Part 19 (1/2)

On the other hand, Captain Rames did not; and the contrast between the two men bent her to consider whether, after all, she had not been wrong in her condemnation of his new career. She was in the mood to admit it; and when the meeting broke up and the crowd was pouring through the doors into the street, and those upon the platform were descending its steps, she found herself alone for a second on the rostrum with Harry Rames.

”Perhaps I was wrong,” she said. ”I remember what you told me of Mr.

Smale. A vivid gift of phrase--he thought that necessary. You have it.”

”On the platform--yes. But the platform's not the House,” said Rames.

”Smale told me that too. I have yet to see whether I shall carry the House.”

”Yet those last words,” said Cynthia--”about the city and the continuity of its life and your pride to have a little share in it.

Oh, that was finely done.”

And upon Rames's face there came a grin.

”Yes, I thought that would fetch 'em,” he said.

Cynthia stepped back. Once again it occurred to Rames, as it had done on the night of their first meeting at the Admiralty, that just so would she look if he struck her a blow.

”Then--then--the city is still a polling-booth,” she stammered.

”Yes,” said Rames.

The hero newly perched upon his pediment tumbled off again.

”You used what I said to you because you just thought it would go down.”

Rames did not deny it. He remained silent.

”I remember,” she continued, ”it was no doubt a foolish thing I said.

But even when I said it, you were thinking this is the sort of thing that will take.”

That she was humiliated, her voice and her face clearly proved. Yet again Rames did not contradict her. Again he was silent. For there was nothing to be said.

”You do not allow me many illusions about you,” Cynthia said gently, and she began to turn away.

But now he arrested her.

”I don't mean to,” he said quickly; and by the reply he undid some portion of the harm he had done himself in her eyes.

CHAPTER XIV

COLONEL CHALLONER'S MEMORY

It had been arranged that Mr. Benoliel's small party should take supper with Harry Rames at his hotel. As they stood waiting at the foot of the platform the agent came to them from the outer doors.

”The way's clear now,” he said. ”I think you can go.”

They pa.s.sed through the empty hall, Cynthia first at Harry Rames's side, and in that order they came out upon the steps. A fine rain was falling, but the crowd had not dispersed. The great light over the door showed the climbing street thronged. Coat collars were turned up, hats were pressed down; and so as Rames and Cynthia came out they saw in the glare beneath the rain just a ma.s.s of swaying, jostling black things, round black things moving indecisively this way and that like some close-packed herd of blind animals. Just for a moment the illusion lasted. Then Rames was seen and of a sudden the heads were thrown back, the hats shaken high, and all those black round things became the white faces of living men, their eyes s.h.i.+ning in the light, their voices shouting in acclamation.