Part 17 (1/2)

”Yes--yes,” I said. ”Go on.”

”Well, as you had planted the theory in me, it began to bear fruit. I began to watch them. I continued to watch them. I did nothing but watch them.”

The sudden lowering of his voice in this confession--as if it had represented a sort of darkening of his consciousness--again amused me.

”You too? How then we've been occupied! For I, you see, have watched--or had, until I found you just now with Mrs. Server--everyone, everything _but_ you.”

”Oh, I've watched _you_,” said Ford Obert as if he had then perhaps after all the advantage of me. ”I admit that I made you out for myself to be back on the scent; for I thought I made you out baffled.”

To learn whether I really had been was, I saw, what he would most have liked; but I also saw that he had, as to this, a scruple about asking me. What I most saw, however, was that to tell him I should have to understand. ”What scent do you allude to?”

He smiled as if I might have fancied I could fence. ”Why, the pursuit of the identification that's none of our business--the identification of her lover.”

”Ah, it's as to that,” I instantly replied, ”you've judged me baffled?

I'm afraid,” I almost as quickly added, ”that I must admit I _have_ been. Luckily, at all events, it _is_ none of our business.”

”Yes,” said my friend, amused on his side, ”nothing's our business that we can't find out. I saw you hadn't found him. And what,” Obert continued, ”does he matter now?”

It took but a moment to place me for seeing that my companion's conviction on this point was a conviction decidedly to respect; and even that amount of hesitation was but the result of my wondering how he had reached it. ”What, indeed?” I promptly replied. ”But how did you see I had failed?”

”By seeing that I myself had. For I've been looking too. He isn't here,”

said Ford Obert.

Delighted as I was that he should believe it, I was yet struck by the complacency of his confidence, which connected itself again with my observation of their so recent colloquy. ”Oh, for you to be so sure, has Mrs. Server squared you?”

”_Is_ he here?” he for all answer to this insistently asked.

I faltered but an instant. ”No; he isn't here. It's no thanks to one's scruples, but perhaps it's lucky for one's manners. I speak at least for mine. If you've watched,” I pursued, ”you've doubtless sufficiently seen what has already become of mine. He isn't here, at all events,” I repeated, ”and we must do without his ident.i.ty. What, in fact, are we showing each other,” I asked, ”but that we _have_ done without it?”

”_I_ have!” my friend declared with supreme frankness and with something of the note, as I was obliged to recognise, of my own constructive joy.

”I've done perfectly without it.”

I saw in fact that he had, and it struck me really as wonderful. But I controlled the expression of my wonder. ”So that if you spoke therefore just now of watching them----”

”I meant of course”--he took it straight up--”watching the Brissendens.

And naturally, above all,” he as quickly subjoined, ”the wife.”

I was now full of concurrence. ”Ah, naturally, above all, the wife.”

So far as was required it encouraged him. ”A woman's lover doesn't matter--doesn't matter at least to anyone but himself, doesn't matter to you or to me or to her--when once she has given him up.”

It made me, this testimony of his observation, show, in spite of my having by this time so counted on it, something of the vivacity of my emotion. ”She _has_ given him up?”

But the surprise with which he looked round put me back on my guard. ”Of what else then are we talking?”

”Of nothing else, of course,” I stammered. ”But the way you see----!” I found my refuge in the gasp of my admiration.

”I do see. But”--he _would_ come back to that--”only through your having seen first. You gave me the pieces. I've but put them together. You gave me the Brissendens--bound hand and foot; and I've but made them, in that sorry state, pull me through. I've blown on my torch, in other words, till, flaring and smoking, it has guided me, through a magnificent chiaroscuro of colour and shadow, out into the light of day.”

I was really dazzled by his image, for it represented his personal work.