A COMMISSION.
Lord Evelyn obeyed his friend's summons in considerable anxiety, if not
even alarm; for he made no doubt that it had some connection with that
mysterious undertaking to which Brand was pledged; but when he reached
Lisle Street, and was shown into the larger room, no very serious
business seemed going forward. Two or three of the best-known to him
among the English members of the Society were present, grouped round a
certain Irish M.P., who, with twinkling eyes but otherwise grave face,
was describing the makeshifts of some provincial manager or other who
could not pay his company their weekly salary. To the further surprise
of the new-comer, also, Mr. Lind was absent; his chair was occupied by
Gathorne Edwards.
He was asked to go into an inner room; and there he found Brand, looking
much more like himself than he had done for some time back.
"It is awfully kind of you, Evelyn, to come at once. I heard you had
returned to town yesterday. Well, what of the old people down in
Wiltshire?"
Lord Evelyn was quite thrown off his guard by this frank cheerfulness.
He forgot the uneasy forebodings with which he had left his house.
"Oh, capital old people!" he said, putting his hat and umbrella on the
table--"excellent. But you see, Brand, it becomes a serious question if
I have to bury myself in the country, and drink port-wine after dinner,
and listen to full-blown, full-fed glorious old Tories, every time a
sister of mine gets engaged to be married. And now that Rosalys has
begun it, they'll all take to it, one after the other, like sheep
jumping a ditch."
"They say Milbanke is a very nice young fellow," said Brand.
"Petted, a little. But then, an only son, and heaps of money: perhaps
its natural. I know he is a ghastly hypocrite," added Lord Evelyn, who
seemed to have some little grudge against his brother-in-law in
prospect. "It was too bad of him to go egging on those old megatheria to
talk politics until they were red in the face, denouncing Free-trade,
and abusing the Ballot, and foretelling the ruin of the former as soon
as the Education Act began to work. Then he pretended to be on their
side--"
"What did you do?"
"I sat quiet. I was afraid I might be eaten. I relapsed into
contemplation; and began to compose a volume on 'Tory Types: Some
Survivals in English Politics. For the Information of Town Readers.'"
"Well, now you have done your duty, and cemented the alliance between
the two families--by drinking port-wine, I suppose--what do you say to a
little pleasure-trip?"
"Oh, is that all?" he said, looking up quickly. "Is that what your note
meant?"
"The fact is, Evelyn," he said, with a trifle of embarrassment, "Natalie
and her mother are in Naples, and I don't know precisely in what
circumstances. I am a little anxious about them--I should like to know
more of their surroundings: why, for one thing, I don't know whether
they have any money, even. I would go over myself, Evelyn, but the
truth is I cannot--not very well. At least I ought not to go; and I
thought, if you had time--being an old friend of Natalie's--you would
like to see that she was all right.
"Where is Lind?" said Lord Evelyn, suddenly.
"Lind is in Italy also," said Brand, evasively.
"Not with them?"
"Oh no."
There was an awkward silence. At length Brand said,
"Something very serious has happened, Evelyn: and the question is
whether, in the interests of the Society, it should not be kept a
secret, if it is possible."
"I do not wish to know any secret," Lord Evelyn said, simply. "I am
willing to go over to Naples at once, if I can be of any service."
"It is very kind of you; I thought you would say as much," Brand said,
still hesitating. "But then I doubt whether you could be of much service
unless you understood the whole situation of affairs. At present only
two over here know what has occurred--Edwards and myself. Yes, I think
you must know also. Read this letter; it came only last night."
He unlocked a drawer, took out a letter, and gave it to Lord Evelyn, who
read it slowly. When he had finished, he put it on the table without a
word.
"You understand?" Brand said, calmly. "That means that Lind is to be
punished with death for treachery. Don't think about me; I've had a
narrow escape, but I have escaped--thanks to Natalie's courage and
decision. What I am concerned about is the effect that such a disclosure
might have on the fortunes of the Society. Would it not provoke a
widespread feeling of disgust? Wouldn't there always be a suspicion?"
"But you yourself, Brand!" Evelyn exclaimed, in amazement. "Why, you--I
thought you would be the first to resign, after such an escape."
"I have fought all through that, Evelyn," he said, absently. "It was my
first impulse--I confess it. The thought of being associated with such
men sickened me; I despaired; I wished they had never been found out,
and that I had been let blindly go on to the end. Well, I got over the
fit--with a struggle. It was not reasonable, after all. Surely one's
belief in the future of the Society ought to be all the firmer that
these black sheep have been thrust out? As for myself, at all events, I
ought to have more hope, not less. I never did trust Lind, as you know;
I believed in his work, in the usefulness of it, and the prospects of
its success; but I never was at ease in his presence; I was glad to get
away to my own work in the north. And now, with the way clearer, why
should one think of giving up? To tell you the truth, Evelyn, I would
give anything to be in America at the present moment, if only Natalie
and her mother were in safety. There is a chance for us there bigger
than anything Lind ever dreamed about. You know the Granges, the
associations of the 'Patrons of Husbandry,' that were founded by the
Scotchman Saunders? It is an immense social organization; the success of
it has been quite unprecedented; they have an immense power in their
hands. And it isn't only agriculture they deal with; they touch on
politics here and there; they control elections; and the men they choose
are invariably men of integrity. Well, now, don't you see this splendid
instrument ready-made? From what I hear from Philadelphia--"
Lord Evelyn's thoughts were elsewhere than in Philadelphia.
"You must tell me about yourself, Brand!" he exclaimed. "Your life is no
longer in danger, then? How has it happened?"
"Oh," said Brand, somewhat carelessly, "I don't know all the particulars
as yet. What I do know is that Natalie and her mother disappeared from
London; I had no idea whither they had gone. Then Calabressa turned up;
and I heard that Natalie had appealed to the Council. Fancy, she, a
young girl, had had the courage to go and appeal to the Council! Then
Calabressa suspected something, I saw by his questions; then Lind,
Beratinsky, and Reitzei appear to have been summoned to Naples. The
result is in that letter; that is about all I know."
"And these others in there?" said Lord Evelyn, glancing to the door.
"They know nothing at all. That is what I am uncertain about: whether to
leave the disappearance of Lind unaccounted for--merely saying he had
been summoned away by the Council--or to let everybody who may hear of
it understand that, powerful as he was, he had to succumb to the laws of
the Society, and accept the penalty for his error. I am quite uncertain;
I have no instructions. You might find out for me in Naples, Evelyn, if
you went over there--you might find out what they consider advisable."
"You are in Lind's place, then?"
"Not at all," said he, quickly, and with a slight flush. "Edwards and I
are merely keeping the thing going until matters are settled. Did you
notice whether Molyneux was in the next room when you came through?"
"Yes he was."
"Then excuse me for a minute or two. I want to speak to you further
about Naples."
Brand was gone some time, and Lord Evelyn was left to ponder over these
strange tidings. To him they were very joyful tidings; for ever since
that communication was made to him of the danger that threatened his
friend's life, he had been haunted by the recollection that, but for
him, Brand would in all probability have never heard of this
association. It was with an infinite sense of personal relief that he
now knew this danger was past. Already he saw himself on his way to
Naples, to find out the noble girl who had taken so bold a step to save
her lover. Not yet had darkness fallen over these two lives.
Brand returned, carefully shut the door after him, and seated himself on
a corner of the table.
"You see, Evelyn," he said, quite in his old matter-of-fact way, "I
can't pretend to have very much regret over what has happened to Lind.
He tried to do me an ill turn, and he has got the worst of it; that is
all. On the other hand, I bear him no malice: you don't want to hurt a
man when he is down. I can guess that it isn't the death-penalty that he
is thinking most of now. I can even make some excuse for him, now that I
see the story plain. The temptation was great; always on the
understanding that he was against my marrying his daughter; and that I
had been sure of it for some time. To punish me for not giving up my
property, to keep Natalie to himself, and to get this difficult duty
securely undertaken all at once--it was worth while trying for. But his
way of going about it was shabby. It was a mean trick. Well, there is
nothing more to be said on that point: he has played--played a foul
game--and lost."
He added, directly afterward,
"So you think you can go to Naples?"
"Certainly," said Evelyn, with promptness. "You don't know how glad I am
about this, Brand. If you had come to grief over your relations with
this Society, it would have been like a mill-stone hanging on my
conscience all my life. And I shall be delighted to go to Italy for you.
I should like to see the look on Natalie's face."
"You will probably find her in great trouble," Brand said, gravely.
"In trouble?"
"Naturally. Don't you see, Evelyn, she could not have foreseen that the
result of her appeal would involve the destruction of her father. It is
impossible to believe that she could have foreseen that. I know her; she
would not have stirred hand or foot. And now that this has been
discovered, it is not her father's guilt she will be thinking of; it is
his fate, brought about indirectly by herself. You may be sure, Evelyn,
she will not be overjoyed at the present moment. All the more reason why
one who knows her should be near her. I have no idea what sort of people
are about her; I should be more satisfied if I knew you were there."
"I am ready to go; I am ready to start this afternoon, as I say," Evelyn
repeated; but then he added, with some hesitation: "But I am not going
to play the part of a hypocrite, Brand. I could not pretend to
sympathize with her, if that is the cause of her trouble; I should tell
her it served her father right."
"You could not be so brutal if you tried, Evelyn," Brand said; "you
might think so: you could not tell her so. But I have no fear: you will
be discreet enough, and delicate enough, when you see her."
"And what am I to say from you?"
"From me?" he said. "Oh, you can say I thank her for having saved my
life. That will be enough, I think; she will understand the rest."
"I mean, what do you advise her to do? Ought they to return to England?"
"I think so, certainly. Most likely she will be waiting there, trying to
get the Council to reverse the sentence. Having been successful in the
one case, the poor child may think she ought to succeed in the other. I
fear that is too much to expect. However, if she is anxious, she may
try. I should like to know there was somebody near her she could rely
on--don't you understand, Evelyn?--to see that she is situated and
treated as you would like one of your own sisters to be."
"I see what it is, Brand," Lord Evelyn said, laughing, "you are jealous
of the foreigners. You think they will be using tooth-picks in her
presence, and that kind of thing."
"I wish to know that she and her mother are in a good hotel," said
Brand, simply, "with proper rooms, and attendance, and--and a carriage:
women can't go walking through these beastly streets of Naples. The long
and short of it is, Evelyn," he added, with some embarrassment, as he
took out from his pocket-book two blank checks, and sat down at the
table and signed them, "I want you to play the part of big brother to
them, don't you know? And you will have to exercise skill as well as
force. Don't you see, Calabressa is the best of fellows; but he would
think nothing of taking them to stay in some vile restaurant, if the
proprietor were politically inclined--"
"Yes, yes; I see: garlic; cigarettes during breakfast, right opposite
the ladies; wine-glasses used as finger-glasses: well, you are a
thorough Englishman, Brand!"
"I suppose, when your sisters go abroad, you see that they are directed
to a proper hotel?" said Brand, somewhat angrily.
"I know this," said Evelyn, laughing, "that my sisters, and you, and
Calabressa, and myself, all boiled together, wouldn't make half as good
a traveller as Natalie Lind is. Don't you believe she has been led away
into any slummy place, for the sake of politics or anything else. I will
bet she knows the best hotels in Naples as well as you do the Waldegrave
Club."
"At any rate, you've got to play the big brother, Evelyn; and it is my
affair, of course: I will not allow you to be out of pocket by it. Here
are two checks; you can fill them in over there when you see how matters
stand: ----, at Rome, will cash them."
"Do you mean to say I have to pay their hotel-bills?"
"If they have plenty of money, certainly not; but you must find out. You
must take the bull by the horns. It is far more likely that they have so
little money that they may be becoming anxious. Then you must use a firm
hand--I mean with Natalie. Her mother will acquiesce. And you can tell
Natalie that if she would buy something--some dress, or something--for
the mother of old Calabressa, who is still living--at Spezia, I
think--she would make the old chap glad. And that would be a mark of my
gratitude also; you see, I have never had even the chance of thanking
him as yet."
Lord Evelyn rose.
"Very well," said he, "I will send you a report of my mission. How am I
to find them?"
"You must find them through Calabressa," he said, "for I have not got
their address. So you can start this evening?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Then I will telegraph at once to Calabressa to let them know you are
coming. Mind you, I am very grateful to you, Evelyn; though I wish I was
going in your stead."
Lord Evelyn got some further instructions as to how he was to discover
Calabressa on his arrival in Naples; and that evening he began his
journey to the south. He set out, indeed, with a light heart. He knew
that Natalie would be glad to have a message from England.
At Genoa he had to break the journey for a day, having some commission
to perform on behalf of the Society: this was a parting bequest from
Gathorne Edwards. Then on again; and in due time he entered Naples.
He scarcely noticed, as he entered the vehicle and drove away to his
hotel, what bare-footed lads outside the station were bawling as they
offered the afternoon papers to the newly-arrived passengers. What
interest had he in Zaccatelli?
But what the news-venders were calling aloud was this:
"_The death of the Cardinal Zaccatelli! Death of Zaccatelli! The death
of the Cardinal Zaccatelli!_"