings in a
+      canvas sack of doubtful cleanliness. The recognition was apparently
+      mutual; for Uncle Ben deviated from his path to come and speak to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's me, mister,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, not disrespectfully. &ldquo;And I don't
+      mind tellin' yer that I'm makin' myself scarce. That place is gettin' a
+      bit too hot for me. They're just pullin' it down and makin' a bonfire of
+      it. And if you or Mr. Roden goes there, they'll just take and chuck yer on
+      top of it&mdash;and that's God's truth. They're a rough lot some of them,
+      and they don't distinguish 'tween you and Mr. Roden like as I do. Soddim
+      and Gomorrer, I say. Soddim and Gomorrer! There won't be nothin' left of
+      yer in half an hour.&rdquo; And he turned and shook a dirty fist towards the
+      rising smoke, which was all that remained of the malgamite works. He
+      hurried on a few paces, then stopped and laid down his bag. He ran back,
+      calling out &ldquo;Mister!&rdquo; as he neared Cornish and Mr. Wade. &ldquo;I don't mind
+      tellin' yer,&rdquo; he said to Cornish, with a ludicrous precautionary look
+      round the deserted dunes to make sure that he would not be overheard; for
+      he was sober, and consequently stupid&mdash;&ldquo;I don't mind tellin' yer&mdash;seein'
+      as I'm makin' myself scarce, and for the sake o' Miss Roden, who has
+      always been a good friend to me&mdash;as there's a hundred and twenty of
+      'em looking for Mr. Roden at this minute, meanin' to twist his neck; and
+      what's worse, there's others&mdash;men of dedication like myself&mdash;who
+      has gone to the murder, or something. And they'll get it too, with the
+      story they've got to tell, and them poor devils planted thick as taters in
+      the cheap corner of the cemetery. I've warned yer, mister.&rdquo; Uncle Ben
+      expectorated with much emphasis, looked towards the malgamite works with a
+      dubious shake of the head, and went on his way, muttering, &ldquo;Soddim and
+      Gomorrer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His hearers walked on over the sand-hills towards the smoke, of which the
+      pungent odour, still faintly suggestive of sealing-wax, reached their
+      nostrils. At the top of a high dune, surmounted with considerable
+      difficulty, Mr. Wade stopped. Cornish stood beside him, and from that
+      point of vantage they saw the last of the malgamite works. Amid the flames
+      and smoke the forms of men flitted hither and thither, adding fuel to the
+      fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are, at all events, doing the business thoroughly,&rdquo; said the banker.
+      &ldquo;And there is nothing to be gained by our disturbing them at it&mdash;and
+      a good deal to be lost&mdash;namely, our lives. They are not burning the
+      cottages, I see; only the factory. There is nothing heroic about me, Tony.
+      Let us go back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Wade returned to The Hague alone; for Cornish had matters of
+      importance requiring his attention. It was now doubly necessary to get
+      Roden safely away from Holland, and with the necessity increased the
+      difficulty. For Holland is a small country, well watched, highly
+      civilized. Cornish knew that it would be next to impossible for Roden to
+      leave the country by rail or road. There remained, therefore, the sea.
+      Cornish had, during his sojourn at the humble Swan at Scheveningen, made
+      certain friends there. And it was to the old village under the dunes,
+      little known to visitors, and a place apart from the fashionable bathing
+      resort, that he went in his difficulty. He spent nearly the whole day in
+      these narrow streets; indeed, he lunched at the Swan in company of a
+      seafaring gentleman clad in soft blue flannel, and addicted to the
+      mediaeval coiffure still affected in certain parts of Zeeland.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From this quiet retreat Cornish also wrote a note to Dorothy at the Villa
+      des Dunes, informing her of Roden's new danger, and warning her not to
+      attempt to communicate with her brother, or even send him his baggage. In
+      the afternoon Cornish made a few purchases, which he duly packed in a
+      sailor's kit-bag, and at nightfall Roden arrived on foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The weather was squally, as it often is in August on these coasts; indeed,
+      the summer seemed to have come to an end before its time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is raining like the deuce,&rdquo; said Roden, &ldquo;and I am wet through, though
+      I came under the trees of the Oude Weg.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He spoke with his usual suggestion of a grievance, which made Cornish
+      answer him rather curtly&mdash;&ldquo;We shall be wetter before we get on
+      board.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was raining when they quitted the modest Swan, and hurried through the
+      sparsely lighted, winding streets. Cornish had borrowed two oil-skin coats
+      and caps, which at once disguised them and protected them from the rain.
+      Any passer-by would have taken them for a couple of fishermen going about
+      their business. But there were few in the streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you doing all this for me?&rdquo; asked Roden, suddenly. &ldquo;To avoid a
+      scandal,&rdquo; replied Cornish, truthfully enough; for he had been brought up
+      in a world where the longevity of scandal is fully understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wide stretch of sand was entirely deserted when they emerged from the
+      narrow streets and gained the summit of the sea-wall. A thunderstorm was
+      growling in the distance, and every moment a flash of thin summer
+      lightning shimmered on the horizon. The wind was strong, as it nearly
+      always is here, and shallow white surf stretched seaward across the flats.
+      The sea roared continuously without that rise and fall of the breakers
+      which marks a deeper coast, and from the face of the water there arose a
+      filmy mist&mdash;part foam, part phosphorescence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Roden and Cornish passed the little lighthouse, two policemen emerged
+      from the shadow of the wall, and watched them, half suspiciously. &ldquo;Good
+      evening,&rdquo; said one of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; answered Cornish, mimicking the sing-song accent of the
+      Scheveningen streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on in silence. &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; ejaculated Roden, when the danger
+      seemed to be past, and they could breathe again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They went down a flight of steps to the beach, and stumbled across the
+      soft sand towards the sea. One or two boats were lying out in the surf&mdash;heavy
+      Dutch fishing-boats, known technically as &ldquo;pinks,&rdquo; flat-bottomed,
+      round-prowed, keel less, heavy and ungainly vessels, but strong as wood
+      and iron and workmanship could make them. Some seemed to be afloat, others
+      bumped heavily and continuously; while a few lay stolidly on the ground
+      with the waves breaking right over them as over rocks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The noise of the sea was so great that Cornish touched his companion's
+      arm, and pointed, without speaking, to one of the vessels where a light
+      twinkled feebly through the spray breaking over her. It seemed to be the
+      only vessel preparing to go to sea on the high tide, and, in truth, the
+      weather looked anything but encouraging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are we going to get on board?&rdquo; shouted Roden, amid the roar of the
+      waves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Walk,&rdquo; answered Cornish, and he led the way into the sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hampered as they were by their heavy oil skins, their progress was slow,
+      although the water barely reached their knees. The <i>Three Brothers</i>
+      was bumping when they reached her and clambered on board over the bluff
+      sides, sticky with salt water and tar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She'll be afloat in ten minutes,&rdquo; said a man in oil-skins, who helped
+      them over the low bulwarks. He spoke good English, and seemed to have
+      learned some of the taciturnity of the seafaring portion of that nation
+      with their language; for he went aft to the tiller without more words and
+      took his station there.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Roden seated himself on the rail and looked back towards Scheveningen.
+      Cornish stood beside him in silence. The spray broke over them
+      continuously, and the boat rolled and bumped in such a manner that it was
+      impossible to stand or even sit without holding on to the clumsy rigging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The lights of Scheveningen were stretched out in a line before them; the
+      lighthouse winked a glaring eye that seemed to stare over their heads far
+      out to sea. The summer lightning showed the sands to be bare and deserted.
+      There were no unusual lights on the sea wall. The Kurhaus and the hotels
+      were illuminated and gay. The shore took no heed of the sea tonight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've succeeded,&rdquo; said Roden, curtly, and quite suddenly he rolled over
+      in a faint at Cornish's feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning, Dorothy received a letter at the Villa des Dunes, posted
+      the evening before by Cornish at Scheveningen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We hope to get away tonight,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;in the 'pink,' the <i>Three
+      Brothers</i>. Our intention is to knock about the North Sea until we find
+      a suitable vessel&mdash;either a sailing ship trading between Norway and
+      Spain on its way south, or a steamer going direct from Hamburg to South
+      America. When I have seen your brother safely on board one of these
+      vessels, I shall return in the <i>Three Brothers</i> to Scheveningen. She
+      is a small boat, and has a large white patch of new canvas at the top of
+      her mainsail. So if you see her coming in, or waiting for the tide, you
+      may conclude that your brother is in safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Later in the day, Mr. Wade called, having driven from The Hague very
+      comfortably in an open carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The house,&rdquo; he said placidly, &ldquo;is still watched, but I have no doubt that
+      Tony has outwitted them all. Creil arrived last night, and seems a capable
+      man. He tells me that half of the malgamiters are in jail at The Hague for
+      intoxication and uproariousness last night. He is selecting those he
+      wants, and the rest he will send to their homes. So we are balancing our
+      affairs very comfortably; and if there is anything I can do for you, Miss
+      Roden, I am at your command.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Dorothy is all right,&rdquo; said Marguerite, rather hurriedly; and when
+      her father took his leave, she slipped her hand within his solid arm, and
+      walked with him across the sand towards the carriage. &ldquo;Haven't you seen,&rdquo;
+       she asked&mdash;&ldquo;you old stupid!&mdash;that Dorothy is all right? Tony is
+      in love with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the banker, rather humbly&mdash;&ldquo;no, my dear. I am afraid I
+      had not noticed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite pressed his arm, not unkindly. &ldquo;You can't help it,&rdquo; she
+      explained. &ldquo;You are only a man, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The following days were quiet enough at the Villa des Dunes, and it is in
+      quiet days that a friendship ripens best. The two girls left there
+      scarcely expected to hear of Cornish's return for some days; but they fell
+      into the habit of walking towards the sea whenever they went out-of-doors,
+      and spent many afternoon hours on the dunes. During these hours Dorothy
+      had many confidential and lively conversations with her new-found friend.
+      Indeed, confidence and gaiety were so bewilderingly mingled that Dorothy
+      did not always understand her companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One afternoon, three days after the departure of Percy Roden, when Von
+      Holzen was buried, and the authorities had expressed themselves content
+      with the verdict that he had come accidentally by his death, Marguerite
+      took occasion to congratulate herself, and all concerned, in the fact that
+      what she vaguely called &ldquo;things&rdquo; were beginning to straighten themselves
+      out.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+&ldquo;We are round the corner,&rdquo; she said decisively. &ldquo;And now papa and I
+shall go home again, and Miss Williams will come back. Miss
+Williams&mdash;oh, lord! She is one of those women who have a stick inside
+them instead of a heart. And papa will trot out his young men&mdash;likely
+young men from the city. Papa married the bank, you know. And he wants
+ me to marry another bank and live gorgeously ever afterwards. Poor old
+dear!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think he would rather you were happy than gorgeous,&rdquo; said Dorothy, with
+      a laugh, who had seen some of the honest banker's perplexity with regard
+      to this most delicate financial affair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he would. At all events, he does his best&mdash;his very best. He
+      has tried at least fifty of these gentle swains since I came back from
+      Dresden&mdash;red hair and a temper, black hair and an excellent opinion
+      of one's self, fair hair and stupidity. But they wouldn't do&mdash;they
+      wouldn't do, Dorothy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite paused, and made a series of holes in the sand with her
+      walking-stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was only one,&rdquo; she said quietly, at length. &ldquo;I suppose there is
+      always&mdash;only one&mdash;eh, Dorothy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, looking straight in front of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Marguerite was silent for a while, looking out to sea with a queer little
+      twist of the lips that made her look older&mdash;almost a woman. One could
+      imagine what she would be like when she was middle-aged, or quite old,
+      perhaps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would have done,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Quite easily. He was a million times
+      cleverer than the rest&mdash;a million times&mdash;well, he was quite
+      different, I don't know how. But he was paternal. He thought he was much
+      too old, so he didn't try&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a light laugh, and her confidential manner was gone in
+      a flash. She stuck her stick firmly into the ground, and threw herself
+      back on the soft sand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So,&rdquo; she cried gaily. <i>&ldquo;Vogue la galère</i>. It's all for the best.
+      That is the right thing to say when it cannot be helped, and it obviously
+      isn't for the best. But everybody says it, and it is always wise to pass
+      in with the crowd, and be conventional&mdash;if you swing for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off suddenly, looking at her companion's face. A few boats had
+      been leisurely making for the shore all the afternoon before a light wind,
+      and Dorothy had been watching them. They were coming closer now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorothy, do you see the <i>Three Brothers</i>?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is the <i>Three Brothers</i>,&rdquo; answered Dorothy, pointing with her
+      walking-stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a time they were silent, until, indeed, the boat with the patched sail
+      had taken the ground gently, a few yards from the shore. A number of men
+      landed from her, some of them carrying baskets of fish. One, walking
+      apart, made for the dunes, in the direction of the New Scheveningen Road.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is Tony,&rdquo; said Marguerite. &ldquo;I should know his walk&mdash;if I
+      saw him coming out of the Ark, which, by the way, must have been rather
+      like the <i>Three Brothers</i> to look at. He has taken your brother
+      safely away, and now he is coming&mdash;to take you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may remember that I am Percy's sister,&rdquo; suggested Dorothy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn't matter whose sister you are,&rdquo; was the decisive reply. &ldquo;Nothing
+      matters&rdquo;&mdash;Marguerite rose slowly, and shook the sand from her dress&mdash;&ldquo;nothing
+      matters, except one thing, and that appears to be a matter of absolute
+      chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She climbed slowly to the summit of the dune under which they had been
+      sitting, and there, pausing, she looked back. She nodded gaily down at
+      Dorothy. Then suddenly, she held out her hands before her, and Cornish,
+      looking up, saw her slim young form poised against the sky in a mock
+      attitude of benediction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bless you, my dears,&rdquo; she cried, and with a short laugh turned and walked
+      towards the Villa des Dunes.
+    </p>
+    <h3>
+      THE END
+    </h3>
+    <div style="height: 6em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Roden's Corner, by Henry Seton Merriman
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RODEN'S CORNER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 9324-h.htm or 9324-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/9/3/2/9324/
+
+
+Text file produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian, and PG
+Distributed Proofreaders
+
+HTML file produced by David Widger
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+  www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&ldquo;the Foundation&rdquo;
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; appears, or with which the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo; is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+&ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original &ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, &ldquo;Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.&rdquo;
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+&ldquo;Defects,&rdquo; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &ldquo;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&rdquo; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887.  Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:  www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+  </body>
+</html>