AN INTERNATIONAL ISSUE
By a merciful dispensation, the ducal party withdrew at twenty-five
minutes past twelve, doubtless to avert the ignominy of compulsion at
the half-hour. By that means we were at least spared any further
ordeal that might be forthcoming from that quarter. And yet would it
have been an ordeal? That conflict which a little while ago had seemed
so demoralising to the overwrought nerves was now only too likely to be
hailed as the sublimity of battle.
We were loth to obey the inexorable decree of the Licensing Act, but
there was no choice. Happily the five minutes' start enjoyed by our
friends and neighbours gave us a clear field, and without further
misadventure the "Stormy Petrel" was escorted to her chariot. She
drove off with Fitz to her hotel, while the rest of us, in no humour
for repose, yielded to the suggestion of Alexander O'Mulligan, "that we
should toddle round to Jermyn Street and draw him for a drink."
It had begun to freeze. Although the pavements were like glass,
overhead the stars were wonderful. The shrewd air was like a balm for
the fumes of the wine and the spirit of lawlessness that had aroused us
to a pitch of exaltation that was almost dangerous. We decided to
walk, if only to lessen the tension upon our nerves. The three junior
members of the conspiracy walked ahead, a little roisterous of aspect,
arm in arm, uncertain of gait--to be sure the condition of the streets
afforded every excuse--and their hats askew. At a respectful distance
and in a fashion more decorous they were followed by the Chief
Constable and myself.
"And now, Coverdale," said I, "have the goodness to explain what you
meant when you told me not to ask what happened to the Ambassador?"
I received no answer.
"My dear fellow," I urged, "I think I am entitled to know."
"You ought to be able to guess!"
"I don't understand; Fitz is certainly safe and sound. How did you
manage to bring them to reason?"
"They were not brought to reason."
The grim tone alarmed me.
"What do you mean?"
I stopped under a street lamp to look into the face of my companion.
"I simply mean this," said he. "The madman shot him dead!"
Involuntarily I reeled against the lamp post.
"You can't mean that," I said feebly.
"If only we could deceive ourselves!" said Coverdale, in a hoarse tone.
"All the time I sat at supper with that--that woman I was trying to
persuade myself that the thing had not happened. The whole business
ought to be a fantastic dream, but my God, it isn't!"
"Well, it was his life or Fitz's, I suppose?"
"Yes, there can be no question about that. The Embassy people admit
it. And there is this to be said for those fellows, they know how to
play the game."
"A pretty low down game anyhow. If they steal a man's wife they must
take the consequences."
"I agree; but the circumstances were exceptional. And give those
fellows their due, as soon as we came to the ballroom they played the
game right up."
"What will happen?"
"No one can say; but they can be trusted to give nothing away."
"But surely the whole thing must come out?"
"Quite possibly; but one prefers to hope that it may not. It is a very
ugly affair, involving international issues; but the First Secretary--I
forget his name--appeared to take a very matter-of-fact and
common-sense view of it. After all, Fitzwaren has merely vindicated
his rights."
Dismally enough we followed in the wake of the others. All day we had
been hovering between tragedy and farce, never quite knowing what would
be the outcome of the extravaganza in which we were bearing a part.
But now we had the answer with no uncertainty.
"All along, some such sequel as this was to be feared," said I, "and
yet I fail to see that any real blame attaches to us."
"Do you! If you ask my opinion, we have all been guilty of
unpardonable folly in backing this fellow Fitzwaren. Really, I can't
think what we have been about. Before the last has been heard of this
business, it strikes me that there will be the devil to pay all round."
In my heart I felt only too clearly that this was the truth.
At O'Mulligan's rooms we drank out of long glasses and were accorded
the privilege of inspecting his "pots." The trophies of the amateur
middle-weight champion of Great Britain, who claimed Dublin as his
natal city, made an extremely brave array. But neither they, nor the
refreshment that was offered to us, were able to dispel the gloom that
had descended upon one and all.
"There is one thing to be said for this chap Fitzwaren," said Alexander
O'Mulligan, in a tone that was not devoid of reverence. "He is grit
all through!"
Truth there might be in this reflection, but there was little
consolation. Sadly we bade adieu to Alexander O'Mulligan and went to
our hotel to bed, yet not to sleep. For myself, I can answer that
throughout the night I had dark forebodings and distorted images for my
bed-fellows; and it was not until it was almost time to rise that I was
at last able to snatch a brief doze.
It was fair to assume that the slumbers of the others had been equally
precarious, for at ten o'clock I found myself to be the first of our
party at the breakfast table. In a few minutes I was joined by
Coverdale, who carried the morning paper in his hand.
He directed my attention to the obituary notice of H.E. the Illyrian
Ambassador, who, it appeared, had met his death at the Illyrian Embassy
in Portland Place at 11.30 o'clock the previous evening, in peculiarly
tragic and distressing circumstances. It appeared that his Excellency,
a noted shot who took a keen interest in firearms of every description,
was engaged in demonstrating to various members of the Embassy certain
merits in the mechanism of a new type of revolver, of which his
Excellency claimed to be the inventor, when the weapon went off,
killing the unfortunate nobleman instantly. The brief statement of the
tragic event was followed by a eulogium, in which the dead Ambassador's
martial, political and social attainments, and the irreparable loss,
not only to his sovereign, but to the polity of nations, was dealt with
at length.
"Those fellows have done well," said Coverdale. "But I should be glad
to think that the last has been heard of this."
This conviction I shared with the Chief Constable, but it was good to
find that thus far Illyrian diplomacy had proved equal to the occasion.
It had the effect of giving me a better appetite for breakfast, and in
consequence I ordered two boiled eggs instead of one.
There was one other item of sinister interest to be found among the
morning's news. In glancing over it my attention was drawn to the
brief account of a mysterious tragedy which had been enacted in Hyde
Park near the Broad Walk the previous evening between six and seven
o'clock. A man who, according to papers found in his possession, bore
the name of Ludovic Bolland, of Illyrian extraction, had been found
dead with a bullet wound in the brain. It was not clear whether it was
a case of murder or suicide. The police inclined to the former
opinion, but at present were not in possession of any information
capable of throwing light upon the subject.
I did not reveal to Coverdale the fell suspicion that I could not keep
out of my thought. The incident of the taxi following us, the
foreign-looking man who had entered the hotel, and Fitz's words and
subsequent conduct, all conspired to form a theory that I was very loth
to entertain and yet from which I was unable to escape. It certainly
had the effect of making me profoundly uncomfortable and caused the
second egg I had ordered to be superfluous after all.
Beyond all things now I longed to return to my country home without
delay. The past twenty-four hours formed a page in my experience
which, if impossible to erase, I earnestly desired to forget.