Part 20 (1/2)

”There is nothing,” said Rendel, looking at her, ”that I would not sacrifice to you--my career, my ambitions, anything you asked for.”

”I am glad,” she said, ”that you like me so much, but I don't want you to make sacrifices,” and she spoke in all unconsciousness of the number of small sacrifices, of an unheroic aspect perhaps, that Rendel was daily called upon to make for her sake.

At this moment Thacker came in with the morning papers, which he laid on the table at Rendel's elbow.

”Now then you are happy,” said Rachel lightly. ”Now you can bury yourself in the papers and not listen to anything I say.”

”I wonder if there is anything about Stoke Newton and old Crawley's resignation,” said Rendel, quite prepared to follow her advice. ”I don't suppose he takes a very jovial view of life just now, poor old boy. Oh, how I should hate to be on the shelf!”

”I don't think you are likely to be, for the present,” said Rachel.

And then Rendel, pus.h.i.+ng his chair a little away from the table, opened the papers wide, and began scanning them one after another, with the mild and pleasurable excitement of the man who feels confidently abreast of circ.u.mstances. Then, as he took up the _Arbiter_, his eye suddenly fell upon a heading that took his breath away. What was this? He dropped the paper with a cry.

”What is it, Frank?” said Rachel startled.

”Good Heavens! what have they done that for?” he said, springing to his feet in uncontrollable excitement.

”Done what?” said Rachel.

”Why, they have announced--they have put in something that Lord Stamfordham----” He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the paper again and looked at it eagerly. ”It is incredible! and the map too, the very map, at this stage! Well, upon my word, he has made a mistake this time, I do believe.” And he still gazed at the paper as though trying to fathom the whole hearing of what he saw.

At this moment the door opened, and Thacker came in.

”Sir William wished me to ask you for some foolscap paper, ma'am, please,” he said, ”with lines on it.”

”Foolscap paper? What is he doing?” said Rachel anxiously.

”He is writing, ma'am,” said Thacker. ”He seems to be doing accounts.”

”Oh, I wish he wouldn't!” Rachel said. ”I must go and see. I'll bring the foolscap paper myself, Thacker. Frank, there is some in your study, isn't there?”

”What?” said Rendel, who, still absorbed in what he had just seen, had only dimly heard their colloquy.

”Some foolscap paper,” she repeated. ”There is some in your study?”

”Yes, yes, in my writing-table,” he said absently.

Rachel went quickly out of the room. At that moment the hall door bell rang violently. Rendel started and went to the window. In the phase of acute tension in which he found himself, every unexpected sound carried an untold significance, but he was not prepared for what this one betokened: Lord Stamfordham in the street, dismounting from his horse.

Stamfordham was accustomed to ride every morning from eight till nine, alone and unattended. Thacker hurried out to hold the horse. Rendel followed him and met Stamfordham on the doorstep. He led the way quickly across the hall into his study and shut the door. They both felt instinctively that greetings were superfluous.

”Have you seen the _Arbiter_?” Stamfordham said.

”Yes,” said Rendel, looking him straight in the face with eager expectation.

”So have I,” said Stamfordham, ”at the German Emba.s.sy. I had not seen it before leaving home, but I saw a poster at the corner, and I went straight to Bergowitz to ask him what it meant; he is as much in the dark as I am.”

”In the dark!” said Rendel, looking at him amazed. ”What! but--was it not you who published it?”

”_I_ publish it?” said Stamfordham. ”Do you mean to say you thought I had?”