A GREAT WORK
The Countess of Deringham might be excused for considering herself the
most unfortunate woman in England. In a single week she had passed from
the position of one of the most brilliant leaders of English society to
be the keeper of a recluse, whose sanity was at least doubtful. Her
husband, Admiral the Earl of Deringham, had been a man of iron nerve and
constitution, with a splendid reputation, and undoubtedly a fine seaman.
The horror of a single day had broken up his life. He had been the
awe-stricken witness of a great naval catastrophe, in which many of his
oldest friends and companions had gone to the bottom of the sea before
his eyes, together with nearly a thousand British seamen. The
responsibility for the disaster lay chiefly from those who had perished
in it, yet some small share of the blame was fastened upon the
onlookers, and he himself, as admiral in command, had not altogether
escaped. From the moment when they had led him down from the bridge of
his flagship, grey and fainting, he had been a changed man. He had never
recovered from the shock. He retired from active service at once, under
a singular and marvellously persistent delusion. Briefly he believed, or
professed to believe, that half the British fleet had perished, and that
the country was at the mercy of the first great Power who cared to send
her warships up the Thames. It was a question whether he was really
insane; on any ordinary topic his views were the views of a rational
man, but the task which he proceeded to set himself was so absorbing
that any other subject seemed scarcely to come within the horizon of his
comprehension. He imagined himself selected by no less a person than the
Secretary for War, to devote the rest of his life to the accomplishment
of a certain undertaking! Practically his mission was to prove by
figures, plans, and naval details (unknown to the general public), the
complete helplessness of the empire. He bought a yacht and commenced a
series of short cruises, lasting over two years, during the whole of
which time his wife was his faithful and constant companion. They
visited in turn each one of the fortified ports of the country, winding
up with a general inspection of every battleship and cruiser within
British waters. Then, with huge piles of amassed information before him,
he settled down in Norfolk to the framing of his report, still under the
impression that the whole country was anxiously awaiting it. His wife
remained with him then, listening daily to the news of his progress, and
careful never to utter a single word of discouragement or disbelief in
the startling facts which he sometimes put before her. The best room in
the house, the great library, was stripped perfectly bare and fitted up
for his study, and a typist was engaged to copy out the result of his
labours in fair form. Lately, the fatal results to England which would
follow the public disclosure of her awful helplessness had weighed
heavily upon him, and he was beginning to live in the fear of betrayal.
The room in which he worked was fitted with iron shutters, and was
guarded night and day. He saw no visitors, and was annoyed if any were
permitted to enter the house. He met his wife only at dinner time, for
which meal he dressed in great state, and at which no one else was ever
allowed to be present. He suffered, when they were alone, no word to
pass his lips, save with reference to the subject of his labours; it is
certain he looked upon himself as the discoverer of terrible secrets.
Any remark addressed to him upon other matters utterly failed to make
any impression. If he heard it he did not reply. He would simply look
puzzled, and, as speedily as possible withdraw. He was sixty years of
age, of dignified and kindly appearance; a handsome man still, save that
the fire of his blue eyes was quenched, and the firm lines of his
commanding mouth had become tremulous. Wolfenden, on his arrival, was
met in the hall by his mother, who carried him off at once to have tea
in her own room. As he took a low chair opposite to her he was conscious
at once of a distinct sense of self-reproach. Although still a handsome
woman, the Countess of Deringham was only the wreck of her former
brilliant self. Wolfenden, knowing what her life must be, under its
altered circumstances, could scarcely wonder at it. The black hair was
still only faintly streaked with grey, and her figure was as slim and
upright as ever. But there were lines on her forehead and about her
eyes, her cheeks were thinner, and even her hands were wasted. He looked
at her in silent pity, and although a man of singularly undemonstrative
habits, he took her hand in his and pressed it gently. Then he set
himself to talk as cheerfully as possible.
"There is nothing much wrong physically with the Admiral, I hope?" he
said, calling him by the name they still always gave him. "I saw him
at the window as I came round. By the bye, what is that extraordinary
looking affair like a sentry-box doing there?"
The Countess sighed.
"That is part of what I have to tell you," she said. "A sentry-box is
exactly what it is, and if you had looked inside you would have seen
Dunn or Heggs there keeping guard. In health your father seems as well
as ever; mentally, I am afraid that he is worse. I fear that he is
getting very bad indeed. That is why I have sent for you, Wolf!"
Wolfenden was seriously and genuinely concerned. Surely his mother had
had enough to bear.
"I am very sorry," he said. "Your letter prepared me a little for this;
you must tell me all about it."
"He has suddenly become the victim," the Countess said, "of a new and
most extraordinary delusion. How it came to pass I cannot exactly tell,
but this is what happened. He has a bed, you know, made up in an
ante-room, leading from the library, and he sleeps there generally.
Early this morning the whole house was awakened by the sound of two
revolver shots. I hurried down in my dressing-gown, and found some of
the servants already outside the library door, which was locked and
barred on the inside. When he heard my voice he let me in. The room was
in partial darkness and some disorder. He had a smoking revolver in his
hand, and he was muttering to himself so fast that I could not
understand a word he said. The chest which holds all his maps and papers
had been dragged into the middle of the room, and the iron staple had
been twisted, as though with a heavy blow. I saw that the lamp was
flickering and a current of air was in the room, and when I looked
towards the window I found that the shutters were open and one of the
sashes had been lifted. All at once he became coherent.
"'Send for Morton and Philip Dunn!' he cried. 'Let the shrubbery and all
the Home Park be searched. Let no one pass out of either of the gates.
There have been thieves here!'
"I gave his orders to Morton. 'Where is Richardson?' I asked. Richardson
was supposed to have been watching outside. Before he could answer
Richardson came in through the window. His forehead was bleeding, as
though from a blow.
"'What has happened, Richardson?' I asked. The man hesitated and looked
at your father. Your father answered instead.
"'I woke up five minutes ago,' he cried, 'and found two men here. How
they got past Richardson I don't know, but they were in the room, and
they had dragged my chest out there, and had forced a crowbar through
the lock! I was just in time; I hit one man in the arm and he fired
back. Then they bolted right past Richardson. They must have nearly
knocked you down. You must have been asleep, you idiot,' he cried, 'or
you could have stopped them!'
"I turned to Richardson; he did not say a word, but he looked at me
meaningly. The Admiral was examining his chest, so I drew Richardson on
one side.
"'Is this true, Richardson?' I asked. The man shook his head.
"'No, your ladyship,' he said bluntly, 'it ain't; there's no two men
been here at all! The master dragged the chest out himself; I heard him
doing it, and I saw the light, so I left my box and stepped into the
room to see what was wrong. Directly he saw me he yelled out and let fly
at me with his revolver! It's a wonder I'm alive, for one of the bullets
grazed my temple!'
"Then he went on to say that he would like to leave, that no wages were
good enough to be shot at, and plainly hinted that he thought your
father ought to be locked up. I talked him over, and then got the
Admiral to go back to bed. We had the place searched as a matter of
form, but of course there was no sign of anybody. He had imagined the
whole thing! It is a mercy that he did not kill Richardson!"
"This is very serious," Wolfenden said gravely. "What about his
revolver?"
"I managed to secure that," the Countess said. "It is locked up in my
drawer, but I am afraid that he may ask for it at any moment."
"We can make that all right," Wolfenden said; "I know where there are
some blank cartridges in the gun-room, and I will reload the revolver
with them. By the bye, what does Blatherwick say about all this?"
"He is almost as worried as I am, poor little man," Lady Deringham said.
"I am afraid every day that he will give it up and leave. We are paying
him five hundred a year, but it must be miserable work for him. It is
really almost amusing, though, to see how terrified he is at your
father. He positively shakes when he speaks to him."
"What does he have to do?" Wolfenden asked.
"Oh, draw maps and make calculations and copy all sorts of things. You
see it is wasted and purposeless work, that is what makes it so hard for
the poor man."
"You are quite sure, I suppose," Wolfenden asked, after a moment's
hesitation, "that it is all wasted work?"
"Absolutely," the Countess declared. "Mr. Blatherwick brings me,
sometimes in despair, sheets upon which he has been engaged for days.
They are all just a hopeless tangle of figures and wild calculations!
Nobody could possibly make anything coherent out of them."
"I wonder," Wolfenden suggested thoughtfully, "whether it would be a
good idea to get Denvers, the secretary, to write and ask him not to go
on with the work for the present. He could easily make some excuse--say
that it was attracting attention which they desired to avoid, or
something of that sort! Denvers is a good fellow, and he and the Admiral
were great friends once, weren't they?"
The Countess shook her head.
"I am afraid that would not do at all," she said. "Besides, out of pure
good nature, of course, Denvers has already encouraged him. Only last
week he wrote him a friendly letter hoping that he was getting on, and
telling him how interested every one in the War Office was to hear about
his work. He has known about it all the time, you see. Then, too, if the
occupation were taken from your father, I am afraid he would break down
altogether."
"Of course there is that to be feared," Wolfenden admitted. "I wonder
what put this new delusion into his head? Does he suspect any one in
particular?"
The Countess shook her head.
"I do not think so; of course it was Miss Merton who started it. He
quite believes that she took copies of all the work she did here, but he
was so pleased with himself at the idea of having found her out, that he
has troubled very little about it. He seems to think that she had not
reached the most important part of his work, and he is copying that
himself now by hand."
"But outside the house has he no suspicions at all?"
"Not that I know of; not any definite suspicion. He was talking last
night of Duchesne, the great spy and adventurer, in a rambling sort of
way. 'Duchesne would be the man to get hold of my work if he knew of
it,' he kept on saying. 'But none must know of it! The newspapers must
be quiet! It is a terrible danger!' He talked like that for some time.
No, I do not think that he suspects anybody. It is more a general
uneasiness."
"Poor old chap!" Wolfenden said softly. "What does Dr. Whitlett think
of him? Has he seen him lately? I wonder if there is any chance of his
getting over it?"
"None at all," she answered. "Dr. Whitlett is quite frank; he will never
recover what he has lost--he will probably lose more. But come, there is
the dressing bell. You will see him for yourself at dinner. Whatever you
do don't be late--he hates any one to be a minute behind time."