COLONEL CHALLONER PROVES OBDURATE
A week after Mrs. Foster's visit Challoner drove over to Hazlehurst in
the afternoon and on reaching the lodge found her setting out with
several of her guests to meet Foster and his friends on their return
from shooting. Refusing to allow her to turn back with him, he
accompanied the party, and some time later Mrs. Keith, who had remained
at home, went out on the terrace. Following it to the end of the house
near which the stables stood, she saw a man leading in a horse which
she thought she knew.
"Isn't that bay Colonel Challoner's?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," said the groom. "The gardener brought it up from the
lodge. The Colonel went on with Mrs. Foster to the long wood."
Mrs. Keith turned away and sat down on a terrace seat feeling
disturbed. Mrs. Chudleigh was with the others and would no doubt
detach Challoner from them, as she generally succeeded in doing when
Mrs. Keith was unable to prevent her. Now there was nobody to come to
his rescue, he would be at the woman's mercy, and though she admitted
that this was perhaps an exaggerated view to take, Mrs. Keith felt that
he was threatened. It was, however, a long walk to the wood and she
was old enough to shrink from it; besides there was a possibility that
she was after all suspecting Mrs. Chudleigh without much cause, but she
made up her mind to follow. By walking fast she might overtake the
party before much harm was done. Entering the house, she put on thick
boots and then set out with all the speed she was capable of.
In the meanwhile Mrs. Foster's party had split up, and Mrs. Chudleigh
and Challoner were left together. The Colonel did not regret this,
because he had found her an entertaining companion. Though it was a
winter day, the weather was mild and the road almost dry, and after a
time they reached a birch wood which skirted its eastern side. The
rays of the low sun struck in among the trees, forcing up the silvery
trunks and fragile twigs which looked like lacework against a
background of blue shadow. Thick hollies and rhododendrons planted
near the wayside kept off the light wind, and dead leaves and withered
fern made patches of glowing colour. When they came to a gate leading
to a drive through the wood Mrs. Chudleigh stopped.
"The others have vanished; I can't even hear them," she said. "I
wonder which way they have gone."
Challoner listened, but could only distinguish the murmur of the wind
among the birches and the rustle of fallen leaves. The rest of the
party were obviously some distance ahead.
"The road's the longer, but as the field-path's often wet I can't tell
which they've taken," he said.
"The field-path for me," Mrs. Chudleigh replied.
"I'm afraid I'm not very fond of walking."
They entered the wood and presently reached a stile, on the other side
of which a boggy patch cut off the path from a strip of sticky
ploughing. Mrs. Chudleigh regarded it with disapproval.
"I don't know if Mrs. Foster could jump over that, but I can't," she
said.
She sat down upon the stile and Challoner leaned against the fence.
"There'll be time to meet them coming back before they reach the spot
where the path rejoins the road. After all, I see no reason to
complain of being left behind."
Mrs. Chudleigh smiled at him. "That's very nice of you, and while the
sunshine lasts it's pleasant here. I often think an English wood, with
the varied colours of the trunks and mosses showing, is most beautiful
on a bright winter day. Besides, I wanted to talk to you. There's a
favour I must ask."
"You can consider it granted if it's in my power."
"Don't be rash," she warned him. "You may be surprised when you hear
what it is, but I want you to see the matter in its proper light and
not to be actuated merely by a wish to please me."
"It's a wish I should like to gratify," Challoner assured her. "But
please go on."
Mrs. Chudleigh hesitated. Beneath his formal, old-fashioned courtesy
which she had found attractive she recognized a stern
conscientiousness. He must, if possible, be convinced that the course
she meant to urge was the best, though she had the means of putting
pressure on him if this proved needful.
"Well," she said, "there is a rather important post vacant in a West
African colony and you have influence. Mr. Greythorpe is an intimate
friend of yours and may consult you about the matter. He will, no
doubt, have a part in making the selection."
"I have heard about it," Challoner admitted guardedly.
Instead of answering, Mrs. Chudleigh started and clenched her hand, for
she was looking towards the road and could see a woman's figure through
an opening between the trees. She recognized the dress, which was
behind the current fashion, and the new-comer's carriage, which somehow
suggested determination, further indicated Mrs. Keith. Mrs. Chudleigh
was glad that Challoner stood where he could not see the road, but she
watched in keen suspense when Mrs. Keith reached the gate and stopped
as if undecided which way to go. If she chose the field-path, Mrs.
Chudleigh's opportunity would be gone, and it might be some time before
she found another, while her business brooked no delay. It was,
however, fortunate that she and her companion could not be plainly seen
from the road because there were some bushes in the way and a tall
thicket close by formed a background against which their figures would
not show. After a few moments Mrs. Keith moved on and Mrs. Chudleigh,
who was conscious of deep relief, saw that Challoner was waiting for
her to speak.
"It is essential that the right man should be chosen," she resumed.
"Our political and commercial interests demand this. There is a chance
of acquiring a strip of territory which would open a way to the trade
of the interior, but it must be done with tact as well as boldness. We
need a man with firmness and judgment who can secure us this opening
without giving the French definite ground for offence, and he must be
experienced in West African affairs. The post could not be entrusted
safely to a newcomer."
"Ah!" said Challoner; "as you seem so well informed, I presume you have
somebody to suggest."
She could learn nothing from his manner, which had changed and grown
formal.
"I know a man who has all the necessary qualifications. He is resolute
and enterprising; a soldier who has distinguished himself in action and
a clever administrator. What is more, the direction of affairs has
been largely left in his hands for some time."
"You mean Captain Sedgwick?" Challoner's tone was discouragingly
reserved. "May I ask what leads you to plead his cause?"
"First of all because I think he is the best man."
"A good reason," said the Colonel. "Still I'm inclined to think you
have a better one."
Mrs. Chudleigh hesitated while the colour crept into her face; then she
said simply, "I love him."
Challoner bowed. "I am honoured by your confidence, but if he were
chosen, it would separate you. You could not stand the climate of
Western Africa."
"I know," she said eagerly. "These appointments, however, are not for
long and we are willing to defer our marriage if it will give him an
opportunity of showing what he can do."
There was silence for the next minute. Challoner was somewhat touched
by her frank appeal, and though he saw that she was sufficiently
ambitious to subordinate her affection to her desire for her lover's
advancement, it was an ambition he could sympathize with. The woman
was willing to make a sacrifice. For all that, he felt that he could
not conscientiously help her.
"I wish you had asked for something else," he said. "I'm sorry this
favour is not in my power."
"You can know nothing against Captain Sedgwick," the answered sharply.
"Certainly not; the trouble is that personally I know nothing in his
favour."
"But I have assured you that there is nobody so suitable."
"That is a different matter. Your opinion is very natural and does you
credit; I will not suggest that your affection for him may lead you to
rate Captain Sedgwick's qualifications too highly. No doubt, he is an
excellent officer, but these appointments are not made on a lady's
recommendation."
"Are they not?" Mrs. Chudleigh asked with a touch of irony. "Remember
that I have lived at Simla and know that influence often goes a long
way I have seen it at work."
Challoner frowned. "So have I, but it is a thing I have always set my
face against. The man for a post of this kind must be chosen on his
merits."
"How are they to be ascertained, unless you take the opinion of those
who know him best?"
"It is often difficult, but the safest test is his work as it is known
to his official superiors. Unless he is judged by this, there is a
risk of partiality and unfairness. Social influence is a dangerous
thing and deplorable mistakes have been made when it has been allowed
to have effect."
"Then you will do nothing?"
Her tone was harsh and Challoner looked at her in surprise.
"It is possible that Greythorpe may consult me, though I do not know
what weight my opinion would have with him. If the information he lays
before me seems to indicate that Captain Sedgwick is the best man, I
should suggest his appointment."
Mrs. Chudleigh appeared to acquiesce and said nothing for some minutes.
She was sorry that Challoner had not proved more amenable, since his
stubbornness forced her into a distasteful line of action, but she
could not spare him when her lover's future was at stake.
"After all," she said, "a soldier's official record is sometimes as
little to be trusted as you think his friends' estimate of him ought to
be. I have an instance in view; two men I know took part in an action
on the Indian frontier, and one gained a reputation for courage, and
the other obloquy. As it happened, neither was deserved."
"On the Indian frontier?" Challoner glanced at her sharply.
"Yes; some time since. A night attack was made upon a hill which
formed the key to the position of a small British force. An order to
retreat was wrongly given."
"Ah!" said Challoner; "I have good reason to remember that affair. May
I ask what you know about it?"
"I'm convinced I know the truth, which has been concealed."
Challoner started and his face grew eager. "Then your knowledge is of
great importance and I must beg you to share it with me. It may clear
a man I have a strong affection for."
"At the cost of involving another."
"I suppose that follows."
"Then you do not believe it wiser to let a painful matter which is
already almost forgotten rest? You would rake it up, even if it
brought trouble upon innocent people?"
"Justice must be done," said Challoner. "I have always hated jobbery.
If a wrong has been committed, it must be put right."
"You no doubt know that the order to retreat could only have been given
by one of two officers?"
There were signs of tension in Challoner's face and Mrs. Chudleigh
pitied him, but she was forced to be merciless.
"That seems to have been taken for granted. What then?"
"It was a dark night and nobody saw who gave the order, but Blake was
stationed with his electric apparatus in the ravine and the bugler some
distance behind him. Besides, the latter was attached to Captain
Challoner's company."
"But Blake did not fire the mine." Challoner's voice was strained.
"That is true. The conclusion was that he had deserted his post, but I
believe it must be wrong because he was seen busy with the wires."
"Who saw him?"
"One of his comrades, after the attack began, and it seems impossible
that Blake could have reached the bugler when the retreat was sounded.
There were one or two other points which might have been raised, only
that he made no defence. I will mention them."
She had after a long and careful consideration arranged her evidence in
a skilful manner. Facts which had appeared of minor importance to the
men who had noticed them had now, as she handled them, a telling effect
and Challoner grew troubled.
"If needful, I believe I could prove all this, though it would require
strong pressure to make my informant speak," she concluded. "You must
see what it implies?"
"That my son is a coward and gave the shameful order?" Challoner's
eyes glittered, though his face was colourless. "It's unthinkable!"
"Nevertheless it's true. Why did he, without permission and abusing
his authority over the guard, spend two hours late at night with Blake
who was under arrest? What had they to say that took so long, when
there was a risk of Captain Challoner's being discovered? Why did
Blake make no defence, unless it was because he knew that to clear
himself would throw the blame upon his friend?"
"You press me hard," said Challoner in a hoarse voice. "But that my
son should so have failed in his duty to his country and his cousin is
impossible."
"Yet you were willing to believe your nephew guilty. Had you any cause
to doubt his courage?"
"No," said Challoner. "I used to think he loved a risk."
He felt beaten by her remorseless reasoning; there was scarcely a point
he could contest and his heart grew very heavy. A conviction that
humbled him to the dust was being forced on him.
"There is only one conclusion," Mrs. Chudleigh resumed. "The order to
retreat was given by the weaker man, Bertram Challoner."
He turned to her with a gesture that begged her to desist. "My dear
lady, this is very painful. I must try to think it out calmly, and I
am not able now."
For a time there was strained silence, and Mrs. Chudleigh waited until
he roused himself.
"I must know if what you have told me has any bearing on your request
that I should recommend Captain Sedgwick's appointment?"
She paused before she answered, for he was very stern and peremptory.
"Not a direct one. I have kept the secret out of consideration for you
and your son, but since I have done so, I ventured to believe you would
not refuse me a favour that would only cost you a few words to your
friend."
"I'm relieved to hear it," Challoner grimly replied. "You wish to
appeal to my gratitude and not my fears? Has it struck you that, if
you are correct in your conclusions, by keeping silent you were
wronging an innocent man?"
"Think!" she said impressively. "In a sense, Blake stands by himself,
a man of no importance; your son is heir to a fine estate and is
expected to carry on the traditions of the family. He has a young wife
who adores him, and many friends. Is a career such as lies before him
to be destroyed by one weak action which he has since well atoned for?
I believe your nephew saw that his cousin's disgrace would be a
disaster and felt that at any cost the situation must be saved."
Challoner regarded her with a stern smile. "One would imagine that you
are trying to heighten the value of your silence."
"You misjudge me, but since you take this line, I have some claim on
your gratitude. Can you deny it?"
"I had better answer frankly. If my opinion is desired, I will try to
consider Captain Sedgwick's appointment on its merits. You must not
count on more than this."
Mrs. Chudleigh rose and they turned back to the road in silence. It
looked as if she had failed, but she would not give up the game yet.
When Challoner had time to think he would, no doubt, realize the
necessity of safeguarding his son's good name and even his austere
uprightness might fail to stand the strain.
It was half an hour later when Mrs. Keith, who had walked as fast as
she was able, met Foster and the others coming back. She stopped, hot
and breathless, with keen disappointment, for neither Colonel Challoner
nor Mrs. Chudleigh were among them. Then, rousing herself, with an
effort, she asked where they were.
"I can't tell," Mrs. Foster replied. "They dropped behind us and may
have gone home. Mrs. Chudleigh soon gets tired of walking."
Mrs. Keith's heart sank and Foster noticed her expression. "It's a
good way from Hazlehurst, but you look as if you had been hurrying," he
remarked. "Are you very much disappointed that you didn't meet us
earlier?"
"I am disappointed that I missed Challoner," Mrs. Keith answered with a
forced smile.
Foster, who gave her a keen glance, tactfully talked about his shooting
as they went back together, and on reaching the house they found that
Challoner had already driven home.