ATLEE’S MESSAGE
‘I am right, Maude,’ said Lord Danesbury as his niece re-entered the
drawing-room. ‘This is from Atlee, who is at Athens; but why there I cannot
make out as yet. There are, according to the book, two explanations here.
491 means a white dromedary or the chief clerk, and B + 49 = 12 stands for
our envoy in Greece or a snuffer-dish.’
‘Don’t you think, my lord, it would be better for you to send this up to
Cecil? He has just come in. He has had much experience of these things.’
‘You are quite right, Maude; let Fenton take it up and beg for a speedy
transcript of it. I should like to see it at once!’
While his lordship waited for his despatch, he grumbled away about
everything that occurred to him, and even, at last, about the presence of
the very man, Walpole, who was at that same moment engaged in serving him.
‘Stupid fellow,’ muttered he, ‘why does he ask for extension of his leave?
Staying in town here is only another name for spending money. He’ll have to
go out at last; better do it at once!’
‘He may have his own reasons, my lord, for delay,’ said Maude, rather to
suggest further discussion of the point.
‘He may think he has, I’ve no doubt. These small creatures have always
scores of irons in the fire. So it was when I agreed to go to Ireland.
There were innumerable fine things and clever things he was to do. There
were schemes by which “the Cardinal” was to be cajoled, and the whole Bar
bamboozled. Every one was to have office dangled before his eyes, and to be
treated so confidentially and affectionately, under disappointment, that
even when a man got nothing he would feel he had secured the regard of the
Prime Minister! If I took him out to Turkey to-morrow, he’d never be easy
till he had a plan “to square” the Grand-Vizier, and entrap Gortschakoff or
Miliutin. These men don’t know that a clever fellow no more goes in search
of rogueries than a foxhunter looks out for stiff fences. You “take them”
when they lie before you, that’s all.’ This little burst of indignation
seemed to have the effect on him of a little wholesome exercise, for he
appeared to feel himself better and easier after it.
‘Dear me! dear me!’ muttered he, ‘how pleasant one’s life might be if it
were not for the clever fellows! I mean, of course,’ added he, after a
second or two, ‘the clever fellows who want to impress us with their
cleverness.’
Maude would not be entrapped or enticed into what might lead to a
discussion. She never uttered a word, and he was silent.
It was in the perfect stillness that followed that Walpole entered the room
with the telegram in his hand, and advanced to where Lord Danesbury was
sitting.
‘I believe, my lord, I have made out this message in such a shape as
will enable you to divine what it means. It runs thus: “_Athens, 5th, 12
o’clock. Have seen S----, and conferred at length with him. His estimate of
value_” or “_his price_”--for the signs will mean either--“_to my thinking
enormous. His reasonings certainly strong and not easy to rebut_.” That may
be possibly rendered, “_demands that might probably be reduced._” “_I leave
to-day, and shall be in England by middle of next week._--ATLEE.”’
Walpole looked keenly at the other’s face as he read the paper, to mark
what signs of interest and eagerness the tidings might evoke. There was,
however, nothing to be read in those cold and quiet features.
‘I am glad he is coming back,’ said he at length. ‘Let us see: he can reach
Marseilles by Monday, or even Sunday night. I don’t see why he should not
be here Wednesday, or Thursday at farthest. By the way, Cecil, tell me
something about our friend--who is he?’
[Illustration: Walpole looked keenly at the other’s face as he read the
paper]
‘Don’t know, my lord.’
‘Don’t know! How came you acquainted with him?’
‘Met him at a country-house, where I happened to break my arm, and took
advantage of this young fellow’s skill in surgery to engage his services to
carry me to town. There’s the whole of it.’
‘Is he a surgeon?’
‘No, my lord, any more than he is fifty other things, of which he has a
smattering.’
‘Has he any means--any private fortune?’
‘I suspect not.’
‘Who and what are his family? Are there Atlees in Ireland?’
‘There may be, my lord. There was an Atlee, a college porter, in Dublin;
but I heard our friend say that they were only distantly related.’
He could not help watching Lady Maude as he said this, and was rejoiced to
see a sudden twitch of her lower lip as if in pain.
‘You evidently sent him over to me, then, on a very meagre knowledge of the
man,’ said his lordship rebukingly.
‘I believe, my lord, I said at the time that I had by me a clever fellow,
who wrote a good hand, could copy correctly, and was sufficient of a
gentleman in his manners to make intercourse with him easy, and not
disagreeable.’
‘A very guarded recommendation,’ said Lady Maude, with a smile.
‘Was it not, Maude?’ continued he, his eyes flashing with triumphant
insolence.
‘_I_ found he could do more than copy a despatch--I found he could write
one. He replied to an article in the _Edinburgh_ on Turkey, and I saw him
write it as I did not know there was another man but myself in England
could have done.’
‘Perhaps your lordship had talked over the subject in his presence, or with
him?’
‘And if I had, sir? and if all his knowledge on a complex question was such
as he could carry away from a random conversation, what a gifted dog he
must be to sift the wheat from the chaff--to strip a question of what were
mere accidental elements, and to test a difficulty by its real qualities.
Atlee is a clever fellow, an able fellow, I assure you. That very telegram
before us is a proof how he can deal with a matter on which instruction
would be impossible.’
‘Indeed, my lord!’ said Walpole, with well-assumed innocence.
‘I am right glad to know he is coming home. He must demolish that writer in
the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ at once--some unprincipled French blackguard,
who has been put up to attack me by Thouvenel!’
Would it have appeased his lordship’s wrath to know that the writer of this
defamatory article was no other than Joe Atlee himself, and that the reply
which was to ‘demolish it’ was more than half-written in his desk at that
moment?
‘I shall ask,’ continued my lord, ‘I shall ask him, besides, to write a
paper on Ireland, and that fiasco of yours, Cecil.’
‘Much obliged, my lord!’
‘Don’t be angry or indignant! A fellow with a neat, light hand like Atlee
can, even under the guise of allegation, do more to clear you than scores
of vulgar apologists. He can, at least, show that what our distinguished
head of the Cabinet calls “the flesh-and-blood argument,” has its full
weight with us in our government of Ireland, and that our bitterest enemies
cannot say we have no sympathies with the nation we rule over.’
‘I suspect, my lord, that what you have so graciously called _my_ fiasco
is well-nigh forgotten by this time, and wiser policy would say, “Do not
revive it.”’
‘There’s a great policy in saying in “an article” all that could be said in
“a debate,” and showing, after all, how little it comes to. Even the feeble
grievance-mongers grow ashamed at retailing the review and the newspapers;
but, what is better still, if the article be smartly written, they are sure
to mistake the peculiarities of style for points in the argument. I have
seen some splendid blunders of that kind when I sat in the Lower House! I
wish Atlee was in Parliament.’
‘I am not aware that he can speak, my lord.’
‘Neither am I; but I should risk a small bet on it. He is a ready fellow,
and the ready fellows are many-sided--eh, Maude?’ Now, though his lordship
only asked for his niece’s concurrence in his own sage remark, Walpole
affected to understand it as a direct appeal to her opinion of Atlee, and
said, ‘Is that your judgment of this gentleman, Maude?’
‘I have no prescription to measure the abilities of such men as Mr. Atlee.’
‘You find him pleasant, witty, and agreeable, I hope?’ said he, with a
touch of sarcasm.
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘With an admirable memory and great readiness for an _apropos_?’
‘Perhaps he has.’
‘As a retailer of an incident they tell me he has no rival.’
‘I cannot say.’
‘Of course not. I take it the fellow has tact enough not to tell stories
here.’
‘What is all that you are saying there?’ cried his lordship, to whom these
few sentences were an ‘aside.’
‘Cecil is praising Mr. Atlee, my lord,’ said Maude bluntly.
‘I did not know I had been, my lord,’ said he. ‘He belongs to that class of
men who interest me very little.’
‘What class may that be?’
‘The adventurers, my lord. The fellows who make the campaign of life on the
faith that they shall find their rations in some other man’s knapsack.’
‘Ha! indeed. Is that our friend’s line?’
‘Most undoubtedly, my lord. I am ashamed to say that it was entirely my own
fault if you are saddled with the fellow at all.’
‘I do not see the infliction--’
‘I mean, my lord, that, in a measure, I put him on you without very well
knowing what it was that I did.’
‘Have you heard--do you know anything of the man that should inspire
caution or distrust?’
‘Well, these are strong words,’ muttered he hesitatingly.
But Lady Maude broke in with a passionate tone, ‘Don’t you see, my lord,
that he does not know anything to this person’s disadvantage; that it
is only my cousin’s diplomatic reserve--that commendable caution of his
order--suggests his careful conduct? Cecil knows no more of Atlee than we
do.’
‘Perhaps not so much,’ said Walpole, with an impertinent simper.
‘_I_ know,’ said his lordship, ‘that he is a monstrous clever fellow. He
can find you the passage you want or the authority you are seeking for at a
moment; and when he writes, he can be rapid and concise too.’
‘He has many rare gifts, my lord,’ said Walpole, with the sly air of one
who had said a covert impertinence. ‘I am very curious to know what you
mean to do with him.’
‘Mean to do with him? Why, what should I mean to do with him?’
‘The very point I wish to learn. A protégé, my lord, is a parasitic plant,
and you cannot deprive it of its double instincts--to cling and to climb.’
‘How witty my cousin has become since his sojourn in Ireland,’ said Maude.
Walpole flushed deeply, and for a moment he seemed about to reply angrily;
but, with an effort, he controlled himself, and turning towards the
timepiece on the chimney, said, ‘How late! I could not have believed it was
past one! I hope, my lord, I have made your despatch intelligible?’
‘Yes, yes; I think so. Besides, he will be here in a day or two to
explain.’
‘I shall, then, say good-night, my lord. Good-night, Cousin Maude.’ But
Lady Maude had already left the room unnoticed.