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A People's Man, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Chapter 35 |
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_ CHAPTER XXXV Selingman was once more entirely his old self. He staggered into the room with a tin of biscuits under one arm, and three bottles of hock under the other, all of which he deposited noisily upon the round table in the middle of the room. "I am the prince of caterers," he declared. "I surpass myself. Come out of the shadows, you dreamer. There is work to be done, food to be eaten, wine to be drunk." From his left-hand pocket he produced three candles, which he placed at intervals along the mantelpiece and lit. Then for the first time he saw Julia. "Ah," he cried, "our inspiration! Congratulate yourself, dear Miss Julia. After all, you are going to dine or sup, or whatever meal you may choose to call it. Behold!" From his other pocket he produced two great jars of potted meat, a jar of jam, a handful of miscellaneous knives and forks, and a corkscrew. "I have found an intelligent person here," he confided to them. "He has shown me the way to the wine cellar. Only the landlord and he are permitted to fetch wine. They fear a raid. Niersteiner, of a reasonable vintage." "I will fetch Aaron," Julia said as she left the room. "The girl worships you, and you're a beast to her," Selingman exclaimed, his eyes fixed upon the door through which she had vanished. "A man, indeed! A creature of wood and sawdust! Listen!" His hand flashed out, his hand which grasped still the corkscrew. "Listen, you man from the clouds," he continued. "I shall rob you of her. I adore her. To-day she may think me merely fat and eccentric. Don't rely upon that. I have the gift when I choose. I can tell fairy tales, I can creep a little way into her mind and fill her brain with delicate fancies, build images there and destroy them, play softly upon the keynote of her emotions, until one day she will wake up and what will have happened? She will be mine!" He banged the table with the bottle of wine he was holding. Then, with great care and accuracy, he drew the cork. "Your health!" he cried, raising his glass. "Ah, no! I have not sipped the wine. I change the toast. To Julia!" Maraton rose to his feet, and turned his back upon the gloomy darkness which brooded over the city. He took the glass of wine which Selingman was holding out and leaned towards him earnestly. "My friend," he said, "it seems strange to me that we speak of these things at such an hour. Yet let me tell you something. I don't know why I want to tell you, but I do. I am not, perhaps, quite what you think me. Only, the night you and I went north together, the gates of that world which you speak of so easily were closed behind me." "It was the other woman," Selingman exclaimed. "It was the other woman," Maraton echoed. Selingman set down the bottle upon the table. Two great tears rolled down from his blue eyes. He held out both his hands and gripped Maraton's. "My friend," he said, "now indeed I love you! We are twin souls. You, too, are human as you are wonderful. You see what an old woman I am. This sentiment--oh, it will be the end of me! But tell me--I must know. It was because you went north that it was ended?" Maraton nodded slowly. "I chose the opposite camp," he answered. "What could I do?" "Nature," Selingman declared, brandishing a great silk handkerchief, "is the queerest mistress who ever played pranks with us. Here, in the same camp, dwells a divinity, and you--you must peer down into the lower world. . . . Never mind, potted meat and hock are good. Julia," he added, turning his head at the sound of the opening door, "to genius in adversity all gentle familiarities are permitted. I grant myself the privilege of your Christian name. Come and grace our feast. I have found food and wine. I am your self-appointed caterer. There is no butter, but that is simply one of those pleasant tests for us, a test of will and fortitude. All my life until to-night I have loved butter. From henceforth--until we can get it again--I detest it. Let us eat, drink and be merry. Where is Aaron?" "He went out into the streets," Julia replied. "He will be back presently." Aaron came in a few minutes later, struggling with the weight of the parcels he was carrying. He laid them down upon the sideboard, and turned towards Maraton with an air of triumph. "I've been there, sir," he announced. "I've got the letters, your private dispatch box, and a lot of papers we needed. It's only the outside walls of the house that are charred. The fire was put out almost at once. And I've seen Ernshaw." Maraton's eyes were lit with pleasure. "You're a fine fellow, Aaron," he commended. "I've got my bicycle, too," Aaron continued. "I can get half over London, if necessary, while you stay here." "Tell me about Ernshaw?" Maraton begged quickly. "He's loyal--they all are," Aaron cried. "Oh, you should hear him talk about Peter Dale and Graveling, and that lot! They're spread up north now, all of them, trying to kill the strike. And the men won't move anywhere. His own miners wouldn't listen to Dale. Mr. Foley sent him up to Newcastle in his motor-car. They played a garden hose on him and burned an effigy of himself, dressed in old woman's clothes. Mr. Foley's had the railway men to Downing Street twice, but they've never wavered. Ernshaw is splendid. There are seven of them, and Ernshaw's own words were that they've made up their minds that grass could grow in the tracks and hell fires scorch up the land before they'd go back to slavery. They're for you, sir, body and soul. They won't give in." "Thank God!" Maraton muttered. "What about the mob?" "Loafers and wastrels," Aaron exclaimed indignantly, "dirty parasites of humanity, thieves; not an honest worker amongst them! They're the sort who shouted themselves hoarse on Mafeking night and hid in their holes when the war drums were calling. The authorities got a hundred police from somewhere, and they crumbled away like rats running for their holes. Ernshaw asks you not to go back to Russell Square because of the difficulty of getting at you, but this was his message to you, sir, when I told him of your arrival. He begged me to tell you that they were the scum of the earth; that from Newcastle to the Thames the men who stand idle to-day wait in faith and trust for your word and yours only. He will be here before long." Selingman nodded ponderously. His mouth was very full, but he did not delay his speech. "You have brought a splendid message, young man," he pronounced. "Sit down and eat with us. Exercise your imagination but a little and you will indeed believe that you have been bidden to a feast of Lucullus. Has any one, I wonder, ever appreciated the marvellous and yet subtle sympathy which can exist between potted meat and biscuits--especially when washed down with hock? Join us, my young friend Aaron. Abandon yourself with us to the pleasure of the table. We will discuss any subject upon the earth--except butter! Miss Julia, do you know where I shall go when I leave here? No? I go to seek chocolates and flowers for you." She laughed gaily. "Chocolates and flowers," she repeated, "at ten o'clock at night! And for me, too!" "And why not for you?" Selingman demanded, almost indignantly. "You are like all enthusiasts of your sex. You are too intense, you concentrate too much. You have lived in a cold and austere atmosphere. You have waited a long time for the hand which is to lead you into the sunshine." She laughed at him once more, yet perhaps this time a little wistfully. "Very well," she promised, "I will reform. I will eat all the chocolates you can bring me, and I will sleep with your flowers at my bedside. There! Am I improving?" Selingman rose to his feet. He drained his glass of wine and lit one of his long black cigars by the flame of the candle. "Dear Julia," he said, "you have spoken. I start on the quest of my life." _ |
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