The Bars of Iron

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER V

  THE DESERT ROAD

  "That is just where you make a mistake, my good Crowther. You're anawfully shrewd chap in some ways, but you understand women just about asthoroughly as I understand theology."

  Piers clasped his hands behind his head, and regarded his friendaffectionately.

  "Do you think so?" said Crowther a little drily.

  Piers laughed. "Now I've trodden on your pet corn. Bear up, old chap!It'll soon be better."

  Crowther's own face relaxed, but he did not look satisfied. "I'm nothappy about you, my son," he said. "I think you've missed a bigopportunity."

  "You think wrong," said Piers, unmoved. "I couldn't possibly have stayedanother hour. I was in a false position. So--poor girl!--was she. Weburied the hatchet for the kiddie's sake, but it wasn't buried very deep.I did my best, and I think she did hers. But--even that last night--wekicked against it. There was no sense in pretending any longer. The gamewas up. So--I came away."

  He uttered the last words nonchalantly; but if Crowther's knowledge ofwomen was limited, he knew his own species very thoroughly, and he wasnot deceived.

  "You didn't see her at all after the little girl died?" he asked.

  "Not at all," said Piers. "I came away by the first train I couldcatch."

  "And left her to her trouble!" Crowther's wide brow was a little drawn.There was even a hint of sternness in his steady eyes.

  "Just so," said Piers. "I left her to mourn in peace."

  "Didn't you so much as write a line of explanation?" Crowther's voice wastroubled, but it held the old kindliness, the old human sympathy.

  Piers shook his head, and stared upwards at the ceiling. "Really therewas nothing to explain," he said. "She knows me--so awfully well."

  "I wonder," said Crowther.

  The dark eyes flashed him a derisive glance. "Better than you do,dear old man, though, I admit, I've let you into a few of my mostgruesome corners. I couldn't have done it if I hadn't trusted you.You realize that?"

  Crowther looked him straight in the face. "That being so, my son," hesaid, "you needn't be so damned lighthearted for my benefit."

  A gleam of haughty surprise drove the smile out of Piers' eyes. Hestraightened himself sharply. "On my soul, Crowther--" he began; thenstopped and leaned back again in his chair. "Oh, all right. I forgot. Yousay any silly rot you like to me."

  "And now and then the truth also," said Crowther.

  Piers' eyes fenced with his, albeit a faint smile hovered about thecorners of his mouth. "I really am not such a humbug as you are pleasedto imagine," he said, after a moment with an oddly boyish touch of pride."I'm feeling lighthearted, and that's a fact."

  "Then you are about the only man in England today who is,"responded Crowther.

  "That may be," carelessly Piers made answer. "Nearly everyone is more orless scared. I'm not. It's going to be a mighty struggle--a Titanicstruggle--but we shall come out on top."

  "At a frightful cost," Crowther said.

  Piers leapt to his feet. "We shan't shirk it on that account. See here,Crowther! I'll tell you something--if you'll swear to keep it dark!"

  Crowther looked up at the eager, glowing face and a very tender look cameinto his own. "Well, Piers?" he said.

  Piers caught him suddenly by the shoulders. "Crowther, Crowther, oldchap, congratulate me! I took--the King's shilling--to-day!"

  "Ah!" Crowther said.

  He gripped Piers' arms tightly, feeling the vitality of him pulse inevery sinew, every tense nerve. And before his mental sight there rosethe dread vision of war--the insatiable--striding like a devouringmonster over a whole continent. With awful clearness he saw the fieldsof slain...

  His eyes came back to Piers, splendid in the fire of his youth, flushedalready with the grim joy of the coming conflict. He got up slowly, stilllooking into the handsome, olive face with its patrician features andarrogant self-confidence. And a cold hand seemed to close upon his heart.

  "Oh, boy!" he said.

  Piers frowned upon him, still half-laughing. "What? Are we down-hearted?Buck up, man! Congratulate me! I was one of the first."

  But congratulation stuck in Crowther's throat. "I wish this hadcome--twenty years ago!" was all he found to say.

  "Thank Heaven it didn't!" ejaculated Piers. "Why, don't you see it'sthe one thing for me--about the only stroke of real luck I've ever hadin my life?"

  "And your wife doesn't know?" said Crowther.

  "She does not. And I won't have her told. Mind that!" Piers' voice wassuddenly determined. "She knows I shan't keep out of it, and that'senough. If she wants me--which she won't--she can get at me throughVictor or one of them. But that won't happen. Don't you worry yourself asto that, my good Crowther! I know jolly well what I'm doing. Don't yousee it's the chance of my life? Do you think I'm going to miss it, what?"

  "I think you're going to break her heart," Crowther said gravely.

  "That's because you don't understand," Piers made steady reply. "Nothingwill alter so long as I stay. But this war is going to alter everything.We shall none of us come out of it as we went in. When I comeback--things will be different."

  He spoke sombrely. The boyish ardour had gone out of him. Something offatefulness, something of solemn realization, of steadfast fortitude, hadtaken its place.

  "I tell you, Crowther," he said, "I am not doing this thing withoutweighing the cost. But--I haven't much to lose, and I've all to gain.Even if it doesn't do--what I hope, it'll steady me down, it'll make aman of me--and not--a murderer."

  His voice sank on the last word. He freed himself from Crowther's holdand turned away.

  Once more he opened the window to the roar of London's life; and sostanding, with his back to Crowther, he spoke again jerkily, with obviouseffort. "Do you remember telling me that something would turn up?Well,--it has. I'm waiting to see what will come of it. But--if it's anysatisfaction to you to know it--I've got clear of my own particular hellat last. I haven't got very far, mind, and it's a beastly desert road I'mon. But I know it'll lead somewhere; so I shall stick to it now."

  He paused a moment; then flung round and faced Crowther with a certainair of triumph.

  "Meantime, old chap, don't you worry yourself about either of us! Mywife will go to her friend Mrs. Lorimer till I come home again. Thenpossibly, with any luck, she'll come to me."

  He smiled with the words and came back to the table. "May I have adrink?" he said.

  Crowther poured one out for him in silence. Somehow he could notspeak. There was something about Piers that stirred him too deeply forspeech just then. He lifted his own glass with no more than a gestureof goodwill.

  "I say, don't be so awfully jolly about it!" laughed Piers. "I tell youit's going to end all right. Life is like that."

  His voice was light, but it held an appeal to which Crowther could notfail to respond.

  "God bless you, my son!" he said. "Life is such a mighty big thing thateven what we call failure doesn't count in the long run. You'll winthrough somehow."

  "And perhaps a little over, what?" laughed Piers. "Who knows?"

  "Who knows?" Crowther echoed, with a smile.

  But he could not shake free from the chill foreboding that had descendedupon him, and when Piers had gone he stood for a long time before hisopen window, wrestling with the dark phantom, trying to reason away adread which he knew to be beyond all reasoning.

  And all through the night that followed, those words of Piers' pursuedhim, marring his rest: "It's a beastly desert road I'm on, but I knowit'll lead somewhere." And the high courage of his bearing! The royalconfidence of his smile!

  Ah, God! Those boys of the Empire, going forth so gallantly to thesacrifice!