The Vanishing Man Page 7

  CHAPTER VII

  JOHN BELLINGHAM'S WILL

  The task upon which I had embarked so lightheartedly, when considered incold blood, did certainly appear, as Miss Bellingham had said, ratherappalling. The result of two and a half hours' pretty steady work at anaverage speed of nearly a hundred words a minute, would take some timeto transcribe into longhand; and if the notes were to be deliveredpunctually on the morrow, the sooner I got to work the better.

  Recognising 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 labour of love; for the sentences, as I picked them up, werefragrant with reminiscences of the gracious whisper in which they hadfirst come to me. And then the matter itself was full of interest. I wasgaining a fresh outlook on life, was crossing the threshold of a newworld (which was _her_ world); and so the occasional interruptions frompatients, while they gave me intervals of enforced rest, were far fromwelcome.

  The evening wore on without any sign from Nevill's Court, and I began tofear that Mr. Bellingham's scruples had proved insurmountable. Not, I amafraid, that I was so much concerned for the copy of the will as forthe 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'tthat what I brought it for?"

  I supposed it was; and, thanking her for her gracious permission, Iglanced through the note--a few lines authorising me to show the copy ofthe will to Dr. Thorndyke. When I looked up from the paper I found hereyes fixed on me with an expression critical and rather disapproving.

  "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 opennote-books, 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 Doctor 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-past eight;at which time Adolphus was wont, with exemplary punctuality, to closethe outer door of the surgery. To-night he was not less prompt thanusual; and having performed this, his last daily office, and turned downthe surgery gas, he reported the fact and took his departure.

  As his retreating footsteps died away and the slamming of the outer doorannounced his final disappearance, I sat up and stretched myself. Theenvelope containing the copy of the will lay on the table, and Iconsidered it thoughtfully. It ought to be conveyed to Thorndyke with aslittle delay as possible, and, as it certainly could not be trusted outof my hands, it ought to be conveyed by me.

  I looked at the note-books. 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 more before going to bed andthere would be an hour or two to spare in the morning. Finally I lockedthe note-books, open as they were, in the writing-table drawer, andslipping 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 wrapped 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 I wasconsidering the advisability of trying the laboratory on the next floor,when footsteps on the stone stairs and familiar voices gladdened my ear.

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

  "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 news doyou 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 would getthe 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, andJervis, 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 the envelope to Thorndyke.

  "I suppose that we can depend on this copy," said the latter, as he drewout the document and glanced at it. "Oh, yes," he added, "I see it iscopied by Godfrey Bellingham, compared with the original and certifiedcorrect. In that case I will get you to read it out slowly, Jervis, andI will make a rough copy to keep for reference. Let us make ourselvescomfortable 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, andwith a premonitory "hem!" commenced the reading.

  "In the name of God Amen. This is the last will and testament of me JohnBellingham of number 141 Queen Square in the parish of St. GeorgeBloomsbury London in the county of Middlesex Gentleman made this twentyfirst day of September in the year of our Lord one thousand eighthundred 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 my cabinets markedB, C, and D together with the contents thereof and the sum of twothousand 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 of Kentthe sum of five thousand pounds free of legacy duty and unto my brotherGodfrey Bellingham or if he should die before the occurrence of my deathunto his daughter Ruth Bellingham the residue of my estate and effectsreal and personal subject to the conditions set forth hereinafternamely:

  "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 churchyard,cemetery, burial ground, church, chapel or other authorised place forthe reception of the bod
ies 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 and codicilsmade by me at any time heretofore and I appoint Arthur Jellicoeaforesaid to be the executor of this my will jointly with the principalbeneficiary and residuary legatee that is to say with the aforesaidGodfrey Bellingham if the conditions set forth hereinbefore in clause 2shall be duly carried out but with the aforesaid George Hurst if thesaid 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 Barker, 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 is evergoing 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 the 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 that itis 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 these twoparishes. If it has been deposited within the boundary of those twoparishes, the fact must be ascertainable by examining the burialcertificates 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 elsewhere. Such a decisionwould constitute George Hurst the co-executor and residuary legatee."

  "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 the fellow must have been to make such a to-doabout his beastly carcass? What the deuce could it have mattered to himwhere 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 makes usmaterialists, and puts us a little out of sympathy with those in whomprimitive beliefs and emotions survive. A worthy priest who came to lookat our dissecting-room expressed surprise to me that students, thusconstantly in the presence of relics of mortality, should be able tothink of anything but the resurrection and the life hereafter. He was abad psychologist. There is nothing so dead as a dissecting-room'subject'; and the contemplation of the human body in the process ofbeing quietly taken to pieces--being resolved into its structural unitslike a worn-out clock or an old engine in the Mr. Rapper's yard--iscertainly not conducive to a vivid realisation of the doctrine of theresurrection."

  "No; but this absurd anxiety to be buried in some particular place hasnothing to do with religious belief; it is mere 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 must lookon it with respect as something inherent in human nature. Think--asdoubtless John Bellingham did--of the ancient Egyptians, whose chiefaspiration was that of everlasting repose for the dead. See the troublethey took to achieve it. Think of the Great Pyramid, or that ofAmenemhat the Fourth with its labyrinth of false passages and its sealedand hidden sepulchral chamber. Think of Jacob, borne after death allthose hundreds of weary miles in order that he might sleep with hisfathers, and then remember Shakespeare and his solemn adjuration toposterity to let him rest undisturbed in his grave. No, Berkeley, it isnot a silly sentiment. I am as indifferent as you as to what becomes ofmy body 'when I have done with it,' to use your irreverent phrase; but Irecognise the solicitude that some other men display on the subject as anatural feeling that has to be taken seriously."

  "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 absurd wayin which this provision is worded that not only creates all the troublebut also makes the whole document so curiously significant in view ofthe 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 of avery 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. Butthis is a matter not necessarily under Godfrey's control. The testatormight have been lost at sea, or killed in a fire or explosion, or havedied abroad and been buried where his grave could not be identified.There are numerous probable contingencies besides the improbable onethat has happened, that might prevent the body from being recovered.

  "But even if the body had been recovered, there is another difficulty.The places of burial in the parishes named 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. Observethat the testator presumably wished to be buried in a certain place;also he wished that his brother should benefit under the will. Let ustake the first point and see how he has set about securing theaccomplishment of what he desired. Now, if we read clauses two and threecarefully, we shall see that he has rendered it virtually impossiblethat his wishes can be carried out. He desires to be buried in a certainplace and makes Godfrey responsible for his being so buried. But hegives Godfrey no power or authority to carry out the provision, andplaces insuperable obstacles in his way. For until Godfrey is anexecutor, he has no power or authority to carry out the provisions: anduntil the provisions are carried out, he does not become an executor."

  "It is a preposterous muddle," exclaimed Jervis.

  "Yes, but that is not the worst of it," Thorndyke continued. "The momentJohn Bellingham dies, his dead body has come into existence; and it is'deposited' for the time being, wherever he happens to have died. Butunless he should happen to have died in one of the places of burialmentioned--which is in the highest degree unlikely--his body will be,for the time being, 'deposited' in some place other than thosespecified. In that case clause two is--for the time being--not compliedwith, and consequently George Hurst becomes, automatically, theco-executor.

  "But will George Hurst carry out the provisions of c
lause two? Probablynot. Why should he? The will contains no instructions to that effect. Itthrows the whole duty on Godfrey. On the other hand, if he should carryout clause two, what happens? He ceases to be an executor and he loses alegacy of some seventy thousand pounds. We may be pretty certain that hewill do nothing of the kind. So that, on considering the two clauses,we see that the wishes of the testator could only be carried out in theunlikely event of his dying in one of the burial-places mentioned, orhis body being conveyed immediately after death to a public mortuary inone of the said parishes. In any other event, it is virtually certainthat he will be buried in some place other than that which he desired,and that his brother will be left absolutely without provision orrecognition."

  "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 that heobjected strenuously, and that John Bellingham was obdurate. Now it isperfectly 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 has beenproved to him that the use of such form will almost certainly result inthe defeat of his own wishes; that, I say, is a mystery that calls forvery careful consideration."

  "If Jellicoe had been an interested party," said Jervis, "one would havesuspected him of lying low. But the form of clause two doesn't affecthim at all."

  "No," said Thorndyke; "the person who stands to profit by the muddle isGeorge Hurst. But we understand that he was unacquainted with the termsof the will, and there is certainly nothing to suggest that he is in anyway 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 will probablyapply to the Court for permission to presume death and administer thewill."

  "And what will the Court do?"

  Thorndyke smiled drily. "Now you are asking a very pretty conundrum. Thedecisions of Courts depend on idiosyncrasies of temperament that no onecan 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 interested parties 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 that he can not; andhe may be able to bring forward reasons for believing John to be stillalive. But even if he is unable to do this, inasmuch as it is prettyclear that he was intended to be the chief beneficiary, his oppositionis likely 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, and that, if it was successful, Hurst should payhim four 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 still retainthe property and continue to pay Godfrey the four hundred a year forlife."

  "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 favour 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 among themselvesas may seem necessary to avoid useless litigation and delay inadministering the will. If, for instance, Hurst had proposed to pay fourhundred a year to Godfrey so long as the body remained undiscovered oncondition that, in the event of its discovery, Godfrey should pay him alike sum for life, there would have been nothing to comment upon. Itwould have been an ordinary sporting chance. But the reference to 'alleventualities' is an entirely different matter. Of course, it may bemere greediness, but all the same, it suggests some very curiousreflections."

  "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. Hemay be merely taking the opportunity offered by the other man's povertyto make sure of the bulk of the property whatever happens. But it isuncommonly sharp practice, to say the least."

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

  "Yes, he did, very emphatically; and I fancy that the two gentlemenproceeded to exchange opinions on the circumstances of the disappearancewith 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 still moreunpleasant comment in the newspapers. But if the parties themselvesbegin to express suspicions of one another there is no telling where thematter 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 and bequit of the whole business; which is natural enough, especially as hebenefits under the will to the extent of two thousand pounds and avaluable collection. Consequently, we may fairly assume that, even if hemaintains an apparent neutrality, his influence will be exerted infavour 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 poor asan insolvent church mouse and as proud as the devil. He wouldn't acceptprofessional 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, it is one of the most interesting cases that I haveever met with,
and I am not going to see it bungled. He couldn't objectto a little general advice in a friendly, informal way--_amicus curiae_,as old Brodribb is so fond of saying; and there is nothing to prevent usfrom 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 to satisfyourselves that he is not still alive and accessible. It is perfectlypossible that he is, after all, and it is our business to trace him, ifhe is still in the land of the living. Jervis and I can carry out theseinvestigations without saying anything to Bellingham; my learned brotherwill look through the register of burials--not forgetting thecremations--in the metropolitan area, and I will take the other matterin 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 like a rather hopeless quest," I remarked. "How do youpropose to 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 friend ofJohn 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 endeavour tactfully to reconcile your friend to theidea of letting us give an eye to the case. Make it clear to him that Iam doing this entirely for the enlargement of my own knowledge."

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

  "Yes, of course, nominally; but only as a matter of etiquette. We shalldo all the 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 keep it, my dear fellow. You'll want it when you go into practice.There will be no difficulty about the solicitor; I shall ask one of myfriends to act nominally as a personal favour to me--Marchmont wouldtake the case for us, Jervis, I am sure."

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

  "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 the waywith 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 and incurable old bachelors, you know, are quite irresistible."

  "You observe that my respected junior condemns me to lifelong celibacy,"Thorndyke remarked. "But," he added, "his suggestion is quite a goodone. Of course, we mustn't put any sort of pressure on Bellingham toemploy us--for that is what it amounts to, even if we accept nopayment--but a friendly talk over the supper-table would enable us toput the matter delicately and yet convincingly."

  "Yes," said I, "I see that, and I like the idea immensely. But it won'tbe possible for several days, because I've got a job that takes up allmy spare time--and that I ought to be at work on now," I added, with asudden qualm at the way in which I had forgotten the passage of time inthe 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," I answered."But to return to this supper 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 fix anothernight."

  "Very well," I said, rising and knocking out my pipe, "I will issue theinvitation to-morrow. And now I must be off to have another slog atthose notes."

  As I walked homewards I speculated cheerfully on the prospect ofentertaining my friends under my own (or rather Barnard's) roof, if theycould be lured out of their eremitical retirement. The idea had, infact, occurred to me already, but I had been deterred by thepeculiarities of Barnard's housekeeper. For Mrs. Gummer was one of thosehousewives who make up for an archaic simplicity of production bypreparations on the most portentous and alarming scale. But this time Iwould 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 incident of the North SyrianWar.