by Maud Diver
CHAPTER XXXI.
"When the fight begins within himself, The man's worth something." --Browning.
Lenox, back at his writing-table, automatically took up his pen. Butfive minutes later he still sat thus, looking straight ahead of himinto a future darkened by the encroaching shadow of opium, andcomplicated by this new factor of open discord, which--apart from thepain of finding division, where he had looked for unity--set all hisnerves on edge.
Hitherto, his distaste for friction, coupled with an almost unlimitedpower of endurance, had inclined him to let matters slide. But now hisconscience--the accusing, spiritual thing that was himself--warned himthat if marriage meant compromise, it also meant responsibility; thathaving been goaded into decisive speech, he stood pledged to decisiveaction, for her sake, even more than for his own. Yet, at the moment,he felt physically and mentally unfit to grapple with the complexsituation, hampered as he was by the experience of all that may springfrom one false move, one instant of unguarded speech; and the knowledgethat his insight, his judgment, were clouded by the insomnia, grindingheadache, and renewed wrestling with a power stronger than his will.For there was no evading the truth, that, in the past weeks, the drughad gained fresh hold upon him; had resuscitated the old paralysingpessimism and dread of defeat, so that he asked himself bitterly whatright had he to sit in judgment upon any one, least of all upon thedear woman who was the core and mainspring of his life?
Yet, fit or unfit, the need for action, for the rightful assertion ofauthority, remained. He laid down his pen, planted an elbow on thetable, and covered his eyes; struggling for clear unprejudiced thought;tormented by the consciousness of a certain small box hidden away in alocked drawer within easy reach of his hand.
Suddenly he sat upright. The lines of his face hardened; a coldmoisture broke out upon his forehead; and the desperate look in hiseyes was an ill thing to see. Yet his movements had a strangemechanical deliberation, as he opened the drawer, found the box, helpedhimself from its contents, and, locking it up again, leaned back withthe long exhausted sigh of a man released from tension.
For several minutes he sat thus, arms folded, eyes closed; yieldinghimself to the luxury of relief that stole over him, while the greatmagician plucked the pain from throbbing nerves, unravelled the tangleof thought and feeling, soothed brain and body like the touch of awoman's hand.
But relief, as always, brought revulsion; this time sooner than usual;because for many days he had held his own against the evil thing, andhad almost begun to believe himself on the upward grade.
"Damnation!" he broke out fiercely, and, the key being still in hishand, flung it haphazard right across the room. It fell between aheavy bookcase and the wall; and with a savage laugh of satisfaction,he took up his pen, and began to write rapidly, without pausing toselect words or phrases. He tore it all up next morning, but for thetime being it served to distract his thoughts.
Presently he heard Quita's voice at the door.
"Eldred, aren't you coming to tea?"
"No," he answered, without looking round.
"Shall I bring you some, then?"
"No, thank you."
He turned his head just in time to catch sight of her as she closed thedoor; then went on writing with less regard than ever for the matter inhand.
In less than half an hour, Richardson's uneven footstep, betraying theslight limp, sounded without. He paused so long on the other side ofthe door, that Lenox's brows went up in surprise.
"That you, Dick?" he called out. "Come along in."
Richardson obeyed; and Lenox removed three or four books from anadjacent chair.
"Sit down, old chap. You've not been in here often enough lately.Chained to my wife's easel, eh?"
"Partly . . . yes," the other answered, absently fingering some loosesheets of manuscript and ignoring the proffered chair.
"Wasn't sure, either, if you cared about being interrupted. I came innow to say I thought of dining at mess to-night, and clearing out intomy own bungalow to-morrow. You've been uncommonly good to me, you andMrs Lenox. But I think I've been quartered on you long enough; and Ishall probably get back to duty next week."
He spoke rather rapidly, as if to ward off interruption or dissent; andLenox started at finding the initiative thus taken out of his hands.It was not Quita's doing. He felt sure of that. But Dick's mannerpuzzled him, and mere friendliness made acquiescence impossible.
"Well, you seem in a deuce of a hurry to be quit of us," he said, witha short laugh. "Might as well stop till you do get back to duty; andyou might as well sit down and have a smoke, now you're here, insteadof standing there like a confounded subordinate, making havoc of mypapers!"
At that Richardson sat down rather abruptly, and helped himself fromhis friend's cigar-case. He had small talent and less taste forsubterfuge; and, his pulses being in an awkward state of commotion, hetook his time over the beheading and lighting of his cigar. In fact hetook so long that Lenox spoke again.
"What do you suppose my wife will say to your bolting in this way, at amoment's notice! Have you spoken to her yet?"
"No. I was afraid of seeming . . . ungracious; and one could speakstraighter to you."
"Does that mean you really won't stop on?"
"I think not, thanks. It's awfully good of you to suggest it. I canlook in, of course, if Mrs Lenox wants any more sittings. But I may aswell stick to my arrangement and go before she gets sick of having meon her hands."
"You're a long way ahead of that, I fancy," Lenox remarked, with an oddchange of tone.
For a statement of that kind Richardson had no answer. He could onlyacknowledge it with a rueful smile that did not lift the shadow fromhis eyes. There were no sunbeams caught in Quita's 'bits of sea water'just then; and for a while silence and tobacco-smoke reigned in theroom. Richardson, who appeared to be reading the closely written sheetof foolscap at his elbow, was casting about in his mind for the bestmeans of saying that which must be said; while Lenox, watching himkeenly, arrived at the masculine conclusion that Dick had 'come acropper' over something, and possibly needed his help.
"Anything on your mind, old chap?" he asked bluntly, when the silencehad lasted nearly five minutes. And Richardson, taking his resolutionin both hands, looked up from the meaningless page.
"Yes, that's about it. Don't misunderstand me, Lenox. I'd soonerwork with you than with any man in creation; but--there aredifficulties . . . I can't put it plainer--and I'm thinking ofapplying for a Staff appointment. My uncle in the Secretariat wouldgive me a helping hand, if you'd forward the thing with a decentrecommendation. But if you think me too much of a duffer for Staffwork, I must try--for an exchange----"
He could get no further; and Lenox, leaning across the corner of thetable, scrutinised his face with eyes that penetrated like asearchlight.
"Well . . . I'm damned!" he said slowly. "Am I to understand thatafter all we've pulled through together, you want to get away from theBattery at any price?"
"It's not a question of what I want to do; it's what I've got to do,"the other answered, averting his eyes.
"My good Dick, you're talking in riddles. Have you taken temporaryleave of your senses? Or is it a case of 'urgent private affairs'?"
Lenox's tone had an edge to it. Of course the man was free to go wherehe chose. But it had grown to be an understood thing between them thatthey would work together as long as might be, and he could not concealhis disappointment. Richardson knew this, and looked up quickly. Itwas the worst quarter of an hour he had ever known. Facing Waziribullets was a small matter compared with this despicable business ofdisappointing and deceiving his friend.
"It's urgent enough, God knows!" he answered desperately. "I can't saymore than that, Lenox. I swear I can't."
He looked straight at Lenox in speaking. And this time the older man'sgaze held him, in spite of himself, till the blood burned under hisfair skin; till he perceived, between shame and relief, that
his secretwas his no longer; that Lenox had seen, and understood. His firstinstinct was--to escape. Such knowledge shared was enough to strikeany man dumb.
"You _will_ recommend me, won't you, old chap?" he asked all in abreath, with a forward movement, as if to rise and depart.
But Lenox reached across the table, and a heavy hand on his shoulderpressed him back into his seat.
"No need to hurry away, Max. We've settled nothing yet."
The assurance of unshaken friendship in his altered manner, and in thesudden use of Richardson's first name, automatically readjusted thesituation, without need of so much as a glance of mutual understanding,which neither could have endured.
"I'm afraid I can't recommend you for Staff work," Lenox went onquietly, as though dealing with a mere official detail, submitted forhis approval. "Not because you are a duffer, but because I can't sparemy right-hand man. I'm not an easy chap to work with, as you know.But we've learnt one another's ways by now, and, unless political workclaims me, we can't do better than run the Battery together till youget a command--and that's not far off now. As for your urgent need ofa change, if six months at home would suit you, I'll do my best tosquare it. We might manage sick-leave, on the strength of your leg,eh?"
Richardson breathed deeply.
"Thank you, Lenox. It's splendid of you. I'd be awfully glad of thechange."
"That's all right. And I tell you what, Dick," he paused, and smiledupon his friend. "Hope I'm not taking an infernal liberty! But if youcan afford it--and if you can hit on the right girl--you might do worsethan bring a wife back with you. You're the sort that's bound to marrysome time, and you may take my word for it, thirty's a better age tostart than thirty-five."
Richardson laughed, and coloured again, hotly.
"It takes two to make that sort of start," he said, "And if a fellowhits on the wrong one, it must be the very devil."
"Yes, by Jove, it must!" Lenox answered feelingly; adding in his ownmind that even with the right one, it could be the very devil, now andagain. "Think of poor Norton. But you'll have better luck, I hope.About stopping on for the present, of course you must please yourself.You'd be very welcome; and if you're afraid of taking up too much of mywife's time, you can easily give me more of your company than you havedone so far. See how you feel about it to-morrow."
"Thanks, I will."
He rose now unhindered; and stood a moment hesitating, fired with avery human wish to express his gratitude. But Lenox had accepted anddismissed the whole incident in a fashion at once so impersonal, sochivalrous, that his aching sense of disloyalty and unworthiness seemedto have been tacitly wiped out, leaving one only course open to him--toact as though that culminating hour of madness had never been.
"See you again before I start for mess," he said, as Lenox looked up.And the dreaded interview--that should have broken up everything, yethad altered nothing, save his own estimate of life--was over.
Lenox, left alone again, bowed his head upon his hands, and sat a longtime motionless, while the white flame of anger leaped and burned inhis brain; anger such as he had never yet felt towards his wife. Thespirit of his formidable uncle still so far survived in him thatinstinctively he blamed the woman; blamed himself also because prideand a strong distaste for self-assertion had inclined him to anattitude of masterly inactivity. In this fine fashion, between them,they had rewarded Dick for an unrecognised act of gallantry that mightwell have cost him his life; and nothing now remained but to make suchinadequate atonement as the case admitted. Strange as it may seem, hehad never come so near to loving his friend as at that moment.
As for Quita--was there even the remotest chance that she also . . . ?His brain refused to complete such a question. The thing wasunthinkable. But in any case his own duty stood out crystal clear.When he had mastered his anger sufficiently to risk speech, he and shemust come to terms upon this thorny subject once for all. And he musttake his stand upon the bare rock of principle. Let her brand himbourgeois, Covenanter, what she would. Dick's secret must be kept--atany cost!
