[Written with a lot of assistance from a partner.]
The solitary figure in the R.N. Barracks smoking-room rose, stretched
himself, and lounged across to a table to change his evening paper for
a later edition.
"Hullo! old sportsman. Where's everybody?"
The "sportsman"--a precise-looking surgeon who wore a wound-stripe on
his cuff--looked round from the litter of newspapers he had been
turning over.
"Why, lumme! if it ain't James the Giant-Killer. Here, waiter! Hi! Two
sherry--quick! What the deuce brings you here, James?"
"Just down from the North,--joining the _Great Harry_ to-morrow.
Where's every one? Is there an air-raid on, and were the cellars too
full for you, my hack-saw expert?"
"They were not. They're damn near empty, worse luck. But the Depôt
Boxing is on to-night, and I'd be there too, only it's my turn for
guard. It's no good your going now, you old pug; they'll finish in
half an hour, and it's a mile away."
"Oh! Well, I'm tired, anyway. I want dinner and then a bed. Of all
filthy games, give me a war-time train journey. I've found a cabin
here, and I found a bath, and I won't quarrel with any one for an hour
or two."
"Then, you may as well keep the cabin while you've got it, because the
_Great Harry_ is having her mountings altered, and won't commission
for a week yet."
James Rainer swivelled round in his chair to take the sherry glass
from the waiter. "Here's luck, Doc. I thought she commissioned
to-morrow, though."
"Gun trials to-day, and the experts didn't like her. Not much wrong, I
believe, but she's delayed a week. Here's long life and a----" The
surgeon paused and put his glass down. James Rainer stared at him
somewhat truculently.
"James, my boy, I was forgetting. Your little flapper's here. Ah! I
see you know all about that."
"Doc.--you're an ass; I wasn't thinking of that at all."
The surgeon leaned back in his arm-chair and prepared to enjoy himself.
"Ah! James, me old friend--pot companion of me youth! What a
chicken-butcher you are! If only you hadn't been so young; two years
ago, was it not? How the years do roll on, to be sure. And what a
little romance it was--the blue-eyed flag-lieutenant and the admiral's
daughter--_always_ the first two down to breakfast. And we used to
hear, too, in the Yard, of the little expeditions when you were
detailed to take her back to school and--_No!_ hands off! Would you
touch me with a cheild in me arrms? Let me go and I'll tell you all
about her--and look out for my drink, you great ruffian."
"Never mind your drink." James released the surgeon's head from under
his arm and sat down again. "Is she down here?"
"She is, James--and she's a devilish pretty girl now, too. If it
wasn't that we're most of us crocks here we'd----"
A signalman entered and glanced inquiringly round the room.
"Who is it for, signalman? Anybody hurt?"
"No, sir." The man looked at his signal-pad again. "Send despatch
officer to Admiralty House instantly."
"Help!" The surgeon turned to Rainer. "There's only one available
to-night, and he's at the Boxing. It's probably only stuff to be
brought back here. What about----? But I forgot, you're tired, aren't
you? They'd better telephone."
Rainer picked up his cap. "I'm not supposed to join till to-morrow
night, and I'm going even if it means another filthy railway journey.
'Night, Doc!"
The door banged decisively, and the surgeon chuckled at some deep jest
of his own.
* * * * *
Vice-Admiral Sir Charles Woodcote grunted ferociously as a knock
sounded at his study door.
"Come in!" he barked. "Who is it?"
He looked up to see a tall clean-shaven lieutenant enter--a
broad-shouldered athletic figure with a heavy jaw and twinkling grey
eyes.
"Eh--Rainer, how are you, my boy? I was expecting the despatch
officer."
"Yes, sir; but as I was at a loose end at the barracks I came myself.
I'm joining the----"
"The _Great Harry_--yes, so you are. Well, it's a long time since I
saw you. You must come and dine with us before you sail. Now, you'd
better get off with these. I'm going to send you in the car." He
pressed a bell and a seaman entered. "The big car at once, _and_ the
headlights. Tell Thompson to hurry up."
"Please, sir, Thompson's hurt his wrist, sir. Starting the----"
"_Confound_ Thompson--he's always doing it. _Why_ does he do it? Eh?
Eh? You can't tell me? Tell Miss Ruth to get the other car round at
once, d'you hear?"
"Now, Rainer," said the Admiral, "here's the despatch. Take it to
Shortholme aerodrome, and bring a receipt back, d'you hear? and keep
that girl of mine out of mischief. _Come_ in!"
The door opened, and a slim leather-coated figure appeared. Rainer
tried to keep his eyes on the Admiral, but failed dismally, his
efforts resulting in a distressing squint. His flapper of two years
ago was now a calm, self-possessed, and extremely pretty girl, who, in
her rôle of amateur chauffeur, did not seem even to be aware of his
presence in the room.
"The car is ready, father," she said, and vanished, leaving the
startled Rainer gaping at a vision of neat black gaiters beneath her
short skirt.
"Well, you'd better get on then," said the Admiral. "But, by the way,
tell Forrest--Wing-Commander Forrest--to keep an eye on his machines.
There are three German prisoners loose near here--two pilots and a
mechanic from their Flying Corps. They may try and steal a machine to
get away on. Tell him to lock up his hangars, or whatever he calls the
things, and--all right--get on--get on. What are you waiting for?"
Rainer, nothing loath, took his dismissal. He hurried across the hall,
cramming the despatch, in its stiff parchment envelope, into the
inside pocket of his overcoat as he went. The car was standing purring
at the door, a leakage of light from the side-lamps shining on a
demure little face behind the screen, and showing him also that the
back near-side door was standing invitingly open.
"You little darling," he thought, "as if you didn't _know_ what you are
in for." He firmly closed the back door, sat down in the vacant front
seat, and reached over to pull in a rug from behind him. As he did so
the clutch was gently engaged and the car slid quietly down the drive.
"It's jolly nice your driving me like this, Miss Woodcote," he said.
"Do you drive many despatch officers?"
"Why, yes, Mr Rainer; Thompson and I take turns at it."
"Are you an official chauffeur, then?"
"I have been for some time now."
"Always here?"
"No, I was at Portsmouth a bit."
"Indeed? How far is it to Shortcombe?"
"About twenty miles, by this road."
"You didn't seem surprised to see me in your father's study."
The car dodged round a tram and began a louder purr as it felt the
open road ahead.
"Well, Hickson told me you had come."
"Oh! he did, did he? Did Hickson tell you anything else?"
"Yes; and I don't think it's quite nice for an officer to bribe a
butler to write and tell him things about his master's daughter."
"Well, I'm damned. Hickson is a scoundrel. I told him he wasn't to."
"Well, he did tell. I made him. And I think it was very wrong of you."
"But I'd always looked after you before, and it's only natural I
should like to hear you weren't getting into trouble after my eagle
eye had left you."
"Never mind about eagle eyes. It was very rude, and it mustn't go on."
"It won't. I promise you."
Miss Woodcote, a little piqued at such easy acquiescence, drove in
silence for a few minutes, then, unable to restrain her curiosity,
fell into the trap.
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say so. It was a silly thing to do."
"Yes, it was, perhaps. But the necessity for it has gone now, so I
don't mind."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I'm going to marry you now you're grown up, so----"
"Will you please stop talking nonsense?"
"Will you marry me?"
"No."
"Well, that's one proposal over. I think a girl can't be very distant
with a man who's proposed to her, can she? It implies a certain
intimacy, so to speak...?"
"No."
"It means, you see, a secret shared together, and that should...."
A stony silence.
"Of course--it's not the only secret we've had together. There was the
matter of the fire in the kitchen, when we were making toffee and
upset the paraffin...."
Still silence.
"You know two years ago I was going to marry you if I could, and I
knew that you----"
"What did you know?"
"Well, you knew I'd never let you marry any one else."
"Mr Rainer--will you please be quiet? I don't want to speak to you."
"Damn," said Rainer, leaning back sulkily.
"And don't swear, please."
Rainer sat up again. "Haven't I got cause for swearing? We've come
ten miles and I wanted to kiss you before we'd done twenty. You're
wasting time, you know."
"I don't want to kiss any one, and certainly not you."
Rainer's confidence began to evaporate slightly. This was not quite
the flapper he had known. He sighed heavily, and, leaning back again,
turned slightly away from her, wishing that he had eyes in the back of
his head.
Miss Woodcote, secure in the knowledge that he was not so favoured by
nature, had glanced three times in his direction before the trouble
started. The car whirled round a corner, its speed regulated more by
the state of the driver's temper than by good judgment, and the
headlights shone full on a heavy farm cart which lay right across the
road. There was a grinding of brakes, a lurch and skid, and Rainer had
just time to throw a protecting arm across Ruth as the collision
occurred. The screen went to pieces as the headlights went out, and
the frightened Rainer and the extremely angry chauffeuse stared at
each other in the dim glow of the side-lamps.
"Are you hurt? Are you all right? _Ruth_...."
"The _beasts_, the _beasts_. I've _never_ hit anything before. _Oh!_
Just look at all the glass."
The tone of her voice reassured the trembling lover beside her, and
rising to his feet, he began to shed his overcoat.
"Cheer up," he said. "There mayn't be as much damage as you think.
We'll have a look at it. Hullo!"
Two dark figures showed by the near side of the bonnet, and a harsh
voice rasped out: "Out of the car and put your hands up. Quickly, now,
or you'll get hurt."
Rainer obeyed part of the order with startling alacrity. This was a
straightforward and simple problem to deal with compared with the
attempt to instil sense into an unreasonable, albeit delightful, girl.
His overcoat dropped to the floor-boards and he landed on the road at
the same moment. Two to one in a bad light was very fair odds, he
felt, and he only regretted that he had not got his gloves on, as he
foresaw broken knuckles for himself by the morning.
He shuffled forward a few feet and went in for his left-hand
adversary. The left feint was only a concession to orthodoxy, but the
right hook which followed it was delivered with a grunt and twist that
meant business. He sprang back at once behind the side-lamp, perfectly
satisfied that the recipient of the blow was going to be a sleeping
partner for some minutes at least. The second man came forward a
little doubtfully, swearing in excellent German. Rainer heard a cry
from Ruth and turned half round. A third opponent had appeared from
behind the car, and a club or heavy stick was whirling over his head.
For an instant Rainer hesitated, then tried to jump in under the
weapon. He felt as he did so that it was too late, but he arrived
safely on his man's chest, clutching for the upraised arm. The left
hand seized something it had not expected to find--a girl's hand in a
leather glove. The club-man roared with rage, swung round and struck
savagely behind him. Rainer had a glimpse of a white face going down,
and a little moan of pain from the ground sent him berserk. An arm
came around his throat from behind, and he knew that what he had to do
must be done quickly. He tripped the club-man and hurled himself
sideways and back. The three figures, swaying and straining together,
struck the car and came down. Rainer felt the arm round his neck slip
and change to a hand. The owner of the hand instantly began to regret
this, as Rainer's teeth were not only in good condition but had a grip
like a bull-dog's. The club-man began to scream, and not without
reason. To be held against a car-wheel by a twelve-stone
rough-and-tumble expert who doesn't mind being killed if only he
leaves his mark on you, is a bad position for any man to be in.
Rainer's hands were on his throat, the knuckles working and straining
upwards for the carotids, and Rainer's legs were quietly but surely
engaged in breaking his left ankle.
Then the man with the prisoned hand began to talk rapidly, and Rainer
threw his reserve strength into his hands. He knew what was coming.
His first opponent had awakened. He felt the man behind him wriggle
his body clear, and then came a smashing concussion. With a feeling of
regret that he had not been allowed another ten seconds' grip he sank
into oblivion.
Two men rose from beside him and leaned panting and gasping against
the car. One of them subsided and sat on the running board, his breath
rasping and tearing in his throat. The man who had felt Rainer's punch
dropped the club, took off a side-lamp and made a hasty examination of
the front of the car. Returning, he spoke in short abrupt sentences to
the others, and assisted the seated man to his feet with a kick. The
three stood and listened for a moment, then broke through the hedge
and vanished into the night.
* * * * *
It seemed to Rainer in his dreams that his ship was coaling. He could
hear the crash and rattle and roar of the winches, and there was a
gritty taste in his mouth as if he was working in the collier's hold. He
spat out a mouthful of dust and lifted his head. No--they weren't
coaling. He was lying against a very hard and nobbly car, and he had a
devil of a headache. He considered the situation a moment, and then woke
up suddenly with a cold feeling of fear. He rose and steadied himself by
a wing, then looked round. Yes, there she was, a few feet away, and at
the sight of her his strength came back. He knelt down and lifted her
shoulders. She moved a little and moaned. With trembling fingers he felt
the top of her head and found that the cap was gone, and that there was
a suspiciously sticky lump on her forehead. He felt for his
handkerchief, but remembered that it was in his overcoat. Lifting the
girl in his arms he tottered to the car and sat down in the front seat,
while he searched the coat pockets. He found the handkerchief, and
noted, as a side-issue, that the despatches were still there. Unscrewing
the filling cap of the petrol tank he plunged the handkerchief in, but
turned his head at a voice at his elbow.
"Jim! What are you doing?"
"Thank God! Ruth, lie still. I'm going to put some petrol on your
head."
"_Ooo!_" The lady had straightened up in her seat. "My poor head--it
does hurt. Jim! if you put petrol on my head I'll _never_ marry you."
"But, darling--I----"
"Don't do it. Have you got the despatches?"
"Yes. I don't think they were after them. Ruth, d'you know that chap
would have brained me if you hadn't tackled him?"
"Why did you kiss me just before I woke up?"
"I didn't. I swear I didn't."
"You did. I know you did."
"I--I--Ruth, were you angry?"
"Don't you think you might see if you can move the car, or do
something useful?"
"Ruth, were you? Ruth, I say----"
"Jim, there's a car coming. All right, be quick. That will do.
_There_, you old brute--now go and meet that car. Give me your hanky."
Rainer reluctantly dodged round the farm cart, holding a side-lamp in
his hand. The headache was forgotten, and the world seemed a
remarkably pleasant place in spite of bruises and stiff joints. The
car pulled up and a group of figures came towards him. "Hullo," said
one, "what's all this?"
Rainer recognised the speaker. "That you Deane?" he replied. "Three
escaped Huns have attacked us. They've gone now. I was bringing
despatches for the Wing-Commander, but they didn't get them. Miss
Woodcote's in the car. She's smashed--the car, I mean--and she's had a
blow on the head from a club."
"Lord! Those are our men. They walked out to one of our machines at
dusk just after it landed, but they ran when they were challenged.
We're after them now."
"Well, they can't get far. One's groggy and one's lame. What about
Miss Woodcote? She'll have to be sent home. She's got a nasty crack on
the head."
"We'll send her to Admiralty House in this lorry. Give me the
despatches and you go back with her. I'm going to spread my men out
and hunt the fields. They must have been after your car."
Rainer walked back as the air-mechanics began to move the farm cart
out of the road. "Ruth," he said, "we're going back on this lorry.
I've handed the despatches over, and I'm going to take you home."
"Only ten miles, Jim, and you expected forty, didn't you?"
"I did, but I hoped to have kissed you all the last twenty of them,
you little angel."
"Well, Jim, it looks a very dark lorry, doesn't it? But as for kissing
me in the other car----Well, you may have decided on the last twenty
miles, but I had arranged for the last hundred yards up the drive.
Why? You silly old thing. I can't do two things properly at once, and
I made up my mind when we started I was not going to be kissed when I
was driving. Carry me across carefully, Jim, dear. I'm feeling rather
fragile now...."