首页 >出版文学> The Man Who Knew Too Much>第7章
  Withtheelectrictorchinhishandhestrucktheforemostofthemsofuriouslyinthefacethatthemanstumbledandrolledoverontheslimygrass;butthetorchwasbrokenandextinguished,leavingeverythinginadenserobscurity。Heflunganothermanflatagainstthetemplewall,sothatheslidtotheground;butathirdandfourthcarriedFisheroffhisfeetandbegantobearhim,struggling,towardthedoorway。Eveninthebewildermentofthebattlehewasconsciousthatthedoorwasstandingopen。Somebodywassummoningtheroughsfrominside。
  Themomenttheywerewithintheyhurledhimuponasortofbenchorbedwithviolence,butnodamage;forthesettee,orwhateveritwas,seemedtobecomfortablycushionedforhisreception。Theirviolencehadinitagreatelementofhaste,andbeforehecouldrisetheyhadallrushedforthedoortoescape。Whateverbanditstheywerethatinfestedthisdesertisland,theywereobviouslyuneasyabouttheirjobandveryanxioustobequitofit。Hehadtheflyingfancythatregularcriminalswouldhardlybeinsuchapanic。Thenextmomentthegreatdoorcrashedtoandhecouldheartheboltsshriekastheyshotintotheirplace,andthefeetoftheretreatingmenscamperingandstumblingalongthecauseway。Butrapidlyasithappened,itdidnothappenbeforeFisherhaddonesomethingthathewantedtoto。Unabletorisefromhissprawlingattitudeinthatflashoftime,hehadshotoutoneofhislonglegsandhookeditroundtheankleofthelastmandisappearingthroughthedoor。Themanswayedandtoppledoverinsidetheprisonchamber,andthedoorclosedbetweenhimandhisfleeingcompanions。Clearlytheywereintoomuchhastetorealizethattheyhadleftoneoftheircompanybehind。
  Themansprangtohisfeetagainandhammeredandkickedfuriouslyatthedoor。Fisher’ssenseofhumorbegantorecoverfromthestruggleandhesatuponhissofawithsomethingofhisnativenonchalance。Butashelistenedtothecaptivecaptorbeatingonthedooroftheprison,anewandcuriousreflectioncametohim。
  Thenaturalcourseforamanthuswishingtoattracthisfriends’attentionwouldbetocallout,toshoutaswellaskick。Thismanwasmakingasmuchnoiseashecouldwithhisfeetandhands,butnotasoundcamefromhisthroat。Whycouldn’thespeak?
  Atfirsthethoughtthemanmightbegagged,whichwasmanifestlyabsurd。Thenhisfancyfellbackontheuglyideathatthemanwasdumb。Hehardlyknewwhyitwassouglyanidea,butitaffectedhisimaginationinadarkanddisproportionatefashion。
  Thereseemedtobesomethingcreepyabouttheideaofbeingleftinadarkroomwithadeafmute。Itwasalmostasifsuchadefectwereadeformity。Itwasalmostasifitwentwithotherandworsedeformities。
  Itwasasiftheshapehecouldnottraceinthedarknessweresomeshapethatshouldnotseethesun。
  Thenhehadaflashofsanityandalsoofinsight。
  Theexplanationwasverysimple,butratherinteresting。Obviouslythemandidnotusehisvoicebecausehedidnotwishhisvoicetoberecognized。
  HehopedtoescapefromthatdarkplacebeforeFisherfoundoutwhohewas。Andwhowashe?Onethingatleastwasclear。HewasoneorotherofthefourorfivemenwithwhomFisherhadalreadytalkedintheseparts,andinthedevelopmentofthatstrangestory。
  "NowIwonderwhoyouare,"hesaid,aloud,withallhisoldlazyurbanity。"Isupposeit’snousetryingtothrottleyouinordertofindout;
  itwouldbedispleasingtopassthenightwithacorpse。BesidesImightbethecorpse。I’vegotnomatchesandI’vesmashedmytorch,soIcanonlyspeculate。Whocouldyoube,now?
  Letusthink。"
  ThemanthusgeniallyaddressedhaddesistedfromdrummingonthedoorandretreatedsullenlyintoacornerasFishercontinuedtoaddresshiminaflowingmonologue。
  "Probablyyouarethepoacherwhosaysheisn’tapoacher。Hesayshe’salandedproprietor;buthewillpermitmetoinformhimthat,whateverheis,he’safool。WhathopecanthereeverbeofafreepeasantryinEnglandifthepeasantsthemselvesaresuchsnobsastowanttobegentlemen?Howcanwemakeademocracywithnodemocrats?Asitis,youwanttobealandlordandsoyouconsenttobeacriminal。Andinthat,youknow,youareratherlikesomebodyelse。And,nowIthinkofit,perhapsyouaresomebodyelse。"
  Therewasasilencebrokenbybreathingfromthecornerandthemurmuroftherisingstorm,thatcameinthroughthesmallgratingabovetheman’shead。HorneFishercontinued:
  "Areyouonlyaservant,perhaps,thatrathersinisteroldservantwhowasbutlertoHawkerandVerner?Ifso,youarecertainlytheonlylinkbetweenthetwoperiods。Butifso,whydoyoudegradeyourselftoservethisdirtyforeigner,whenyouatleastsawthelastofagenuinenationalgentry?
  Peoplelikeyouaregenerallyatleastpatriotic。
  Doesn’tEnglandmeananythingtoyou,Mr。Usher?
  Allofwhicheloquenceispossiblywasted,asperhapsyouarenotMr。Usher。
  "MorelikelyyouareVernerhimself;andit’snogoodwastingeloquencetomakeyouashamedofyourself。NorisitanygoodtocurseyouforcorruptingEngland;norareyoutherightpersontocurse。ItistheEnglishwhodeservetobecursed,andarecursed,becausetheyallowedsuchvermintocrawlintothehighplacesoftheirheroesandtheirkings。Iwon’tdwellontheideathatyou’reVerner,orthethrottlingmightbegin,afterall。Isthereanyoneelseyoucouldbe?Surelyyou’renotsomeservantoftheotherrivalorganization。Ican’tbelieveyou’reGryce,theagent;andyetGrycehadasparkofthefanaticinhiseye,too;andmenwilldoextraordinarythingsinthesepaltryfeudsofpolitics。Orifnottheservant,isitthe……No,Ican’tbelieveit……nottheredbloodofmanhoodandliberty……notthedemocraticideal……"
  Hesprangupinexcitement,andatthesamemomentagrowlofthundercamethroughthegratingbeyond。Thestormhadbroken,andwithitanewlightbrokeonhismind。Therewassomethingelsethatmighthappeninamoment。
  "Doyouknowwhatthatmeans?"hecried。"ItmeansthatGodhimselfmayholdacandletoshowmeyourinfernalface。"
  Thennextmomentcameacrashofthunder;butbeforethethunderawhitelighthadfilledthewholeroomforasinglesplitsecond。
  Fisherhadseentwothingsinfrontofhim。Onewastheblack—and—whitepatternoftheirongratingagainstthesky;theotherwasthefaceinthecorner。
  Itwasthefaceofhisbrother。
  NothingcamefromHorneFisher’slipsexceptaChristianname,whichwasfollowedbyasilencemoredreadfulthanthedark。Atlasttheotherfigurestirredandsprangup,andthevoiceofHarryFisherwasheardforthefirsttimeinthathorribleroom。
  "You’veseenme,Isuppose,"hesaid,"andwemayaswellhavealightnow。Youcouldhaveturneditonatanytime,ifyou’dfoundtheswitch。"
  Hepressedabuttoninthewallandallthedetailsofthatroomsprangintosomethingstrongerthandaylight。Indeed,thedetailsweresounexpectedthatforamomenttheyturnedthecaptive’srockingmindfromthelastpersonalrevelation。Theroom,sofarfrombeingadungeoncell,wasmorelikeadrawing—room,evenalady’sdrawing—room,exceptforsomeboxesofcigarsandbottlesofwinethatwerestackedwithbooksandmagazinesonasidetable。Asecondglanceshowedhimthatthemoremasculinefittingswerequiterecent,andthatthemorefemininebackgroundwasquiteold。Hiseyecaughtastripoffadedtapestry,whichstartledhimintospeech,tothemomentaryoblivionofbiggermatters。
  "Thisplacewasfurnishedfromthegreathouse,"
  hesaid。
  "Yes,"repliedtheother,"andIthinkyouknowwhy。"
  "IthinkIdo,"saidHorneFisher,"andbeforeIgoontomoreextraordinarythingsIwill,saywhatI
  think。SquireHawkerplayedboththebigamistandthebandit。HisfirstwifewasnotdeadwhenhemarriedtheJewess;shewasimprisonedonthisisland。Sheborehimachildhere,whonowhauntshisbirthplaceunderthenameofLongAdam。AbankruptcycompanypromoternamedWernerdiscoveredthesecretandblackmailedthesquireintosurrenderingtheestate。
  That’sallquiteclearandveryeasy。
  Andnowletmegoontosomethingmoredifficult。
  Andthatisforyoutoexplainwhatthedevilyouaredoingkidnapingyourbornbrother。
  AfterapauseHenryFisheranswered:
  "Isupposeyoudidn’texpecttoseeme,"hesaid。
  "But,afterall,whatcouldyouexpect?"’
  "I’mafraidIdon’tfollow,"saidHorneFisher。
  "Imeanwhatelsecouldyouexpect,aftermakingsuchamuckofit?"saidhisbrother,sulkily。"Weallthoughtyouweresoclever。Howcouldweknowyouweregoingtobe——well,really,sucharottenfailure?"
  "Thisisrathercurious,"saidthecandidate,frowning。"Withoutvanity,Iwasnotundertheimpressionthatmycandidaturewasafailure。Allthebigmeetingsweresuccessfulandcrowdsofpeoplehavepromisedmevotes。"
  "Ishouldjollywellthinktheyhad,"said’Henry,grimly。"You’vemadealandslidewithyourconfoundedacresandacow,andVernercanhardlygetavoteanywhere。Oh,it’stoorottenforanything!"
  "Whatonearthdoyoumean?"
  "Why,youlunatic,"criedHenry,intonesofringingsincerity,"youdon’tsupposeyouweremeanttoWIN
  theseat,didyou?Oh,it’stoochildish!ItellyouVerner’sgottogetin。Ofcoursehe’sgottogetin。
  He’stohavetheExchequernextsession,andthere’stheEgyptianloanandLordknowswhatelse。WeonlywantedyoutosplittheReformvotebecauseaccidentsmighthappenafterHugheshadmadeascoreatBarkington。"
  "Isee,"saidFisher,"andyou,Ithink,areapillarandornamentoftheReformparty。Asyousay,Iamnotclever。"
  Theappealtopartyloyaltyfellondeafears;forthepillarofReformwasbroodingonotherthings。Atlasthesaid,inamoretroubledvoice:
  "Ididn’twantyoutocatchme;Iknewitwouldbeashock。ButItellyouwhat,youneverwouldhavecaughtmeifIhadn’tcomeheremyself,toseetheydidn’tilltreatyouandtomakesureeverythingwasascomfortableasitcouldbe。"Therewasevenasortofbreakinhisvoiceasheadded,"IgotthosecigarsbecauseIknewyoulikedthem。"
  Emotionsarequeerthings,andtheidiocyofthisconcessionsuddenlysoftenedHorneFisherlikeanunfathomablepathos。
  "Nevermind,oldchap,"hesaid;"we’llsaynomoreaboutit。I’lladmitthatyou’rereallyaskind—heartedandaffectionateascoundrelandhypocriteaseversoldhimselftoruinhiscountry。There,Ican’tsayhandsomerthanthat。Thankyouforthecigars,oldman。I’llhaveoneifyoudon’tmind。"
  BythetimethatHorneFisherhadendedhistellingofthisstorytoHaroldMarchtheyhadcomeoutintooneofthepublicparksandtakenaseatonariseofgroundoverlookingwidegreenspacesunderablueandemptysky;andtherewassomethingincongruousinthewordswithwhichthenarrationended。
  "Ihavebeeninthatroomeversince,"saidHorneFisher。"Iaminitnow。Iwontheelection,butI
  neverwenttotheHouse。Mylifehasbeenalifeinthatlittleroomonthatlonelyisland。Plentyofbooksandcigarsandluxuries,plentyofknowledgeandinterestandinformation,butneveravoiceoutofthattombtoreachtheworldoutside。Ishallprobablydiethere。"Andhesmiledashelookedacrossthevastgreenparktothegrayhorizon。
  VIII。THEVENGEANCEOFTHESTATUE
  Itwasonthesunnyverandaofaseasidehotel,overlookingapatternofflowerbedsandastripofbluesea,thatHorneFisherandHaroldMarchhadtheirfinalexplanation,whichmightbecalledanexplosion。
  HaroldMarchhadcometothelittletableandsatdownatitwithasubduedexcitementsmolderinginhissomewhatcloudyanddreamyblueeyes。Inthenewspaperswhichhetossedfromhimontothetabletherewasenoughtoexplainsomeifnotallofhisemotion。Publicaffairsineverydepartmenthadreachedacrisis。Thegovernmentwhichhadstoodsolongthatmenwereusedtoit,astheyareusedtoahereditarydespotism,hadbeguntobeaccusedOfblundersandevenoffinancialabuses。SomesaidthattheexperimentofattemptingtoestablishapeasantryinthewestofEngland,onthelinesofanearlyfancyofHorneFisher’s,hadresultedinnothingbutdangerousquarrelswithmoreindustrialneighbors。
  Therehadbeenparticularcomplaintsoftheilltreatmentofharmlessforeigners,chieflyAsiatics,whohappenedtobeemployedinthenewscientificworksconstructedonthecoast。Indeed,thenewPowerwhichhadariseninSiberia,backedbyJapanandotherpowerfulallies,wasinclinedtotakethematterupintheinterestsofitsexiledsubjects;andtherehadbeenwildtalkaboutambassadorsandultimatums。
  Butsomethingmuchmoreserious,initspersonalinterestforMarchhimself,seemedtofillhismeetingwithhisfriendwithamixtureofembarrassmentandindignation。
  PerhapsitincreasedhisannoyancethattherewasacertainunusuallivelinessabouttheusuallylanguidfigureofFisher。TheordinaryimageofhiminMarch’smindwasthatofapallidandbald—browedgentleman,whoseemedtobeprematurelyoldaswellasprematurelybald。Hewasrememberedasamanwhoexpressedtheopinionsofapessimistinthelanguageofalounger。EvennowMarchcouldnotbecertainwhetherthechangewasmerelyasortofmasqueradeofsunshine,orthateffectofclearcolorsandclean—cutoutlinesthatisalwaysvisibleontheparadeofamarineresort,relievedagainstthebluedadoofthesea。ButFisherhadaflowerinhisbuttonhole,andhisfriendcouldhaveswornhecarriedhiscanewithsomethingalmostliketheswaggerofafighter。WithsuchcloudsgatheringoverEngland,thepessimistseemedtobetheonlymanwhocarriedhisownsunshine。
  "Lookhere,"saidHaroldMarch,abruptly,"you’vebeennoendofafriendtome,andIneverwassoproudofafriendshipbefore;butthere’ssomethingI
  mustgetoffmychest。ThemoreIfoundout,thelessIunderstoodhowyoucouldstandit。AndItellyouI’mgoingtostanditnolonger。"
  HorneFishergazedacrossathimgravelyandattentively,butratherasifhewerealongwayoff。
  "YouknowIalwayslikedyou,"saidFisher,quietly,"butIalsorespectyou,whichisnotalwaysthesamething。YoumaypossiblyguessthatIlikeagoodmanypeopleIdon’trespect。Perhapsitismytragedy,perhapsitismyfault。Butyouareverydifferent,andIpromiseyouthis:thatIwillnevertrytokeepyouassomebodytobeliked,atthepriceofyournotbeingrespected。"
  "Iknowyouaremagnanimous,"saidMarchafterasilence,"andyetyoutolerateandperpetuateeverythingthatismean。"Thenafteranothersilenceheadded:"Doyourememberwhenwefirstmet,whenyouwerefishinginthatbrookintheaffairofthetarget?Anddoyourememberyousaidthat,afterall,itmightdonoharmifIcouldblowthewholetangleofthissocietytohellwithdynamite。"
  "Yes,andwhatofthat?"askedFisher。
  "OnlythatI’mgoingtoblowittohellwithdynamite,"saidHaroldMarch,"andIthinkitrighttogiveyoufairwarning。ForalongtimeIdidn’tbelievethingswereasbadasyousaidtheywere。ButI
  neverfeltasifIcouldhavebottledupwhatyouknew,supposingyoureallyknewit。Well,thelongandtheshortofitisthatI’vegotaconscience;andnow,atlast,I’vealsogotachance。I’vebeenputinchargeofabigindependentpaper,withafreehand,andwe’regoingtoopenacannonadeoncorruption。"
  "Thatwillbe——Attwood,Isuppose,"saidFisher,reflectively。"Timbermerchant。KnowsalotaboutChina。"
  "HeknowsalotaboutEngland,"saidMarch,doggedly,"andnowIknowit,too,we’renotgoingtohushitupanylonger。Thepeopleofthiscountryhavearighttoknowhowthey’reruled——or,rather,ruined。
  TheChancellorisinthepocketofthemoneylendersandhastodoasheistold;otherwisehe’sbankrupt,andabadsortofbankruptcy,too,withnothingbutcardsandactressesbehindit。ThePrimeMinisterwasinthepetrol—contractbusiness;anddeepinit,too。TheForeignMinisterisawreckofdrinkanddrugs。WhenyousaythatplainlyaboutamanwhomaysendthousandsofEnglishmentodiefornothing,you’recalledpersonal。Ifapoorenginedrivergetsdrunkandsendsthirtyorfortypeopletodeath,nobodycomplainsoftheexposurebeingpersonal。
  Theenginedriverisnotaperson。"
  "Iquiteagreewithyou,"saidFisher,calmly。"Youareperfectlyright。"
  "Ifyouagreewithus,,whythedevildon’tyouactwithus?"demandedhisfriend。"Ifyouthinkit’sright,whydon’tyoudowhat’sright?It’sawfultothinkofamanofyourabilitiessimplyblockingtheroadtoreform。"
  "Wehaveoftentalkedaboutthat,"repliedFisher,withthesamecomposure。"ThePrimeMinisterismyfather’sfriend。TheForeignMinistermarriedmysister。TheChancelloroftheExchequerismyfirstcousin。Imentionthegenealogyinsomedetailjustnowforaparticularreason。ThetruthisIhaveacuriouskindofcheerfulnessatthemoment。Itisn’taltogetherthesunandthesea,sir。Iamenjoyinganemotionthatisentirelynewtome;ahappysensationIneverrememberhavinghadbefore。"
  "Whatthedevildoyoumean?"
  "Iamfeelingproudofmyfamily,"saidHorneFisher。
  HaroldMarchstaredathimwithroundblueeyes,andseemedtoomuchmystifiedeventoaskaquestion。Fisherleanedbackinhischairinhislazyfashion,andsmiledashecontinued。
  "Lookhere,mydearfellow。Letmeaskaquestioninturn。YouimplythatIhavealwaysknownthesethingsaboutmyunfortunatekinsmen。
  SoIhave。DoyousupposethatAttwoodhasn’talwaysknownthem?Doyousupposehehasn’talwaysknownyouasanhonestmanwhowouldsaythesethingswhenhegotachance?WhydoesAttwoodunmuzzleyoulikeadogatthismoment,afteralltheseyears?Iknowwhyhedoes;Iknowagoodmanythings,fartoomanythings。Andtherefore,asIhavethehonortoremark,Iamproudofmyfamilyatlast。"
  "Butwhy?"repeatedMarch,ratherfeebly。
  "IamproudoftheChancellorbecausehegambledandtheForeignMinisterbecausehedrankandthePrimeMinisterbecausehetookacommissiononacontract,"saidFisher,firmly。"Iamproudofthembecausetheydidthesethings,andcanbedenouncedforthem,andknowtheycanbedenouncedforthem,andareSTANDINGFIRMFORALLTHAT。Itakeoffmyhattothembecausetheyaredefyingblackmail,andrefusingtosmashtheircountrytosavethemselves。I
  salutethemasiftheyweregoingtodieonthebattlefield。"
  Afterapausehecontinued:"Anditwillbeabattlefield,too,andnotametaphoricalone。Wehaveyieldedtoforeignfinancierssolongthatnowitiswarorruin,Eventhepeople,eventhecountrypeople,arebeginningtosuspectthattheyarebeingruined。Thatisthemeaningoftheregrettable,incidentsinthenewspapers。"
  "ThemeaningoftheoutragesonOrientals?"askedMarch。
  "ThemeaningoftheoutragesonOrientals,"
  repliedFisher,"isthatthefinanciershaveintroducedChineselaborintothiscountrywiththedeliberateintentionofreducingworkmenandpeasantstostarvation。Ourunhappypoliticianshavemadeconcessionafterconcession;andnowtheyareaskingconcessionswhichamounttoourorderingamassacreofourownpoor。Ifwedonotfightnowweshallneverfightagain。TheywillhaveputEnglandinaneconomicpositionofstarvinginaweek。Butwearegoingtofightnow;Ishouldn’twonderiftherewereanultimatuminaweekandan。invasioninafortnight。Allthepastcorruptionandcowardiceishamperingus,ofcourse;theWestcountryisprettystormyanddoubtfuleveninamilitarysense;andtheIrishregimentsthere,thataresupposedtosupportusbythenewtreaty,areprettywellinmutiny;for,ofcourse,thisinfernalcooliecapitalismisbeingpushedinIreland,too。Butit’stostopnow;andifthegovernmentmessageofreassurancegetsthroughtothemintime,theymayturnupafterallbythetimetheenemylands。Formypooroldgangisgoingtostandtoitsgunsatlast。Ofcourseit’sonlynaturalthatwhentheyhavebeenwhitewashedforhalfacenturyasparagons,theirsinsshouldcomebackonthemattheverymomentwhentheyarebehavinglikemenforthefirsttimeintheirlives。Well,Itellyou,March,Iknowtheminsideout;andIknowtheyarebehavinglikeheroes。Everymanofthemoughttohaveastatue,andonthepedestalwordslikethoseofthenoblestruffianoftheRevolution:’Quemonnomsoitfletri;quelaFrancesoitlibre。’"
  "GoodGod!"criedMarch,"shallwenevergettothebottomofyourminesandcountermines?"
  AfterasilenceFisheransweredinalowervoice,lookinghisfriendintheeyes。
  "Didyouthinktherewasnothingbutevilatthebottomofthem?"heasked,gently。"DidyouthinkI
  hadfoundnothingbutfilthinthedeepseasintowhichfatehasthrownme?Believeme,youneverknowthebestaboutmentillyouknowtheworstaboutthem。Itdoesnotdisposeoftheirstrangehumansoulstoknowthattheywereexhibitedtotheworldasimpossiblyimpeccablewaxworks,whoneverlookedafterawomanorknewthemeaningofabribe。Eveninapalace,lifecanbelivedwell;andeveninaParliament,lifecanbelivedwithoccasionaleffortstoliveitwell。Itellyouitisastrueoftheserichfoolsandrascalsasitistrueofeverypoorfootpadandpickpocket;thatonlyGodknowshowgoodtheyhavetriedtobe。Godaloneknowswhattheconsciencecansurvive,orhowamanwhohaslosthishonorwillstilltrytosavehissoul。"
  Therewasanothersilence,andMarchsatstaringatthetableandFisheratthesea。ThenFishersuddenlysprangtohisfeetandcaughtuphishatandstickwithallhisnewalertnessandevenpugnacity。
  "Lookhere,oldfellow,"hecried,"letusmakeabargain。BeforeyouopenyourcampaignforAttwoodcomedownandstaywithusforoneweek,tohearwhatwe’rereallydoing。
  ImeanwiththeFaithfulFew,formerlyknownastheOldGang,occasionallytobedescribedastheLowLot。Therearereallyonlyfiveofusthatarequitefixed,andorganizingthenationaldefense;andwe’relivinglikeagarrisoninasortofbroken—downhotelinKent。Comeandseewhatwe’rereallydoingandwhatthereistobedone,anddousjustice。Andafterthat,withunalterableloveandaffectionforyou,publishandbedamned。"
  Thusitcameaboutthatinthelastweekbeforewar,wheneventsmovedmostrapidly,HaroldMarchfoundhimselfoneofasortofsmallhousepartyofthepeoplehewasproposingtodenounce。Theywerelivingsimplyenough,forpeoplewiththeirtastes,inanoldbrown—brickinnfacedwithivyandsurroundedbyratherdismalgardens。Atthebackofthebuildingthegardenranupverysteeplytoaroadalongtheridgeabove;andazigzagpathscaledtheslopeinsharpangles,turningtoandfroamidevergreenssosomberthattheymightratherbecalledeverblack。
  Hereandthereuptheslopewerestatueshavingallthecoldmonstrosityofsuchminorornamentsoftheeighteenthcentury;andawholerowofthemranasonaterracealongthelastbankatthebottom,oppositethebackdoor。ThisdetailfixeditselffirstinMarch’smindmerelybecauseitfiguredinthefirstconversationhehadwithoneofthecabinetministers。
  Thecabinetministerswereratherolderthanhehadexpectedtofindthem。ThePrimeMinisternolongerlookedlikeaboy,thoughhestilllookedalittlelikeababy。Butitwasoneofthoseoldandvenerablebabies,andthebabyhadsoftgrayhair。
  Everythingabouthimwassoft,tohisspeechandhiswayofwalking;butoverandabovethathischieffunctionseemedtobesleep。Peopleleftalonewithhimgotsousedtohiseyesbeingclosedthattheywerealmoststartledwhentheyrealizedinthestillnessthattheeyeswerewideopen,andevenwatching。Onethingatleastwouldalwaysmaketheoldgentlemanopenhiseyes。Theonethinghereallycaredforinthisworldwashishobbyofarmoredweapons,especiallyEasternweapons,andhewouldtalkforhoursaboutDamascusbladesandArabswordmanship。LordJamesHerries,theChancelloroftheExchequer,wasashort,dark,sturdymanwithaverysallowfaceandaverysullenmanner,whichcontrastedwiththegorgeousflowerinhisbuttonholeandhisfestivetrickofbeingalwaysslightlyoverdressed。Itwassomethingofaeuphemismtocallhimawell—knownmanabouttown。Therewasperhapsmoremysteryinthequestionofhowamanwholivedforpleasureseemedtogetsolittlepleasureoutofit。SirDavidArcher,theForeignSecretary,wastheonlyoneofthemwhowasaself—mademan,andtheonlyoneofthemwholookedlikeanaristocrat。Hewastallandthinandveryhandsome,withagrizzledbeard;hisgrayhairwasverycurly,andevenroseinfrontintworebelliousringletsthatseemedtothefancifultotrembleliketheantennaeofsomegiantinsect,ortostirsympatheticallywiththerestlesstuftedeyebrowsoverhisratherhaggardeyes。FortheForeignSecretarymadenosecretofhissomewhatnervouscondition,whatevermightbethecauseofit。
  "Doyouknowthatmoodwhenonecouldscreambecauseamatiscrooked?"hesaidtoMarch,astheywalkedupanddowninthebackgardenbelowthelineofdingystatues。"Womengetintoitwhenthey’veworkedtoohard;andI’vebeenworkingprettyhardlately,ofcourse。ItdrivesmemadwhenHerrieswillwearhishatalittlecrooked——habitoflookinglikeagaydog。
  SometimeIswearI’llknockitoff。ThatstatueofBritanniaoverthereisn’tquitestraight;itsticksforwardabitasiftheladyweregoingtotoppleover。
  Thedamnedthingisthatitdoesn’ttoppleoverandbedonewithit。See,it’sclampedwithanironprop。
  Don’tbesurprisedifIgetupinthemiddleofthenighttohikeitdown。"
  Theypacedthepathforafewmomentsinsilenceandthenhecontinued。"It’soddthoselittlethingsseemspeciallybigwhentherearebiggerthingstoworryabout。We’dbettergoinanddosomework。"
  HorneFisherevidentlyallowedforalltheneuroticpossibilitiesofArcherandthedissipatedhabitsofHerries;andwhateverhisfaithintheirpresentfirmness,didnotundulytaxtheirtimeandattention,eveninthecaseofthePrimeMinister。Hehadgottheconsentofthelatterfinallytothecommittingoftheimportantdocuments,withtheorderstotheWesternarmies,tothecareofalessconspicuousandmoresolidperson——anuncleofhisnamedHorneHewitt,arathercolorlesscountrysquirewhohadbeenagoodsoldier,andwasthemilitaryadviserofthecommittee。Hewaschargedwithexpeditingthegovernmentpledge,alongwiththeconcertedmilitaryplans,tothehalf—mutinouscommandinthewest;
  andthestillmoreurgenttaskofseeingthatitdidnotfallintothehandsoftheenemy,whomightappearatanymomentfromtheeast。Overandabovethismilitaryofficial,theonlyotherpersonpresentwasapoliceofficial,acertainDoctorPrince,originallyapolicesurgeonandnowadistinguisheddetective,senttobeabodyguardtothegroup。Hewasasquare—facedmanwithbigspectaclesandagrimacethatexpressedtheintentionofkeepinghismouthshut。Nobodyelsesharedtheircaptivityexceptthehotelproprietor,acrustyKentishmanwithacrab—appleface,oneortwoofhisservants,andanotherservantprivatelyattachedtoLordJamesHerries。HewasayoungScotchmannamedCampbell,wholookedmuchmoredistinguishedthanhisbilious—lookingmaster,havingchestnuthairandalongsaturninefacewithlargebutfinefeatures。Hewasprobablytheonereallyefficientpersoninthehouse。
  Afteraboutfourdaysoftheinformalcouncil,Marchhadcometofeelasortofgrotesquesublimityaboutthesedubiousfigures,defiantinthetwilightofdanger,asiftheywerehunchbacksandcripplesleftalonetodefendatown。Allwereworkinghard;andhehimselflookedupfromwritingapageofmemorandainaprivateroomtoseeHorneFisherstandinginthedoorway,accouteredasiffortravel。
  HefanciedthatFisherlookedalittlepale;andafteramomentthatgentlemanshutthedoorbehindhimandsaid,quietly:
  "Well,theworsthashappened。Ornearlytheworst。"
  "Theenemyhaslanded,"criedMarch,andsprangerectoutofhischair。
  "Oh,Iknewtheenemywouldland,"saidFisher,withcomposure。"Yes,he’slanded;butthat’snottheworstthatcouldhappen。Theworstisthatthere’saleakofsomesort,evenfromthisfortressofours。It’sbeenabitofashocktome,Icantellyou;thoughI
  supposeit’sillogical。Afterall,Iwasfullofadmirationatfindingthreehonestmeninpolitics。I
  oughtnottobefullofastonishmentifIfindonlytwo。"
  Heruminatedamomentandthensaid,insuchafashionthatMarchcouldhardlytellifhewerechangingthesubjectorno:
  "It’shardatfirsttobelievethatafellowlikeHerries,whohadpickledhimselfinvicelikevinegar,canhaveanyscrupleleft。ButaboutthatI’venoticedacuriousthing。Patriotismisnotthefirstvirtue。
  PatriotismrotsintoPrussianismwhenyoupretenditisthefirstvirtue。Butpatriotismissometimesthelastvirtue。Amanwillswindleorseducewhowillnotsellhiscountry。Butwhoknows?"
  "Butwhatistobedone?"criedMarch,indignantly。
  "Myunclehasthepaperssafeenough,"repliedFisher,"andissendingthemwestto—night;butsomebodyistryingtogetatthemfromout。side,Ifearwiththeassistanceofsomebodyin。side。AllIcandoatpresentistotrytoheadoffthemanoutside;andImustgetawaynowanddoit。Ishallbebackinabouttwenty—fourhours。
  WhileI’mawayIwantyoutokeepaneyeonthesepeopleandfindoutwhatyoucan。Aurevoir。"Hevanisheddownthestairs;andfromthewindowMarchcouldseehimmountamotorcycleandtrailawaytowardtheneighboringtown。
  Onthefollowingmorning,Marchwassittinginthewindowseatoftheoldinnparlor,whichwasoak—paneledandordinarilyratherdark;butonthatoccasionitwasfullofthewhitelightofacuriouslyclearmorning——themoonhadshonebrilliantlyforthelasttwoorthreenights。Hewashimselfsomewhatinshadowinthecornerofthewindowseat;andLordJamesHerries,cominginhastilyfromthegardenbehind,didnotseehim。LordJamesclutchedthebackofachair,asiftosteadyhimself,and,sittingdownabruptlyatthetable,litteredwiththelastmeal,pouredhimselfoutatumblerofbrandyanddrankit。
  HesatwithhisbacktoMarch,buthisyellowfaceappearedinaroundmirrorbeyonandthetingeofitwaslikethatofsomehorriblemalady。AsMarchmovedhestartedviolentlyandfacedround。
  "MyGod!"hecried,"haveyouseenwhat’soutside?"
  "Outside?"repeatedtheother,glancingoverhisshoulderatthegarden。
  "Oh,goandlookforyourself,"criedHerriesinasortoffury。"Hewitt’smurderedandhispapersstolen,that’sall。"
  Heturnedhisbackagainandsatdownwithathud;hissquareshoulderswereshaking。HaroldMarchdartedoutofthedoorwayintothebackgardenwithitssteepslopeofstatues。
  ThefirstthinghesawwasDoctorPrince,thedetective,peeringthroughhisspectaclesatsomethingontheground;thesecondwasthethinghewaspeeringat。Evenafterthesensationalnewshehadheardinside,thesightwassomethingofasensation。
  ThemonstrousstoneimageofBritanniawaslyingproneandfacedownwardonthegardenpath;andtherestuckoutatrandomfromunderneathit,likethelegsofasmashedfly,anarmcladinawhiteshirtsleeveandalegcladinakhakitrouser,andhairoftheunmistakablesandygraythatbelongedtoHorneFisher’sunfortunateuncle。Therewerepoolsofbloodandthelimbswerequitestiffindeath。
  "Couldn’tthishavebeenanaccident?"saidMarch,findingwordsatlast。
  "Lookforyourself,Isay,"repeatedtheharshvoiceofHerries,whohadfollowedhimwithrestlessmovementsoutofthedoor。"Thepapersaregone,I
  tellyou。Thefellowtorethecoatoffthecorpseandcutthepapersoutoftheinnerpocket。There’sthecoatoverthereonthebank,withthegreatslashinit。"
  "Butwaitaminute,"saidthedetective,Prince,quietly。"Inthatcasethereseemstobesomethingofamystery。Amurderermightsomehowhavemanagedtothrowthestatuedownonhim,asheseemstohavedone。ButIbethecouldn’teasilyhavelifteditupagain。I’vetried;andI’msureitwouldwantthreemenatleast。Yetwemustsuppose,onthattheory,thatthemurdererfirstknockedhimdownashewalkedpast,usingthestatueasastoneclub,thenlifteditupagain,tookhimoutanddeprivedhimofhiscoat,thenputhimbackagaininthepostureofdeathandneatlyreplacedthestatue。Itellyouit’sphysicallyimpossible。Andhowelsecouldhehaveunclothedamancoveredwiththatstonemonument?It’sworsethantheconjurer’strick,whenamanshufflesacoatoffwithhiswriststied。"
  "Couldhehavethrowndownthestatueafterhe’dstrippedthecorpse?"askedMarch。
  "Andwhy?"askedPrince,sharply。"Ifhe’dkilledhismanandgothispapers,he’dbeawaylikethewind。Hewouldn’tpotteraboutinagardenexcavatingthepedestalsofstatues。Besides——Hullo,who’sthatupthere?"
  Highontheridgeabovethem,drawnindarkthinlinesagainstthesky,wasafigurelookingsolongandleanastobealmostspidery。Thedarksilhouetteoftheheadshowedtwosmalltuftslikehorns;andtheycouldalmosthaveswornthatthehornsmoved。
  "Archer!"shoutedHerries,withsuddenpassion,andcalledtohimwithcursestocomedown。Thefiguredrewbackatthefirstcry,withanagitatedmovementsoabruptasalmosttobecalledanantic。
  Thenextmomentthemanseemedtoreconsiderandcollecthimself,andbegantocomedownthezigzaggardenpath,butwithobviousreluctance,hisfeetfallinginslowerandslowerrhythm。ThroughMarch’smindwerethrobbingthephrasesthatthismanhimselfhadused,aboutgoingmadinthemiddleofthenightandwreckingthestonefigure。justso,hecouldfancy,themaniacwhohaddonesuchathingmightclimbthecrestofthehill,inthatfeverishdancingfashion,andlookdownonthewreckhehadmade。Butthewreckhehadmadeherewasnotonlyawreckofstone。
  Whenthemanemergedatlastontothegardenpath,withthefulllightonhisfaceandfigure,hewaswalkingslowlyindeed,buteasily,andwithnoappearanceoffear。
  "Thisisaterriblething,"hesaid。"Isawitfromabove;Iwastakingastrollalongtheridge。"
  "Doyoumeanthatyousawthemurder?"
  demandedMarch,"ortheaccident?Imeandidyouseethestatuefall?"
  "No,"saidArcher,"ImeanIsawthestatuefallen。"
  Princeseemedtobepayingbutlittleattention;hiseyewasrivetedonanobjectlyingonthepathayardortwofromthecorpse。Itseemedtobearustyironbarbentcrookedatoneend。
  "OnethingIdon’tunderstand,’hesaid,"isallthisblood。Thepoorfellow’sskullisn’tsmashed;mostlikelyhisneckisbroken;butbloodseemstohavespoutedasifallhisarteriesweresevered。Iwaswonderingifsomeotherinstrument……thatironthing,forinstance;butIdon’tseethateventhatissharpenough。Isupposenobodyknowswhatitis。"
  "Iknowwhatitis,"saidArcherinhisdeepbutsomewhatshakyvoice。"I’veseenitinmynightmares。Itwastheironclamporproponthepedestal,stuckontokeepthewretchedimageuprightwhenitbegantowabble,Isuppose。Anyhow,itwasalwaysstuckinthestoneworkthere;andI
  supposeitcameoutwhenthethingcollapsed。"
  DoctorPrincenodded,buthecontinuedtolookdownatthepoolsofbloodandthebarofiron。
  "I’mcertainthere’ssomethingmoreunderneathallthis,"hesaidatlast。"Perhapssomethingmoreunderneaththestatue。Ihaveahugesortofhunchthatthereis。Wearefourmennowandbetweenuswecanliftthatgreattombstonethere。"
  Theyallbenttheirstrengthtothebusiness;therewasasilencesaveforheavybreathing;andthen,afteraninstantofthetotteringandstaggeringofeightlegs,thegreatcarvencolumnofrockwasrolledaway,andthebodylyinginitsshirtandtrouserswasfullyrevealed。ThespectaclesofDoctorPrinceseemedalmosttoenlargewitharestrainedradiancelikegreateyes;forotherthingswererevealedalso。
  OnewasthattheunfortunateHewitthadadeepgashacrossthejugular,whichthetriumphantdoctorinstantlyidentifiedashavingbeenmadewithasharpsteeledgelikearazor。Theotherwasthatimmediatelyunderthebanklaylitteredthreeshiningscrapsofsteel,eachnearlyafootlong,onepointedandanotherfittedintoagorgeouslyjeweledhiltorhandle。ItwasevidentlyasortoflongOrientalknife,longenoughtobecalledasword,butwithacuriouswavyedge;andtherewasatouchortwoofbloodonthepoint。
  "Ishouldhaveexpectedmoreblood,hardlyonthepoint,"observedDoctorPrince,thoughtfully,"butthisiscertainlytheinstrument。Theslashwascertainlymadewithaweaponshapedlikethis,andprobablytheslashingofthepocketaswell。Isupposethebrutethrewinthestatue,bywayofgivinghimapublicfuneral。"
  Marchdidnotanswer;hewasmesmerizedbythestrangestonesthatglitteredonthestrangeswordhilt;
  andtheirpossiblesignificancewasbroadeninguponhimlikeadreadfuldawn。ItwasacuriousAsiaticweapon。HeknewwhatnamewasconnectedinhismemorywithcuriousAsiaticweapons。LordJamesspokehissecretthoughtforhim,andyetitstartledhimlikeanirrelevance。
  "WhereisthePrimeMinister?"Herrieshadcried,suddenly,andsomehowlikethebarkofadogatsomediscovery。
  DoctorPrinceturnedonhimhisgogglesandhisgrimface;anditwasgrimmerthanever。
  "Icannotfindhimanywhere,"hesaid。"Ilookedforhimatonce,assoonasIfoundthepapersweregone。Thatservantofyours,Campbell,madeamostefficientsearch,buttherearenotraces。"
  Therewasalongsilence,attheendofwhichHerriesutteredanothercry,butuponanentirelynewnote。
  "Well,youneedn’tlookforhimanylonger,"hesaid,"forherehecomes,alongwithyourfriendFisher。Theylookasifthey’dbeenforalittlewalkingtour。"
  ThetwofiguresapproachingupthepathwereindeedthoseofFisher,splashedwiththemireoftravelandcarryingascratchlikethatofabrambleacrossonesideofhisbaldforehead,andofthegreatandgray—hairedstatesmanwholookedlikeababyandwasinterestedinEasternswordsandswordmanship。Butbeyondthisbodilyrecognition,Marchcouldmakeneitherheadnortailoftheirpresenceordemeanor,whichseemedtogiveafinaltouchofnonsensetothewholenightmare。Themorecloselyhewatchedthem,astheystoodlisteningtotherevelationsofthedetective,themorepuzzledhewasbytheirattitude——Fisherseemedgrievedbythedeathofhisuncle,buthardlyshockedatit;theoldermanseemedalmostopenlythinkingaboutsomethingelse,andneitherhadanythingtosuggestaboutafurtherpursuitofthefugitivespyandmurderer,inspiteoftheprodigiousimportanceofthedocumentshehadstolen。Whenthedetectivehadgoneofftobusyhimselfwiththatdepartmentofthebusiness,totelephoneandwritehisreport,whenHerrieshadgoneback,probablytothebrandybottle,andthePrimeMinisterhadblandlysaunteredawaytowardacomfortablearmchairinanotherpartofthegarden,HorneFisherspokedirectlytoHaroldMarch。
  "Myfriend,"hesaid,"Iwantyoutocomewithmeatonce;thereisnooneelseIcantrustsomuchasthat。Thejourneywilltakeusmostoftheday,andthechiefbusinesscannotbedonetillnightfall。Sowecantalkthingsoverthoroughlyontheway。ButIwantyoutobewithme;forIratherthinkitismyhour。"
  MarchandFisherbothhadmotorbicycles;andthefirsthalfoftheirday’sjourneyconsistedincoastingeastwardamidtheunconversationalnoiseofthoseuncomfortableengines。ButwhentheycameoutbeyondCanterburyintotheflatsofeasternKent,Fisherstoppedatapleasantlittlepublichousebesideasleepystream;andtheysatdowntocatandtodrinkandtospeakalmostforthefirsttime。Itwasabrilliantafternoon,birdsweresinginginthewoodbehind,andthesunshonefullontheiralebenchandtable;butthefaceofFisherinthestrongsunlighthadagravityneverseenonitbefore。
  "Beforewegoanyfarther,"hesaid,"thereissomethingyououghttoknow。YouandIhaveseensomemysteriousthingsandgottothebottomofthembeforenow;andit’sonlyrightthatyoushouldgettothebottomofthisone。ButindealingwiththedeathofmyuncleImustbeginattheotherendfromwhereourolddetectiveyarnsbegan。Iwillgiveyouthestepsofdeductionpresently,ifyouwanttolistentothem;butIdidnotreachthetruthofthisbystepsofdeduction。Iwillfirstofalltellyouthetruthitself,becauseIknewthetruthfromthefirst。TheothercasesIapproachedfromtheoutside,butinthiscaseIwasinside。Imyselfwastheverycoreandcenterofeverything。"
  Somethinginthespeaker’spendenteyelidsandgravegrayeyessuddenlyshookMarchtohisfoundations;andhecried,distractedly,"Idon’tunderstand!"asmendowhentheyfearthattheydounderstand。Therewasnosoundforaspacebutthehappychatterofthebirds,andthenHorneFishersaid,calmly:
  "ItwasIwhokilledmyuncle。Ifyouparticularlywantmore,itwasIwhostolethestatepapersfromhim。"
  "Fisher!"criedhisfriendinastrangledvoice。
  "Letmetellyouthewholethingbeforewepart,"
  continuedtheother,"andletmeputit,forthesakeofclearness,asweusedtoputouroldproblems。Nowtherearetwothingsthatarepuzzlingpeopleaboutthatproblem,aren’tthere?Thefirstishowthemurderermanagedtoslipoffthedeadman’scoat,whenhewasalreadypinnedtothegroundwiththatstoneincubus。Theother,whichismuchsmallerandlesspuzzling,isthefactoftheswordthatcuthisthroatbeingslightlystainedatthepoint,insteadofagooddealmorestainedattheedge。Well,Icandisposeofthefirstquestioneasily。HorneHewitttookoffhisowncoatbeforehewaskilled。Imightsayhetookoffhiscoattobekilled。"
  "Doyoucallthatanexplanation?"exclaimedMarch。"Thewordsseemmoremeaningless,thanthefacts。"
  "Well,letusgoontotheotherfacts,"continuedFisher,equably。"ThereasonthatparticularswordisnotstainedattheedgewithHewitt’sbloodisthatitwasnotusedtokillHewitt。
  "Butthedoctor,"protestedMarch,"declareddistinctlythatthewoundwasmadebythatparticularsword。"
  "Ibegyourpardon,"repliedFisher。"Hedidnotdeclarethatitwasmadebythatparticularsword。Hedeclareditwasmadebyaswordofthatparticularpattern。"
  "Butitwasquiteaqueerandexceptionalpattern,"
  arguedMarch;"surelyitisfartoofantasticacoincidencetoimagine——"
  "Itwasafantasticcoincidence,"reflectedHorneFisher。"It’sextraordinarywhatcoincidencesdosometimesoccur。Bytheoddestchanceintheworld,byonechanceinamillion,itsohappenedthatanotherswordofexactlythesameshapewasinthesamegardenatthesametime。Itmaybepartlyexplained,bythefactthatIbroughtthembothintothegardenmyself……come,mydearfellow;surelyyoucanseenowwhatitmeans。Putthosetwothingstogether;thereweretwoduplicateswordsandhetookoffhiscoatforhimself。ItmayassistyourspeculationstorecallthefactthatIamnotexactlyanassassin。"
  "Aduel!"exclaimedMarch,recoveringhimself。
  "OfcourseIoughttohavethoughtofthat。Butwhowasthespywhostolethepapers?"
  "Myunclewasthespywhostolethepapers,"
  repliedFisher,"orwhotriedtostealthepaperswhenIstoppedhim——intheonlywayIcould。Thepapers,thatshouldhavegonewesttoreassureourfriendsandgivethemtheplansforrepellingtheinvasion,wouldinafewhourshavebeeninthehandsoftheinvader。WhatcouldIdo?TohavedenouncedoneofourfriendsatthismomentwouldhavebeentoplayintothehandsofyourfriendAttwood,andallthepartyofpanicandslavery。Besides,itmaybethatamanoverfortyhasasubconsciousdesiretodieashehaslived,andthatIwanted,inasense,tocarrymysecretstothegrave。Perhapsahobbyhardenswithage;andmyhobbyhasbeensilence。PerhapsIfeelthatIhavekilledmymother’sbrother,butIhavesavedmymother’sname。Anyhow,IchoseatimewhenIknewyouwereallasleep,andhewaswalkingaloneinthegarden。Isawallthestonestatuesstandinginthemoonlight;andImyselfwaslikeoneofthosestonestatueswalking。Inavoicethatwasnotmyown,Itoldhimofhistreasonanddemandedthepapers;andwhenherefused,Iforcedhimtotakeoneofthetwoswords。TheswordswereamongsomespecimenssentdownhereforthePrimeMinister’sinspection;heisacollector,youknow;theyweretheonlyequalweaponsIcouldfind。
  Tocutanuglytaleshort,wefoughtthereonthepathinfrontoftheBritanniastatue;hewasamanofgreatstrength,butIhadsomewhattheadvantageinskill。
  Hisswordgrazedmyforeheadalmostatthemomentwhenminesankintothejointinhisneck。Hefellagainstthestatue,likeCaesaragainstPompey’s,hangingontotheironrail;hisswordwasalreadybroken。WhenIsawthebloodfromthatdeadlywound,everythingelsewentfromme;Idroppedmyswordandranasiftolifthimup。AsIbenttowardhimsomethinghappenedtooquickformetofollow。I
  donotknowwhethertheironbarwasrottedwithrustandcameawayinhishand,orwhetherherentitoutoftherockwithhisapelikestrength;butthethingwasinhishand,andwithhisdyingenergiesheswungitovermyhead,asIkneltthereunarmedbesidehim。
  Ilookedupwildlytoavoidtheblow,andsawaboveusthegreatbulkofBritannialeaningoutwardlikethefigureheadofaship。ThenextinstantIsawitwasleaninganinchortwomorethanusual,andalltheskieswiththeiroutstandingstarsseemedtobeleaningwithit。Forthethirdseconditwasasiftheskiesfell;andinthefourthIwasstandinginthequietgarden,lookingdownonthatflatruinofstoneandboneatwhichyouwerelookingto—day。HehadpluckedoutthelastpropthathelduptheBritishgoddess,andshehadfallenandcrushedthetraitorinherfall。IturnedanddartedforthecoatwhichIknewtocontainthepackage,rippeditupwithmysword,andracedawayupthegardenpathtowheremymotorbikewaswaitingontheroadabove。Ihadeveryreasonforhaste;butIfledwithoutlookingbackatthestatueandthe。body;andIthinkthethingIfledfromwasthesightofthatappallingallegory。
  "ThenIdidtherestofwhatIhadtodo。AllthroughthenightandintothedaybreakandthedaylightIwenthummingthroughthevillagesandmarketsofSouthEnglandlikeatravelingbullet,tillI
  cametotheheadquartersintheWestwherethetroublewas。Iwasjustintime。Iwasabletoplacardtheplace,sotospeak,withthenewsthatthegovernmenthadnotbetrayedthem,andthattheywouldfindsupportsiftheywouldpusheastwardagainsttheenemy。There’snotimetotellyouallthathappened;butItellyouitwasthedayofmylife。A
  triumphlikeatorchlightprocession,withtorchlightsthatmighthavebeenfirebrands。Themutiniessimmereddown;themenofSomersetandthewesterncountiescamepouringintothemarketplaces;themenwhodiedwithArthurandstoodfirmwithAlfred。TheIrishregimentsralliedtothem,afterascenelikeariot,andmarchedeastwardoutofthetownsingingFeniansongs。Therewasallthatisnotunderstood,aboutthedarklaughterofthatpeople,inthedelightwithwhich,evenwhenmarchingwiththeEnglishtothedefenseofEngland,theyshoutedatthetopoftheirvoices,’Highuponthegallowstreestoodthenoble—heartedthree……WithEngland’scruelcordaboutthemcast。’However,thechoruswas’GodsaveIreland,’andwecouldallhavesungthatjustthen,inonesenseoranother。
  "Buttherewasanothersidetomymission。I
  carriedtheplansofthedefense;andtoagreatextent,luckily,theplansoftheinvasionalso。Iwon’tworryyouwithstrategics;butweknewwheretheenemyhadpushedforwardthegreatbatterythatcoveredallhismovements;andthoughourfriendsfromtheWestcouldhardlyarriveintimetointerceptthemainmovement,theymightgetwithinlongartilleryrangeofthebatteryandshellit,iftheyonlyknewexactlywhereitwas。Theycouldhardlytellthatunlesssomebodyroundaboutheresentupsomesortofsignal。But,somehow,Iratherfancythatsomebodywill。"
  Withthathegotupfromthetable,andtheyremountedtheirmachinesandwenteastwardintotheadvancingtwilightofevening。ThelevelsofthelandscapeWererepeatedinflatstripsoffloatingcloudandthelastcolorsofdayclungtothecircleofthehorizon。Reced。ingfartherandfartherbehindthemwasthesemicircleofthelasthills;anditwasquitesuddenlythattheysawafaroffthedimlineofthesea。Itwasnotastripofbrightblueastheyhadseenitfromthesunnyveranda,butofasinisterandsmokyviolet,atintthatseemedominousanddark。
  HereHorneFisherdismountedoncemore。
  "Wemustwalktherestoftheway,"hesaid,"andthelastbitofallImustwalkalone。"
  Hebentdownandbegantounstrapsomethingfromhisbicycle。Itwassomethingthathadpuzzledhiscompanionallthewayinspiteofwhatheldhimtomoreinterestingriddles;itappearedtobeseverallengthsofpolestrappedtogetherandwrappedupinpaper。Fishertookitunderhisarmandbegantopickhiswayacrosstheturf。Thegroundwasgrowingmoretum。bledandirregularandhewaswalkingtowardamassofthicketsandsmallwoods;nightgrewdarkereverymoment。"Wemustnottalkanymore,"saidFisher。"Ishallwhispertoyouwhenyouaretohalt。Don’ttrytofollowmethen,foritwillonlyspoiltheshow;onemancanbarelycrawlsafelytothespot,andtwowouldcertainlybecaught。"
  "Iwouldfollowyouanywhere,"repliedMarch,"butIwouldhalt,too,ifthatisbetter。"
  "Iknowyouwould,"saidhisfriendinalowvoice。
  "Perhapsyou’retheonlymanIeverquitetrustedinthisworld。"
  Afewpacesfartherontheycametotheendofagreatridgeormoundlookingmonstrousagainstthedimsky;andFisherstoppedwithagesture。Hecaughthiscompanion’shandandwrungitwithaviolenttenderness,andthendartedforwardintothedarkness。Marchcouldfaintlyseehisfigurecrawlingalongundertheshadowoftheridge,thenhelostsightofit,andthenhesawitagainstandingonanothermoundtwohundredyardsaway。Besidehimstoodasingularerectionmadeapparentlyoftworods。Hebentoveritandtherewastheflareofalight;allMarch’sschoolboymemorieswokeinhim,andheknewwhatitwas。Itwasthestandofarocket。Theconfused,incongruousmemoriesstillpossessedhimuptotheverymomentofafiercebutfamiliarsound;andaninstantaftertherocketleftitsperchandwentupintoendlessspacelikeastarryarrowaimedatthestars。MarchthoughtsuddenlyofthesignsofthelastdaysandknewhewaslookingattheapocalypticmeteorofsomethinglikeaDayofjudgment。
  Farupintheinfiniteheavenstherocketdroopedandsprangintoscarletstars。Foramomentthewholelandscapeouttotheseaandbacktothecrescentofthewoodedhillswaslikealakeofrubylight,ofaredstrangelyrichandglorious,asiftheworldweresteepedinwineratherthanblood,ortheearthwereanearthlyparadise,overwhichpausedforeverthesanguinemomentofmorning。
  "GodsaveEngland!"criedFisher,withatonguelikethepealofatrumpet。"AndnowitisforGodtosave。"
  Asdarknesssankagainoverlandandsea,therecameanothersound;farawayinthepassesofthehillsbehindthemthegunsspokelikethebayingofgreathounds。Somethingthatwasnotarocket,thatcamenothissingbutscreaming,wentoverHaroldMarch’sheadandexpandedbeyondthemoundintolightanddeafeningdin,staggeringthebrainwithunbearablebrutalitiesofnoise。Anothercame,andthenanother,andtheworldwasfullofuproarandvolcanicvaporandchaoticlight。TheartilleryoftheWestcountryandtheIrishhadlocatedthegreatenemybattery,andwerepoundingittopieces。
  InthemadexcitementofthatmomentMarchpeeredthroughthestorm,lookingagainforthelongleanfigurethatstoodbesidethestandoftherocket。
  Thenanotherflashlitupthewholeridge。Thefigurewasnotthere。
  Beforethefiresoftherockethadfadedfromthesky,longbeforethefirstgunhadsoundedfromthedistanthills,asplutterofriflefirehadflashedandflickeredallaroundfromthehiddentrenchesoftheenemy。Somethinglayintheshadowatthefootoftheridge,asstiffasthestickofthefallenrocket;andthemanwhoknewtoomuchknewwhatisworthknowing。