Norgate shrugged his shoulders.
“Well,” he observed, “we’ve
agreed, haven’t we, that a little lesson would
be good for England? It might as well come now
as at any other time.”
“It will not come yet,” Mr. Selingman
went on, “but I will tell you what is going
to happen.”
His voice had fallen almost to a whisper, his manner
had become portentous.
“Within a week or two,” he said, “Germany
and Austria will have declared war upon Russia and
Servia and France. Italy will join the allies—that
you yourself know. As for England, her time has
not come yet. We shall keep her neutral.
All the recent information which we have collected
makes it clear that she is not in a position to fight,
even if she wished to. Nevertheless, to make
a certainty of it, we shall offer her great inducements.
We shall be ready to deal with her when Calais, Ostend,
Boulogne, and Havre are held by our armies. Now
listen, do you flinch?”
The two men were still standing in the middle of the
room. Selingman’s brows were lowered, his
eyes were keen and hard-set. He had gripped Norgate
by the left shoulder and held him with his face to
the light.
“Speak up,” he insisted. “It
is now or never, if you mean to go through with this.
You’re not funking it, eh?”
“Not in the least,” Norgate declared.
For the space of almost thirty seconds Selingman did
not remove his gaze. All the time his hand was
like a vice upon Norgate’s shoulder.
“Very well,” he said at last, “you
represent rather a gamble on my part, but I am not
afraid of the throw. Come back to our bridge now.
It was just a moment’s impulse—I saw
something in your face. You realise, I suppose—but
there, I won’t threaten you. Come back and
we’ll drink a mixed vermouth together. The
next few days are going to be rather a strain.”
Norgate’s expression was almost one of stupefaction.
He looked at the slim young man who had entered his
sitting-room a little diffidently and for a moment
he was speechless.
“Well, I’m hanged!” he murmured
at last. “Hardy, you astonish me!”
“The clothes are a perfect fit, sir,”
the man observed, “and I think that we are exactly
the same height.”
Norgate took a cigarette from an open box, tapped
it against the table and lit it. He was fascinated,
however, by the appearance of the man who stood respectfully
in the background.
“Talk about clothes making the man!” he
exclaimed. “Why, Hardy, do you realise
your possibilities? You could go into my club
and dine, order jewels from my jeweller. I am
not at all sure that you couldn’t take my place
at a dinner-party.”
The man smiled deprecatingly.
“Not quite that, I am sure, sir. If I may
be allowed to say so, though, when you were good enough
to give me the blue serge suit a short time ago, and
a few of your old straw hats, two or three gentlemen
stopped me under the impression that I was you.
I should not have mentioned it, sir, but for the present
circumstances.”
