Sir Harry called a Council of War.
His Man of Affairs--Smith by name--attended, as also did the Editor of
the _Lewisham and Lee Mail_.
Mr. R. B. Rake (Member of the Institute of Journalists, as his visiting
card testified) was and is, one of the most remarkable personages in
Catford.
A literateur of no indifferent quality, an authority on postage stamps
(I find on referring to Webster's _Dictionary_ that such an expert is
called a philatelist), a vegetarian and a gentleman with pronounced
views. Mr. R. B. Rake can be described in one word--tremendous.
He had a tremendous voice and a tremendous style, and he quoted the
ancient classics inaccurately. He had some Greek, thus he referred to
Sir Harry, as of the [Greek: demioergoi], and the Duke as a [Greek:
metoikoi]. I have my doubts as to the latter description, and I more
than suspect that Mr. Rake, in referring to his grace, thus misapplied
the phrase of "privileged alien."
Mr. Smith, whose duty it was to supervise Sir Harry's "rents," was a
deferential little man, with a garbled knowledge of the law relating to
property.
"Now, gentlemen," said Sir Harry briskly, "we've got to do something
about this Duke man."
"Quite so," said Rake, "it is perhaps unparalleled in the constitutional
history----"
"One moment, Rake," interrupted the knight testily, "let me talk. I
want to make it very clear to you why it is absolutely necessary for the
Duke to be cleared out--did you speak, Smith?"
Mr. Smith did speak: he had an important statement to make and saw his
opportunity. Unfortunately his introduction was not happily framed. "I
said the lore--if a man acts cont'ry to the lore he's done himself,"
said Mr. Smith solemnly, "you can't take liberties with the lore, duke
or no duke. If you catch hold of the lore by the collar it'll turn round
and bite you. Now it happens----"
"Be good enough to withhold your comments until I have completed my
remarks," said Sir Harry with asperity, "I know all that it is necessary
to know concerning the legal situation: I did not," he added pointedly,
"ask you to meet me to discuss an aspect of the situation upon which I
have been already advised--by competent authorities."
"Now that is very true," commented Mr. R. B. Rake in a tone of wondering
surprise, as though Sir Harry's remark had come in the light of a
revelation.
"I know," said Sir Harry, "that I cannot eject this person without
complicated legal proceedings, and I had thought that by the aid of our
good friend Rake we might have shamed him out of the district--but he is
meeting us on our own grounds. He is starting a newspaper."
"I give it a month," said Mr. Rake with conviction, "I've seen these
mushroom growths: there was the _Blackheath Eagle_--run by a man named
Titty--lasted two issues; there was the _Brockley Buzzard_--lasted one;
_Catford and Eltham Indicator_--never came out at all!"
He smiled a tired smile.
"You may be sure that this new paper will last just as long as the Duke
desires it to last," said Sir Harry, "but that is beside the question;
you know the exact position; you are men of affairs acquainted with the
complexities of suburban life, I desire to rid Brockley of this person.
How am I to do it?"
Mr. R. B. Rake pinched his thick lips thoughtfully.
"I think a leader on Democratic ideals, bringing in the Duke as an
oppressor of the people--"
"You can't do that," said Sir Harry brusquely, "he subscribes to the
football club."
"How about an imaginary interview. 'A talk with the D---- de
Mont----r?" suggested Rake.
"Or a little parody on Julius Caesar, satirically reminding the people
of their ingratitude: like this:
"You hard hearts, you cruel men of Lee,
Knew ye not Tanneur! Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney pots
To see great Tanneur pass----"
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Sir Harry wrathfully. "Nobody has ever
climbed up a chimney to see me; nobody knows me in Lewisham."
Mr. Rake protested.
"Nobody knows me I tell you: I've addressed meetings there on Free Trade
and all that sort of thing, but I haven't a single acquaintance, except
my wretched sister-in-law and her annoying daughter--and what the dooce
does Shakespeare say about Tanneur?"
"A pardonable interposition," murmured Mr. Rake noisily. "It is
'Pompey' in the text--you see how admirably it fits the Duke:
"And do you now strew flowers In his (the Duke's) way?
Who comes in triumph over Pompey's (that's you) blood?"
"I--will--not--be--referred--to--as--Pompey," said Sir Harry
deliberately and slowly, and thumped the table at each word, "I am not
going to give that brute a nickname to hang round my neck."
"And look here, Rake," broke in Hal impatiently, "what the devil's the
good of you thinking that any muck you write is likely to shift this
Duke fellow. I'll bet if it comes to writing he could write your head
off. An' there's nothing funny about the Duke fellow coming in triumph
over the governor's blood. Its a beastly tactless thing to say."
Mr. Rake looked at him unfavourably.
"Mr. Hal," he said, in his best editorial manner, "you must allow a
journalist and a gentleman----"
"Journalist my grandmother," said Hal, without reverence, "this is a
council of war--don't let us raise any debatable question. We've got to
think out a way of making this Duke pack up his traps. It doesn't
matter what sort of way, so long as it's an effective way. The governor
doesn't want him there, and I don't want him--he's taken a low down
advantage of me an' probably messed up my whole life----" He tangented
abruptly (the accent on the penultimate.)
"Now whilst you two chaps have been arguing," Hal went on, "I've thought
out a dozen schemes. We might cut off his water----"
"The lore," said Mr. Smith becoming cheerful as the discussion took a
turn into his province, "the lore doesn't allow anybody but the
water-rates to turn----"
"Or the gas," said Hal, silencing the law-abiding Smith with a gesture;
"we could cut the gas off--we can't get him on the rent question
because----"
Mr. Smith's great opportunity came.
"The rent question does him," he said wisely cutting out all preamble,
"because he ain't paid his rent, an' won't pay his rent, and what's
more, he'll see you (accordin' to the American gent who lives with him)
to the--I forget the name of the place--before he pays you."
Sir Harry was dumb with astonishment.
"Here's the letter," said Mr. Smith tremulous with importance, "from the
Duke himself."