CHAPTER VIII
"Tell me, Mr. Lessingham," Philippa insisted, "exactly what are youthinking of? You looked so dark and mysterious from the ridge below thatI've climbed up on purpose to ask you."
Lessingham held out his hand to steady her. They were standing ona sharp spur of the cliffs, the north wind blowing in their faces,thrashing into little flecks of white foam the sea below, on which thetwilight was already resting. For a moment or two neither of them couldspeak.
"I was thinking of my country," he confessed. "I was looking through theshadows there, right across the North Sea."
"To Germany?"
He shook his head.
"Further away--to Sweden."
"I forgot," she murmured. "You looked as though you were posing for astatue of some one in exile," she observed. "Come, let us go a littlelower down--unless you want to stay here and be blown to pieces."
"I was on my way back to the hotel," he answered quickly, as he followedher lead, "but to tell you the truth I was feeling a little lonely."
"That," she declared, "is your own fault. I asked you to come toMainsail Haul whenever you felt inclined."
"As I have felt inclined ever since the evening I arrived," he remarkedwith a smile, "you might, perhaps, by this time have had a little toomuch of me."
"On the contrary," she told him, "I quite expected you yesterdayafternoon, to tell me how you like the place and what you have beendoing. So you were thinking about--over there?" she added, moving herhead seawards.
"Over there absorbs a great deal of one's thoughts," he confessed, "andthe rest of them have been playing me queer tricks."
"Well, I should like to hear about the first half," she insisted.
"Do you know," he replied, "there are times when even now this war seemsto me like an unreal thing, like something I have been reading about,some wild imagining of Shelley or one of the unrestrainable poets. Ican't believe that millions of the flower of Germany's manhood andyours have perished helplessly, hopelessly, cruelly. And France--poordecimated France!"
"Well, Germany started the war, you know," she reminded him.
"Did she?" he answered. "I sometimes wonder. Even now I fancy, if theofficial papers of every one of the nations lay side by side, with theirown case stated from their own point of view, even you might feel alittle confused about that. Still, I am going to be very honest withyou. I think myself that Germany wanted war."
"There you are, then," she declared triumphantly. "The whole thing isher responsibility."
"I do not quite go so far as that," he protested. "You see, the world isgoverned by great natural laws. As a snowball grows larger with rolling,so it takes up more room. As a child grows out of its infant clothes, itneeds the vestments of a youth and then a man. And so with Germany. Shegrew and grew until the country could not hold her children, until herbanks could not contain her money, until she stretched her arms out onevery side and felt herself stifled. Germany came late into the worldand found it parcelled out, but had she not a right to her place? Shemade herself great. She needed space."
"Well," Philippa observed, "you couldn't suppose that other nationswere going to give up what they had, just because she wanted theirpossessions, could you?"
"Perhaps not," he admitted. "And yet, you see, the immutable law comesin here. The stronger must possess--not only the stronger by arms,mind, but by intellect, by learning, by proficiency in science, byutilitarianism. The really cruel part, the part I was thinking of then,as I looked out across the sea, is that this crude and miserable resortto arms should be necessary."
"If only Germans themselves were as broad-minded and reasonable asyou," Philippa sighed, "one feels that there might be some hope for thefuture!"
"I am not alone," he assured her, "but, you see, all over Germany thereis spread like a spider's web the lay religion of the citizen--devotionto the Government, blind obedience to the Kaiser. Independent thoughthas made Germany great in science, in political economy, in economics.But independent thought is never turned towards her political destinies.Those are shaped for her. For good or for evil her children have learntobedience."
They were descending the hillside now. At their feet lay the littletown, black and silent.
"You have helped me to understand a little," Philippa said. "You putthings so gently and yet so clearly. Now tell me, will you not, how itis that you, who are a Swede by birth, are bearing arms for Germany?"
"That is very simple," he confessed. "My mother was a German, and whenshe died she bequeathed to me large estates in Bavaria, and a veryconsiderable fortune. These I could never have inherited unless Ihad chosen to do my military service in Germany. My family is animpoverished one, and I have brothers and sisters dependent upon me.Under the circumstances, hesitation on my part was impossible."
"But when the war came?" she queried.
He looked at her in surprise.
"What was there left for me then?" he demanded. "Naturally I heardnothing but the voice of those whom I had sworn to obey. I was in thatmad rush through Belgium. I was wounded at Maubeuge, or else I shouldhave followed hard on the heels of that wonderful retreat of yours.As it was, I lay for many months in hospital. I joined again--shall Iconfess it?--almost unwillingly. The bloodthirstiness of it all sickenedme. I fought at Ypres, but I think that it was something of the courageof despair, of black misery. I was wounded again and decorated. Isuppose I shall never be fit for the front again. I tried to turn toaccount some of my knowledge of England and English life. Then they sentme here."
"Here, of all places in the world!" Philippa repeated wonderingly."Just look at us! We have a single line of railway, a perfectlystraightforward system of roads, the ordinary number of soldiers beingtrained, no mysteries, no industries--nothing. What terrible scheme areyou at work upon, Mr. Lessingham?"
He smiled.
"Between you and me," he confided, "I am not at all sure that I am nothere on a fool's errand--at least I thought so when I arrived."
She glanced up at him.
"And why not now?"
He made no answer, but their eyes met and Philippa looked hurriedlyaway. There was a moment's queer, strained silence. Before them loomedup the outline of Mainsail Haul.
"You will come in and have some tea, won't you?" she invited.
"If I may. Believe me," he added, "it has only been a certain diffidencethat has kept me away so long."
She made no reply, and they entered the house together. They found Helenand Nora, with three or four young men from the Depot, having tea in thedrawing-room. Lessingham slipped very easily into the pleasant littlecircle. If a trifle subdued, his quiet manners, and a sense of humourwhich every now and then displayed itself, were most attractive.
"Wish you'd come and dine with us and meet our colonel, sir," Harrisonasked him. "He was at Magdalen a few years after Major Felstead, and Iam sure you'd find plenty to talk about."
"I am quite sure that we should," Lessingham replied. "May I come,perhaps, towards the end of next week? I am making most strenuousefforts to lead an absolutely quiet life here."
"Whenever you like, sir. We sha'n't be able to show you anything verywild in the way of dissipation. Vintage port and a decent cigar are theonly changes we can make for guests."
Philippa drew her visitor on one side presently, and made him sit withher in a distant corner of the room.
"I knew there was something I wanted to say to you," she began, "butsomehow or other I forgot when I met you. My husband was very muchstruck with Helen's improved spirits. Don't you think that we had bettertell him, when he returns, that we had heard from Major Felstead?"
Lessingham agreed.
"Just let him think that your letters came by post in the ordinary way,"he advised. "I shouldn't imagine, from what I have seen of your husband,that he is a suspicious person, but it is just possible that he mighthave associated them with me if you had mentioned them the other night.When is he coming back?"
"I never know," Philippa answ
ered with a sigh. "Perhaps to-night,perhaps in a week. It depends upon what sport he is having. You are notsmoking."
Lessingham lit a cigarette.
"I find your husband," he said quietly, "rather an interesting type. Wehave no one like that in Germany. He almost puzzles me."
Philippa glanced up to find her companion's dark eyes fixed upon her.
"There is very little about Henry that need puzzle any one," shecomplained bitterly. "He is just an overgrown, spoilt child, devoted toamusements, and following his fancy wherever it leads him. Why doyou look at me, Mr. Lessingham, as though you thought I was keepingsomething back? I am not, I can assure you."
"Perhaps I was wondering," he confessed, "how you really felt towards ahusband whose outlook was so unnatural."
She looked down at her intertwined fingers.
"Do you know," she said softly, "I feel, somehow or other, although wehave known one another such a short time, as though we were friends,and yet that is a question which I could not answer. A woman must alwayshave some secrets, you know."
"A man may try sometimes to preserve his," he sighed, "but a woman isclever enough, as a rule, to dig them out."
A faint tinge of colour stole into her cheeks. She welcomed Helen'sapproach almost eagerly.
"A woman must first feel the will," she murmured, without glancing athim. "Helen, do you think we dare ask Mr. Lessingham to come and dine?"
"Please do not discourage such a delightful suggestion," Lessinghambegged eagerly.
"I haven't the least idea of doing so," Helen laughed, "so long as I mayhave--say just ten minutes to talk about Dick."
"It is a bargain," he promised.
"We shall be quite alone," Philippa warned him, "unless Henry arrives."
"It is the great attraction of your invitation," he confessed.
"At eight o'clock, then."
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