The Long Trick Part 33

Cecily shot him a swift glance and looked away again.

"He smiled a good deal," she continued musingly. "And Uncle Bill's awfully thrilled about something. He was up all night fussing in the laboratory, and when he came down to breakfast this morning he hit his egg on the head as if it had been a German and said, '_Got_ it!'"

The King's Messenger nodded sapiently, as if these unusual occurrences held no mystery for him. Silence fell upon the room again: from a clock tower in Westminster came the clear notes of a bell striking the hour. The sound seemed to remind the visitor of something.

"I was told to come here," he announced suddenly, as if answering a question that the silence held.

The white-clad figure stiffened.

"_Told_ to!" echoed Cecily. "May I ask----"

"They told me at the Admiralty," explained Simple Simon, the King's Messenger, "I was to call for despatches."

"Oh..." said Cecily, nodding her fair head, "I _see_. I confess I was a little puzzled ... but that explains ... and it was War-time, and you couldn't very well refuse, could you?" She surveyed him mercilessly.

"They shoot people who refuse to obey orders in War-time, don't they--however distasteful or unpleasant the orders may be? You just had to come, in fact, or be shot ... was that it?"

The victim winced.

"You don't understand," he began miserably. "There's a very important----"

Cecily interrupted with a little laugh.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear! Tony, if you're going to begin to talk about important matters"--the white hands made a little gesture in the gloom--"why, of course, I couldn't understand. And I'm quite sure they wouldn't ask you to do anything that wasn't really important.... Oh, Tony, you must have had a lot of _terribly_ important things to do during the last two years: so many that you haven't had time to look up your old friends, or--or answer their silly letters even ... at least,"

added Cecily, "so I've heard from people who--knew you well once upon a time."

The King's Messenger rose to his feet and began to walk slowly to and fro with his hands behind his back. Cecily watched the halting step of the man who three years before had been the hero of the Naval Rugby-football world, and found his outline grow suddenly misty.

"Listen," he said quietly. "I've got to tell you something. It's something I'd have rather not had to talk about.... And I don't know whether you'll altogether understand, because you're a woman, and women----"

"I know," said Cecily quickly. "They're just a pack of silly geese, aren't they, Tony? They've no intuition or sympathy or power of understanding.... They only want to be left in peace and not bothered or have their feelings harrowed.... They're incapable of sharing another's disappointment or sorrow, or of easing a burden or--or anything...."

The speaker broke off and crossed swiftly to the vacated chair. For a moment she searched for something among the cushions and, having found it, stepped to the window and stood with her back to the visitor, apparently contemplating the blue dusk deepening into night.

The King's Messenger stopped and stared at her graceful form outlined against the window. Then he took one step towards her and halted again. Cecily continued to be absorbed in the row of lights gleaming like fireflies beyond the Park.

"Cecily," he began, and let his mind return to an earlier train of thought. "Supposing that I--that you were going for a walk with me."

"We'll suppose it," said Cecily. "I've an idea it has happened before.

But we'll suppose it actually happened again."

"I walk very slowly nowadays," added the King's Messenger.

Cecily amended the hypothesis.

"We'll suppose we were going for a slow walk," she said.

"I can't walk very far, either."

"A short, slow walk."

"And supposing," continued the theorist in sepulchral tones, with his hands still behind his back, "supposing some fellow came along and--well, and said 'Yah! Boo!' to you--or--or something like that.

Cecily--would you despise me if I couldn't--er--run after him and kick him?"

Cecily turned swiftly. "Yah! Boo!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "_Yah_! _Boo_!

Oh, Tony, how thrilling! I'd say 'Pip! Pip!'"

She, too, had her hands behind her, and stood with her head a little on one side regarding him. Her face was in shadow, and he saw none of the tender mirth in her eyes. "Would you let me say 'Pip! Pip!' to a perfect stranger, Tony?--and me walking-out with you!"

"_Let_ you!" he said with a sort of laugh like a gasp and stepped towards her.

For an instant Fear peeped out of the two windows of her soul, and she swiftly raised her hands as if to fend off the inevitable. But the King's Messenger was swifter still and had them imprisoned, crumpled in his somewhere between their galloping hearts.

"My dear," he said, "my dear, I love you!"

Her head dropped back in the shelter of his arm, and she searched his face with eyes like a Madonna on the Judgment Seat.

"I know," she said softly, and surrendered lips and soul as a child gives itself to Sleep.

Through the closed door came the m.u.f.fled sound of voices in the hall.

Uncle Bill was talking in tones that were, for him, unusually loud.

Someone fumbling at the handle of the door appeared to be experiencing some difficulty in opening it.

Cecily, released, turned to the window like a white flash and buried her hot face among the roses. The King's Messenger remained where he stood, motionless.

Slowly the door opened, letting in the murmur of voices. Uncle Bill had his hand on the k.n.o.b and stood with his shoulder turned to the interior of the room, apparently listening to something one of his guests was saying.

In the lighted hall beyond, d'Auvergne caught a glimpse of Naval uniforms and white shirt-fronts.

"... It ought to go a little way towards 'confounding their knavish tricks,'" a man's deep voice was saying.

"Yes," said Sir William. He turned as he spoke and took in the occupants of the room with a swift, keen glance. "'And to guide our feet into the way of peace!'"