The Boy with Wings

by Berta Ruck

  CHAPTER I

  THE AVIATION DINNER

  Gwenna began to feel a little nervous and intimidated, even in the carthat took herself and the Aeroplane Lady and the Airman to the Aviationdinner.

  A hundred yards before they reached the portals of the Club in Pall Mallthat car stopped. Then it began to advance again a yard or two at atime. A long row of other cars and taxis was ahead, and from themalighted guests in dull black opera hats, with mufflers; once or twicethere was the light and jewelled gleam of a woman's wrap, but they weremostly men who were driving up.

  "Colonel Conyers," said Paul Dampier to the attendant in the greatmarble-tiled entrance.

  Then he was shown off to the right; Gwenna and the Aeroplane Lady to thedressing-rooms on the left. Before an immense glass they removed theirwraps and came out to the waiting-room, the girl all misty-white withthe sky-blue sash and the dancing-shoes; the Lady gowned in grey satinthat had just the gleam of aluminium in that factory of hers, and withher brooch of the winged serpents fastened at her breast.

  They sat down at one of the little polished tables in the waiting-roomunder the long windows on to Pall Mall; it was a high, light-panelledroom, with a frieze of giant roses. A couple of ladies went by to thedressing-room, greeting Mrs. Crew as they passed.

  Then there stopped to speak to her a third and older and very handsomelady all in black, with diamonds ablaze in her laces and in her grey,piled-up hair.

  "There should be some good speeches to-night, shouldn't there?" saidthis lady. "All these splendid men!... You know, my dear, take us forall in all"--and she gave a little laugh--"we _are_ splendid!"

  "But there are so few of us," said the Aeroplane Lady, ruefully.

  The other woman, about to pass on, stopped for a moment again, andlooking over her white shoulder said, very seriously, something thatboth her hearers were to remember. "If England is ever to be saved, itwill be by a few."

  She went out; and Mrs. Crewe said to Gwenna, "That was Lady----"(Something) "the wife of the man who's as responsible as most people forthe security of this Empire----"

  Most of the people there seemed to know the Aeroplane Lady quite well,Gwenna noticed, when Paul Dampier came up and took them out into theCentral Hall again, where the guests were assembling. The place seemedas high as a cathedral, with a marble floor, and alcoves, and tall,classic, brass tripod things to hold the end of men's cigarettes andashes. The Aeroplane Lady was at once surrounded by a group of men.Gwenna, feeling very shy and little and of no account, turned to herAirman.

  "You said," she murmured reproachfully, "that there _weren't_ going tobe a lot of grand people."

  "These aren't 'grand,' bless you! People aren't, who are really--well,who 'do things,' as you say. Not nearly as frilly here as at the Smiths,that other dinner," he said, smiling down at her. "I'm going to bring upColonel Conyers and introduce him to you----"

  "_Him?_ Good _gracious_!" thought the little Welsh girl in consternationto herself. "Colonel Conyers!--oh, no, please--I should be much toofrightened----"

  But the tall figure had detached itself from a group at a word from PaulDampier, and Colonel Conyers came up. Gwenna recognised the lean,smiling, half-mischievous face of the soldier who--those ages ago!--hadtalked to those ladies in the motor-car at Hendon.

  This was the man they called "Aircraft Conyers," the man practically atthe head of Aeronautics, Paul had, said, the man in whose hands rested(among so many, many other things) the whole career of the inventor ofthe P.D.Q.! Gwenna, with her curly head whirling, felt inclined to dropa schoolchild's curtsy to this Great One of the Councils of the Earth.

  He took her hand into his own long, lean one.

  "How d'you do?" he drawled, smiling cheerfully. "Starving, what? I am, Ican tell you. Always late here. Won't be long, now. You're at my table,I believe." Then, almost anxiously, "Fond of chocolates? You are? Good.Then I can collect the lot of those little silver dishes around us andpretend it's all for you. It's for me, really."

  Gwenna, who was not able to help laughing at this unexpectedness on thepart of the great Aircraft Conyers, said: "Are _you_ fond of them?"

  "Passionately. Passionately!" said Colonel Conyers with a nod, as heturned to find his own dinner-partner.

  "Didn't frighten you much, did he?" laughed Paul Dampier to the LittleThing at his side. "Course he didn't. I'll tell you who most of theothers are when we get into the supper-room."

  In the great supper-room with its painted ceiling and gilded pillarsdinner was laid on a number of small tables for parties of six or eight.Gwenna found herself the only woman at their table, the Aeroplane Ladysitting far down at the other end of the room.

  All dazed, the young girl looked about her like a stray bird that hasfluttered in through an open window. Beside her, Paul Dampier pointedout to her this celebrity and that at the tables.

  "Colonel Conyers you've seen...." (That personage had nodded to theyoung girl over a stack of pink roses and had made a little movement toshow the basket of sweets beside his plate.) "Now that man with theOrder, that's Lord" (So-and-So), "Director of Coast Defence. And that"(So-and-So), "Chief Engineer. And that little man one down--in theopposite direction from where I'm looking--that's" (So-and-So), "editorof _The Air_. Wonderful chap; brains enough to sink a ship."

  An extraordinary mixture of men, Gwenna thought, as her glance followedhis direction, and he went on talking. Soldiers, sailors, chemists,scientists, ministers; all banded together. Ranks and fortunes weremerged. Here were men of position, men of brains, men of money. Menwhose names were in all the newspapers, and men the papers had neverheard of, all with one aim and object, the furtherance of Civilisation'snewest advance: the Conquest of the Air.

  The dinner proceeded. Pale amber wine whispered and bubbled in herglass, dishes came and went, but the girl scarcely knew what she ate ordrank. She was in a new world, and _he_ had brought her there. She feltit so intensely that presently it almost numbed her. She was long pastthe stage of excitement that manifests itself in gasps and exclamations.She could speak ordinarily and calmly when Paul Dampier, turning fromhis talk to a Physical Laboratory man in a very badly brushed coat,asked her: "Well? Find it interesting?"

  "You know I do," she said, with a grave little glance.

  He said, smiling, "What did you say to the red-haired youth about notgoing to the matinee with him first?"

  "Mr. Ryan? Oh! I just told him I hadn't got over my headache from thesmell of dope, and that I was afraid it would tire me too much to doboth."

  "Pretty annoyed, I expect, wasn't he?"

  "Yes, he was," replied Gwenna, with the absolute callousness of a womanin love towards the feelings of any but the one man. She did not eventrouble whether it had been the feelings or the vanity of Mr. Peter Ryanthat had been hurt. What mattered was that Paul Dampier had not wishedher to go to that matinee.

  Paul Dampier said, "Well, I cried off an engagement to-night, too.Colonel Conyers wanted to take me back with him. But I'm seeing youhome."

  "Oh, but you mustn't; you needn't!" she protested happily. "I'm notgoing down to the Works, you know, to-night. I'm sleeping at the Club.I'm staying this week-end with Leslie."

  "With Leslie, are you? M'm. But I'm taking you up to the Clubafterwards," he persisted. "A fellow's got to look after"--here helaughed a little as if it were a joke that pleased him--"a fellow's gotto look after his _fiancee_, hasn't he?"

  She was a little subdued. She thought for the moment that he had putColonel Conyers off, not for her, after all! but for that Machine ofhis. Then she thought: No!--the machine was second now. She said, halfin hope, half in dread, "D'you mean the P.D.Q.?"

  He turned, with his mouth full of salad, staring whimsically at her.

  "The P.D.Q.? What you thinking of? I meant _you_."

  "_Me?_" She gave a little gasp.

  Life and happiness were too much for her again. She felt as if thatwhispering untouched champagne in her glass had gone to her head. Wasit really true--_that_, that h
e had said?

  "Well, aren't you?" he said gaily, but dropping his voice a little asthe conversation rose about them. "Aren't you that to me? Engaged,aren't we?"

  "Oh, I don't know," the young girl said, breathlessly. It was as if themoon that one had cried for had suddenly dropped, to lie like a round,silver mirror in one's lap. "Did you mean _that_, yesterday afternoon?"

  "Didn't I mean it before that?" he said, half to himself. "What aboutall those dances? that time when Hugo dragged me off to that place bythe river? Those would have been _most_ incorrect," he teased her, "ifwe hadn't been. We shall have to be, my dear."

  Then an impulse took her. (It is known to any young girl who issincerely in Love.)

  "No. Don't let's----" she said suddenly. "Don't let's be 'engaged'!"

  For it seemed to her that a winged Dream was just about to alight and tobecome a clumsy creature of Earth--like that Aeroplane on the FlyingGround. The boy said, staring at her, "_Not_ be engaged? Why on earth?How d'you mean?"

  "I mean, everybody gets '_engaged_,'" she explained very softly andrapidly over the bread that she was crumbling in her little fingers."And it's such a sort of _fuss_, with writing home, and congratulations,and how-long-has-this-been-going-on, and all that sort of thing! Peopleat tea-parties and things _talking_ about us! I _know_ they would!"declared the Welsh girl with distaste, "and saying, 'Dear me, she looksvery young' and _wondering_ about us! Oh, no, _don't_ let's have it! Itwould seem to _spoil_ it, for me! Don't let's _call_ it anything, needwe? Don't let's say anything yet, except to--just US."

  "All right," said the boy with an easy shrug. (He was too young to knowwhat he was escaping.) "Sure I don't mind, as long as you're just withme, all the time we can."

  She said, wonderfully sedate above the tumult in her heart, "Did youbring my locket with you to-night?"

  "No. I didn't. D'you know why? Can't you guess? Because I wanted to giveit back to you when _I_ could put it round my Girl's neck," he told her.And she turned away from him, so happily confused again that she couldnot speak.

  She was his Girl; his. And because he was one of this band of brothers,sitting here feasting and talking, each making it his business tocontribute his share to the sum of what was to be one of the World'sgreatest Forces, why! because of that, even she, little Gwenna Williams,could feel herself to be a tiny part of that Force. She was an Aviator'sgirl--even if it were a wonderful secret that nobody knew, so far, buthe and she.

  (Already everybody at that table and many others in the room hadremarked what a pretty little creature young Dampier's sweetheart was.)

  * * * * *

  "_The King!_" announced the President of the Dinner.

  There was a movement and a rustle all round the great supper-room as theguests rose to the toast; another rustle as they reseated themselves.One of the celebrities whom Paul had pointed out to her began to speakupon the achievements of Wilbur Wright. At the table next to Gwenna somejournalists bent absorbed over scribbling pads. Speech followed speechas the toasts were gone through. The opal-blue haze of cigarette smokedrifted up above the white tables with their rose-pink and fernydecorations. Chairs were pushed sidewards as guests turned alert andlistening faces towards the head of the room; and every now and againthe grave and concise and pleasantly modulated tones of somespeaker-on-the-subject of his heart were broken in upon by a soft stormof applause.

  "Colonel Conyers to speak now," murmured Paul to Gwenna, as the long,lean figure that had been sitting opposite to them rose. He steppedbackwards, to stand against one of those gilded pillars as he made hisspeech, responding to the toast that had coupled his name with that ofthe Flying Wing of the Army.

  Gwenna listened with even more breathless attention than she had paid tothe other speakers.

  Colonel Conyers spoke easily and lightly, as if he had been, not makinga speech, but talking to a knot of friends at his house. He reviewed, interms so simple that even the young girl at his table could follow allhe said, the difficulties and the risks of aviation, and the steps thathad been taken to minimise those risks. Wind, it seemed, had been in agreat measure overcome. Risk from faulty workmanship of machines--that,too, was overcome. Workmanship was now well-nigh as perfect as it couldbe made.

  Here Gwenna glowed with pride, exchanging a glance with her employer fardown the tables. This meant _their_ workmanship at Aircraft Factories;their Factory, too! This meant the labours of Mrs. Crewe and of Mr.Ryan, and of Andre, and of the workmen in overalls at the lathes in thatnoisy central shop. Even the brushful of dope that she, Gwenna, spreadconscientiously over each seam of the great wings, played its tiny partin helping to preserve a Flyer's life!

  The risk in stability, too, Colonel Conyers said, had been successfullycombatted by the gyroscope. There remained, however, Fog and Darkness asthe chief perils, which, at the present moment, of July,Nineteen-fourteen, our Airmen had to fight....

  In the soldier's lean face that shrewd, half-mischievous smile wasflickering as he spoke; his grey trim head turning now and again againstthe gilded column, his keen eyes fixed upon some objective of his own,his strong hand fidgeting in the small mechanical gesture of a man whois less accustomed to speaking about things than to doing them.

  Gwenna thought how different, how entirely different were all thesepeople here from that other dinner-party at the house of the prosperousand artistic Smiths who had found so much to say about the RussianBallet!

  Definitely now Gwenna saw what the chief difference between them was.

  _Those other people treated and spoke of a pastime as though it were amatter of Life and Death. These people here made Life and Death matterstheir pastime._

  "And these splendid real people are the ones I'm going to belong to,"the girl told herself with a glance at the tall boy beside her who haddecided her fate. That thought was to glow in the very depths of her,like a firefly nestling at the heart of a rose, for as long as shelived.

  The even, pleasant tones of Colonel Conyers went on to give as one ofthe most hopeful features of aviation the readiness of the quite youngman of the present day to volunteer. No sooner was a fatality announcedthan for one airman who, cheerfully giving his life for the service ofhis country, had been put out of action, half a dozen promising youngfellows were eager to come forward and take his place.

  "Two of 'em again yesterday.... Two of his lieutenants, killed inYorkshire," whispered Paul Dampier, leaning to Gwenna.

  She missed the next sentence of Colonel Conyers, which concludedcheerily enough with the hard-worked but heartening reminder that whomthe Gods love die young....

  Then, with a broadening of that humorous smile and with a glint in hiseyes, he referred to "those other people (plump and well-to-do--andquite young people) who do, still, really appear to consider that thewhole of a man's duty to his country is to preserve his health for aslong as possible and then, having reached a ripe old age, to diecomfortably and respectably in his bed!----"

  There was a short ripple of laughter about the room; but after thisGwenna heard very little.

  Not only was she incapable of taking any more in, but this last sentencepulled her up with a sudden memory of what she had seen, yesterday.

  _That gun at the Aircraft Works. That pictured presentiment in her ownmind._

  And she heard again, through Colonel Conyers' pleasant voice, the queer,unexplained words that had haunted her:

  "_Fired at by both friend and foe._"

  She thought, "I must ask! I must say something to Paul about that----"