The Arbiter: A Novel

by Lady Florence Eveleen Eleanore Olliffe Bell

  CHAPTER XII

  In the meantime Lord Stamfordham, watching the situation, felt there wasnot a single instant to lose. There is one moment in the life of aconflagration when it can be stamped out: that moment passed, no powercan stop it. Stamfordham, his head clear, his determination strong andready, resolved to act without hesitating on his own responsibility. Hesent a letter round to Prince Bergowitz, the German Ambassador, begginghim to come and see him. Prince Bergowitz was laid up with an attack ofgout which unfortunately prevented his coming, but he would be glad toreceive Lord Stamfordham if he would come to see him.

  It was a little later in the same day that Rendel, alone in his study,was standing, newspaper in hand, in front of the map of Africa lookingto see the exact localities where the events were happening which mighthave such dire consequences. At that moment Wentworth, passing throughCosmo Place, looked through the window and saw him thus engaged. Heknocked at the hall door, and, after being admitted, walked into thestudy without waiting to be announced.

  "Looking at the map of Africa, and I don't wonder," he said. "Isn't itawful?"

  "It's terrible," said Rendel, "about as bad as it can be."

  "Look here, why aren't you over there to help to settle it?" saidWentworth.

  "Well, I should not have been there, in any case," said Rendel. "That iswhere I should have been--look," with something like a sigh.

  "You would have been nearer than you are now," said Wentworth. "Upon myword, I haven't patience with you. The idea of throwing up such a chanceas you have had!"

  "How do you know about it?" Rendel said.

  "How do I know?" said Wentworth. "Everybody knows that you were offeredit and refused."

  "After all," said Rendel, "there are some things one leaves undone inthis world. It does not follow that because people are offered a thingthey must necessarily accept it."

  "I don't say I am not in favour of leaving things undone," Wentworthsaid, "on occasion."

  "So I have observed," said Rendel.

  "But really, you know," Wentworth went on, "this is too much. What doyou intend to do?"

  "What do I intend to do?" Rendel said, with a half smile, thenunconsciously imparting a greater steadfastness into his expression,"broadly speaking, I intend to do--everything."

  "Oh! well, there's hope for you still," Wentworth said, "if that is yourintention. It's rather a large order, though."

  "Well, as I have told you before," Rendel said, "I don't see why thereshould be any limit to one's intentions. The man who intends little isnot likely to achieve much."

  "That's all very well, and plausible enough, I dare say," saidWentworth, "but the way to achieve is not to begin by refusing all yourchances."

  "This is too delightful from you," said Rendel, "who never do anythingat all."

  "Not at all," said Wentworth. "It is on principle that I do nothing, inorder to protest against other people doing too much. I wish to have aneight hours' day of elegant leisure, and to go about the world as anexample of it. It would be just as inconsistent of me to accept aregular occupation as it is of you to refuse it."

  "I have a very simple reason for refusing this," said Rendel moreseriously, and he paused. "I am a married man."

  "To be sure, my dear fellow," said Wentworth, "I have noticed it."

  "My wife didn't want to go to Africa," said Rendel, "and there was anend of it."

  "Oh, that was the end of it?" said Wentworth.

  "Absolutely," said Rendel. "She did not want to leave her father."

  "Ah, is that it?" said Wentworth, feeling that he could not decentlyadvance an urgent plea against Sir William. "Poor old man! I know he'sgone to pieces frightfully since his wife died--still, couldn't some onehave been found to take care of him?"

  "Hardly any one like Rachel," Rendel said.

  "Naturally," said Wentworth.

  "You know he is living with us?" Rendel said.

  "Is he?" said Wentworth surprised. "Upon my word, Frank, you are a goodson-in-law."

  Rendel ignored the tone of Wentworth's last remark and said quitesimply--

  "Oh! well, there was nothing else to be done. He's been ill, you know,really rather bad; first he had a chill, and then influenza on the topof it. He's frightfully low altogether."

  "But I rather wonder," said Wentworth, "as Mrs. Rendel had her fatherwith her, that you didn't go to Africa without her. Wouldn't that havebeen possible?"

  "No," said Rendel decidedly. "Quite impossible."

  "I should have thought," said Wentworth, "that in these enlightened daysa husband who could not do without his wife was rather a mistake."

  "That may be," said Rendel. "But I think on the whole that the husbandwho can do without her is a greater mistake still."

  "It is a great pity you were not born five hundred years ago," saidWentworth.

  "I should have disliked it particularly," said Rendel. "I should havebeen fighting at Flodden, or Crecy, or somewhere, and I should havebeen too old to marry Rachel, even in these days of well-preservedcentenarians. It is no good, Jack; I am afraid you must leave me to myfolly."

  "Well, well," said Wentworth, agreeing with the word, and thinking tohimself that even the wisest of men looks foolish at times when he hasthe yoke of matrimony across his shoulders; "after all there is to besaid--if we are going to have another war on our hands in Africa, whichHeaven forfend, the time of the statesmen over there is hardly comeyet."

  At this moment the door opened and the two men turned round quickly asRachel came in.

  "Frank," said Rachel. "Should you mind----" Then she stopped as she sawWentworth. "Oh, how do you do, Mr. Wentworth? I didn't know you werehere. Don't let me interrupt you."

  "On the contrary," said Wentworth, "it is I who am interrupting yourhusband."

  "I only came to see, Frank, if you were very busy," she said.

  "I am not at this moment. Do you want me to do anything?"

  "Well, presently, would you play one game of chess with my father? I amnot really good enough to be of much use; it doesn't amuse him to playwith me."

  "Yes," said Rendel. "I have just got one or two letters to write andthen I'll come."

  "I think it would really be better," said Rachel, "if he came in here.It is rather a change for him, you know, to come into a different roomafter having been in the house all day."

  "Just as you like," said Rendel, without much enthusiasm, but alsowithout any noticeable want of it.

  "Well," said Wentworth, "I'm not going to keep you any longer, Frank. Ijust came in to--give you my views about things in general."

  "Thank you," said Rendel, with a smile. "I am much beholden to you forthem."

  "Perhaps you would come up and see my father, Mr. Wentworth," saidRachel, "before you go away?"

  "I shall be delighted," Wentworth said. His feeling towards Sir WilliamGore was kindly on the whole, and the kindliness was intensified at thismoment by compassion, although he could not help resenting a little thatGore should have been an indirect cause of Rendel's refusing whatWentworth considered was the chance of his friend's life. He shook handswith Rendel and prepared to follow Rachel. At this moment a loud, doubleknock resounded upon the hall door with a peremptoriness which must haveinduced an unusual and startling rapidity in the movements of Thacker,Rendel's butler, for almost instantly afterwards he threw open the studydoor with a visible perturbation and excitement in his demeanour,saying--

  "It's Lord Stamfordham, sir, who wants particularly to see you." And toRendel's amazement Lord Stamfordham appeared in the doorway. He bowedto Wentworth, whom he knew slightly, and shook hands with Rachel. Shethen went straight out, followed by Wentworth. As the door closed behindthem, Stamfordham, answering Rendel's look of inquiry and withoutwaiting for any interchange of greetings, said hurriedly--

  "Rendel, I want you to do me a service."

  "Please command me," Rendel said quickly, looking straight at him. Hefelt his heart beat as Stamfordham paused, put his hat down on thetable, too
k his pocket-book out of his breast pocket and a folded paperout of it.

  "I want you," he said, "to transcribe some pencil notes of mine."

  "You want _me_ to transcribe them?" said Rendel, with an involuntaryinflection of surprise in his tone.

  "Yes, if you will," said Stamfordham. "The fact is, Marchmont, the onlyman I have had since you left me who can read my writing when I takerough pencil notes in a hurry, has collapsed just to-day, out of sheerexcitement I believe, and because he sat up for one night writing."

  "Poor fellow!" said Rendel, half to himself.

  "Yes," said Stamfordham drily; and then he went on, as one who knowsthat he must leave the sick and wounded behind without waiting to pitythem. "These," unfolding the paper, "are notes of a conversation that Ihave just had at the German Embassy with Bergowitz." Rendel's quickmovement as he heard the name showed that he realised what thatjuxtaposition meant at such a moment. "Every moment is precious,"Stamfordham went on, "and it suddenly dawned on me as I left the Embassythat you were close at hand and might be willing to do it."

  The German Embassy was at the moment, during some building operations,occupying temporary premises near Belgrave Square.

  "I should think so indeed," Rendel said eagerly.

  "The notes are very short, as you see," said Stamfordham. "You know, ofcourse, what has been happening. I needn't go into that." And as hespoke a boy passed under the windows crying the evening papers, and theydistinctly heard "Panic on the Stock Exchange." The two men's eyes met.

  "Yes, there is a panic on the Stock Exchange," Stamfordham said,"because every one thinks there will be war--but there probably won't."

  "Not?" said Rendel. "Can it be stopped?"

  Stamfordham answered him by unfolding the piece of paper and laying itdown before him on the table. It was a map of Africa, roughly outlined,but still clearly enough to show unmistakably what it was intended toconvey, for all down the map from north to south there was a thick linedrawn to the west of the Cape to Cairo Railway--the latter beingindicated, but more faintly, in pencil--starting at Alexandria andrunning down through the whole of the continent, bending slightly to thesouthward between Bechuanaland and Namaqualand, and ending at theOrange River. East of that line was written ENGLAND, west of it GERMANY,and below it some lines of almost illegible writing in pencil.

  Rendel almost gasped.

  "What?" he said; "a partition of Africa?"

  "Yes," said Stamfordham. Then he said with a sort of half smile, "Thepartition, that is to say, so far as it is in our own hands. But,"speaking rapidly, "I will just put you in possession of the facts of thecase and give you the clue. We abandon to Germany everything that wehave a claim to west of this line. It does not come to very much," inanswer to an involuntary movement on Rendel's part; and he swept hishand across the coast of the Gulf of Guinea as though wiping out ofexistence the Gold Coast, Ashanti, Sierra Leone, and all that hadmattered before. "Germany abandons to us everything that she lays claimto on the east of it, including therefore the whole course of the Capeto Cairo Railway."

  "But has Germany agreed?" said Rendel, stupefied with surprise.

  "Germany has agreed," said Stamfordham. "We have just heard fromBerlin."

  Rendel felt as if his breath were taken away by the rapid motion of theevents.

  "That means peace, then?" he said.

  "Yes," Stamfordham said; "peace."

  "Then when is this going to be given to the world?" said Rendel.

  "Some of it possibly to-morrow," said Stamfordham. "The Cabinet Councilwill meet this evening, and the King's formal sanction obtained. Ofcourse," he went on, "the broad outlines only will be published--thefact of the understanding at any rate, not necessarily the terms of thepartition. But it is important for financial reasons that the countryshould know as soon as possible that war is averted."

  "Of course, of course," said Rendel. "Immeasurably important."

  Stamfordham took up his hat and held out his hand with his air ofcourtly politeness as he turned towards the door.

  "I may count upon you to do this for me immediately?"

  "This instant," said Rendel, taking up the papers. "Shall I take them toyour house as soon as they are done?"

  "Please," said Stamfordham. "No, stay--I am going back to the GermanEmbassy now, then probably to the Foreign Office. You had better simplysend a messenger you can rely upon, and tell him to wait at my house togive them into my own hand, as I am not sure where I shall be for thenext hour. Rendel, I must ask you by all you hold sacred to take care ofthose papers. If that map were to be caught sight of before thetime----"

  Rendel involuntarily held it tighter at the thought of such acatastrophe.

  "Good Heavens!--yes," he said. "But that shan't happen. Look," and hedropped the paper through the slit in the closed revolving corner ofhis large writing-table, a cover that was solidly locked with his ownkey so that, though papers could be put in through the slit, it wasimpossible to take them out again without unlocking the cover andlifting it up. "This is the only key," he said, showing his bunch. "Nowthen, they are perfectly safe while I go across the hall with you."

  Stamfordham nodded.

  "By the way," he said, pausing, "you are married now, Rendel...."

  "I am, yes, I am glad to say," Rendel replied.

  "To be sure," said Stamfordham, with a little bow conveying discreetcongratulation. "But--remember that a married man sometimes tellssecrets to his wife."

  "Does he, sir?" said Rendel, with an air of assumed innocence.

  "I believe I have heard so," said Stamfordham.

  "On the other hand," said Rendel, "I also have heard that a married mansometimes keeps secrets from his wife."

  "Oh well, that is better," said Stamfordham.

  "From some points of view, perhaps," said Rendel. Then he added moreseriously, "You may be quite sure, sir, that no one--_no one_--in thishouse shall know about those papers. I would give you my word of honour,but I don't suppose it would make my assertion any stronger."

  "If you said nothing," said Stamfordham, "it would be enough;" andRendel's heart glowed within him as their eyes met and the compact wasratified. "By the way, Rendel, there was one thing more I wanted to sayto you. There will probably be a vacancy at Stoke Newton before long;aren't you going into the House?"

  "Some time," said Rendel. "When I get a chance."

  "Well, there is going to be a chance now," said Stamfordham. "OldCrawley is going to resign. I hear it from private sources; the worlddoesn't know it yet. It is a safe Imperialist seat, and in our part ofthe world."

  "I should like very much to try," said Rendel, forcing himself to speakquietly.

  "Suppose you write to our committee down there?" said Stamfordham. "Thatis, when you have done your more pressing business--I mean mine."

  "That shall come before everything else," Rendel said. "I will do it atthis moment."

  He turned quickly back into his study after Stamfordham had left him,and unlocked and threw up the revolving cover of the writing-tablehastily, for fear that something should have happened to the paper onwhich the destinies of the civilised world were hanging. There it was,safe in his keeping, his and nobody else's. He took it in his hand andfor a moment walked up and down the room, unable to control himself,trying to realise the tremendous change in the aspect of his fortunesthat had taken place in the last half-hour. Then he had seemed tohimself in the backwater, out of the throng of existence. He had beentrying to reconcile himself to the idea that he was "out of it," as hehad put it to himself--left behind. And now he shared with the two greatpotentates of the world the knowledge of what was going to take place;it was his hand that should transcribe the words that had decided it; hewas a witness, and so far the only one. Then with an effort he forcedhimself to be calm. Every minute was of importance. He sat down at thewriting-table, took up the paper, and pored over it to try todisentangle the strange dots, scratches, and lines which, flowing fromStamfordham's pen, took the place of handwri
ting. Some ill-naturedpeople said that Stamfordham was quite conscious of the advantage ofhaving writing which could not be read without a close scrutiny. It wasno doubt possible. However, having the clue to what the contents of thepaper were, Rendel, to his immense relief, found that he could decipherit. As he was writing the first word of the fair copy the door of thestudy opened slowly, and Sir William Gore appeared on the threshold, anewspaper in his hand.