Tales of Mystery & Suspense: 25+ Thrillers in One Edition. E. Phillips OppenheimЧитать онлайн книгу.
will belong to the days of romance.”
“For a practical politician, Hebblethwaite,” Norgate pronounced, “you have some of the rottenest ideas I ever knew. You know perfectly well that if Germany attacked France, we are almost committed to chip in. We couldn’t sit still, could we, and see Calais and Boulogne, Dieppe and Ostend, fortified against us?”
“If Germany should attack France!” Hebblethwaite repeated. “If Prussia should send an expeditionary force to Cornwall, or the Siamese should declare themselves on the side of the Ulster men! We must keep in politics to possibilities that are reasonable.”
“Take another view of the same case, then,” Norgate continued. “Supposing Germany should violate Belgium’s independence?”
“You silly idiot!” Hebblethwaite exclaimed, as he took a long draught of his whisky and soda, lit a cigar, and leaned back in his chair, “the neutrality of Belgium is guaranteed by a treaty, actually signed by Germany!”
“Supposing she should break her treaty?” Norgate persisted. “I told you what I heard in the train the other night. It isn’t for nothing that that sort of work is going on.”
Hebblethwaite shook his head.
“You are incorrigible, Norgate! Germany is one of the Powers of Europe undoubtedly possessing a high sense of honour and rectitude of conduct. If any nation possesses a national conscience, and an appreciation of national ethics, they do. Germany would be less likely than any nation in the world to break a treaty.”
“Hebblethwaite,” Norgate declared solemnly, “if you didn’t understand the temperament and character of your constituents better than you do the German temperament and character, you would never have set your foot across the threshold of Westminster. The fact of it is you’re a domestic politician of the very highest order, but as regards foreign affairs and the greater side of international politics, well, all I can say is you’ve as little grasp of them as a local mayor might have.”
“Look here, young fellow,” Hebblethwaite protested, “do you know that you are talking to a Cabinet Minister?”
“To a very possible Prime Minister,” Norgate replied, “but I am going to tell you what I think, all the same. I’m fed up with you all. I bring you some certain and sure information, proving conclusively that Germany is maintaining an extraordinary system of espionage over here, and you tell me to mind my own business. I tell you, Hebblethwaite, you and your Party are thundering good legislators, but you’ll ruin the country before you’ve finished. I’ve had enough. It seems to me we thoroughly deserve the shaking up we’re going to get. I am going to turn German spy myself and work for the other side.”
“You do, if there’s anything in it,” Hebblethwaite retorted, with a grin. “I promise we won’t arrest you. You shall hop around the country at your own sweet will, preach Teutonic doctrines, and pave the way for the coming of the conquerors. You’ll have to keep away from our arsenals and our flying places, because our Service men are so prejudiced. Short of that you can do what you like.”
Norgate finished his cigar in silence. Then he threw the end into the fireplace, finished his whisky and soda, and rose.
“Hebblethwaite,” he said, “this is the second time you’ve treated me like this. I shall give you another chance. There’s just one way I may be of use, and I am going to take it on. If I get into trouble about it, it will be your fault, but next time I come and talk with you, you’ll have to listen to me if I shove the words down your throat. Good night!”
“Good night, Norgate,” Hebblethwaite replied pleasantly. “What you want is a week or two’s change somewhere, to get this anti-Teuton fever out of your veins. I think we’ll send you to Tokyo and let you have a turn with the geishas in the cherry groves.”
“I wouldn’t go out for your Government, anyway,” Norgate declared. “I’ve given you fair warning. I am going in on the other side. I’m fed up with the England you fellows represent.”
“Nice breezy sort of chap you are for a pal!” Hebblethwaite grumbled. “Well, get along with you, then. Come and look me up when you’re in a better humour.”
“I shall probably find you in a worse one,” Norgate retorted. “Good night!”
* * * * *
It was one o’clock when Norgate let himself into his rooms. To his surprise, the electric lights were burning in his sitting-room. He entered a little abruptly and stopped short upon the threshold. A slim figure in dark travelling clothes, with veil pushed back, was lying curled up on his sofa. She stirred a little at his coming, opened her eyes, and looked at him.
CHAPTER XVI
Throughout those weeks and months of tangled, lurid sensations, of amazing happenings which were yet to come, Norgate never once forgot that illuminative rush of fierce yet sweet feelings which suddenly thrilled his pulses. He understood in that moment the intolerable depression of the last few days. He realised the absolute advent of the one experience hitherto missing from his life. The very intensity of his feelings kept him silent, kept him unresponsive to her impetuous but unspoken welcome. Her arms dropped to her side, her lips for a moment quivered. Her voice, notwithstanding her efforts to control it, shook a little. She was no longer the brilliant young Court beauty of Vienna. She was a tired and disappointed girl.
“You are surprised—I should not have come here! It was such a foolish impulse.”
She caught up her gloves feverishly, but Norgate’s moment of stupefaction had passed. He clasped her hands.
“Forgive me,” he begged. “It is really you—Anna!”
His words were almost incoherent, but his tone was convincing. Her fears passed away.
“You don’t wonder that I was a little surprised, do you?” he exclaimed. “You were not only the last person whom I was thinking of, but you were certainly the last person whom I expected to see in London or to welcome here.”
“But why?” she asked. “I told you that I came often to this country.”
“I remember,” Norgate admitted. “Yet I never ventured to hope—”
“Of course I should not have come here,” she interrupted. “It was absurd of me, and at such an hour! And yet I am staying only a few hundred yards away. The temptation to-night was irresistible. I felt as one sometimes does in this queer, enormous city—lonely. I telephoned, and your servant, who answered me, said that you were expected back at any moment. Then I came myself.”
“You cannot imagine that I am not glad to see you,” he said earnestly.
“I want to believe that you are glad,” she answered. “I have been restless ever since you left. Tell me at once, what did they say to you here?”
“I am practically shelved,” he told her bitterly. “In twelve months’ time, perhaps, I may be offered something in America or Asia—countries where diplomacy languishes. In a word, your mighty autocrat has spoken the word, and I am sacrificed.”
She moved towards the window.
“I am stifled!” she exclaimed. “Open it wide, please.”
He threw it open. They looked out eastwards. The roar of the night was passing. Here and there were great black spaces. On the Thames a sky-sign or two remained. The blue, opalescent glare from the Gaiety dome still shone. The curving lights which spanned the bridges and fringed the Embankment still glittered. The air, even here, high up as they were on the seventh story of the building, seemed heavy and lifeless.
“There is a storm coming,” she said. “I have felt it for days.”
She stood looking out, pale, her large eyes