"Colonel Carlyon," said Averil, turning to face him fully, her eyes very
bright, "will you take the trouble to make me understand about Derrick?
I have been awaiting an opportunity to ask you ever since I heard about
it."
Carlyon paused. They chanced to be staying simultaneously in the house
of a mutual friend. He had arrived only the previous evening, and till
that moment had scarcely spoken to the girl.
Carlyon smothered an involuntary sigh. He could have wished that this
girl, with her straight eyes and honest speech, would have spared him
the explanation which she had made such speed to demand of him.
"Make you understand, Miss Eversley!" he said, halting deliberately
before a bookcase. "What exactly is it that you do not understand?"
"Everything," Averil said, with a comprehensive gesture. "I have always
believed that you thought more of Derrick than anything else in the
world."
"Ah!" said Carlyon quietly. "That is probably the root of the
misunderstanding. Correct that, and the rest will be comparatively
easy."
He took a book from the shelf before him and ran a quick eye through its
pages. After a brief pause he put the volume back and joined the girl on
the hearthrug.
"Is my behaviour still an enigma?" he said, with a slight smile.
She turned to him impulsively. "Of course," she said, colouring vividly,
"I am aware that to a celebrated man like you the opinion of a nobody
like myself cannot matter one straw. But--"
"Pardon me!" Carlyon gravely. "Even celebrated men are human, you know.
They have their feelings like the rest of mankind. I shall be sorry to
forfeit your good opinion. But I have no means of retaining it. Derrick
cannot see my point of view. You, of course, will share his
difficulties."
"That does not follow, does it?" said Averil.
"I should say so," said Carlyon. "You see, Miss Eversley, you have
already told me that you do not understand my action. Non-comprehension
in such a matter is synonymous with disapproval. You are, no doubt, in
full possession of the facts. More than the bare facts I cannot give
you. I will not attempt to justify myself where I admit no guilt."
"No," Averil said. "Pray don't think I am asking you to do anything of
the sort! Only, Colonel Carlyon," she laid a pleading hand on his arm
and lifted a very anxious face, "you remember we used to be friends, if
you will allow the presumption of such a term. Won't you even try to
show me your point of view in this matter? I think I could understand. I
want to understand."
Carlyon leant his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked very gravely into
the girl's troubled eyes.
"You are very generous, Averil," he said.
"Generous," she echoed, with a touch of impatience. "No; I only want to
be just--for my own sake. I hate to take a narrow, cramped view of
things. I hate that Dick should. A few words from you would set us both
right, and we could all be friends again."
"Ah!" said Carlyon. "But suppose--I have nothing to say?"
"You must have something!" she declared vehemently. "You never do
anything without a reason."
"Generous again!" said Carlyon.
"Oh, don't laugh at me!" cried Averil, stung by the quiet unconcern of
his words.
He straightened himself instantly, his face suddenly stern. "At least
you wrong me there!" he said, and before the curt reproof of his tone
she felt humbled and ashamed. "Listen to me a moment! You want my point
of view clearly stated. You shall have it.
"I am employed by a blundering Government to do a certain task which
bigger men shirk. Carlyon of the Frontier, they say, will stick at no
dirty job. I undertake the task. I lay my plans--subtle plans which you,
with your blind British generosity, would neither understand nor
approve. I proceed to carry them out. I am within sight of the end and
success, when an idiotic fool of a boy, who is not so much as a
combatant himself, blunders into the business and throws the whole
scheme out of gear. He assumes the leadership of a dozen stranded
Goorkhas, and instead of bringing them back he drags them forward into
an impossible position, and then expects a rescue.
"I meanwhile have my own work to do. I am responsible to the Government
for the lives of my men. I cannot expend them on other than Government
work.
"On one side of the scale is this same Government and the plans made in
its interest; on the other the life of a boy, strategically speaking,
worth nothing, and the lives of half-a-score of fighting men, already
accounted a loss. It may astonish you to know that the Government turned
the scale. Those who had incurred the penalty of rashness were left to
pay it. That, Miss Eversley, is all I have to say. You will be good
enough to remember that I have said it at your request and not in my own
defence."
He ceased to speak as abruptly as he had begun. He was standing at his
full height, and, tall though she was, Averil felt unaccountably small
and insignificant before him. Curtly, almost rudely, as he had spoken,
she admired him immensely for the stern code of honour he professed.
She did not utter a word for several seconds. He had impressed her very
strongly. She stayed to weigh his words in the balance of her own
judgment.
"It is a man's point of view," she said slowly at last, "not a woman's."
"Even so," said Carlyon, dropping back suddenly to his former attitude.
She looked at him very earnestly, her brows drawn together.
"You have not told me about the Secret Service man," she said at length.
"You sent him, did you not, on the forlorn chance of saving Dick?"
Carlyon shook his head in a grim disclaimer.
"Derrick's information was the first I heard of the individual," he
said. "I was unaware of the existence of a Secret Service agent within a
radius of fifty miles. I believe General Harford encourages the breed. I
do the precise opposite. I have no faith in professional spies in that
part of the world. Russian territory is too near, and Russian gold too
tempting."
Averil's face fell. "Colonel Carlyon," she said, in a very small voice,
"forgive me, but--but--you cannot be so hard as you sound. You are fond
of Dick, surely?"
"Yes," he said deliberately. "I am fond of you both, if I may be
permitted to say so."
Averil coloured a little. "Thank you," she said. "I shall try presently
to make him understand."
"Understand what?" said Carlyon curiously.
"Your feeling in the matter."
"My what?" he said roughly. Then hastily, "I beg your pardon, Miss
Eversley. But are you sure you understand it yourself?"
"I am doing my best," she said, in a low voice.
"But you are sorely disappointed, nevertheless," he said, in a more
kindly tone. "You expected something different. Well, it can't be
helped. I should leave Dick's convictions alone, if I were you. At least
he has no illusions left with regard to Carlyon of the Frontier."
There was an involuntary touch of sadness in the man's quiet speech. He
no longer looked at Averil, and his face in repose wore an expression of
unutterable weariness.
Averil held out her hand with an abrupt, childlike impulse.
"Colonel Carlyon," she said, speaking very rapidly, "you are right. I
don't understand. I think you hold too stern a view of your
responsibilities. I believe no woman could think otherwise. But at the
same time I do still believe you are a good man. I shall always believe
it."
Carlyon glanced at her quickly. Her face was flushed, her eyes very
eager. He looked away again almost instantly, but he took her
outstretched hand.
"Thank you, Averil," he said gravely. "I believe under the circumstances
few women would have said the same. Tell me! Did I hear a rumour that
you are going out to India yourself very shortly?"
She nodded. "I have almost promised to go," she said. "I have a married
sister at Sharapura. I wrote to her of my engagement, and she wrote
back, begging me to go to her if I could. She and her husband have been
disappointed several times about coming home, and it is still uncertain
when they will manage it. She wants to see me before I marry and settle
down, she says."
"And you want to go?"
"Of course I do," said Averil, with enthusiasm. "It has always been a
standing promise that I should go some day."
"And what does Derrick say to it?"
"Oh, Dick! He was very cross at first. But I have propitiated him by
promising to marry him as soon as I get back, which will be probably
this time next year."
Averil's face grew suddenly grave.
"I hope you will both be very happy," said Carlyon, rather formally.
"Thank you," said Averil, looking up at him. "It would make me much
happier if--you and Dick could be friends before then."
"Would it?" said Carlyon thoughtfully. "I wonder why."
"I should like my friends to be Dick's friends," she said, with slight
hesitation.
Carlyon smiled a little. "Forgive me, Miss Eversley, for being
monotonous!" he said.... "But, once more--how generous!"
Averil turned sharply away, inexplicably hurt by what she considered the
note of mockery in his voice, and went out, leaving him alone before the
fire. Emphatically this man was entirely beyond her understanding.
But, nevertheless, when they met again, she had forgiven him.