The Eye of Osiris Page 7

  CHAPTER VII

  JOHN BELLINGHAM'S WILL

  The task upon which I had embarked so light-heartedly, when consideredin cold blood, did certainly appear, as Miss Bellingham had said,rather appalling. The result of two and a half hours' pretty steadywork at an average speed of nearly a hundred words a minute, would takesome time to transcribe into longhand; and if the notes were to bedelivered punctually on the morrow, the sooner I got to work the better.

  Recognizing this truth, I lost no time, but, within five minutes of myarrival at the surgery, was seated at the writing-table with my copybefore me busily converting the sprawling, inexpressive characters intogood, legible round-hand.

  The occupation was by no means unpleasant, apart from the fact that itwas a labor of love; for the sentences, as I picked them up, werefragrant with the reminiscences of the gracious whisper in which theyhad first come to me. And then the matter itself was full of interest.I was gaining a fresh outlook on life, was crossing the threshold of anew world (which was her world); and so the occasional interruptionsfrom the patients, while they gave me intervals of enforced rest, werefar from welcome.

  The evening wore on without any sign from Nevill's Court, and I beganto fear that Mr. Bellingham's scruples had proved insurmountable. Not,I am afraid, that I was so much concerned for the copy of the will asfor the possibility of a visit, no matter howsoever brief, from my fairemployer; and when, on the stroke of half-past seven, the surgery doorflew open with startling abruptness, my fears were allayed and my hopesshattered simultaneously. For it was Miss Oman who stalked in, holdingout a blue foolscap envelope with a warlike air as if it were anultimatum.

  "I've brought you this from Mr. Bellingham," she said. "There's a noteinside."

  "May I read the note, Miss Oman?" I asked.

  "Bless the man!" she exclaimed. "What else would you do with it?Isn't that what it's brought for?"

  I supposed it was; and, thanking her for her gracious permission, Iglanced through the note--a few lines authorizing me to show the copyof the will to Dr. Thorndyke. When I looked up from the paper I foundher eyes fixed on me with an expression critical and ratherdisapproving.

  "You seem to be making yourself mighty agreeable in a certain quarter,"she remarked.

  "I make myself universally agreeable. It is my nature to."

  "Ha!" she snorted.

  "Don't you find me rather agreeable?" I asked.

  "Oily," said Miss Oman. And then with a sour smile at the opennotebooks, she remarked:

  "You've got some work to do now; quite a change for you."

  "A delightful change, Miss Oman. 'For Satan findeth'--but no doubt youare acquainted with the philosophical works of Dr. Watts?"

  "If you are referring to 'idle hands,'" she replied, "I'll give you abit of advice. Don't you keep that hand idle any longer than is reallynecessary. I have my suspicions about that splint--oh, you know what Imean," and before I had time to reply, she had taken advantage of theentrance of a couple of patients to whisk out of the surgery with theabruptness that had distinguished her arrival.

  The evening consultations were considered to be over by half-pasteight; at which time Adolphus was wont with exemplary punctuality toclose the outer door of the surgery. To-night he was not less promptthan usual; and having performed this, his last daily office, andturned down the surgery gas, he reported the fact and took hisdeparture.

  As his retreating footsteps died away and the slamming of the outerdoor announced his final disappearance, I sat up and stretched myself.The envelope containing the copy of the will lay on the table, and Iconsidered it thoughtfully. It ought to be conveyed to Thorndyke withas little delay as possible, and, as it certainly could not be trustedout of my hands, it ought to be conveyed by me.

  I looked at the notebooks. Nearly two hours' work had made aconsiderable impression on the matter that I had to transcribe, butstill, a great deal of the task yet remained to be done. However, Ireflected, I could put in a couple of hours or more before going to bedand there would be an hour or two to spare in the morning. Finally Ilocked the notebooks, open as they were, in the writing-table drawer,and slipping the envelope into my pocket, set out for the Temple.

  The soft chime of the Treasury clock was telling out, in confidentialtones, the third quarter as I rapped with my stick on the forbidding"oak" of my friends' chambers. There was no response, nor had Iperceived any gleam of light from the windows as I approached, and Iwas considering the advisability of trying the laboratory on the nextfloor, when footsteps on the stone stairs and familiar voices gladdenedmy ear.

  "Hallo, Berkeley!" said Thorndyke, "do we find you waiting like a Periat the gates of Paradise? Polton is upstairs, you know, tinkering atone of his inventions. If you ever find the nest empty, you had bettergo up and bang at the laboratory door. He's always there in theevenings."

  "I haven't been waiting long," said I, "and I was just thinking ofrousing him up when you came."

  "That was right," said Thorndyke, turning up the gas. "And what newsdo you bring? Do I see a blue envelope sticking out of your pocket?"

  "You do."

  "Is it a copy of the will?" he asked.

  I answered "yes," and added that I had full permission to show it tohim.

  "What did I tell you?" exclaimed Jervis. "Didn't I say that he wouldget the copy for us if it existed?"

  "We admit the excellence of your prognosis," said Thorndyke, "but thereis no need to be boastful. Have you read through the document,Berkeley?"

  "No, I haven't taken it out of the envelope."

  "Then it will be equally new to us all, and we shall see if it tallieswith your description."

  He placed three easy-chairs at a convenient distance from the light,and Jervis, watching him with a smile, remarked:

  "Now Thorndyke is going to enjoy himself. To him, a perfectlyunintelligible will is a thing of beauty and a joy for ever; especiallyif associated with some kind of recondite knavery."

  "I don't know," said I, "that this will is particularly unintelligible.The mischief seems to be that it is rather too intelligible. However,here it is," and I handed it over to Thorndyke.

  "I suppose that we can depend on this copy," said the latter, as hedrew out the document and glanced at it. "Oh, yes," he added, "I seeit is copied by Godfrey Bellingham, compared with the original andcertified correct. In that case I will get you to read it out slowly,Jervis, and I will make a rough copy for reference. Let us makeourselves comfortable and light our pipes before we begin."

  He provided himself with a writing-pad, and, when we had seatedourselves and got our pipes well alight, Jervis opened the document,and with a premonitory "hem!" commenced the reading.

  "In the name of God Amen. This is the last will and testament of meJohn Bellingham of number 141 Queen Square in the parish of St. GeorgeBloomsbury London in the county of Middlesex Gentleman made thistwenty-first day of September in the year of our Lord one thousandeight hundred and ninety-two.

  "1. I give and bequeath unto Arthur Jellicoe of number 184 New SquareLincoln's Inn London in the county of Middlesex Attorney-at-law thewhole of my collection of seals and scarabs and those in my cabinetsmarked A, B, and D together with the contents thereof and the sum oftwo thousand pounds sterling free of legacy duty.

  "Unto the trustees of the British Museum the residue of my collectionof antiquities.

  "Unto my cousin George Hurst of the Poplars Eltham in the county ofKent the sum of five thousand pounds free of legacy duty and unto mybrother Godfrey Bellingham or if he should die before the occurrence ofmy death unto his daughter Ruth Bellingham the residue of my estate andeffects real and personal subject to the conditions set forthhereinafter namely:

  "2. That my body shall be deposited with those of my ancestors in thechurchyard appertaining to the church and parish of St. George theMartyr or if that shall not be possible in some other churchyardcemetery burial ground church or chapel or other authorized place forthe recept
ion of the bodies of the dead situate within or appertainingto the parishes of St. Andrew above the Bars and St. George the Martyror St. George Bloomsbury and St. Giles in the Fields. But if theconditions in this clause be not carried out then

  "3. I give and devise the said residue of my estate and effects unto mycousin George Hurst aforesaid and I hereby revoke all wills andcodicils made by me at any time heretofore and I appoint ArthurJellicoe aforesaid to be the executor of this my will jointly with theprincipal beneficiary and residuary legatee that is to say with theaforesaid Godfrey Bellingham if the conditions set forth hereinbeforein clause 2 shall be duly carried out but with the aforesaid GeorgeHurst if the said conditions in the said clause 2 be not carried out.

  "JOHN BELLINGHAM.

  "Signed by the said testator John Bellingham in the presence of uspresent at the same time who at his request and in his presence and inthe presence of each other have subscribed our names as witnesses.

  "Frederick Wilton, 16 Medford Road, London, N., clerk.

  "James Barber, 32 Wadbury Crescent, London, S.W., clerk."

  "Well," said Jervis, laying down the document as Thorndyke detached thelast sheet from his writing-pad, "I have met with a good many idioticwills, but this one can give them all points. I don't see how it isever going to be administered. One of the two executors is a mereabstraction--a sort of algebraical problem with no answer."

  "I think that difficulty could be overcome," said Thorndyke.

  "I don't see how," retorted Jervis. "If the body is deposited in acertain place, A is executor; if it is somewhere else, B is theexecutor. But as you cannot produce the body, and no one has the leastidea where it is, it is impossible to prove either that it is or thatit is not in any specified place."

  "You are magnifying the difficulty, Jervis," said Thorndyke. "The bodymay, of course, be anywhere in the entire world, but the place where itis lying is either inside or outside the general boundary of those twoparishes. If it has been deposited within the boundary of those twoparishes, the fact must be ascertainable by examining the burialcertificakes issued since the date when the missing man was last seenalive and by consulting the registers of those specified places ofburial. I think that if no record can be found of any such intermentwithin the boundary of those two parishes, that fact will be taken bythe Court as proof that no such interment has taken place, and thattherefore the body must have been deposited somewhere else. Such adecision would constitute George Hurst the co-executor and residuarylegatee."

  "That is cheerful for your friends, Berkeley," Jervis remarked, "for wemay take it as pretty certain that the body has not been deposited inany of the places named."

  "Yes," I agreed gloomily, "I'm afraid there is very little doubt ofthat. But what an ass that fellow must have been to make such a to-doabout his beastly carcass! What the deuce could it have mattered tohim where it was dumped, when he had done with it?"

  Thorndyke chuckled softly. "Thus the irreverent youth of to-day," saidhe. "But yours is hardly a fair comment, Berkeley. Our training makesus materialists, and puts us a little out of sympathy with those inwhom primitive beliefs and emotions survive. A worthy priest who cameto look at our dissecting-room expressed surprise to me that thestudents, thus constantly in the presence of relics of mortality,should be able to think of anything but the resurrection and the lifehereafter. He was a bad psychologist. There is nothing so dead as adissecting-room 'subject'; and the contemplation of the human body inthe process of being quietly taken to pieces--being resolved into itsstructural units like a worn-out clock or an old engine in thescrapper's yard--is certainly not conducive to a vivid realization ofthe doctrine of the resurrection."

  "No; but this absurd anxiety to be buried in some particular place hasnothing to do with religious belief; it is merely silly sentiment."

  "It is sentiment, I admit," said Thorndyke, "but I wouldn't call itsilly. The feeling is so widespread in time and space that we mustlook on it with respect as something inherent in human nature.Think--as doubtless John Bellingham did--of the ancient Egyptians,whose chief aspiration was that of everlasting repose for the dead.See the trouble they took to achieve it. Think of the great Pyramid,or that of Amenhotep the Fourth with its labyrinth of false passagesand its sealed and hidden sepulchral chambers. Think of Jacob, borneafter death all those hundreds of weary miles in order that he mightsleep with his fathers and then remember Shakespeare and his solemnadjuration to posterity to let him rest undisturbed in his grave. No,Berkeley, it is not a silly sentiment. I am as indifferent as you asto what becomes of my body 'when I have done with it,' to use yourirreverent phrase; but I recognize the solicitude that some other mendisplay on the subject as a natural feeling that has to be takenseriously."

  "But even so," I said, "if this man had a hankering for a freeholdresidence in some particular bone-yard, he might have gone about thebusiness in a more reasonable way."

  "There I am entirely with you," Thorndyke replied. "It is the absurdway in which this provision is worded that not only creates all thetrouble but also makes the whole document so curiously significant inview of the testator's disappearance."

  "How significant?" Jervis demanded eagerly.

  "Let us consider the provisions of the will point by point," saidThorndyke; "and first note that the testator commanded the services ofa very capable lawyer."

  "But Mr. Jellicoe disapproved of the will," said I; "in fact, heprotested strongly against the form of it."

  "We will bear that in mind too," Thorndyke replied. "And now withreference to what we may call the contentious clauses: the first thingthat strikes us is their preposterous injustice. Godfrey's inheritanceis made conditional on a particular disposal of the testator's body.But this is a matter not necessarily under Godfrey's control. Thetestator might have been lost at sea, or killed in a fire or explosion,or have died abroad and been buried where his grave could not have beenidentified. There are numerous probable contingencies besides theimprobable one that has happened that might prevent the body from beingrecovered.

  "But even if the body had been recovered, there is another difficulty.The places of burial in the parishes have all been closed for manyyears. It would be impossible to reopen any of them without a specialfaculty, and I doubt whether such a faculty would be granted. Possiblycremation might meet the difficulty, but even that is doubtful; and, inany case, the matter would not be in the control of Godfrey Bellingham.Yet, if the required interment should prove impossible, he is to bedeprived of his legacy."

  "It is a monstrous and absurd injustice," I exclaimed.

  "It is," Thorndyke agreed; "but this is nothing to the absurdity thatcomes to light when we consider clauses two and three in detail.Observe that the testator presumably wished to be buried in a certainplace; also he wished his brother should benefit under the will. Letus take the first point and see how he has set about securing theaccomplishment of what he desired. Now if we read clauses two andthree carefully, we shall see that he has rendered it virtuallyimpossible that his wishes can be carried out. He desires to be buriedin a certain place and makes Godfrey responsible for his being soburied. But he gives Godfrey no power or authority to carry out theprovision, and places insuperable obstacles in his way. For untilGodfrey is an executor, he has no power or authority to carry out theprovision; and until the provisions are carried out, he does not becomean executor."

  "It is a preposterous muddle," exclaimed Jervis.

  "Yes, but that is not the worst of it," Thorndyke continued. "Themoment John Bellingham dies, his dead body has come into existence; andit is 'deposited,' for the time being, wherever he happens to havedied. But unless he should happen to have died in one of the places ofburial mentioned--which is in the highest degree unlikely--his bodywill be, for the time being, 'deposited' in some place other than thosespecified. In that case clause two is--for the time being--notcomplied with, and consequently George Hurst becomes, automatically,the co-executor.

  "But wi
ll George Hurst carry out the provisions of clause two?Probably not. Why should he? The will contains no instructions tothat effect. It throws the whole duty on Godfrey. On the other hand,if he should carry out clause two, what happens? He ceases to be anexecutor and he loses some seventy thousand pounds. We may be prettycertain that he will do nothing of the kind. So that, on consideringthe two clauses, we see that the wishes of the testator could only becarried out in the unlikely event of his dying in one of theburial-places mentioned, or his body being conveyed immediately afterdeath to a public mortuary in one of the said parishes. In any otherevent, it is virtually certain that he will be buried in some placeother than that which he desired, and that his brother will be leftabsolutely without provision or recognition."

  "John Bellingham could never have intended that," I said.

  "Clearly not," agreed Thorndyke; "the provisions of the will furnishinternal evidence that he did not. You note that he bequeathed fivethousand pounds to George Hurst, in the event of clause two beingcarried out; but he has made no bequest to his brother in the event ofits not being carried out. Obviously, he had not entertained thepossibility of this contingency at all. He assumed, as a matter ofcourse, that the conditions of clause two would be fulfilled, andregarded the conditions themselves as a mere formality."

  "But," Jervis objected, "Jellicoe must have seen the danger of amiscarriage and pointed it out to his client."

  "Exactly," said Thorndyke. "There is the mystery. We understand thathe objected strenuously, and that John Bellingham was obdurate. Now itis perfectly understandable that a man should adhere obstinately to themost stupid and perverse disposition of his property; but that a manshould persist in retaining a particular form of words after it hasbeen proved to him that the use of such form will almost certainlyresult in the defeat of his own wishes; that, I say, is a mystery thatcalls for very careful consideration."

  "If Jellicoe had been an interested party," said Jervis, "one wouldhave suspected him of lying low. But the form of clause two doesn'taffect him at all."

  "No," said Thorndyke; "the person who stands to profit by the muddle isGeorge Hurst. But we understand that he was unacquainted with theterms of the will, and there is certainly nothing to suggest that he isin any way responsible for it."

  "The practical question is," said I, "what is going to happen? and whatcan be done for the Bellinghams?"

  "The probability is," Thorndyke replied, "that the next move will bemade by Hurst. He is the party immediately interested. He willprobably apply to the Court for permission to presume death andadminister the will."

  "And what will the Court do?"

  Thorndyke smiled dryly. "Now you are asking a very pretty conundrum.The decisions of Courts depend on idiosyncrasies of temperament that noone can foresee. But one may say that a Court does not lightly grantpermission to presume death. There will be a rigorous inquiry--and adecidedly unpleasant one, I suspect--and the evidence will be reviewedby the judge with a strong predisposition to regard the testator asbeing still alive. On the other hand, the known facts point verydistinctly to the probability that he is dead; and, if the will wereless complicated and all the parties interested were unanimous insupporting the application, I don't see why it might not be granted.But it will clearly be to the interest of Godfrey to oppose theapplication, unless he can show that the conditions of clause two havebeen complied with--which it is virtually certain he cannot; and he maybe able to bring forward reasons for believing John to be still alive.But even if he is unable to do this, inasmuch as it is pretty clearthat he was intended to be the chief beneficiary, his opposition islikely to have considerable weight with the Court."

  "Oh, is it?" I exclaimed eagerly. "Then that accounts for a verypeculiar proceeding on the part of Hurst. I have stupidly forgotten totell you about it. He has been trying to come to a private agreementwith Godfrey Bellingham."

  "Indeed!" said Thorndyke. "What sort of agreement?"

  "His proposal was this: that Godfrey should support him and Jellicoe inan application to the Court for permission to presume death and toadminister the will, that if it was successful, Hurst should pay himfour hundred pounds a year for life: the arrangement to hold good inall eventualities."

  "By which he means?"

  "That if the body should be discovered at any future time, so that theconditions of clause two could be carried out, Hurst should stillretain the property and continue to pay Godfrey the four hundred a yearfor life."

  "Hey, ho!" exclaimed Thorndyke; "that is a queer proposal; a very queerproposal indeed."

  "Not to say fishy," added Jervis. "I don't fancy the Court would lookwith approval on that little arrangement."

  "The law does not look with much favor on any little arrangements thataim at getting behind the provisions of a will," Thorndyke replied;"though there would be nothing to complain of in this proposal if itwere not for the reference to 'all eventualities.' If a will ishopelessly impracticable, it is not unreasonable or improper for thevarious beneficiaries to make such private arrangements amongthemselves as may seem necessary to avoid useless litigation and delayin administering the will. If, for instance, Hurst had proposed to payfour hundred a year to Godfrey so long as the body remainedundiscovered on condition that, in the event of its discovery, Godfreyshould pay him a like sum for life, there would have been nothing tocomment upon. It would have been an ordinary sporting chance. But thereference to 'all eventualities' is an entirely different matter. Ofcourse, it may be mere greediness, but all the same it suggests somevery curious reflections."

  "Yes, it does," said Jervis. "I wonder if he has any reason to expectthat the body will be found? Of course it doesn't follow that he has.He may be merely taking the opportunity offered by the other man'spoverty to make sure of the bulk of the property whatever happens. Butit is uncommonly sharp practice, to say the least."

  "Do I understand that Godfrey declined the proposal?" Thorndyke asked.

  "Yes, he did, very emphatically; and I fancy the two gentlemenproceeded to exchange opinions on the circumstances of thedisappearance with more frankness than delicacy."

  "Ah," said Thorndyke, "that is a pity. If the case comes into Court,there is bound to be a good deal of unpleasant discussion and stillmore unpleasant comment in the newspapers. But if the partiesthemselves begin to express suspicions of one another there is notelling where the matter will end."

  "No, by Jove!" said Jervis. "If they begin flinging accusations ofmurder about, the fat will be in the fire with a vengeance. That waylies the Old Bailey."

  "We must try to prevent them from making an unnecessary scandal," saidThorndyke. "It may be that an exposure will be unavoidable, and thatmust be ascertained in advance. But to return to your question,Berkeley, as to what is to be done. Hurst will probably make some movepretty soon. Do you know if Jellicoe will act with him?"

  "No, he won't. He declines to take any steps without Godfrey'sassent--at least, that is what he says at present. His attitude is oneof correct neutrality."

  "That is satisfactory so far," said Thorndyke, "though he may alter histone when the case comes into Court. From what you said just now Igathered that Jellicoe would prefer to have the will administered andbe quit of the whole business; which is natural enough, especially ashe benefits under the will to the extent of two thousand pounds and avaluable collection. Consequently, we may fairly assume that, even ifhe maintains an apparent neutrality, his influence will be exerted infavor of Hurst rather than of Bellingham; from which it follows thatBellingham ought certainly to be properly advised, and, when the casegoes into Court, properly represented."

  "He can't afford either the one or the other," said I. "He's as pooras an insolvent church mouse and as proud as the devil. He wouldn'taccept professional aid that he couldn't pay for."

  "H'm," grunted Thorndyke, "that's awkward. But we can't allow the caseto go 'by default,' so to speak--to fail for the mere lack of technicalassistance. Besides, i
t is one of the most interesting cases that Ihave ever met with, and I am not going to see it bungled. He couldn'tobject to a little general advice in a friendly, informal way--_amicuscuriae_, as old Brodribb is so fond of saying; and there is nothing toprevent us from pushing forward the preliminary inquiries."

  "Of what nature would they be?"

  "Well, to begin with, we have to satisfy ourselves that the conditionsof clause two have not been complied with: that John Bellingham has notbeen buried within the parish boundaries mentioned. Of course he hasnot, but we must not take anything for granted. Then we have tosatisfy ourselves that he is not still alive and accessible. It isperfectly possible that he is, after all, and it is our business totrace him, if he is still in the land of the living. Jervis and I cancarry out these investigations without saying anything to Bellingham;my learned brother will look through the register of burials--notforgetting the cremations--in the metropolitan area, and I will takethe other matter in hand."

  "You really think that John Bellingham may still be alive?" said I.

  "Since his body has not been found, it is obviously a possibility. Ithink it in the highest degree improbable, but the improbable has to beinvestigated before it can be excluded."

  "It sounds a rather hopeless quest," I remarked. "How do you proposeto begin?"

  "I think of beginning at the British Museum. The people there may beable to throw some light on his movements. I know that there are someimportant excavations in progress at Heliopolis--in fact, the Directorof the Egyptian Department is out there at the present moment; andDoctor Norbury, who is taking his place temporarily, is an old friendof Bellingham's. I shall call on him and try to discover if there isanything that might have induced Bellingham suddenly to go abroad toHeliopolis, for instance. Also he may be able to tell me what it wasthat took the missing man to Paris on that last, rather mysteriousjourney. That might turn out to be an important clue. And meanwhile,Berkeley, you must endeavor tactfully to reconcile your friend to theidea of letting us give an eye to the case. Make it clear to him thatI am doing this entirely for the enlargement of my own knowledge."

  "But won't you have to be instructed by a solicitor?" I asked.

  "Yes, nominally; but only as a matter of etiquette. We shall do allthe actual work. Why do you ask?"

  "I was thinking of the solicitor's costs, and I was going to mentionthat I have a little money of my own----"

  "Then you keep it, my dear fellow. You'll want it when you go intopractice. There will be no difficulty about the solicitor; I shall askone of my friends to act nominally as a personal favor to me--Marchmontwould take the case for us, Jervis, I am sure."

  "Yes," said Jervis. "Or old Brodribb, if we put it to him _amicuscuria_."

  "It is excessively kind of both of you to take this benevolent interestin the case of my friends," I said; "and it is to be hoped that theywon't be foolishly proud and stiff-necked about it. It's rather theway with poor gentlefolk."

  "I'll tell you what!" exclaimed Jervis. "I have a most brilliant idea.You shall give us a little supper at your rooms and invite theBellinghams to meet us. Then you and I will attack the old gentleman,and Thorndyke shall exercise his persuasive powers on the lady. Thesechronic incurable old bachelors, you know, are quite irresistible."

  "You observe that my respected junior condemns me to lifelongcelibacy," Thorndyke remarked. "But," he added, "his suggestion isquite a good one. Of course, we mustn't put any sort of pressure onBellingham to employ us--for that is what it amounts to, even if weaccept no payment--but a friendly talk over the supper-table wouldenable us to put the matter delicately and yet convincingly."

  "Yes," said I, "I see that, and I like the idea immensely. But itwon't be possible for several days, because I've got a job that takesup all my spare time--and that I ought to be at work on now," I added,with a sudden qualm at the way in which I had forgotten the passage oftime in the interest of Thorndyke's analysis.

  My two friends looked at me inquiringly, and I felt it necessary toexplain about the injured hand and the Tell-el-Amarna tablets; which Iaccordingly did rather shyly and with a nervous eye upon Jervis. Theslow grin, however, for which I was watching, never came; on thecontrary, he not only heard me through quite gravely, but when I hadfinished said with some warmth, and using my old hospital pet name:

  "I'll say one thing for you, Polly; you're a good chum, and you alwayswere. I hope your Nevill's Court friends appreciate the fact."

  "They are far more appreciative than the occasion warrants," Ianswered. "But to return to this question: how will this day week suityou?"

  "It will suit me," Thorndyke answered, with a glance at his junior.

  "And me too," said the latter; "so, if it will do for the Bellinghams,we will consider it settled; but if they can't come, you must fixanother night."

  "Very well," I said, rising and knocking out my pipe. "I will issuethe invitation to-morrow. And now I must be off to have another slogat those notes."

  As I walked homeward I speculated cheerfully on the prospect ofentertaining my friends under my own (or rather Barnard's) roof, ifthey could be lured out of their eremitical retirement. The idea had,in fact, occurred to me already, but I had been deterred by thepeculiarities of Barnard's housekeeper. For Mrs. Gummer was one ofthose housewives who make up for an archaic simplicity of production bypreparations on the most portentous and alarming scale. But this timeI would not be deterred. If only the guests could be enticed into myhumble lair it would be easy to furnish the raw materials of the feastfrom outside; and the consideration of ways and means occupied mepleasantly until I found myself once more at my writing-table,confronted by my voluminous notes on the incidents of the North SyrianWar.