LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE 
 
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 Ex Libris 
 ISAAC FOOT
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD
 
 New Six Shilling Volumes 
 
 OF HUMAN BONDAGE 
 
 By WILLIAM SOMERSET MAUGHAM 
 
 THE FREELANDS 
 
 By JOHN GALSWORTHY 
 
 MUSLIN 
 
 By GEORGE MOORE 
 
 OFF SANDY HOOK 
 By RICHARD DEHAN 
 
 GARFRAE'S COMEDY 
 
 By GLADYS PARRISH 
 
 THE IMMORTAL GYMNASTS 
 By MARIE CHER 
 
 THE BOTTLE FILLERS 
 By EDWARD NOBLE 
 
 THE PUSH ON THE S.S. 'GLORY' 
 
 By FREDERICK NIVEN. Illustrated 
 LONDON : WILLIAM HEINE MANN
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 A DARK BULK LOOMED IN THE PASSAGE
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 
 
 BY 
 
 -1 I 
 
 
 MAURICE HEWLETT 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 SIR PHILIP BURNE-JONES, Bart. 
 
 " There were four brothers 
 loved one lass " 
 
 Cormac and Strangerd 
 
 LONDON 
 WILLIAM HEINEMANN
 
 London : William Heinemann, 1915
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. INITIATION 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 II. ILLUMINATION 
 
 15 
 
 III. IMPLICATION 
 
 33 
 
 IV. INTENTION 
 
 46 
 
 V. INVERORAN 
 
 61 
 
 VI. THE STATE VISIT 
 
 76 
 
 VII. SETTLING IN 
 
 88 
 
 VIII. EUPHEMIA 
 
 101 
 
 IX. THE BALL 
 
 109 
 
 X. SEQUELS 
 
 120 
 
 XL THE FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 131 
 
 XII. HELENA FLIES 
 
 146 
 
 XIII. ASYLUM 
 
 165 
 
 XIV. DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 174 
 
 XV. INTERRUPTION 
 
 184 
 
 XVI. THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 201 
 
 XVII. HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 212
 
 CONTENTS vi 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XVIII. BATTLE SWAYS 226 
 
 XIX. AMAZEMENT OF HECTOR 245 
 
 XX. PIERPOINT 254 
 
 XXI. SURRENDER 267 
 
 XXII. PASSION OF SIR RODERICK 276 
 
 XXIII. THE END OF IT ALL 286
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 A DARK BULK LOOMED IN THE PASSAGE Frontispiece 
 
 To face 
 page 
 
 And pretty soon I heard the two sticks and 
 
 guessed at the dragging glide 82 
 
 We retired, feeling what we deserved to feel 204. 
 Out of the dark came a white figure 220
 
 I: INITIATION 
 
 I am sure that such things as I have to relate 
 in these chapters — things of which I was the 
 concerned witness from beginning to end — 
 could not happen in any country of Europe 
 but my own, a country where respect for things 
 in being is carried to the other side of idolatry, 
 and where, at the same time, you may see 
 men, and even communities of men, run head- 
 long down steep places to destruction in pur- 
 suit of abstract ideas, and win in the ridiculous 
 act the admiration and respect of those to 
 whom the ideas themselves are shocking. A 
 Briton, you admit, reveres established order, 
 fears God, honours the King, loves his father 
 and mother, &c. So he does. But say that 
 a man knocks his head against established 
 order — sufficiently hard ; say that he perishes 
 for atheism's sake, is exiled for his nihilism, 
 disputes his father's will, to bankruptcy, or 
 runs away with his neighbour's wife on altru- 
 istic grounds — that man, when he has been 
 disposed of with savagery, may easily become
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 
 
 a national hero. We say that it's dogged that 
 does it, that he is a True Blue, a hard-bitten 
 man. If he is a poet, he becomes a classic. 
 If he is a politician, he founds a party, and 
 his name inflames men to dangerous cheering. 
 To be short, we adore the thing that is, 
 because it is ; and we adore the man who 
 tries to destroy it, not because he succeeds, 
 but because he tries. It's all very odd. 
 
 But sentiment, which in England carries 
 its head so high, carries also lance and shield, 
 and presents a brave front to the wind and the 
 rain. The harder, indeed, it blows, the more 
 bravely pricks the gentle knight. It is fair 
 weather that brings him down. For he carries 
 with him, too, his own bane ; a little worm 
 which gropes a way into his marrow, and 
 inflames the optic nerve. 
 
 When Hector Malleson went out to set the 
 world into order it was not riot or clamour 
 that loosened his knees. On the contrary, 
 the extreme lengths to which the romantic 
 led him were in themselves a warrant of 
 success. He was in fact too successful. All 
 fell out as he could have desired. He achieved 
 a preposterous position for himself and his 
 mistress. He bestrode a bottomless gulf with 
 triumphant intrepidity. The world wondered.
 
 INITIATION 
 
 And then, even as we gaped, he sagged in the 
 middle and fell in. The affair which he had 
 begun went on of itself. It was as if the 
 champion of Troy, instead of going out to 
 face Achilles, had stayed at home with the 
 toothache, and left the affair to Priam, King 
 and Patriarch. That was what happened in 
 this leaguer of a minor Troy, which I chronicle 
 here. A maggot entered my poor Hector and 
 palsied his blow. You see, I scorn conceal- 
 ment. I lay out my wares on the tray. I 
 could even tell you the name of the maggot, 
 but that you have guessed it for yourself. 
 
 I remember talking about these very things 
 to Hector Malleson on one of our annual 
 journeys over the Continent, of which Great 
 Britain is so discordant a member — long before 
 the events which I am going to write about 
 now were in solution. We were driving up 
 and down those huge circular sweeps of road 
 which take you in time, though you don't at 
 the time believe it, over the Jura ; and were 
 talking, to be exact, about the power of love 
 to " make or mar the foolish fates." Hector, 
 dear, absurd fellow, was one of those men 
 who when they are in love cannot conceive 
 that they ever were or ever will be out of it
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 4 
 
 again, and when they are not (which happens 
 quite as often) do not believe that they ever 
 were. At the moment he was not in love ; 
 he had, in fact, just escaped a rather bad 
 attack in London with a young and very pretty 
 widow, a black-haired woman with a magnolia- 
 skin and the appurtenances thereof. She 
 sailed, rather suddenly, to Buenos Ayres, and 
 left him like Ariadne in Naxos. It was tonic. 
 He shook himself, shuddered, and foreswore 
 love. 
 
 Now, in the Jura, he was telling me with 
 all seriousness that no great man, " no man 
 born to great destinies," as he put it, had 
 ever risked his greatness for a woman. Not 
 being concerned to affirm or deny, I didn't 
 go far afield for my example, but mentioned 
 Paris, the " woman-haunting cheat," who is 
 surely the type. Paris, of course, will only 
 support a very light-hearted argument ; but 
 he took him on for more than he was worth, 
 being Hector Malleson ; he took him histori- 
 cally, and disposed of him thus. " Paris," 
 he said, " is obviously your man " — as if I 
 wanted a man ! — " but he won't help you. 
 Paris, to begin with, was not Priam's heir. 
 Hector was the heir. I think that is obvious 
 in the name given to his son by the people —
 
 INITIATION 
 
 
 Astyanax, they called him : King of the city. 
 That was proleptic. That is allowed in 
 poetry." 
 
 I said that he ought to know — for he was 
 by way of being a poet himself. That also 
 he took gravely, and I remember how he sat, 
 with an outline something between an inter- 
 rogation and an exclamation-mark, drawn up 
 stiffly to his slim height, with his hands pointed 
 between his knees. 
 
 Paris has been misunderstood," he said. 
 
 He has been taken for a sensualist, but 
 wrongly. He was a great idealist. He risked 
 his father's kingdom and dared ten years of 
 war for the sake of an idea. Now that's a 
 very different sort of thing. Many a man 
 has been eaten by worms for that — but not 
 for love." I felt rather than heard the tremor 
 in his voice. 
 
 " And what was Paris's idea, according to 
 you ? " I asked him. 
 
 He replied immediately. " The profanation 
 of Beauty. He risked everything to prevent 
 that. And he was right. If he had been 
 Crown Prince of Troy he could have done 
 no less." 
 
 Now Hector was a Crown Prince in his way. 
 He was the eldest son and heir of Sir Roderick
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 6 
 
 Malleson, Bart., of Singleton and Inveroran, 
 in the Western Highlands — to the permanent 
 bewilderment, let me add, of that royal-eyed 
 old Berserk himself. So you may say that 
 he measured his words. But he always did 
 that. He was the most serious young man 
 in the world, and one of the most ridiculous. 
 Men of extreme positions — and he was one 
 of them, for ever at the end of the bough or 
 the top of the pole — must always appear that 
 to us who are snugly by the hearth. It is 
 gallantry that carries them there, and only 
 human nature that makes them see-saw for 
 a balance. But the effort is ungraceful, and 
 we smile. 
 
 I was awfully fond of Hector. He was as 
 good as gold, as the saying is. But he was 
 the cause of infinite chucklement to me, and 
 sometimes he brought me tears — or something 
 very much like tears. Himself, he never 
 laughed. 
 
 I remember that conversation perfectly, and 
 can see him with his thin olive face and heavy 
 eyes, his slim gallantry and air of a lost cause 
 — only too well. But it took place many years 
 before we met the von Broderodes. Many 
 things happened to Hector Malleson in the 
 interval ; many a touch-and-go affair was
 
 INITIATION 
 
 ^ 
 
 hit upon and just missed ; many a stormy- 
 interview with Sir Roderick flashed and vol- 
 leyed through Inveroran, and died away in 
 mutter ings among the hills up there. They 
 made a great rumpus at the time, and had 
 Hector at the edge of the world contemplating 
 infinity with tragic eyes as often as you please ; 
 they divided the great patriarchal house into 
 hostile camps, so that sometimes you had 
 Hector and half of his brothers breakfasting 
 and dining in the East Wing, while his father 
 and a remnant held the hall, like a citadel, 
 and commanded the supplies. There was one 
 occasion — I mean when Mrs. Gellaghtly, a 
 sprightly American, was there. She lifted her 
 fair foot once and struck a match on the sole 
 of her shoe. One saw — well, one had to look 
 out of the window. And then she got lost 
 in the forest with Pierpoint and came back 
 to breakfast as if nothing had happened — 
 as perhaps it did not. There was that one 
 occasion, I say, when I really thought the 
 House of Inveroran was rocked to the founda- 
 tions. Hector, who had brought the lady 
 upon us, had gone bail for her, you may say, 
 and even at this eleventh hour was her cham- 
 pion, shook the dust off his brogues and 
 vanished ; two of his brothers went with
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 8 
 
 him. The situation was saved by Mrs. Gel- 
 laghtly herself, who did not vanish — and by 
 Mr. Gellaghtly, an elderly, very thin person 
 in a frock-coat and white tie, who came and 
 lived unmoved through an electric twenty-four 
 hours. She called him " hub " and perched 
 upon his narrow knees. She was like — or 
 looked like — a speckled hen sitting on a fence ; 
 it was daring, and entirely successful. Sir 
 Roderick simmered down, Hector wrote a 
 long letter on foreign notepaper from Madeira 
 or somewhere of the sort, and all was peace 
 again. He came up to Inveroran for Christ- 
 mas. That was the last of his eruptions for 
 at least a year and a half. Indeed, affairs had 
 gone with perilous smoothness up to the spring 
 when we were abroad together, and met the 
 von Broderodes. Then, indeed, the casting 
 of threads began which were to involve us 
 all in a pretty plexus. To that I must now 
 address myself. 
 
 The thing began in a watering-place, to 
 call it so, in the South of Central Europe, in 
 a place which I need not particularize further 
 than by saying that on the edge of a beautiful 
 lake, under the guard of solemn and slumberous 
 mountains, the greed of man to secure the
 
 9 INITIATION 
 
 shillings of his stupid fellows has done his 
 worst to soil the one and flout the other. The 
 description, I confess, is general ; but I don't 
 care to go any closer to it for obvious reasons. 
 The thing began, as such things, in my 
 belief, always do begin, in a flash. A blink 
 of the eyes and there is nothing ; a blink of 
 the eyes and there is this life and the next, 
 the hope of heaven and the yawn of hell. 
 How is it that at one minute you are looking 
 at familiar things — ducks in a pond, a man 
 and woman talking, a boy in a bath-chair 
 and a girl walking beside it — and at another 
 you see upon them the light that never was ? 
 What has happened that the heart is touched, 
 trembles to tears ? The thing is done, all 
 your life-scheme is changed. What sudden 
 glory floods your day with the implication of 
 God ? What stab of the heart brings it about 
 that you are not the man, nor she the woman, 
 you were a moment ago ? Whence comes a 
 glory upon her, a sanctity ? The particles, 
 the flesh and bone, the hair and skin have 
 been rearranged, transfigured. You yourself 
 now thrill like an iEolian harp ; and as for 
 her, she is garmented with light. There's no 
 explaining a thing of the sort. It is not — 
 and then it is. It has never been so yet to
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 10 
 
 me. My time's to come. But it happened 
 to Hector about once a year. He was a great 
 hand at miracles. 
 
 I had been at this place — let us call it 
 Gironeggio at once and have done with it — 
 with Hector Malleson for a week or so of fine 
 April weather : misty mornings clearing to 
 burning noons, weather of magnolias in a 
 riot of bloom, of corn already knee-high, of 
 blue fields of flax, of roses dusty with the 
 foul traffic of man in his roads. There was 
 nothing to do but be glad of it all, take it all 
 in through the pores. One felt, after a London 
 February and March, as if one had earned 
 it. I think we intended to have another ten 
 days there at least before we addressed our- 
 selves to the small cities of Lombardy, where I 
 intended to archaeologize and Malleson to read 
 history. If only he had read history instead of 
 made it ! But you never know your luck. 
 There were Modena and Parma and Cremona 
 gaping for him — and he must choose the 
 primrose path ! 
 
 However, Gironeggio was very pleasant, and 
 the particular Majestic Palace where we were 
 lodged was better than most, being, in fact, 
 less majestic. But it was full. The English
 
 11 INITIATION 
 
 were, as usual, mostly of two professions. 
 Every one of them seemed to be either barrister 
 or schoolmaster ; all of them were engaged 
 in climbing the mountain or collecting, with 
 avid haste, plants which they could slay at 
 their leisure in Thames-valley or Kent-coast 
 rockeries. They were a brisk and wholesome 
 company, but not illuminating, unless you 
 like your light very dry. Their wives, short- 
 skirted and clump-soled, flat of figure and 
 tanned of face, accompanied them, severe and 
 uncompromising matrons with views as decided 
 as their petticoats. I liked their daughters 
 best, who looked like boys all day, and 
 dressed for dinner as if they were going to a 
 children's party afterwards. Malleson got on 
 well with them, because he was perfectly 
 serious and had no self-consciousness. They, 
 having enough for six, found him easy. The 
 rest of our company were Germans ; but of 
 them, so delightful at home, so devastating 
 abroad, with their exaggerated politeness and 
 latent brutality, I must speak with reserve — 
 because we became involved with Germans. 
 We found out for how little race counts when 
 the particles have been rearranged by the 
 Lady Fates — and also for how much. 
 
 But people fall easily into types ; and for
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 12 
 
 a week neither Malleson nor I took the trouble 
 to get them into narrower categories. IJvery 
 fat man with a rolled neck who made jokes 
 and punctuated them with bowing salutations 
 from the hips seemed to be German ; every 
 dark man with large ears and handsome and 
 bulky ladies attached to his person we took 
 for a Jew ; every man with a ragged beard 
 and mild eyes was a Russian . . . and so 
 forth. When you came to know these people 
 well enough to take liberties with their faces, 
 you could sort them out. By a process of 
 weeding you discarded the uninteresting or 
 the obvious. And just as, by gazing steadily 
 into the dusk, things emerge which you did 
 not remark at first encounter, so it is with 
 a crowd of people : a face suddenly looms 
 and seems to cry to you. And then, in a 
 minute, you are hard up against a mystery 
 or a romance. 
 
 Now all this preamble is to explain how 
 it is that a couple of people in that hotel had 
 been in front of us for a week of days before 
 we considered them, or so much as knew they 
 were there. When I did become conscious of 
 them I judged that they had been there some 
 time. They had the air of habitues. They 
 seemed to have cushioned out for themselves
 
 13 INITIATION 
 
 corners in the rigid discomfort of our majestic 
 palace. They always occupied the same places, 
 at the same hours. The waiters brought them, 
 without orders, the same things at the same 
 moments every day. Her egg-and-milk at 
 ten-thirty : she took it in the garden. At 
 eleven she gave him her arm and took him 
 off to walk. She had tea and lemon at four ; 
 he had absinthe. After dinner, at a fixed 
 moment, came his coffee and cognac ; then 
 his tumbler of strong waters. It was all so 
 regular, and so dull, that you had, when once 
 you had remarked upon it, to go on watching 
 it. It became a fascination. You began to 
 understand that they lived by clockwork ; 
 hour to hour was struck by something to be 
 done, eaten or prepared for eating, slept upon, 
 walked in, taken off a peg, or hung up on 
 one. The regularity of it absorbed you. You 
 used, as a working hypothesis, the belief that 
 these were not real people, but automata ; 
 and when you had to discard that by some 
 unexpected flash or flicker you wondered how 
 they could go on doing it and not go mad. 
 And finally you judged that severe routine 
 may as easily keep you from going mad as 
 send you so. 
 I don't pretend to say — I never asked him —
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 14 
 
 whether observation on Hector's part preceded 
 discovery ; whether, that is, facts of these 
 people's daily life slowly accumulated like a 
 pile of kindling, and then, perhaps, broke into 
 fire by their own pressure and mass ; or 
 whether he himself brought the burning glass 
 and by the light of that revealed and fired 
 the dreadful dry heap. I really don't know 
 exactly how it was that the underlying, the 
 recluded heart of the thing stood nakedly before 
 his ingenuous, but quite candid, gaze. My own 
 observation of the pair followed on his con- 
 cernment with them. All I need say now is 
 that on the evening arranged by the Fates 
 I came down dressed for dinner and found him 
 concerned — up to the neck.
 
 II: ILLUMINATION 
 
 Hector was dressed before I was half-way- 
 through my bath. I know that because I 
 heard him throw his boots down and then 
 bang his door. On my way downstairs to 
 the hall where we used to assemble I saw him 
 leaning against a pillar. He was scowling ; 
 but he couldn't help that — that was facial : 
 otherwise he might have been saying his 
 prayers or (which is the same thing with his 
 sort) looking at a woman. His eyes were 
 grey, and looked black at night. People — 
 even women — thought him a black-eyed man. 
 He was thin, sallow, elegant, and had jet- 
 black hair. Not so good-looking as all that 
 came to, he had a trustworthy face because 
 it was essentially a simple one. You knew 
 where you were with a face like that ; you 
 knew that it disguised nothing ; you felt that 
 there was nothing to disguise. Again, he had 
 a caressing manner. I found him soothing — 
 I knew a great many others did. Then he 
 had good teeth, and a singularly sweet smile. 
 
 15
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 16 
 
 It was that in particular which saved him 
 from the acute crisis frequently brought on 
 him by his want of tact. For tactlessness 
 he was without a peer. You would have 
 thought men and women centipedes from the 
 havoc Hector did among their toes. As for 
 his own treadings, he would have made a 
 faux pas on the Last Day. But his smile 
 saved him : that never failed. And he was 
 a lovable creature. If he made more enemies 
 than were good for any man, he turned them 
 all into friends — which was perhaps worse. 
 Bless him, anyhow, for a donkey, the most 
 sincere, irresistible, serious-minded, enthusi- 
 astic, impracticable donkey that ever brought 
 a stick about his ears. 
 
 But all this is a digression. He tempts 
 me to parentheses ; but it is the fact that 
 he was looking at a woman. He and she 
 were conspicuous in a hall which even then 
 was three parts full of diners, moving about, 
 hailing each other, recounting the prowesses 
 of the day or the schemes for to-morrow. 
 Certainly I had not seen her before or I think 
 I must have remarked her. A tallish woman, 
 she was ; pale, with a face like a star. That 
 is poetry perhaps — it is, to be just to him, 
 Hector's poetry — but like all poetry it is
 
 17 ILLUMINATION 
 
 true. She had a starry face, a kind of divine, 
 remote limpidity, as if she smiled in her own 
 atmosphere, apart from the dust and heat of 
 ours. She carried herself rarely, and though 
 she was plainly dressed she had the air of 
 jewels about her — especially in her hair. I 
 mean that her head seemed to be lifting a 
 coronet. Her hair was dark, lustrous and 
 abundant, smooth over her brows, heavily 
 looped and bunched behind. It was like a 
 hood to her, thrown back to rest upon the 
 nape and shoulders. I suppose that she really 
 was tall, but being modestly formed she did 
 not look her height. Her matronly air was 
 seated in her eyes and lips. It was impossible 
 to suppose her unmarried. You couldn't have 
 thought that for a moment. She had no 
 lines on her face ; but I put her down for 
 thirty-five. Malleson in his ardour said thirty, 
 and turned out to be right. She was dressed 
 that evening in black — black silk and lace — 
 without any ornaments but a few rings. I 
 noticed afterwards that she always dressed 
 in black or white — so long, that is, as she 
 remained at Gironeggio. 
 
 I had come down from my part of the house 
 by the lift, which brought me out behind 
 Malleson. The lady stood at the foot of the 
 
 B
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 18 
 
 stairs at the other end of the hall. She was 
 alone, but evidently waiting for a companion. 
 
 44 Austrian," I said over Malleson's shoulder, 
 and made him jump. 
 
 He shook me off in momentary irritation. 
 " You would label the Venus of Milo," he said, 
 and I replied that the Louvre had saved me 
 the trouble, but that I would certainly have 
 done it if necessary. 
 
 44 Such women have no country," Hector 
 said, as if to himself. I suggested the Pays 
 du Tendre ; but I don't think he heard me. 
 
 There were a great many people about, and 
 she was not, I hope, aware of our unaffected 
 interest in her. I trusted then, I am quite 
 sure now, that we were not so conspicuous 
 to her as she was to us. She had, anyhow, 
 that peculiar possession of the well-bred, that 
 power of ignoring what is disagreeable or 
 uncomfortable — of ignoring it out of existence, 
 you may say. She remained where she was, 
 with one hand upon the banister-rail, not so 
 much indifferent to the assemblage about her 
 as independent of it. I don't think she knew 
 that we were there — any of us. Her simplicity 
 was upon her like a panoply, so much so that 
 one was almost provoked by it, conscious of 
 a desire to try it, to find out whether it was
 
 19 ILLUMINATION 
 
 as shock-proof as it seemed. But after a 
 while it reacted upon me, and I felt that we 
 couldn't stop there for ever. 
 
 " Come," I said. " We can't spy upon 
 her." 
 
 Hector murmured some inaudible thing. 
 By this time the diners had begun to flock 
 into the salle a manger, and I saw our common 
 friend Chevenix already at our table. 
 
 " Come along," I repeated. " Chevenix is 
 arranging his table-napkin. I see him at 
 it." 
 
 "Wait," said Malleson. "Wait. Or go 
 if you like. I stay here. I can't come yet." 
 
 At that minute — the hall being nearly 
 emptied of its folk — a dark bulk loomed in 
 the passage beside the stairs which leads from 
 the ground-floor rooms ; and then I heard 
 a peculiar sliding noise, as if one was dragging 
 a weight over the floor. The lady looked 
 quickly round, left her anchorage and stood 
 facing the dining-room doors. This then was 
 her companion : a darkly flushed, bearded 
 man, square-shouldered, round-headed, drag- 
 ging a foot, and moving out of the dark, as 
 it seemed by main force. A wounded monster 
 a maimed Titan, haling himself along. 
 
 He had a stick in each clenched hand, and
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 20 
 
 got along rather than walked. It must have 
 been enormous labour — you could see the 
 muscles grappling with the problem — you 
 could see that each step, indeed, was a new 
 problem ; and yet his eyes were twinkling ; 
 he smiled into the lady's face : he, too, had 
 patience, to cope with hers. I saw the meet- 
 ing of eyes : his laughing to ask, hers not 
 giving, but rather accepting. As he drew 
 level with her she turned, and accommodating 
 her pace to his, together they went into the 
 dining-room. She was built for swiftness, 
 but she curbed herself. I saw his square 
 shoulders doggedly conquering the inches to 
 the table, doggedly dragging that dead weight. 
 
 What more Malleson saw, or what he had 
 seen, I can't tell you. He turned upon me 
 a tragic look. 
 
 " Doom," he said. " A human sacrifice — 
 appointed to live, not to die. I feel sick at 
 the heart." 
 
 He looked as if he was charged with heavy 
 fate — as if all the burden of two unhappy 
 creatures whom he had never seen before in 
 his life had been piled on to his pair of slim 
 shoulders : but I knew him well. I made 
 the best of it, for his sake. 
 
 "It's bad," I admitted. "It's bad, but
 
 21 ILLUMINATION 
 
 it might be worse. Did you see her come 
 into the hall ? " 
 
 He looked at me for a few seconds without 
 speaking Then he nodded his head and 
 looked away. I waited. Presently he said — 
 it was as if I had compelled him — " She 
 came downstairs." It is true, I had intended 
 him to tell me that, as I say, for his own 
 sake. 
 
 " Come," I said ; " we'll go and dine." 
 But he shook me off. 
 
 " Dine as you will. I can't. I shall go 
 out and walk about. I'll get something to 
 eat when I want it. I can't go in there. I 
 don't want to see them again just yet. I 
 tell you I can't afford it." 
 
 I didn't reason with him — why should I ? 
 It would have been foolishness. So I left 
 him and joined the exasperated Chevenix, 
 a copper-headed, red-faced, very complacent 
 friend, who was said to be easily the best- 
 dressed man in Gironeggio. 
 
 I saw him with extended hand and fire in 
 his blue eyes threatening the waiter. He had 
 no fulmination to spare for me — at least, I 
 think not. 
 
 " What the devil . . ." he was saying, but 
 at the same moment his soup came to him,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 22 
 
 and did more than any excuses from me. 
 He addressed himself to that. " It might 
 be hotter," he said, " but it seems nourishing. 
 Where's Malleson ? " 
 
 I explained that Malleson wasn't dining. 
 Chevenix looked momentarily concerned. 
 
 " What's up ? " he asked. " Toothache ? 
 Telegrams ? Can I do anything ? " 
 
 " Nothing, Chevenix," I assured him, and 
 looked about for the real cause of trouble. 
 
 They had a side-table and a diligent attend- 
 ance. I guessed them immediately for persons 
 of consequence, because the head-waiter had 
 such a careful eye for them. Apart from that, 
 they looked it. The man, with his square 
 bulk and hardy eyes, had the assured air of 
 the comfortably cushioned in this world, that 
 air of a corner-seat which the great, especially 
 the foreign great, are seldom without. An 
 English peer is very often apologetic. He 
 seems to say, " Excuse my greatness. I was 
 born to it — it's a thing that can't be helped." 
 The French aristocrat, on the other hand, is 
 frank about it. "I am somebody, and you 
 are canaille. True. But all that apart, how 
 can I serve you ? " And as for the German — 
 it is like the rest of his system. It is the 
 act of God.
 
 23 ILLUMINATION 
 
 I put these people clown as Austrians, and 
 Chevenix, when I called his attention to them, 
 agreed. 
 
 " Austrian, right," he said. " You can 
 always tell. If ever you see Germans who 
 seem sorry about it, and anxious to be some- 
 thing else, they are Austrians. Very nice 
 people — except to each other. There, I hap- 
 pen to know, they are the deuce. I knew 
 a couple once — " But at that moment he 
 stopped. He stared — he grew red — he looked 
 the other way. 
 
 " Sorry," he said, then to me in a tragic 
 whisper, " Bad case." 
 
 I had seen what he had seen. The man 
 by sheer muscular force had managed to 
 drink out of a wine-glass. He had collected, 
 concentrated, his will-power upon it, grappled 
 with it, rocked it to and fro in mighty conflict, 
 drained it, and set it down. It gave you 
 much the same effect as you would get at a 
 circus from an elephant lighting a cigar — 
 that of enormous concentration, of incredible 
 difficulties overcome by strength. It was a 
 question of a few seconds only ; yet I had 
 seen the gathering of the forces for attack, 
 the clutching hand, the putting forth of all 
 his strength — and the futility of effort. It
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 24 
 
 affected me very much. I felt it tragic and 
 horrible at once. 
 
 It set Chevenix moralizing at random. 
 " That's bad, you know, when you get it 
 like that. Uses up your reserves, what ? 
 And all for a drink ! All for love and the 
 world well lost, eh ? Oh, quite so, quite so ! 
 But for a glass of claret ! " He mused, and 
 I had lost the thread of his discourse when he 
 broke out again, " I knew a man — married to 
 a jolly pretty woman, too — who had no feet 
 at all. Accident, you know. Volcano or 
 something. Found himself in lava — that sort 
 of thing. Pegs he had — two pegs. No feet. 
 He used to go dotting about with two sticks. 
 You might have been following your own 
 dressing-table, I assure you. ... A pretty 
 woman, too. Yet he seemed to give satisfac- 
 tion. She never looked at anybody else — 
 so far as I know." 
 
 " You mean that she didn't look at you, 
 I suppose ? " I ventured. 
 
 " Right," said Chevenix. " That's just what 
 I do mean." 
 
 " Now, with our friend over there," he 
 continued, when he had helped himself to 
 ice-pudding, " I should say that she was 
 considerably bored. Shouldn't you ? She's
 
 25 ILLUMINATION 
 
 your still- water sort — that you can see. She 
 never told her love. Not she. Sooner die. 
 Bless you, I know that kind. Damask cheek, 
 what ? I suppose, you know, that it took 
 her unawares. And him, too. A thief in 
 the night. Oh, it's pretty thick, a thing of 
 that sort. And — I say ! " He suddenly fixed 
 me with a very open and alert pair of eyes. 
 44 1 say, what's the matter with Malleson, 
 anyhow^? " 
 
 I must say that Bill Chevenix, with the 
 manners of a first-class ass, has a far-reaching 
 intelligence. Here, however, he rather divined 
 than inferred. 
 
 I said, 44 Malleson has seen them." 
 
 44 And it has knocked him out ? Well, he's 
 a sensitive plant. But Broderode's all right." 
 
 I jumped. 44 What ! " I said. 44 You know 
 them, then ? " 
 
 He grew explanatory. 44 My dear man, I 
 know their names — that's as far as I am pre- 
 pared to go at present. He is a Baron Eugene 
 von Broderode — and she is his Baroness." 
 
 44 Then you've seen them before ? " 
 
 Chevenix tossed his head. 44 Seen them 
 before ? I should hope so. When did you 
 ever know me not see a pretty woman before ? 
 You imagine a vain thing."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 26 
 
 I said that she was more than a pretty 
 woman, and he allowed it. I said that she 
 was a beautiful woman, by which I largely 
 mean a woman made beautiful by a beautiful 
 nature. A kind of lamp, illuminated from 
 within. I judged that she was not a happy 
 woman and didn't see how she could expect 
 to be ; but I allowed a great deal for use- 
 and-wont, and wasn't prepared to be as 
 shocked as the too susceptible Hector had 
 been. I considered that she was chiefly bored, 
 but I admit that I had not gone deeply into 
 her case. Perhaps you need imagination to 
 do that. I don't think I have much of it. 
 I did notice, however, that they were a silent 
 couple, speaking only upon commonplaces ; 
 I noticed also that such talk as there was 
 came from him. She answered, but carelessly, 
 as if such prattle was not worth notice. Then 
 again there was this. He sought her attention 
 and occasionally compelled it. She looked 
 at him when she had to, but not unless he 
 made her. Letters and a newspaper or two 
 were brought to them by the ever-watchful 
 head-waiter. She opened his for him, as the 
 poor fellow was making a dreadful mess of 
 it. Her own occupied her for the rest of the 
 meal. She ate hardly anything ; but he, on
 
 27 ILLUMINATION 
 
 the contrary, did himself extremely well, and 
 wrestled for his wine with a zeal worthy of 
 a better cause. To see him at that was to 
 witness an enthralling spectacle. A battle 
 on a large scale — masses engaged — no quarter 
 — and all for a glass of claret ! 
 
 After dinner we took our coffee in the 
 Lounge with a cosmopolitan Dutchman from 
 The Hague, who knew everybody. Eugene 
 von Brcderode was our man's name, he agreed. 
 She was a Pole, he believed. His family, 
 of course, was from the Low Countries ; he 
 bore an historical name ; but he was of a 
 younger branch of it long settled in Galicia. 
 A very accomplished man, great traveller, 
 spoke English as well as we did ; had been 
 in diplomacy, and was so when our friend 
 saw most of him — in Rome that had been, 
 in '86-'88. We saw how it was with him ? 
 Here Chevenix nodded sagely and looked 
 concerned. Never be surprised at such things, 
 said our friend. His manner of life had been 
 — here he shrugged up into the air — absurd 
 — up to the hilt. He went into life, as you 
 can find it when you want it, with the zest 
 of a young giant. It had been one long series 
 of pursuits. And in at the death every time.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 28 
 
 He shrugged his chorus to the strokes of 
 Doom. " He got out by marriage — as you 
 see. Just in time, as it seemed. She was 
 a girl of eighteen — out of a convent school. 
 It^was twelve or more years ago. Nearer 
 fourteen, I should say. She didn't make a 
 fuss — either from pure ignorance or because 
 they never do. For they don't, you know. 
 If once they began that, God knows where 
 they would end — " There he paused and 
 stroked the ash off his cigar against the match- 
 box. He rolled the glowing stump about in 
 his fingers ; and then said slowly and with 
 great distinctness, " And I think he would 
 be a bad friend to a woman who taught her 
 that her lot might be very much better than 
 it is — in every case." 
 
 We had no commentary to offer upon this 
 dictum ; but I thought of my grave-eyed 
 friend pacing the shores of the lake. 
 
 Meantime I had been observing the pair 
 upon whose nature and lot Van Riiver had 
 been moralizing. They sat apart in a recess 
 by the staircase, she with her needles and silk, 
 he with his cigar. I admired the play of her 
 beautiful hands, but still more her extra- 
 ordinary patience. At the allotted moment 
 came the coffee equipage and the old brandy.
 
 29 ILLUMINATION 
 
 She busied herself with that, serving him but 
 not herself, and then resumed her netting. 
 He, apparently at ease, literally drank at his 
 cigar, and inhaled the last pint of joy from 
 it. Yet you could see that he kept a watchful 
 eye for his grim, unsleeping enemy, and gave 
 not one inch of ground. If his paper slipped 
 from his knee he called up his forces to recover 
 it. It came up fluttering like a rag in a gale 
 — but it came. She did not help him : one 
 saw that he would not allow that. By in- 
 credible efforts he accomplished what was 
 needful with the appearance of ease. I warmed 
 to him for his courage and audacity ; and 
 when he began to play patience, and at every 
 shift of a card had to risk battle and rout — 
 and nearly always triumphed — horrible as 
 the flickering business was to watch, I felt 
 that I could have been proud either of his 
 friendship or his enmity. He was no shirker. 
 He faced the foe. There was no faltering. 
 The foe would pin him at last ; but he would 
 go to his death with the flag flying. 
 
 He was a strong man armed, with his 
 handsome, galliard, shining face. He had 
 kind, blue, humorous eyes, eyes which were 
 kind even in the trap's teeth, and did not 
 cease their laughing scrutiny. You couldn't
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 30 
 
 catch him out anywhere. He was ready for 
 you at all points. He seemed to me abound- 
 ingly clever and capable, so thoroughly awake 
 as he was to a delicate situation. Occasionally, 
 I went so far as to judge, he was foolhardy 
 in his gallantry ; he took risks which were 
 heavy. But I thought I could hear his 
 apology. " See," he might well be saying, 
 " see how it is that, with this ghastly shackling 
 upon me, I still hold this lovely creature at 
 a nod. There's no chain ; there's nothing 
 but a confident look." That was true ; there 
 was no appeal. " I put it to you. You took 
 me ; here I am as you see me. Well, what 
 are we to make of it, you and I ? " I am 
 not saying that there is no other side to this 
 brave shield of his. I am saying that this 
 was gallantry. 
 
 Chevenix, rendered grave by Van Riiver's 
 reminiscences, had been blinking his light 
 eyelashes over them. Then he said that he 
 remembered a murder case where the defence 
 was something like this. The accused said 
 that he had sat opposite the murdered woman 
 for something like twenty years without speak- 
 ing. It had become a habit. They had not 
 quarrelled, but they had nothing to say ; so 
 they didn't speak. Then, one evening, it
 
 44 
 
 31 ILLUMINATION 
 
 struck him like a fire-ball from heaven, " Lord 
 of Life and Death, I shall have to sit opposite 
 this woman for twenty years more perhaps — 
 and neither of us have a word to say. It is 
 not to be borne." He yielded to the impulse — 
 and he killed her. 
 
 Van Riiver chuckled. " Did they allow the 
 plea ? " 
 
 They did not," said Chevenix. 
 They hanged him ? " 
 They did." 
 
 Van Riiver said, " Perhaps it was well. 
 And yet it's as likely a form of madness as 
 any other that leads to sudden violence." 
 
 " Mind you," said Chevenix, " the thought 
 might drive anybody mad. What ! All silent 
 and all damned ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Van Riiver, getting up. " But 
 no woman would have had the thought for 
 a moment. It would have seemed quite in 
 the order of things." 
 
 Thereupon he left us and crossed the room 
 to greet our pair. Baron von Broderode 
 gaily held out his left hand. The Baroness 
 smiled up at him from her work, but offered 
 no more formal greeting. Van Riiver bowed 
 deeply to her, and began to talk. The Baron 
 laughed and joked, but never ceased for one
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 32 
 
 moment his running battle. Every card that 
 he moved flickered terribly in his hand. 
 
 We watched them for a while. Then Che- 
 venix said, " Good old Hector. He should 
 have been here. He'd have been interested. 
 Come and play French pills. I'll take you 
 on."
 
 Ill : IMPLICATION 
 
 We saw nothing of Hector that night, but 
 before it was ended our Dutch acquaintance 
 had presented Chevenix and me formally to 
 the Baron and his fair wife. That was ex- 
 citing, as actual contact must always be, where 
 the person touched has been the object of more 
 or less intense speculation. He bristles at 
 every point with the darts of your surmises. 
 I found him, as I had expected, most affable ; 
 he spoke fluent, idiomatic English — occasion- 
 ally at fault. He rose to greet us — I saw his 
 brow break into beads of sweat as he did it : 
 but do it he would and did. He said that he 
 was delighted to see us, and I really thought 
 that he was. She contented herself with 
 bending her beautiful head — an act like that 
 of a princess bowing from a carriage — but by 
 and by she slid into the conversation, and 
 towards the end she could laugh and be at ease 
 with my engaging, red-headed friend, who, 
 with a casual manner, always succeeded in 
 getting interest, because he always gave it. 
 
 33 c
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 34 
 
 I forget what we all talked about — anything 
 or nothing, as people do in hotels ; but I do 
 remember that Chevenix brought in the absent 
 Hector. " A very serious young man," he 
 told the Baroness. " Malleson," he said, " is a 
 man who thinks that he was born to put the 
 world to rights. O cursed spite ? I beg your 
 pardon — not at all. He doesn't mind doing it 
 in the least ; but it weighs upon him all the 
 same. He feels the responsibility. The time 
 is slipping by, you see. He thinks us all very 
 frivolous." She was prepared for his ex- 
 amples ; she could see that he was seething 
 with anecdote — but it was her husband who 
 spoke. I didn't think he had been listening. 
 
 " How is he getting on — your friend ? " he 
 asked, deeply appreciative of the nature of the 
 man thus lightly etched in. 
 
 Chevenix tossed his head. " He wrestles 
 with it, sir. He's out and about now, seeing 
 that the lake does its duty. ' Roll on, thou 
 deep and dark blue ocean, roll ' — which it does 
 not fail to do, with Malleson's encouragement. 
 Do you read Byron ? " With that he turned 
 to the lady. She confessed to having read the 
 poet — when she was a girl. 
 
 " There's nothing Byronic about Hector," 
 Chevenix told her, " except his pre-occupation
 
 35 IMPLICATION 
 
 with eternity. Hector's a very religious man. 
 He'll end up a Catholic, I don't doubt — and 
 then he'll be all right. The Church, you see, 
 will take his responsibilities from him. Byron 
 would have done the same, if he'd had time." 
 
 The Baron agreed. " You are right, Mr. 
 Chevenix," he said. " Voltaire was a pose with 
 Byron. He wore him like plate armour. He 
 scorned himself, that young man, and took 
 pains to be scornful of the world in order to let 
 himself down, as you say. There never was 
 any man of his ability and force who got less 
 out of this world than your Lord Byron." 
 Here he drank prodigiously of his cigar. 
 
 " There," said Chevenix to me as we watched 
 him heave out of sight, trailing his feet into the 
 dusk of the passage, " there goes a man who 
 will squeeze the last drops out of life." The 
 implication of this heedless remark struck me 
 all of a heap, as the companion of the ruthless 
 Titan turned her head, and showed us her 
 tragic profile. From what lives was he not 
 squeezing the last drops ? I was able to 
 appreciate Hector's concern, though, unlike 
 Hector, I did not propose to take any steps ! 
 
 Van Riiver chuckled grimly. " Oh, he will 
 squeeze life with anybody. He has always 
 done that."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 36 
 
 " Did you notice," Chevenix said, after a 
 moment of amused reflection, " how he drank 
 his cigar ? " 
 
 " That was how he drank — everything," Van 
 Riiver said. " He went over them like a hot 
 wind." 
 
 " Them ? " said Chevenix, with a lift of the 
 eyebrow. Van Riiver nodded. 
 
 " Them," he said. " And now he's footing 
 the bill." 
 
 I said that he did it like a man. Van Riiver 
 shrugged. 
 
 " He gets a lot of help, you know," he 
 said. 
 
 I thought of that pale and tragic profile, 
 turned sideways as if looking for help. I was 
 glad that Hector had not been there — for what 
 can you do ? 
 
 In the morning Chevenix went his ways, 
 entrenched in portmanteaux and kit-bags. 
 I saw him to the station on his way to Rome. 
 " Look after Hector," were his parting words. 
 " He'll want it. There's divine simplicity 
 pealing in that lady's eyes. He'll hear it as 
 you and I hear the dinner-gong." 
 
 " I know he's very susceptible," I said. 
 " Put it down to youth. And women are made 
 to be fallen in love with."
 
 37 IMPLICATION 
 
 tc 
 
 Right," said Chevenix. " The Catholics 
 knew what they were about." 
 
 " I'm sure of it," said I. " Bless you, she's 
 older than Hector." 
 
 " She's a dangerous age. I'll tell you a good 
 thing I read somewhere. I don't know who 
 said it, but I daresay you do. ' After forty a 
 woman gets bored with virtue and a man with 
 honesty.' " 
 
 " Sydney Smith said that," I told him. 
 " But be just to our friends. Neither of them 
 is forty yet." 
 
 " She's words to that effect," said Chevenix, 
 " and as for him, the devil of it is that he'll 
 never get tired of honesty. If he did he'd be 
 harmless. I knew a man once — We're off. I 
 leave it at that. So long." He waved his 
 hand, and went out, veiled in anecdote to the 
 last. 
 
 I found Hector at his coffee in the sun. He 
 looked sedate, pre-occupied, and saluted me 
 remotely. He did not seem inclined to discuss 
 his agitation of overnight, and it wasn't for me 
 to begin upon it. I asked him if he had any 
 plans for the day : he said, none. I asked him 
 had he thought of our movements ? He said 
 he had not. I was by this time somewhat
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 38 
 
 ruffled and inclined to damn his eyes at a 
 venture. 
 
 I said, " We should have been glad of your 
 company last night, and I think that you would 
 have been glad of ours. Van Riiver was very 
 interesting." 
 
 " He can be, I know," Hector said. " He's 
 a wicked old sinner, but all the better company 
 for that." 
 
 " Yes," I said, " and he knows every one. 
 That's useful sometimes." 
 
 I think he began to have an inkling. He 
 shot me a moment's glance, then deliberately 
 drank before he answered. 
 
 " Very useful. Did he find some acquaint- 
 ance last night ? " 
 
 " He did," I said, " and we made some." 
 
 Hector's sallow skin burned — a sort of brick- 
 red suffused him. 
 
 " The von Broderodes are friends of his. 
 We were presented, Chevenix and I." 
 
 Hector's hand shook as he filled a pipe. He 
 was very agitated. 
 
 " My dear chap — " he began, then he started 
 and stopped. 
 
 " Look here, Hector," I said, " we'll get out 
 of this place as soon as you please — " He 
 began to fume.
 
 39 IMPLICATION^ 
 
 " You may do as you like. I have no power 
 to stop you. I had better tell you at once 
 that I have no intention of going, and that I 
 don't recognize any right in the world — " 
 
 I laughed at him ; a stupid thing to do, 
 " You wouldn't recognize it if you saw it hard 
 upon your nose," I said. " And there is no 
 right in the matter, if you come to that. 
 But I have rights of my own all the same, 
 just as you may have ; and if you believe it 
 your right to languish over a married woman 
 I am sure it is mine to avoid the spectacle. I 
 shall go to Milan and make preparations. 
 You'll pick me up when you want me." 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Hector quietly and 
 with immense gravity, " I never wanted you 
 more than I do now. You are the best friend 
 I have in the world — and God knows I want a 
 friend." 
 
 He touched me. I felt sorry for him. He 
 was an ass, but he was such a generous ass. 
 Besides that, I couldn't resist him. I ought to 
 have known better, and I did ; but he had me 
 on my weak side. So instead of scoffing at him 
 as I should have done, I took him for a walk 
 and had it out of him. 
 
 He had fallen in love with this lady, in- 
 stantly and plumply in love — but in the modest,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 40 
 
 reverential way which becomes a young man 
 of his sort. After all, young men are at their 
 best when they are in love, and before there is 
 any question of the hunter's instinct being 
 aroused. He talked about her as he might 
 have talked about his mother, if he had had 
 one alive ; half mother, half goddess, he made 
 her out. He had spent the night on the 
 mountain side, he told me, and had hardly 
 known it was night before the dawn came. " I 
 felt," he said, " that the moment of a life- 
 time was come upon me. I felt the call — for 
 I must tell you what I suppose you haven't 
 known, that our eyes met there in the hall 
 across all those babbling idiots. They did, 
 you know. Whatever may come of it — and 
 God knows what that may be — we are not the 
 same people. You can't explain these things, 
 you can't account for them. It's as if we had 
 invisible tentacles streaming out of us, waving, 
 spearing into the air. These never touch but 
 what is sympathetic : they curl and writhe 
 and avoid all else. But by the thrill that 
 ran all through me, and by the divine illumina- 
 tion of her face at that moment, I swear to you 
 that she and I touched each other. The 
 thing's done and can't be undone." 
 
 I took it lightly, though with heavy fore-
 
 41 IMPLICATION 
 
 boding. " All right," I said, " it's done then. 
 But this is a cut-and-dried world, after all, 
 and there's a Baron of experience in the way. 
 No tentacles streaming out of Baron Eugene." 
 
 " Is his name Eugene ? " Hector asked me 
 with great interest. 
 
 "So Van Riiver tells me," I answered. 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 ' Oh, no reason whatever. Only it's odd, 
 because I believe that her name is Eugenia." 
 
 " But it isn't," I said. " I happened to see 
 her name on an envelope. It is Helena. I 
 hope yours isn't going to be Paris." 
 
 He was muttering to himself. " I thought it 
 was Eugenia. It is Eugenia as far as I am 
 concerned." 
 
 I said rather brutally, " She must be thirty 
 at least. She's been married twelve years, and 
 Van Riiver says that she was a girl when he 
 married her." 
 
 He wasn't listening to me. I heard him say 
 " Eugenia " once or twice softly to himself. 
 He was very far gone. 
 
 I offered to introduce him, but he said that 
 wasn't necessary. I told him that she wouldn't 
 drop her handkerchief for him, not being that 
 kind. He said that I didn't understand these 
 things. When I offered to retail him some
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 42 
 
 more of the Dutchman's gossip, he cut me off 
 short. " I'm sure you mean well, you are the 
 best friend I have. But, you see, you and I 
 are at cross-purposes over this. You think 
 that I am going to make love to her, and very 
 reasonably want to head me off. Well, I am 
 not. You don't make what already exists. I 
 have made all the love I intend to make her. 
 The thing is done." 
 
 " Well, what do you intend to do next ? " 
 I asked him. 
 
 He said he didn't know. He should see her 
 every day. That was all he could be sure of 
 at present. I left it at that. 
 
 As it fell out, Van Riiver caught us that 
 afternoon as we returned from a long walk, 
 and before he knew where he was Hector was 
 presented to his Eugenia. He was handsomely 
 confused, she serenely unconscious of waving 
 tentacles, to all appearance. The Baron was 
 cordial and rose up on his two sticks like the 
 unwearied Titan he was. First he lifted his hat 
 with a flourish which must have cost him some- 
 thing ; then he held out his hand. " I am very 
 glad to meet Mr. Malleson. The more so be- 
 cause I have his name by heart. It must have 
 been a relation of yours who was a friend of
 
 43 IMPLICATION 
 
 mine long ago. He was in diplomacy, and so 
 also I. First in Madrid — that was in '90 ; 
 and then in Petersburg. But he is dead — and 
 I am sorry." 
 
 That was what he said, with great ease and 
 friendly interest. Hector heard him in a stare 
 which showed me that he himself was not at all 
 interested. He recovered himself just in time 
 to avoid an awkwardness. 
 
 " Ah, yes," he said, " you mean my uncle 
 Bellasys. Yes, he is dead. He went to 
 Teheran on a mission, and died out there." 
 
 " He was a good fellow," said the Baron, 
 warming to his reminiscences — " a good fellow. 
 What you call a cool cucumber. I will tell 
 you a tale o f mv Uncle Bellasys. It was at 
 Nice, in the ^.chquake. He was shaving at 
 his window, when, all in a moment, he sees 
 a factory chimney down in the town break off 
 short like a carrot and fall. At the same 
 moment all the walls of the room begin to sway 
 about like seaweed in the tide. The people all 
 run out into the garden in their nightgowns — 
 the trees begin to crack and the chimneys to 
 tumble. But your Uncle Bellasys — he goes 
 on shaving." Hector taking it modestly — as 
 anyone would take praises of his uncle — the 
 Baron turned glowing to Van Riiver. " Hey,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 44 
 
 Van Riiver, what do you say ? You knew 
 Bellasys Malleson — hey ? He was a cool 
 cucumber." 
 
 I enjoyed the cool cucumber, Van Riiver 
 applauded the uncle, and we all became very 
 friendly. Hector sat by his Eugenia — I mean, 
 of course, the Baroness Helena — and received 
 tea from her. I didn't observe much inter- 
 course between them, though no doubt the 
 tentacles were at work. The Baron, who was 
 in great form, never left them alone for long 
 together ; but I was interested to observe that 
 he rarely addressed his wife. It was Hector 
 whom he called in to the general conversation. 
 I had a few words with her, and judged that 
 she was of a cold temperament. If she had 
 ever suffered, that was all over. She had been 
 broken in, had found her line of least resistance 
 and, like a wise woman, stuck to it. All this 
 comforted me. I doubted whether Hector 
 would get her off the track, or be tempted off 
 it himself. There were possibilities — there al- 
 ways are possibilities where a man is in earnest 
 and a woman bored. But I judged by her eyes, 
 which were direct, grey, and very cool. You 
 could see the thought concentrating in them 
 before she spoke. The pupils palpitated, 
 enlarged and contracted like sea-anemones.
 
 45 IMPLICATION 
 
 Finally she volunteered a fact which in my 
 opinion settled it. She had a child — in Vienna 
 — a girl. I was interested, and allowed myself 
 to appear so. 
 
 " You should have brought her to Gironeg- 
 gio," I said. " How she would have liked these 
 mountains." 
 
 " Yes, but it was not possible," she answered. 
 " She has her tutors and governesses. She is 
 very ambitious. And she knows the mountains 
 very well. Every year she is in the Tyrol." 
 
 " She is ambitious ! It is early days to 
 encourage ambition," I suggested. 
 
 " She is ten," said the Baroness with a 
 steady look. 
 
 And so on, and so on ! I don't think that 
 she was interested in me, and don't wonder 
 either. She was a lovely woman, but not my 
 kind. I don't like cold women, and have 
 no use whatever for women who don't like me. 
 A few more general remarks found me at the 
 end of my tether. I excused myself in the 
 usual manner — letters to write — and went off 
 for a bath, leaving Malleson with his lady. 
 
 After dinner he was with them again.
 
 IV : INTENTION 
 
 I shall summarize rapidly a week's work, 
 and come to a curious episode which marks 
 a definite stage in my history. It was a week 
 in which I had to see my ingenuous friend get 
 enmeshed in what he was pleased to call the 
 Baroness's tentacles, though, to do the fair 
 lady justice, she made no visible exertions 
 towards it. Indeed, if tentacles there were, 
 they were Baron Eugene's, which could not 
 have enough of poor Hector's. He seemed 
 to have no objections at all to his wife ob- 
 taining a cavaliere-servente. The marvel was 
 that she hadn't half a dozen to do the cushion- 
 carrying, chair-moving, bell -ringing which he 
 himself, poor chap, was prevented from doing. 
 Malleson was absorbed in the tender business, 
 and had plenty of urbanity to spare for the 
 Baron. So they made a pleasant little party 
 of three. 
 
 He got very little out of it but the con- 
 sciousness of devoted attentions. He was 
 hardly ever alone with her, hardly ever ex- 
 
 46
 
 47 INTENTION 
 
 changed — tentacles apart — half a dozen words 
 with her which the Baron didn't hear : none, 
 I am certain, which the Baron was not in- 
 tended to hear. Nor were there any of those 
 conscious glances to be intercepted, which 
 really tell a man more of the state of a case 
 than all the words of a tete-a-tete put together. 
 Hector, who had ordinarily about as much 
 tact as a tortoise, seemed to have understood 
 for once with whom he was dealing. Helena 
 was divinely simple, as he had said, and there- 
 fore divinely guarded. An angel with a sword 
 stood upon her quiet brows. Hector must 
 have seen him there, and respected the 
 blazoned cross on his shield. But I know that 
 he was deeply in love with her, because he was 
 so happy. 
 
 He was at that stage of love when the 
 consciousness of love itself is a triumph. It 
 is the elated feeling which a poet has when he 
 has written a poem, which a hen has when she 
 has laid an egg. You go clucking about ; you 
 lift your feet up ; your head is in the stars. 
 Such a spectacle is always exhilarating — I 
 speak for myself, who am never bored with 
 an ardent lover. Hector was one. He asked 
 nothing, expected nothing and got nothing. 
 And as he too was innocent, it never occurred
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 48 
 
 to him, at this stage of affairs, to consider 
 curiously, to let his imagination range over 
 the lives of these two ill-accorded beings — 
 this stricken hulk which had so little left him 
 of mannishness but mannish appetite, and this 
 late-flowering, bound and nobly reticent lady. 
 Although his interest in Helena had been 
 heightened, deepened, inflamed by her hard 
 fate, remember that it had been there before. 
 Her beauty had inspired it — and it was her 
 beauty which washed out that temporary fever 
 of interest, and remained as a holy and purely 
 delightful possession of his. I speak of the 
 first week of his admitted passion for Helena. 
 What happened after that, while I was away, 
 I shall have to report before I have done with 
 this chapter of events. 
 
 My own intercourse with the von Broderodes 
 was casual and intermittent. We saluted each 
 other when we met. The Baron used to wave 
 his hand to me across the dining-room ; once 
 or twice a look passed between us which, on his 
 side at least, was one of intelligence to impart. 
 He seemed to be telling me that he knew all 
 about it. And I'll go bail that he did. He 
 was so very much on the spot, as Chevenix 
 would have said. His was the whip hand,
 
 49 INTENTION 
 
 you see. He drove on the snaffle, and she had 
 a tender mouth. He knew all about that ; 
 and I thought that he wished me to know that 
 he did. More than once, certainly, I saw his 
 watchful blue eyes fixed upon me — to see how 
 I was taking Hector's devotion and her calm 
 acceptance of it. It seems absurd — but once 
 I am morally certain that he winked. It was 
 when Hector was holding silk for her to wind. 
 To be sure, a man does not look at his best 
 when he is at that duty, and assuredly, if he 
 is not a lover, he is a fool, according to Baron 
 von Broderode. 
 
 One day — it was in the garden and after 
 tea — it so happened that I found myself 
 walking with the Baroness. I am not sure that 
 she did not contrive it. Hector was held in 
 talk by the Baron, and she, with what was 
 practically an invitation, got up and began 
 to walk the grass. I followed her. 
 
 She began to question me about Hector's 
 people — with really very little preface. She 
 said that she liked him very much ; she felt 
 sure that he must be " noble," because he 
 was so sincere, and took so much for granted. 
 I told her that he was what she would call 
 noble, but pointed out that in Britain we had 
 both nobility and rank. Hector's rank, I 
 
 D
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 50 
 
 said, was not very great — not so great as her 
 own — but his nobility was as fine as you please. 
 Sir Roderick, I told her, was a kind of petty 
 king in his own country. 
 
 She pondered this. What did I mean, 
 exactly ? I told her that there were some three 
 or four thousand people who would profess it 
 their duty to shed their blood for Sir Roderick 
 Malleson ; and that when Sir Roderick died, 
 Hector would be Sir Hector, and might look 
 for the same devotion. 
 
 She said that that was like Hungary, and 
 that her own country had been like that too, 
 once upon a time. 
 
 I said, " You are a Pole, Baroness ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I am a Pole, but there is 
 no Poland now." 
 
 She returned to the Mallesons. Hector had 
 brothers, she had been told. Did I know 
 them ? I told her that I knew them all. 
 Hector was the eldest. Then there were 
 Nigel, a sailor, Spenser, a priest, Wynyard 
 and Pierpoint, who were twins, and Patrick. 
 There were no daughters. 
 
 Were they much alike ? she wanted to 
 know. I told her that physically they were 
 divided into camps. Hector, Nigel the sailor, 
 and Patrick who was at Oxford, were all
 
 51 INTENTION 
 
 dark, like their mother, who had been a dark, 
 slim, grey-eyed woman. The middle three 
 favoured the father, tall and broad-shouldered, 
 fair-haired young men. I told her that these 
 three had been a great trio in their day. 
 
 She bent her brows. " But their day is 
 not over ? " 
 
 I told her, no indeed. But Spenser, who 
 had been brought up by the Jesuits, was now a 
 priest and in China : and as for the twins, 
 they had separated widely as they had grown 
 up. Pierpoint was a soldier, and Wynyard a 
 mighty hunter. Fine young men both, but 
 very unlike in character. 
 
 She absorbed my information. " Tell me 
 more about them," she said very simply. I 
 gave her thumbnail sketches of Pierpoint's 
 gallant ways, and of Wynyard the lean and 
 silent. Then I threw her off a portrait of the 
 old chief himself. " You would like him," 
 I assured her. " He is the finest and the 
 youngest of them all. His faith never fails 
 him." 
 
 " His faith in what ? " she asked. 
 
 " In himself," I said. " He is in his way a 
 king of men. Indeed, he is actually that. 
 There was the case of a man in his country 
 who got a summons for debt. He brought it
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 52 
 
 up to the chief to know what he ought to do 
 about it. I assure you that the King's writ 
 runs there on sufferance." 
 
 She wasn't good at little jokes. She took 
 that quite sedately. " But your friend, Mr- 
 Hector — " she began again — " he is the heir, 
 as you say. Do they — has he got authority — 
 I don't know how to put it, but I suppose he 
 would have to exercise some sort of authority 
 in such a house ? " 
 
 " He hasn't been called upon for any as yet," 
 I said, smiling, " but I think that he could 
 be trusted. There has been no mutiny so 
 far." 
 
 She trembled upon her next question. " His 
 father — are they good friends ? " 
 
 I didn't know where she was leading me — 
 I evaded. " Oh, well, you know, he's the heir, 
 and of course there are difficulties — but on 
 the whole I don't think they do so badly." 
 I wasn't going to tell her everything — for in- 
 stance, that old Sir Roderick was only fond of 
 Hector when he wasn't there. The truth, of 
 course, was that they were too much alike 
 ever to get on. 
 
 Presently she began again — and I began to 
 see where I was. " Mr. Malleson has invited 
 us to Inveroran," she said, " and I think my
 
 53 INTENTION 
 
 husband would like to go. But I feel that it is 
 rather a long journey for him. Nothing is 
 decided." 
 
 " I am sure you would like Inveroran," I 
 told her. " The place is really magnificent — 
 fourteenth century, most of it ; and as for 
 the scenery — ! No doubt, after your Car- 
 pathians, your Dolomites and your Alps, you 
 would be exacting in that matter ; but you 
 must remember that in Scotland they have the 
 sea as a foreground." 
 
 She smiled rather bleakly. " I don't think 
 I am exacting," she said. Poor dear ! I 
 should think she wasn't. 
 
 By that time we were close to the others, 
 and our conversation died out. 
 
 This was how the affair stood when I went 
 away and left Hector behind me. I really 
 wanted to do some work in Lombardy ; I was 
 no good to him where I was, and with matters 
 in that trim ; moreover, I admit, I judged that 
 all was well. I trusted in her discretion as 
 much as in his simplicity — but it seems that 
 while you can push simplicity to the edge of 
 a precipice you must not always expect it 
 to drop meekly off into the inane. I hadn't 
 taken the Baron's bravado into account —
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 54 
 
 and perhaps he hadn't either, himself. To 
 put it quite shortly, after ten days' absence I 
 had a telegram from Hector, asking me to 
 meet him in Milan without fail. 
 
 I hate the place, and was being cut off just 
 when my work was beginning to arrange itself 
 — I was doing a map of Roman Lombardy — 
 but of course I went. 
 
 I found him pacing the hall of the hotel, 
 jumping from lozenge to lozenge of the 
 chequered pavement, in a pair of red morocco 
 slippers. His hands behind his back, his head 
 bent, his brows knitted, he seemed to be 
 concentrated upon his ridiculous exercise. He 
 looked like a young crane learning his father's 
 daily antics. It was some time before he 
 saw me watching him, and when he did, he 
 stood where he was, balancing on one foot 
 (exactly covering a black lozenge) and in his 
 turn looked at me. 
 
 " Hulloa," I said — we had the place 
 practically to ourselves. There was a 
 page-boy asleep in a corner, his arms on the 
 desk. 
 
 I got a rocking-chair and sat in it. I lit a 
 cigarette. " Well ? " I said. " What is it ? 
 A crisis ? "
 
 55 INTENTION 
 
 He hovered about me. " Yes," he said. 
 " I don't know what to do next." 
 
 I strangled a guffaw at birth. " You must 
 tell me first what you have done last. I 
 suppose you have made love to her ? " 
 
 He shook this away, as if it was water in 
 his ear. " Don't talk rot, please. I haven't 
 come to this beastly town, or pulled you into 
 it, to talk about love-making. This is a matter 
 of life and death." 
 
 " Whose life, my dear ? " I said. " Whose 
 death ? " 
 
 " Her life," he told me then, " and anybody's 
 death you please." 
 
 This annoyed me. "I wish you wouldn't 
 talk minor poetry, Hector," I said. " Now 
 look here. I must get you along. You have 
 either said something that you ought not to 
 have said or " 
 
 " She knows, of course, that I love her. 
 But that's an old story," said Hector. " I 
 suppose she knew that the first evening." 
 
 " By wireless," I said. " By your tentacles 
 — and hers, of course." 
 
 He nodded. " That's it. Yes, of course. 
 But she knows it explicitly now. I told her." 
 
 " Oh, you did, did you ? Well, what did 
 she say ? "
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 56 
 
 He became inspired. " Such women have 
 no need to speak. She looked at me. I read 
 every word she said. I accepted every com- 
 mand she laid upon me. There was nothing 
 to do. I had said to her, ' You know that I 
 love you. You know that I would die for 
 you.' I read her answer. 4 Yes, I know it. 
 But to die for me would be too easy. I ask 
 you to live for me.' " 
 
 I held my tongue from handling this flip- 
 pantly. Poor fellow, it was serious enough 
 this time. Presently I said that I considered 
 her answer a good one. " If you have read 
 her message rightly — and I expect you have 
 — you can only obey. But there's more to 
 
 come." 
 
 " There is," he said. " I tell you plainly, 
 I don't know what to do." 
 
 He became very much agitated. He took 
 a quick turn over the hall ; and when he came 
 back he seemed panic-stricken. He came to 
 me all alight with the truth. His eyes were 
 like fires — fires in daylight — for he had no 
 colour. 
 
 " I must tell you," he said, breathing short. 
 " The man's a ghoul." 
 
 I had nothing to say. I waited. But I 
 remembered what Van Riiver had said, on
 
 57 INTENTION 
 
 the night of our first acquaintance with the 
 pair, about squeezing the last drops out of life. 
 
 " He lives on her. He fastens himself. Day 
 by day. Andromeda white at the stake — 
 enfolded — day by day." 
 
 I kept my eyes upon him. With the eyes 
 only I inquired of his trouble. 
 
 He answered my unvoiced question. " Yes, 
 he does. She is his, body and blood. Seven 
 years of it — seven years — " Incoherence 
 followed, which I don't attempt to put down. 
 
 He had fought with it for nearly a week. 
 I'll undertake to maintain that he fought 
 desperately, that it was a tooth-and-nail 
 business. But it beat him, and changed 
 everything. The affair would, but for that, 
 have run a normal course. He would have 
 adored her near and far for a season ; but with 
 the fair one in Austria and the swain in Scotland 
 or parts adjacent that season would not have 
 been a long one. But now there was some- 
 thing added. The imagination was inflamed 
 beyond quenching. The first momentary fire 
 — when he saw the man come dragging himself 
 down the passage in pursuit — had been a 
 flicker. His native wholesomeness had put 
 that out. Not so now. He knew the facts. 
 
 I did what I could for him, all that an older
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 58 
 
 and a cooler head can do for a man in such a 
 state. But he fought me all along the line. 
 
 I said, " You have done a fatal thing. You 
 have looked where you ought not " 
 
 " It's not true," he said hotly. " He took 
 me in — to show me a photograph." 
 
 " Very well, I'll admit it," I told him, " but 
 still I say that you should have refused to 
 consider. That, believe me, is the only possible 
 course. That's the way of sanity. Don't ask 
 me how people feel about these things. We've 
 agreed to put a sanctity about life. What is a 
 sanctity but a hedge ? Woe to him who peers 
 through. Very properly he gets the worst 
 of it. Now here, you can do nothing — except 
 go away. You've done that — and I hope you'll 
 stick to it." 
 
 He was jumping about — all round me. " I 
 don't know what I shall do yet. I know that 
 I must do something." 
 
 " What on earth — " I began to say. 
 
 He said, " There are plenty of things that 
 I might do. I think she knows it." 
 
 " She may very well fear the only thing that 
 you could do," I told him. 
 
 He simply laughed at me : a mirthless laugh. 
 " Oh, you fool," he said. " I don't want to 
 do anything to her. Do you think I can't
 
 59 INTENTION 
 
 be trusted ? You ought to know me by this 
 time." 
 
 " Then, what do you want with her ? " I 
 asked him. 
 
 " I want her to be free," he said. " As 
 free as the wind. You may say what you 
 please about your sanctified hedges ; but surely 
 you see that every soul is responsible to itself. 
 The hedge is there — from birth. It is not I 
 who violate it. God help her, that was done 
 long ago." 
 
 We lunched, and I got some more positive 
 information out of him. The von Broderodes 
 had left Gironeggio. He had gone to Galicia 
 and was going on from there to Petersburg ; 
 thence to Moscow where he had many friends 
 and would stay for a month at least. He had 
 his man with him, and the Italian woman 
 Teresa Visconti, without whom he never 
 travelled a yard. She was to be in Vienna 
 with the child. In the autumn they were all 
 coming to Inveroran. The Baron intended 
 to shoot, it seems. 
 
 In this state of affairs, what did Hector 
 intend to do ? He said that he should go 
 home, he thought. She was happy where 
 she was — which was all he seemed to care
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 60 
 
 about. He should certainly not go to Vienna. 
 She wouldn't like it — nor would he. Yes, he 
 intended to write to her. He had done so 
 already, but she hadn't answered him yet. 
 He didn't care if she did — much. 
 
 His passion had left him. He was depressed 
 and despondent. 
 
 I said, " I hope you mean to have me at 
 Inveroran. Your friends interest me very 
 much. I expect to see some fine shooting 
 from the Baron." 
 
 He drearily agreed with me. " I imagine 
 that he has shot most things shootable in his 
 day," he said. " I don't suppose he has 
 missed much." 
 
 " You are not in the mood to do him justice," 
 I said. " Personally, I admire him. He's 
 putting up a great fight for it. You'll see, 
 he'll go down with his colours nailed to the 
 mast." 
 
 Hector turned rather green, and shut his 
 eyes. " We won't talk about him just now," 
 he said ; and then, " Damn him — he's a 
 ghoul."
 
 Y : INVERORAN 
 
 The famous prayer, " Bless, we beseech Thee, 
 O Lord, Great and Lesser Cumbrae, and the 
 adjacent islands of Great Britain and Ireland," 
 may well have been put up at Inveroran, 
 where, as I happen to know, the King of 
 England was looked upon as a neighbouring 
 monarch. It was Sir Roderick's factor who 
 remarked to me, on the occasion of a royal 
 visit, when, after a Highland gathering, his 
 Majesty drove off, accompanied by his host, 
 " They'll be glad to be by themselves, no 
 doubt." I must say that I like that sort of 
 thing. Race interests me more than anything 
 in the world ; and up there you get it pure 
 and strong. You feel a very long way from 
 England at Inveroran. 
 
 The Castle stands finely on the rising ground 
 above the bay, which has so narrow an entrance 
 that it has all the appearance of an inland 
 water. Below the gates of the policies the 
 little white town begins, and straggles down 
 to the quay and harbour. A steamer from 
 
 61
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 62 
 
 Glasgow puts in twice a week in the summer, 
 once a week in the winter, and when south- 
 westerly winds are blowing very often not 
 that. The moors stretch out in a demi-lune 
 on either side of you ; and then over the 
 first ridge you come to the deer forest. They 
 say that you would hardly ride out of Malleson 
 land in a day if you chose to go north-east. 
 Personally, I have never tried. I am no 
 sportsman myself, and have no need to pretend 
 to be. It used to be one of the minor afflic- 
 tions of poor Hector's life-days that, next in 
 succession as he was, he Avas an extremely 
 bad performer with the rifle, while his younger 
 brothers were of the best. Wynyard, espe- 
 cially, was a crack shot. 
 
 They were all there for the shooting that 
 year, except Nigel the sailor, who was at 
 Malta, and Spenser the priest, still a missionary 
 and martyr-elect in China. Wynyard was 
 there, as always, and in first-rate form, and 
 Pierpoint, the splendid young man, whom 
 some of us called George IV, because he had 
 the flushed and triumphant look of Lawrence's 
 portrait of the youthful monarch, and some 
 the Apollo Belvedere ; and young Patrick, 
 too, a cool hand — or, as von Broderode would 
 say, a cool cucumber. I told him that joke
 
 63 INVERORAN 
 
 before the visitors came, and it was the aim 
 of his soul to make him say it. As a matter 
 of fact, the young ass said it himself before 
 the Baron had been in the place an hour, 
 and the Baron spotted it instantly as a wrong 
 idiom. He turned it very cleverly on Pat : 
 " What you call a cool cucumber," he used to 
 say to him, fixing him with his galliard blue 
 eye. That is only one of a thousand instances 
 when von Broderode turned a retreat into 
 a victory. How the man had time, where 
 he found zest for such little affairs was a 
 marvel to me. 
 
 There were the usual sort of people there 
 to meet them. Some off-hand girls, very 
 sketchily dressed, rather cynical and extremely 
 wiry ; their mothers or not, as the case might 
 be — there's no rule ; a couple of colonels 
 who shot all day and played bridge all night. 
 One of them made money at it — and " By 
 Gad, I want it," he told me, and I believed 
 him. Then there was Lord Mark, who is a 
 Malleson uncle by the mother's side, and his 
 wife, American and rather stodgy. There 
 were others, but they don't matter — youth 
 from Oxford, speechless to the likes of me, 
 but very eloquent at side-tables. And that's 
 all.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 64 
 
 I was there before the von Broderodes 
 came, when, in fact, there was daily and gay 
 speculation about them. To Patrick he was 
 the " German Johnny " or " Old Two-Sticks " 
 — which made Sir Roderick fume and scowl. 
 Checked there, Pat turned him into Sir Leoline, 
 the Baron rich, which was safe, since his father 
 knew not the bard, but had horrid implica- 
 tions as to what he had or had not in his 
 company, very useful against Hector on occa- 
 sion. Sir Roderick didn't mind what was 
 said so long as it was admitted that the von 
 Broderodes were not German. He hated the 
 Germans and thought that they intended the 
 destruction of our realms, though not, of 
 course, that they would succeed. To him 
 it was very important that the Baron was 
 Austrian — " Old friends of ours, the Austrians 
 — a fine people, sir." He thought to call 
 your prospective guest Old Two- Sticks was 
 offensive — " Damned offensive, sir, if you ask 
 me." Here he would square his fine old 
 shoulders, and light a fire in his dark blue 
 eyes, with the ridiculous effect that he looked 
 younger than his youngest son. But you 
 couldn't stop them. The Baroness, also, 
 was " the inexpressible She " or " the ship- 
 launcher " in allusion to her name. I remem-
 
 65 INVERORAN 
 
 ber that at the moment of her coming into 
 the hall for dinner, the first night of the visit, 
 Patrick whispered to me, " Was this the 
 face . . . ? " and added afterwards to a younger 
 friend, " By Gad, it might be." He was much 
 impressed, as they all were, by her charm 
 of quiet. All this speculative pleasantry was 
 flying about ad libitum, before they came. 
 Hector, that ostrich, buried his head, and 
 gave the rest of himself away. He used to 
 speak of Helena with elaborate unconcern, 
 as if he hadn't thought of her much up to 
 now. " Good-looking ? Yes, I fancy you 
 would call her good-looking — in a placid, sort 
 of nun-like way." He infuriated Pierpoint 
 by that. " Look here, Hector," that flushed 
 and really noble-looking youth cried out at 
 him, " are you going to sit there and tell 
 me she's demure ? " Hector said that he 
 was going to sit there and tell him nothing. 
 Patrick suggested that perhaps she was 
 " arch." Wynyard, who was eating muffins, 
 said that we should try the Knockacarrig 
 beat to-morrow. The wind was right. He 
 couldn't see what use there was in discussing 
 the appearance of a woman who wasn't there 
 and whom nobody but Hector had seen. 
 Patrick jumped up to confute him. If, he 
 
 E
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 66 
 
 said, she was there, you naturally couldn't 
 discuss her, and if everybody had seen her 
 it wouldn't be worth while. What did Wyn- 
 yard say to that ? Wynyard said nothing 
 to it, but finished the muffins, and then asked 
 if anybody would play squash with him before 
 dinner. That was how they went on all the 
 time, sparring and wrangling. But they were 
 very close-knit for all that. It meant nothing. 
 If you touched one of them you touched the 
 whole pack, and Sir Roderick first of all. 
 There was something fine about that old 
 giant when he was in a rage. You forgot 
 how stupid he was. 
 
 Hector set great store by this visit of his 
 lady and her grim possessor. He made me 
 his confessor shortly after I came, telling me 
 that when he left me in Milan in the spring 
 he had indeed gone home — but by way of 
 Venice and Vienna ! There he had been in 
 her company for two clear days. She had 
 not been offended — far from it. She had never 
 been kinder to him than she had then proved 
 herself. Heavenly creature ! he said, she had 
 seemed to know that he would come : she 
 had seemed touched by it. That a woman 
 should be grateful to you for what is the act
 
 67 INVERORAN 
 
 of sheer self-gratification ! Can anything be 
 more beautifully condescending than that ? 
 It is innate courtesy of the most exquisite 
 refinement. And not a cloud in the sky — 
 not a cloud ! She gave up all her engage- 
 ments on his account. They spent their days 
 in the galleries — the evenings in her fine 
 house. There were people there, of course — 
 a soft-footed priest with a white head, he 
 told me, a Monsignore who seemed to be a 
 relative of hers ; a Miss Waggetts who was 
 governess to Hermione ; a mysterious old 
 black-browed lady with a name like Korsaczy, 
 who always looked as if a thunder-storm was 
 going on in the top of her head. That was 
 because she blinked. You thought of light- 
 ning. Helena didn't explain any of these 
 people to him, nor (he supposed) himself to 
 them. She had a way of murmuring names 
 in the air, and leaving them to be sorted by 
 their owners. He laughed the laugh of a 
 lover : "I adore her dependence on Provi- 
 dence," he said, " but she is undeniably vague 
 sometimes. The Korsaczy didn't catch my 
 name at all, and had it out of me afterwards. 
 She didn't like it when she had it. She said 
 it sounded like a curse. Malison — do you 
 see ? Clever of her. The tu quoque was
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 68 
 
 obvious, but I let it go. She didn't like me, 
 but that didn't matter. ... It was beautiful 
 to see her — I mean Helena — with Hermione. 
 A tall, creamy-skinned, grave child with her 
 mother's deep grey eyes and cloudy hair. 
 Nothing was said of the satyr — bah ! we 
 won't talk of him. Hermione used to lean 
 against her mother's knee while I was there 
 talking ; and every now and then they used 
 to look at each other and smile. It was like 
 the sun breaking out : one used to wait for 
 it. . . . The second of my days she touched 
 me to the point of tears. It was after luncheon. 
 I was following them out of the room, and 
 in the corridor Hermione waited for me, and 
 held out her hand. We went on handfasted. 
 A child's confidence is worth having. That 
 makes a man think himself somebody." I 
 agreed with him. 
 
 There was more to come. I knew that and 
 waited for it. Presently he said, " Her patience 
 is exquisite. It's so beautiful that sometimes 
 I think what she goes through may be worth 
 while — to secure it to her, don't you see ? 
 You know how I look upon Beauty, as being 
 so much the assurance of a virtue that it 
 becomes a virtue in itself. It follows that 
 any indignity offered to Beauty — especially
 
 69 INVERORAN 
 
 Spiritual Beauty, as Helena's is — is a thing 
 unendurable ; it's like winking at obscenity ; 
 it's like allowing immorality in your own 
 house. I had a long talk with her about that 
 — I couldn't say much, naturally — but she 
 knew what I meant. I said that a man knows 
 that he's a good poet, or linguist, or chemist, 
 and takes his stand in the world on that 
 ground. It seemed to me that a woman 
 must know not only the fact of her beauty, 
 but also the rights due to it. Without vanity 
 she seeks to enhance it, taking thought for 
 her clothes, her hair and things like that. 
 Is she not entitled to say to the world : ' This 
 beauty of mine, which you admit by your 
 words, you shall admit also by your acts ? 
 No man in the world has a right over it but 
 by free grant from me.' I didn't put it so 
 crudely as that — I didn't dot the i's or cross 
 all the fs — but I took pains about it. 
 
 " She was very gentle with me. I think 
 that she was moved. She said that I had 
 high standards, which were not common. 
 In her country, she said, men talked like that 
 before they married, but that, being married, 
 they only talked so to other men's wives. 
 I told her that England stood in no better 
 case : but did all this matter ? Could brutish
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 70 
 
 behaviour alter eternal laws ? She sighed 
 as she said that custom had the force of law. 
 And then, as if to end the discussion, she 
 bent over her netting and said, 4 You mustn't 
 be unhappy. I shall be disappointed if I 
 think that you go home unhappy. I promise 
 you that I shall remember our talks, and be 
 the more contented for them. I haven't many 
 friends — but I count upon your friendship. 
 It is a great thing for me.' 
 
 " Upon my soul, I dared not say any more. 
 She asked me not to write to her often — not 
 more than twice, she said. It was understood 
 that they were to come here. I think I 
 wrote three times. She answered one letter 
 of mine — but that's all." 
 
 " Do you think — ? " I began to ask him 
 a question which I might have had some 
 difficulty in completing. But he answered 
 it as it was. 
 
 " No, I don't. I don't think she has any 
 love of that kind for anybody. I think she 
 is too out of the world for love, as the world 
 understands it. I doubt if the feelings of 
 ordinary women mean anything to her. But 
 I do think that she is pleased with me. She 
 listens to me, and thinks about what I say. 
 Yes, I do think so."
 
 71 INVERORAN 
 
 " What do you suppose he thinks about it, 
 Hector ? " I asked him. 
 
 ' I don't know," he said, " and don't care, 
 at present. He may be troublesome later 
 
 on. 
 
 I pressed him. " What do you mean — 
 later on ? " 
 
 " I mean," he said, " when he knows what 
 I am up to — and that I don't mean to leave 
 him alone." 
 
 I deprecated. " Really, I don't know how 
 you can keep his company," I said. " Mind 
 you, he's very intelligent." 
 
 " Oh, damnably," said Hector. " But so 
 is she." 
 
 " Well, my dear chap ? " 
 
 Hector got up and plunged his hands into 
 his pockets. " Well, it's got to this. S1h 
 is used to him. He's horrible, but she's used 
 to him and his horrors. And now — well — 
 now she has begun to find out that she ought 
 not to be." 
 
 I looked at him. " You mean to say that 
 you've laidja drawn sword ? " 
 
 He met me. "I mean to say that I have 
 proved to her own conviction that she is a 
 beautiful woman," he said — and then, " We 
 must go and dress."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 72 
 
 I don't seek to excuse my friend ; indeed, 
 I suppose that if he was in love with Helena 
 von Broderode he is to be excused for his 
 intromission in her private affairs. It didn't, 
 at the time, seem to me to amount to much. 
 Not to more than this, perhaps, that it 
 amounted to just as much or just as little 
 as she chose to make it stand for. And after 
 all is said and done, hedges only exist in love 
 to be broken through. The state of his 
 feelings magnified the offences of the un- 
 fortunate Baron — offences, mind you, that 
 were mere guess-work on Hector's part ; they 
 magnified also the distress of the Baroness — 
 guess-work again. My distinct opinion is that 
 the Baroness wasn't particularly uncomfort- 
 able with her Baron's attentions until she 
 found Hector scandalized about it. She had 
 been married twelve years. The Baron's 
 malady didn't attack him until half that 
 time had expired. I doubt her extreme sensi- 
 bility. I think she was of a placid nature, 
 if you ask me. I felt very strongly at the 
 time that if distress existed in the Baroness 
 it was almost entirely because Hector had 
 put it there. I am bound to say that that 
 was wanton of him, too bad ; and I don't 
 think that any flummery about the sovereign
 
 73 INVERORAN 
 
 rights of Beauty will excuse a man making 
 a beauty uncomfortable. I beg Hector's 
 pardon. Hector was a poet, it may be — for 
 you can be a poet without making any poems. 
 I imagine that Beauty was to him a very tangible 
 thing — a kind of gloss upon things and persons 
 (mostly persons, I am bound to say, and 
 mostly, too, female persons) which might be, 
 in his eyes, visibly tarnished. But, the plain 
 truth is, Hector's idealism of beauty was pure 
 sex — nothing else at all. If it had not been 
 so, there was his brother Pierpoint, for ex- 
 ample — the most beautiful creature in these 
 islands — a miracle of grace and strength, the 
 perfection of line and colour, and rare blood 
 and high spirit : a creature like a god. Yet 
 Hector never saw beauty like a gloss upon 
 him. No, no. He was in love with Helena — 
 as well he might be ; he was in love with her 
 after his own — as I think — rather anaemic 
 fashion. He perched her up on a five-foot 
 pedestal — so that her head was at least ten 
 feet in the air. And then he called out to 
 the world in general, " I have found a woman 
 who is ten feet high. She must be an im- 
 mortal. Come, we will turn her into a church. 
 No man must smoke a cigar, or spit, or scratch 
 his head, or go to sleep near her. One does
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 74 
 
 not do these things in churches, and I tell 
 you that you are in church where she is." 
 That's how sex takes you. Sheer sex : nothing 
 else at all. 
 
 I couldn't say this to him, and it would 
 have been little use if I had. As things turned 
 out, I am glad that I did not, for the very 
 peculiar twist in Hector's nature made him 
 fairly comfortable in the most uncomfortable 
 position — without any exception — in which 
 amorous man ever found himself. But one 
 thing at a time. We haven't reached that 
 yet. 
 
 In days to come I remembered that talk 
 with Hector. It was the night before the 
 von Broderodes were due. 
 
 And I remember another thing not at the 
 time memorable. I remember coming out 
 of my room and passing Pierpoint's on my 
 way to the staircase. Just before I reached 
 his door it opened, but nobody came out. 
 I heard his voice saying with emphasis, " No, 
 not'to-night. It's out of the question. You 
 know that as well as I do." Then I suppose 
 my steps were heard : the door was closed 
 again, and held-to until I had turned the 
 corner by the stair. On the way downstairs 
 Pierpoint, coming three at a time, bumped into
 
 75 INVERORAN 
 
 me and saved himself by clinging round my 
 neck. " Frightfully sorry," he panted. " You 
 see, I thought I was late. And you know 
 what the governor is. Baulked of his prey ! ' 
 
 " Come on," I said, " we'll brazen it out 
 between us. I heard you as I passed your 
 door. You were rather positive, I thought. 
 I was on the point of looking in." 
 
 He gave me a sharp look. For a second or 
 two it was intense. Then he laughed. "Quite 
 as well you didn't, old chap." That was what 
 he said.
 
 VI : THE STATE VISIT 
 
 Sir Roderick was a dear old man, whose 
 besetting sin was vanity. He had been a 
 splendid specimen of mankind in his day — 
 and he still was the perfection of hale, frosty, 
 alert old age — and I suspect that his excessive 
 partiality for Pierpoint sprang from that. He 
 renewed his youth in that hero ; he saw himself 
 in his acts, and all the admiration which the 
 youth won for himself — which was inordinate 
 — he applied like ointment to his own old 
 person. But that is parenthesis. One of the 
 by-products of his vanity was that in order 
 to magnify himself he had to magnify every- 
 thing to do with himself. His stags had to be 
 bigger than any other man's stags ; his gillies 
 tougher than any other man's gillies ; his 
 housemaids better-looking than any other 
 man's housemaids. One of them certainly 
 was, by the way : Ethel Cook was her name. 
 She was supposed to be the best-looking house- 
 maid in the world. I remember that he was 
 bragging about the maids at Inveroran one 
 
 76
 
 77 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 day — how good they were, how long they 
 stayed, what fine girls and all that. It was 
 after breakfast. He and I were in the hall. 
 " You shall see for yourself," he said. He rang 
 the bell and told the man to fetch Ethel. I 
 couldn't tell him — hadn't the heart — that I 
 knew all about her, that she was famous in her 
 way. He must have known that I had danced 
 with her at the servants' ball every year since 
 she had been there — but nothing would do. 
 Down she must come. By and by, sure 
 enough, down she came. Undoubtedly she 
 was magnificent — about five foot eight, with 
 a fine, small head on her shoulders, and a grave, 
 self-possessed pair of grey eyes. He gave her 
 an order about something or other, and kept 
 her for a while talking. She was perfectly 
 respectful, but not at all uneasy. Then he 
 sent her off. " That young woman has been 
 here for seven years," he told me. I knew 
 she had. " She came at sixteen." I knew 
 that too. " She's now twenty-three. I re- 
 spect her, sir. She's made herself respected. 
 And look at her. She's one of the family. She 
 declines to marry, though half the men in the 
 place would go through the fire for her. But 
 no ! And she comes from the South — a 
 Gloucestershire girl. Now, they are all of that
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 78 
 
 pattern. Let me tell you this ..." and then 
 the dear old gas-bag puffed out his chest, and 
 stroked his beard, and went off again. 
 
 That is another parenthesis, which I must 
 be excused. What I am coming to is that, 
 owing to this little weakness of his — of magni- 
 fying himself in his circumstance — there was 
 some danger, perfectly visible to the family, 
 of his turning the von Broderode visit into an 
 act of international courtesy. He might very 
 easily have had the town be-flagged. Trium- 
 phal arches were talked of, and the German 
 dictionary got out. Patrick staved that off 
 by insisting on Polish — for the Baroness. He 
 said that it wasn't like his father to ignore the 
 rights of a crushed and beaten race. " Do 
 you think," he said, " that she don't get enough 
 German rubbed into her in Galicia ? And you 
 expect her to come here and find German 
 inscriptions ? " That was the way to get at 
 him — to be as literal as himself. Sir Roderick 
 was touched. " You are right, my lad," he 
 said. " It would be a great want of tact. 
 No, no. That would never do." So we got 
 off the arches. But the whole course of a week 
 bristled with pitfalls. Should there be an 
 address at the station ? Should he himself be on 
 the platform ? A red baize, now ? The pipes ?
 
 79 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 One thing he had so set his heart on that it 
 stabbed us to ours to deny it him. He saw a 
 group of us all on the steps to await the 
 carriage — himself in the midst of his tall sons 
 — guests in wicker chairs — Lord Mark in his 
 yeomanry uniform — then men holding dogs in 
 leashes — the servants in white caps, or with 
 livery buttons looking like pills on the photo- 
 graph — ! It was to be like the pictures of 
 the German Emperor at a wedding. Really, 
 he was so unhappy when the boys flatly refused, 
 one after the other, that I was fool enough to 
 say I'd do it, and Lady Mark backed me up 
 and went so far as to say she would like it. 
 But the boys were of sterner stuff. Patrick 
 said he'd do it on one condition, which was 
 that he should wear his bathing- suit and carry 
 a parasol. Pier point and Wynyard, the twins 
 should sit at each corner in huge turn-down 
 collars — perhaps with banjoes. The poor old 
 dear saw that it was no go, and gave it up. 
 " It would have been a graceful act, sir," he 
 said to me. " That was how we received the 
 late King — and the King was pleased. He as 
 good as said so. But, however — " He was 
 dreadfully hurt, very stately and remote to 
 Pat, pressed the port on me — told'me its year 
 and all that — offered me a cigar ! In fact,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 80 
 
 he sulked in a very dignified way all dinner- 
 time. 
 
 After a series of pounding defeats like this 
 we became magnanimous and let him win a 
 couple of outpost skirmishes. He was allowed 
 the great carriage instead of the motor. Hector 
 went down in it to please him. And the Castle 
 pipers were at the station with their bags of 
 tricks under their arms. We even let him 
 have that. Being a Southron myself, like 
 Miss Ethel Cook, I saw no religious significance 
 in these chaps, and got all the more pleasure 
 out of them. I love them above all on these 
 sort of days of pomp. They always bring me 
 tears. I can see them now in that breezy, 
 dusty station yard, stalking up and down 
 like high-stepping cocks, or standing together, 
 discoursing of great affairs with each other, 
 in an open-mouthed circle of bare-footed boys. 
 And when the train was signalled, the toss of 
 the head as each met the other's eye ! And 
 when it was in sight, the long wheeze of pre- 
 paration ! And then the outburst — the crash, 
 the triumphant scream — and the march away 
 up the street ! I love it, I tell you — and it 
 nearly always makes me cry. I think that 
 fair Helen was moved too. As for the Baron,
 
 81 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 I'll swear that he didn't miss anything. He 
 never did. 
 
 Our part up at the house — since the whole 
 thing had got on our nerves — was to be as 
 unconcerned as possible. We would not be 
 on the steps. Sir Roderick should have them 
 to himself. Those of us who were at home — 
 all the men except myself and Hector were 
 on the moors, and a good many of the women 
 — obstinately sat in the hall with the tea-things. 
 Lady Mark — as bad as any of us by now — 
 insisted on my playing draughts with her. 
 She said it would look " informal " ; she thought 
 it would " put them at their ease." Amusing 
 way of putting the Cool Cucumber at his 
 ease ! He might be trusted to do that for 
 himself. 
 
 When Sir Roderick brought her in, Lady 
 Mark's informality ceased. She was much 
 too interested in Hector's " passion," as she 
 called Helena. She saw instantly that she 
 was all right — and she certainly was. I'm no 
 good at lady's dresses — broad effects for me. 
 I content myself by recording that it was 
 black and white, that it seemed to drape her 
 and be unwilling to leave her, if you under- 
 stand me. It looked to me very expensive.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 82 
 
 Then she had an early Victorian hat, a long, 
 drooping, flagged affair, with a black feather. 
 It was very big and very black. It set her 
 pale face off — it made that look like a moon 
 steering through a dark rain-cloud. And there 
 was Hector, adoring her from a respectful 
 distance in the background ! She knew it : 
 and how immensely touched and gratified she 
 was with it all ! So much for that. She 
 smiled a very friendly greeting to me and 
 allowed me to kiss her hand — anyhow, that is 
 what I took upon me to do. She was quite 
 self-possessed and, if I may say so, ready for 
 anything. She felt herself, very pardonably, 
 to be making an effective entrance. Every 
 woman knows that kind of thing. 
 
 Hector waited upon the Baron, as I sup- 
 posed ; and pretty soon I heard the two sticks 
 and guessed at the dragging glide. At the 
 open door he stood to rest, propped upon 
 them, confronting the citadel, as it were, 
 with the gallant and weathered eye of 
 an old campaigner. Here he was then — up 
 against it. He must have known it. He 
 took us all in at a glance ; he sized the whole 
 thing up. He was hard put to it for his 
 breath, I guess ; but he masked his fatigue 
 with that dauntless smile of his which always
 
 AND PRETTY SOON I HEARD THE TWO STICKS AND GUESSED 
 AT THE DRAGGING GIJDE "
 
 83 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 endeared him to me, ghoul or no ghoul. A 
 cool cucumber indeed was the Baron von 
 Broderode. 
 
 And how he played up at the tea-table ! 
 How he massed his forces for the attack on 
 his traitor tell-tale hands, how he was beaten, 
 how he returned to the assault again and again ! 
 How he talked, joked, relished everything 
 through what must have been devastating 
 efforts ! After all, a man with a zest like that 
 was a man. Lady Mark told me afterwards 
 that she thought him a dangerous man, be- 
 cause, forsooth, " he took so much for granted." 
 I discovered after a bit what she meant. He 
 had taken her nationality for granted. He 
 told her in a few minutes that he knew America, 
 and even surmised that she came from New 
 England — which, in fact, she did. I suppose 
 it was a shot ; but it was just like him (a) 
 to have made it, (b) to have been right. Mrs. 
 Vane, too, who was the wife of the money- 
 hunting Colonel — he was ready for her. He 
 told her he had met a Captain Vane in India — 
 and gave the year. It was the Colonel ! 
 You couldn't get away from the Baron any- 
 where, even on the wings of the morning. 
 
 After tea, although it was getting dusk, Sir 
 Roderick had them out into the gardens. The
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 84 
 
 Baron excused himself and retired to his 
 rooms, where I suppose his man and his Teresa 
 had got things snug for him. He had brought 
 his Teresa. Helena went off between father 
 and son ; and in due course we all took our 
 ways. The shooters came in late, and her 
 first public appearance was before dinner. 
 
 They were all assembled when she came 
 downstairs. Even the Baron had got himself 
 down before her. She not only looked very 
 beautiful, but extremely young for her thirty. 
 It was then that Patrick said that hers might 
 be the face that had the ships' 
 
 u 
 
 Crowded in Aulis like white birds." 
 
 She was in black — with the family diamonds, 
 or some of them, in her hair. 
 
 Sir Roderick, with his infallible eye for 
 stage-sentiment, had his young men about 
 him, and presented them formally. Bearded, 
 red Wynyard — " our mighty hunter, Baroness," 
 then Pierpoint, " like some hot amorist " 
 — " and this is my scapegrace, Pierpoint," 
 who said, " You do me honour, sir," and 
 stooped burning bright over her. I saw her 
 look up with her friendly smile — and then I 
 saw her eyes flicker and fail. Then came 
 Patrick, who introduced himself — " I'm Patrick
 
 85 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 — how do you do ? " He spared the rest of 
 them. Lady Mark presented her lord, who 
 bowed, and received a bow. Then the pipes 
 burst out — the Baron said Ha ! very loud, 
 and we proceeded to dinner. 
 
 Dinner was rather heavy, I thought. There 
 was too much of the banquet about it. Sir 
 Roderick might have been the Lord Mayor 
 entertaining royalty. There was nothing of 
 the modern light hand about the old chief. 
 On her other side there was Lord Mark, who 
 did his best. You could describe Lord Mark 
 best in wine-merchant language, as a perfect 
 table wine, " very light and dry." Hector 
 was solemn, rather like a sweet port ; Wynyard 
 ate his food, and Pierpoint was bored. I had a 
 girl to look after who had hitherto been at one 
 of the round tables where the young things 
 kept up their brisk cannonades of small jokes 
 and bread pills. I too did my best ; but she 
 looked over her shoulder more than once, and 
 more than once wondered " what they were 
 doing." I advised her finally to go there on 
 all-fours and find out. She liked the idea, 
 but funked it. 
 
 By far the best company was the Baron. 
 He never gave in ; he ate of everything ;
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 86 
 
 drank champagne ; made jokes and laughed 
 at them ; told anecdotes across the table ; 
 you never saw a man so much at ease in the 
 midst of struggles which would have worn 
 down Antaeus. I didn't know whether to 
 envy the more his spirit or his zest. Pierpoint 
 interested him because of his perfections — 
 I could see that. He talked across Lady 
 Mark, and when the young man's attention 
 wandered, he brought it back again by talking 
 at him. He was evidently studying Pierpoint, 
 and I wondered if he had seen that conquering 
 glance before which his fair wife had abased 
 her eyes. Was it possible that the Baron 
 was a jealous husband ? I certainly had 
 reason to ask as time went on, because 
 it became evident to everybody, almost 
 from the start, that Pierpoint was out for 
 scalps. 
 
 When we joined the ladies, things went 
 much better. The bridge players roped in the 
 Baron, as I knew they would. The heroic man 
 assented, and I fancy that Colonel Vane 
 dropped money. He had told me before 
 dinner that he had won ten shillings off Patrick, 
 on the moors, for two right-and-lefts running. 
 " And by Gad, I wanted it ! " — he had not
 
 87 THE STATE VISIT 
 
 failed to add. But I believe that he met his 
 match in the Baron. 
 
 As for the others, there was to be a rag, 
 Patrick said — and there was a rag. We played 
 all sorts of foolish games. I only remember 
 Forfeits because I have a vision of Pierpoint 
 kneeling on one knee before Helena and telling 
 her that she must " do something " to him. 
 
 She looked adorable — confused and happy 
 at once. Her eyes very bright and kind. 
 " What must I do to you ? " she asked him. 
 
 He didn't shirk it. " You may do any 
 mortal thing you like to me," he said. 
 
 She hesitated, seemed to hover over him, 
 then put her hand lightly on his shoulder for a 
 minute and let it stay there. 
 
 " The accolade," she told him. 
 
 " I am your knight, then," he said, " Knight 
 of St. Helena." Then he got up. It was 
 really very pretty.
 
 VII : SETTLING IN 
 
 I had work to do which kept me at the desk 
 all my mornings, so I am not clear as to the 
 immediate course of events. There was great 
 play, from the very beginning, but I can't 
 be sure how it went. So far as I could judge 
 from a few casual glimpses, or a gibe or two 
 let fly by the youths, Pierpoint made the 
 running. He was, of course, the beauty, and 
 he founded himself upon that. Even Pat 
 acknowledged a kind of droit de seigneur in 
 his glowing brother. But the fact is that 
 they took her to the family heart from the 
 beginning, and to find out why they did 
 would be a curious inquiry. My own belief 
 is that it was because she was so evidently 
 pleased to be there. Nothing pleases people 
 so much as to discover that they are pleasing. 
 That makes you enthusiastic. You say, What 
 a delightful girl ! She likes me ! Every Mal- 
 leson of them, I think, felt like that about 
 Helena — from the chief, who adored women, 
 especially young ones, and would have given 
 
 88
 
 89 SETTLING IN 
 
 up his kingdom for a daughter, down to 
 Patrick the insipient, who, for the matter 
 of that, liked everybody. I used to see her 
 dance away in the mornings with a whole 
 bevy of them about her, to see dogs, or to 
 bathe, or sail, as the case might be ; and it 
 was delightful to note her intense appreciation 
 of the flickering, random, high-spirited pack. 
 If the chief went with them she used to affect 
 sedateness and stay behind to talk, or rather 
 to hear him talk. He showed her views, 
 trees planted by crowned heads, funeral 
 mounds of old horses, dogs' tombstones, and 
 all the rest of it. She bent him filial atten- 
 tion — and he revelled in it. Once she went 
 off for a walk with Hector ; but only once, 
 so far as I know. I used to imagine that she 
 and Hector had an understanding by which 
 they could take each other's feelings for 
 granted — but I'm not so sure about it now. 
 Wynyard was the dark horse of the lot. He 
 took her very bluntly after his manner. The 
 more he had liked her the less he would have 
 shown it. I knew that and used to watch for 
 it. I noticed a curt address of her once or twice. 
 She was considering whether she should go out 
 with the shooters. He said he didn't think it was 
 the place for women. I saw her bite her lip.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 90 
 
 As for the Baron, they fitted him up with 
 a pony and took him out every day. I under- 
 stood from Wynyard, who was an expert, 
 that he did very well. " Gets his gun up like 
 lightning and fires at the instant. He's a 
 sportsman." This was high praise from Wyn- 
 yard, and a long speech from the silent man 
 of the house. But the Baron was a great 
 success, and I gathered from his expansion 
 at dinner that he knew it, and that all went 
 well with him. He, too, pleased, and was 
 pleased. 
 
 She, oddly enough, did not do so well with 
 the women. They were a little bit cool to 
 her, it seemed. Lady Mark said that she 
 was secretive. I don't quite know what she 
 meant, unless it was that Helena didn't 
 choose to talk about her admirers as if they 
 were pet dogs. The girls, too, were a little 
 bit jealous : perhaps they thought her too 
 young for her age — and perhaps, poor dear, 
 she was. She had every excuse if, as I expect, 
 she had never been young before. Hector 
 took her out riding one or two days, but not 
 alone ; one day she was on the moors — at 
 Wynyard's invitation. She marched about 
 with guns, lunched at a sheiling, and was 
 rather bored. That may have been because
 
 91 SETTLING IN 
 
 shooting under Wynyard's marshalling was 
 apt to be so mighty serious. She confessed 
 to Hector afterwards that she didn't like to 
 see things killed, although she thought we 
 did it as kindly as it could be done. She was 
 greatly struck by British kindness, and dis- 
 posed to trust it a very long way. She told 
 me that in a half -hour of expansion. " I 
 have never been in England before — " she 
 began, and I thought I had better tell her 
 that she wasn't in England now. " No, no," 
 she said, " I know — I have made that blunder 
 already. Patrick stopped me. I hope Sir 
 Roderick didn't hear me. But at home we 
 have the habit of talking of you all as the 
 English." 
 
 " We'll let it pass this time," I said, and 
 then invited her to proceed. 
 
 She said, " I am lost in admiration at two 
 things. First, that you are so good-looking, 
 and next that you are so gentle. I think it 
 is because you are proud. It seems beneath 
 your dignity to be savage, or to speak disdain- 
 fully to servants." 
 
 I said that I thought we were rather slack 
 than proud. " It's not worth while being 
 angry with a servant. The great thing is to 
 let them alone. If that don't answer, thev
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 92 
 
 must go. That's how we look at it, I 
 think." 
 
 She wasn't listening, but seemed lost in 
 reverie. Then she said, " They are awfully 
 kind to me — and all for nothing, but gentle- 
 ness ! " 
 
 I said, " It would be very hard to be any- 
 thing but gentle in your case." 
 
 She was pleased. " Ah," she said, " you 
 have no idea how grateful I am for kindness. 
 It touches me deeply — always." 
 
 " Surely," I said, " you must be prepared 
 for that." 
 
 She misunderstood me. " You mean — by 
 Mr. Malleson — Mr. Hector ? Yes, indeed. I 
 think he has very noble ideals. He seems to 
 me a beautiful nature — but " 
 
 I waited. 
 
 " But — " she didn't know how to put it — 
 then gave it up. " Tell me about the others. 
 What do they do ? Do they always lead this 
 happy life ? Have they no professions ? One 
 is in the marine, I think ? That is Mr. Nigel, 
 who is not here ? " I nodded. " Then one 
 is in Orders — in our Church ? " 
 
 " Yes," I said. " Spenser Malleson's a 
 priest. And a missionary at that. He's out 
 in China, waiting for the toasting-fork."
 
 93 SETTLING IN 
 
 " And Mr. Wynyard — what does Mr. Wyn- 
 yard do when he is not killing ? " 
 
 I laughed. " He prepares to kill. He does 
 nothing else. But he's a great naturalist. 
 He kills in kindness. He's awfully fond of 
 birds, really. You may not agree, but that's 
 why he's such a good shot." 
 
 She said, " I would agree if I understood." 
 After a bit she said, with a quite perceptible 
 taking of breath, " And Pierpoint — Mr. Pier- 
 point ? " 
 
 " Pierpoint," I told her, " is a soldier. He's 
 cavalry — a Lancer. But he's on leave now. 
 He's a fine-looking boy, don't you think ? " 
 
 She looked down. " He is very handsome. 
 I don't think I have ever seen a man so hand- 
 some. But you call him a boy ? " 
 
 " I call him a boy," I said, " because I am 
 forty-two." 
 
 She looked up. " And he is ? " 
 
 " I don't know to a year how old Pierpoint 
 is," I said, though it wasn't true. " But he 
 is not forty-two, I assure you." 
 
 She laughed. " No, indeed. But one sees 
 he is not a boy." 
 
 " No, no," I said. " It was only a figure 
 of speech. He is full-grown." 
 
 There we came to a stop about Pierpoint —
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 94 
 
 or it seemed so. She made a wide cast, and 
 began again on Hector. 
 
 " Mr. Hector," she said, " is very unlike 
 his brothers." 
 
 " Yes," I admitted. " He is unlike all that 
 you see here. Physically, he's like Patrick. 
 Don't you see it ? They favour their mother's 
 family. She was Lord Mark's sister. Morally, 
 he's like Spenser, the priest. An enthusiast, 
 an idealist of a rather pronounced type. 
 Everything is either coal-black or snow-white 
 to Hector. He don't know the word com- 
 promise. But he's very pussy about it. He 
 keeps quiet till he's wanted — or thinks that 
 he's wanted." 
 
 Her eyes shone. " Yes, that is so true. I 
 wished to ask you about that. As you say, 
 he is very quiet, very gentle. But these 
 others — they are strong, they are swift and 
 proud. They are like their father — what a 
 fine man he is ! He knows that he is a king. 
 He walks the world as if it was his. But 
 when Hector is head of the house — or as he 
 is now, the heir of it — how does he exert 
 authority ? Or has he no authority over 
 them ? Do they listen to his advice ? Do 
 they obey him ? He is so quiet ! " 
 
 I laughed — not derisively at all — apprecia-
 
 95 SETTLING IN 
 
 tively rather. " Yes, he is quiet," I said. 
 " You might call him mild. But they know 
 better. I feel sure — I know — that when he 
 takes Sir Roderick's place he will have the 
 power which Sir Roderick has. If he were 
 to say to Wynyard, ' Look here, it is absolutely 
 necessary for my health that you should 
 drown yourself to-morrow morning in the 
 bay,' Wynyard would do it." 
 
 She said, " You are laughing at me." 
 
 I assured her that I was not. " It's an 
 extreme case, of course, but the principle is 
 sound. Convince one of these fellows that 
 it is up to him to do something for Hector's 
 sake — he'll do it. He must." 
 
 She took that very seriously. She liked it. 
 
 I went on. " Mind you, there's the other 
 side of the proposition, which is equally bind- 
 ing. I know that Hector would go the same 
 lengths for one of them. He would stick at 
 nothing. He would see it as his duty. He 
 would stick at nothing on earth. And, of 
 course, they know that. Both terms of the 
 proposition are in the blood. They've been 
 bred to it." 
 
 She had me then. " Do you think that the 
 priest would be like that — like the others ? " 
 That was clever of her.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 96 
 
 I said, " Spenser is a priest. He's not a 
 Jesuit, but they reared him. That's an iron 
 system. I won't answer for Spenser. But 
 I'll tell you this : Hector might think it his 
 duty to be burned at the stake for Spenser — 
 and burned he would be." 
 
 She thanked me for talking to her, which 
 I assured her she needn't have done. It was 
 exciting to watch her as she listened and 
 thrilled. She was like some beautiful insect — 
 with new wings quivering in the light. I 
 wondered what would happen to her with 
 Hector on one side of her, Pierpoint on the 
 other — and the grim old Baron drinking cigar- 
 smoke against the wall. 
 
 After a bit the positions began to shift, 
 and develop themselves. Pierpoint openly 
 paid court to her, and Hector wasn't happy. 
 That was clear enough to anybody. Old 
 Miss Bacchus, who came up a day or two 
 after the von Broderodes, took it all in the 
 first night she was there. She went every- 
 where, as they say, and knew everybody. 
 She was a hideous lady, with a red front of 
 somebody else's hair — " another man's hair," 
 as Patrick put it — but there was no nonsense 
 about her. When we went into the drawing- 
 room, and Pierpoint, as his custom now was,
 
 97 SETTLING IN 
 
 went straight to Helena and sat by her, as 
 if she belonged to him, Hector stood with his 
 back to the fire and looked unutterable things. 
 Miss Bacchus came and plumped down by 
 me. 
 
 " I say," she began, " I don't know what 
 all this is about — do you ? " 
 
 I said, " All what ? " But it wouldn't do. 
 
 " My dear man," she said, " why put it 
 off ? I'm like the dentist. You'll feel better 
 afterwards." 
 
 I said, " I've a horror of your gouges. You 
 call it moral pressure, I know. You should 
 let a poor beggar alone. I never did you any 
 harm." 
 
 " Look at her," said Miss Bacchus, and I 
 did. " You know," she went on, " that woman 
 has never been made a fuss about before ; 
 and she likes it — she likes it awfully. She'll 
 lose her head — that's what she'll do. And 
 Pierpoint's no good, you know. He's a rogue." 
 
 " Not a roguey-poguey, I trust," I said. 
 
 "No," she said, "that's the female of rogue. 
 Now Hector wouldn't do her any harm." 
 
 " Wouldn't he ? " I didn't want to discuss 
 my friend's affairs with this too candid dame. 
 
 At this moment, without any warning, 
 she fetched me a crack on the knee with her
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 98 
 
 fan. " You talk to Hector," she said. " He's 
 your friend. You ought to." 
 
 " I'll tell him what you say," I told her. 
 She snorted. 
 
 " For twopence I'd talk to him myself. 
 But he wouldn't listen to me. He'd say it 
 wasn't honourable." 
 
 " Well," I said, " there's something in that, 
 you know." 
 
 Miss Bacchus scorned me. " You talk like 
 Mr. Brooke. Honour be blowed. Look at 
 Pierpoint. What does he think about ? He's 
 like a little dog or a little boy — he thinks of 
 what he wants, and nothing else." 
 That sort get on," I said. 
 That sort get run over at a crossing pretty 
 often," said Miss Bacchus. 
 
 " Baron von Broderode likes both of them," 
 I told her. " But he likes Pierpoint best." 
 
 Miss Bacchus gave me a cool stare. " Is 
 that your little idea ? " she said. " Well, 
 let me tell you that you are dead wrong. The 
 Baron dislikes Pierpoint extremely." 
 
 " My dear friend, how do you know that ? " 
 I asked her. 
 
 " Because," she said, " he is so friendly 
 with him. Don't you see that the Baron 
 never shirks a thing ? Don't you see that 

 
 99 SETTLING IN 
 
 he comes to terms with it — whether it's a 
 man after his wife, or locomotor ataxy after 
 him — he'll never compromise. Come on, he 
 says, let's have a look at you. God bless 
 me, where are your eyes ? " 
 
 " They are upon you," I said, " with admira- 
 tion and envy. You have been in his com- 
 pany about two hours and a half. You have 
 never exchanged a word with him. But you 
 have got him in spirits." 
 
 " No, I haven't," she said with head- 
 shaking ; " no, my dear man, I haven't. 
 He's got himself in 'em. Nobody in this 
 house is going to get the Baron. Don't you 
 make any mistake. Now, I'll tell you some- 
 thing. He's in the next room playing bridge, 
 isn't he ? Very well. Now I'll undertake 
 to say that he could give you a chart showing 
 where she is, where Pierpoint is, and where 
 Hector is. Although he's seen nothing of 
 'em! . . . And another thing. I'll bet you 
 half-a-crown that before the Broderodes go 
 the Baron will ask Pierpoint to come and 
 shoot with him in Galicia. Do you take 
 that ? " 
 
 I said that I would rather not. The odd 
 part of the tale is that the Baron did ask 
 him.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 100 
 
 She was a good old soul, though. I watched 
 her with amazement go directly from me to 
 the other end of the room and plump herself 
 down beside Helena. I thought that the 
 beauty was annoyed — and she might very 
 well have been so ; but she had very pretty 
 manners. Miss Bacchus " butted in," as Lady 
 Mark would say, with the utmost gallantry, 
 and (as I could see) brought Pierpoint smartly 
 to heel in a few rounds. After a little more 
 she beckoned Hector over with a toss of her 
 head, and I saw the poor chap swallow his 
 mortification and be all the better for it. 
 Pierpoint got sick of it and took himself off. 
 We saw no more of him. And then Miss 
 Bacchus, her fairy godmothership accom- 
 plished, limped away on her own account. 
 I was delighted to receive a friendly wink 
 as she passed me. " Cooked his goose for 
 him," she said — in what she thought, no 
 doubt, was a whisper. 
 
 Helena was being quite kind to Hector. 
 Evidently she thought that she had mis- 
 behaved. 
 
 Now I come to the ball — but must have 
 a new chapter for it.
 
 VIII : EUPHEMIA 
 
 It was a yearly business, the Inveroran Ball. 
 It always followed the Highland Gathering ; 
 and after it there was a servants' ball. All 
 these were great spectacles for the Baron, 
 who prepared himself for them with German 
 thoroughness, but also with a southern bright- 
 ness which belongs only to his branch of the 
 Teuton family. He read a book upon the 
 clans, and got to know the tartans. He said 
 to me, " They are like the Greeks, these Gaels 
 — like Greeks in the rain. You have the clan 
 Nestor, the clan Tydeus, the clan Peleus, the 
 clan Atreus. But you have no Homer to sing 
 of them. You have Ossian — who weeps and 
 has a hump." He never got the argot quite 
 right. " Yes, that is right," he chuckled. 
 " Ossian has a hump, and the reader wants an 
 umbrella." He was very pleased with that, 
 but I told him that the Highland Gathering 
 would produce no umbrellas. He wanted to 
 know about the Gathering. I said that it was 
 very like the games in Scheria when Odysseus 
 
 101
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 102 
 
 scored off the Phseacians. " So ! " said the 
 Baron. " But Odysseus, where is he ? " We 
 exchanged looks, and he shrugged his great 
 shoulders. " Once," he said, " I could have 
 been he. Now I am what you see." It was 
 the only time, during my acquaintance with 
 him, that he ever admitted incapacity. He 
 did it without any trace of bitterness : I don't 
 think he felt any grudge against Providence. 
 He would have been the first to admit that he 
 had had his whack. 
 
 He was always very friendly with me, and 
 seemed to find me provocative of jocularity ; 
 I don't know why, unless it was a reminiscence 
 of Chevenix, who had been in my company 
 when we first met. Chevenix had a way of 
 impressing himself on the tourist. He had a 
 very pronounced voice and his anecdotes were 
 often intimate. " As your gold-tipt friend 
 would say," was the Baron's signal for a 
 laborious pleasantry. So it was that when it 
 was arranged he should ride his pony down to 
 the meeting, he asked me to ride with him. 
 
 We went down therefore together. They 
 held the sports in a great field between Oran- 
 mouth and the town. It was called the Port 
 Field and ran up to the edge of the moors 
 in a fine amphitheatre of foothills. Ben Mor,
 
 103 EUPHEMIA 
 
 the great mountain of these parts, filled the 
 distance with rock and cloud. 
 
 " You English," said he, " are a strange race. 
 I suppose you have not possessed the High- 
 lands for more than two hundred, two hundred- 
 fifty years, but already you have taught 
 the Highlander to play at life. What is Sir 
 Roderick but a white-bearded schoolboy ? 
 Is it not so ? " 
 
 I said that Sir Roderick had been educated 
 in England, but at bottom was quite un- 
 English. 
 
 " And his sons — ! " The Baron threw up 
 his whip hand. " These fine young men — do 
 they not play ? " 
 
 I admitted that they did ; but I added that 
 they worked at it. 
 
 " Yes, that is true. As your friend would 
 say, they work at their play, and they play at 
 their work. You can't tell one from the other." 
 
 " No," I agreed, " you can't. And that's 
 why they work so well. There's gusto there." 
 That set him nodding his head and frowning. 
 He knew all about gusto. 
 
 When we were pacing down the main street 
 his eyes were all about. He noticed the little 
 poky shops ; he was tickled by the holystone 
 patterns on the thresholds. He was pleased,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 104 
 
 with the way private houses were interspersed 
 with places of business. " There," he said, as 
 we passed Rosemount, "is a pretty doll's 
 house." 
 
 Rosemount is just that. A white house with 
 a green slate roof ; a neat little forecourt of 
 green turf divided by a brick-on-edge path. 
 An auraucaria on one side, an Irish yew on the 
 other ; a little white gate ; red blinds, half- 
 drawn, in all the windows. Charming with the 
 gleam of sunlight shining on wet slates and 
 splashing half the face. I told him that they 
 called it Naboth's Vineyard at the Castle. 
 
 " So ! " he said, and frowned over the name. 
 
 I explained that it was the only house in the 
 whole town — the only house in the whole 
 district — which did not belong to the Mallesons. 
 It involved a long story — about a mistress of 
 Sir Alastair Malleson, who had it given her and 
 used it to affront the lady he subsequently 
 married. Euphemia Grant, her name was, 
 and it had belonged to her family ever since. 
 The story was picturesque because of its ex- 
 crescence. A blight upon our host's family 
 was believed to depend upon it. 
 
 The Baron, greatly interested, pulled up his 
 pony. " Tell me that story, if you please," 
 he said, and fixed me with his eye.
 
 105 EUPHEMIA 
 
 The story very shortly was that Sir Alastair, 
 who afterwards went out in the '45 and was 
 shot at Derby from behind a hedge, had in his 
 roaming days carried off Euphemia Grant and 
 kept her at the Castle. There she reigned until 
 he took a wife. Euphemia's people, who had 
 been quite in a small way, instead of disowning 
 her as you might have expected, took her back 
 again, and set her up in Rosemount as a thorn 
 in the side of Sir Alastair. She was known to 
 the country as Madam Grant, and grew to be 
 much respected for her implacability. She 
 never married, but lived at Rosemount alone, 
 when in the course of nature and the law the 
 place was left to her. On her death-bed she 
 cursed the Mallesons, declaring that there would 
 never be a daughter to the house again while 
 Rosemount stood. The odd thing was that 
 there never had been. Sir Alastair's wife had 
 two sons, but no daughter. His successor, Sir 
 Archibald, had no children at all. Sir Ronald 
 had sons and a daughter who died a child ; and 
 so it had gone on until here was Sir Roderick 
 a widower with a regiment of sons and no 
 daughter. One might laugh, in England, at 
 such things ; but they didn't laugh in Scotland. 
 Sir Roderick believed in it as he did in the Old 
 Testament. He had so far demeaned himself
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 106 
 
 as to write with his own hand to the owner of 
 Rosemount. He would give anything you 
 please for the place. But the Grants persisted, 
 and could not be moved. An old Peter Grant 
 held it now; but he was a Glasgow merchant 
 and never occupied it. Nothing would induce 
 him to sell it. 
 
 The Baron seemed to think this absurd. 
 In his country, he said, they would make short 
 work of Peter Grant. I asked him, How ? 
 lightly enough, and a very odd thing occurred. 
 I saw him suddenly transported with rage. His 
 eyes flashed fire; he was purplish red in the 
 face. He shook his fist at the sky. " How ? " 
 he trumpeted. " How ? Why, Ave squeeze 
 him ! " Shkveeze him ! — I can't find signs to 
 express it. But the concentration of shudder- 
 ing rage which he put into it would pass your 
 belief. I was astounded, and he saw I was, 
 for he instantly laughed it off. " The damned 
 fellow ! " he said lightly, and began to talk of 
 something else. I thought about this out- 
 burst for a long time c I am quite sure that he 
 wanted to squeeze somebody, and equally clear 
 that it wasn't Peter Grant. 
 
 He was all smiles and nods and becks at the 
 Gathering, however. He was introduced to 
 the local Marchioness, and stayed it out to the
 
 107 EUPHEMIA 
 
 last. I think he would have seen the fireworks 
 with a little encouragement. Wynyard, as 
 usual, tossed the pine-stem. I saw the Baron 
 look wistful. He rode across the field to shake 
 hands with him for that ; and Wynyard 
 thanked him. 
 
 The day ended with a sort of enthronization 
 of Helena. She gave away the prizes, and did 
 it charmingly. Without a hint to the purpose, 
 by the intuition which all nice women have, 
 she made the little speeches to the agonists 
 which mean so much to them. Pierpoint got 
 one, Wynyard, of course, two, and several fine 
 blue-eyed Mallesons from the hills heard their 
 names and exploits from her smiling lips. 
 Sanders Malleson the piper, when he got his, 
 nearly burst with pride. His eye flashed, he 
 threw his head up ; then he bowed deeply to 
 her, turned and struck up the Austrian Anthem. 
 He marched away with it as if he were plunging 
 into battle. Helena stood where she was 
 perched up on the dais and watched him with 
 clasped hands. Her eyes filled with tears at 
 the reckless finery of the noise. She was no 
 Austrian, but the good chap didn't know that 
 — and, of course, she knew that he didn't. 
 It was the swagger and gallantry as much as 
 the compliment which moved her.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 108 
 
 The Baron, sitting his pony, took off his hat 
 and watched everything from beneath frown- 
 ing brows. I don't think he liked it. But he 
 made a point of congratulating Pierpoint upon 
 his triumphs.
 
 IX : THE BALL 
 
 All this by way of prelude to the ball which 
 followed it. That was Helena's day. There 
 was nobody to touch her. She had been quiet 
 at the Gathering, sedate while all the young 
 men capered and ran about, as it were, for her 
 approving smiles. And they got them, no 
 doubt ; but they all had their share. She 
 gave them back all that they gave her. She 
 had had herself well in hand that day, and there 
 was no difficulty in calling her thirty at least. 
 But at the ball she looked like a girl. She wore 
 cloth of silver, cut rather narrow, and made 
 very plainly. Her neck was bare of ornament. 
 She had a snake — a flexible snake — of silver 
 in her hair ; and I believe that was all. You 
 didn't want jewels with eyes like hers. Hector 
 got flowers for her, but she couldn't dance 
 with flowers in her hand and soon discarded 
 them. Her best flowers were in her cheeks. 
 She was naturally a pale woman ; but she was 
 excited. That gave her an exquisite flush. 
 There's a rose called Madame de Watteville 
 
 109
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 110 
 
 which comes nearest to it. She certainly was 
 a lovely creature that night — and she danced 
 from the beginning to the very end of the end. 
 If it hadn't been for the Highland things — 
 reels and strathspeys — my poor friend would 
 have had no show ; for Hector was no dancer. 
 You could see that by the look of him. He 
 held himself too stiffly ; he was too serious ; 
 if you understand me, he was too much the 
 gentleman for anything short of a contredanse 
 or a minuet. He would have tripped through 
 that I don't doubt. He was good at bowing, 
 and used to take his hat off as if he was going 
 into church when he met a lady. But I don't 
 think anything would have tempted him to put 
 his arm round a girl's waist — I mean, any 
 waist ; and as for banging her about in the 
 ultra-modern way, he would sooner have gone 
 to hell — indeed, would have been there while 
 he was at that rude game. So he took the 
 reels in her company, and I caught sight of them 
 now and again — of him talking and of her 
 looking down at her silver toes while she listened. 
 She wasn't a great talker, but she was an 
 awfully good listener. She was one of the 
 women to whom men love to talk of themselves. 
 She chattered nonsense to the boys like any 
 girl, however — to Patrick and some of his pert
 
 Ill THE BALL 
 
 young friends. As for Pier point — well, per- 
 sonally, I was touched by her excitement and 
 complacency in his company. 
 
 I had one dance with her myself, about mid- 
 way through the first act — the before- supper 
 act — during which things were going pretty 
 well. I mean that the Marchioness was there, 
 with two of her girls, the Ladies Rosalind and 
 Alice, and that Pierpoint, who was a great 
 intimate at Dunmally, had done something of 
 his duty by them. Lady Larbert was a little, 
 thin, upright woman with very bright black 
 eyes. She wore a tiara better than anyone I 
 ever saw, as if she had every right to it — 
 birth, purchase and air — which she certainly 
 had. She was noble, she was rich, and very 
 smart. She was so smart that she had no need 
 whatever for seeming to be. So she never did. 
 Even when she wore her diamonds she didn't 
 seem to know it. She had her fancies — one 
 of them was to be bored at Inveroran ; another 
 was to be fond of Pierpoint. She must have 
 known what he was, and she ought to have 
 known that he would never do for one of her 
 girls — but she risked that because she liked his 
 good looks. 
 
 She didn't approve of Helena. I saw her 
 eyes glitter bleakly as the pretty creature was
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 112 
 
 swished about by our high-coloured young 
 friend. But she had no pique for him ; she 
 put it all down to Helena's score, and paid off 
 part of it by striking up a great friendship with 
 the Baron. They hobnobbed at considerable 
 length in the anteroom, the conservatory, and 
 elsewhere, and I should like to have overheard 
 them, because the Baron could be the very 
 best of company when he pleased. There was 
 nothing local about him. He was the perfect 
 cosmopolitan. I heard also afterwards — as I 
 might have supposed — that he knew at least 
 two of her boys, the one at Bucharest, the other 
 in Constantinople. He had probably met 
 Dunmally, the eldest, in several places, proper 
 and improper. 
 
 But, on the whole, and with one unfortunate 
 exception, there was no trouble until the Lar- 
 berts were off our hands. 
 
 My own dance with Helena was a revelation 
 to me, though I had understood that Austrians 
 could dance. It was like floating a rose-leaf, 
 it was like steering a foam-bubble. She was 
 exquisitely yet impalpably there ; the leading 
 spirit^drawing you on, inexhaustible yet sub- 
 servient. She inspired rather than led you. 
 It was like the guidance of a spirit — the spirit 
 of wingless flight. Wings would have been an
 
 113 THE BALL 
 
 offence to such motion as she evoked. You 
 would have felt their beat, it would have jarred. 
 Her motion was rather that of a stream of soft 
 strong wind, filling space, and drawing you 
 after it into finer and cleaner climes. She 
 didn't talk, nor did I ; she seemed not to 
 breathe — and we didn't stop until the music 
 had ceased to be. I was intoxicated and un- 
 willing to leave her. At the moment I felt like 
 drawing her out into the air, and on and on, 
 over the world — to possess altogether this 
 divinely rare being. 
 
 But we behaved after the human fashion, 
 and talked as rationally as might be. I hope 
 that she didn't see what she might have done 
 with me at the time ; and yet I'm not at all 
 sure that she did not. I remember that she 
 pleaded with me like a child, as if excusing 
 herself for naughtiness. 
 
 " You don't like me — you don't approve of 
 me. No — I feel it. But I'm happy, and you 
 ought not to mind that." This was heady 
 talk. 
 
 "Did I know," she said, "that she hadn't 
 danced for seven and a half years ? " 
 
 I didn't — and didn't quite believe it. 
 
 She assured me it was true. " He — my 
 husband — didn't like it "after " 
 
 H
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 114 
 
 She didn't finish. I said, " Then he won't 
 like me." 
 
 Her eyes were wide. " Oh, yes. He does 
 like you. He likes you very much. He doesn't 
 mind it here. He likes nearly everybody here." 
 
 " So do you, Baroness, I hope." She sighed. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, " that I have been 
 breathing ever since I came to England. 
 Deep, deep breaths I have taken — to make up 
 what I have lost." 
 
 That was touching, and left me speechless ; 
 but there was more to come. She looked 
 timidly at me. There was a humid brightness 
 in her eyes which should have warned me that 
 she was going to be unreserved. 
 
 " You won't misunderstand me ? I shall 
 tell you what it is that I breathe. It is good- 
 will." 
 
 " Oh," I cried, " you will find oceans of that." 
 
 " I do," she said, " and it is so good for me. 
 Do you know what I want more than everything 
 in the world ? It is to be liked by people." 
 
 " Dear Baroness," I said, " everybody in 
 England will love you — " and there I was cut 
 off by Pierpoint, come to claim his share in my 
 promise. 
 
 I don't want to exaggerate — and it's not at 
 all necessary. I believe I am right in stating
 
 115 THE BALL 
 
 that, after supper, Master Pierpoint danced 
 with her all the rest of the night. Of course 
 I wasn't there all the time — I was dancing 
 myself, as the business seemed, so to speak, in 
 the air. I was dancing, and I was sitting out, 
 and when I wasn't doing one of those things 
 I was smoking cigarettes in the conservatory, 
 which opens on to what they call the East 
 drawing-room. It used to be Lady Mary's own 
 room in her days. But whenever I was danc- 
 ing, Pierpoint was whirling Helena about ; or 
 if he wasn't doing that he had her tucked away 
 somewhere. That was what led to trouble — a 
 momentary trouble. She was to have supped 
 with the grandees — but that's just what she 
 didn't do. Sir Roderick had intended to arm 
 her in to that ; but he couldn't find her ; nor 
 could anybody else. My belief is that she had 
 supper in another part of the house altogether, 
 but I don't know it for a fact. There was 
 consequently some electricity about. It was 
 rather pink for a bit. When no one was looking 
 I abstracted her name-card, and with the 
 connivance of Miss Bacchus, friendly old soul, 
 bridged the gap. Lady Larbert glittered like 
 a frost. 
 
 Later on, of course, everybody noticed the 
 goings-on of the pair, and there was a good deal
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 116 
 
 of chattering among the resting couples. Sir 
 Roderick was cross, and, as usual on such 
 occasions, seemed to think it was done to hurt 
 his feelings. He was always like that. He 
 confided himself to Hector, I am sure. I saw 
 him puffing his cheeks, and spreading out his 
 chest ; I caught, " Consideration for me, sir — 
 the commonest civility — " and guessed the rest. 
 But the Baron, as you may guess, never turned 
 a hair. He watched her, as he watched every- 
 thing ; but he set his face harder than a rock, 
 and was always ready with his joke or his 
 elaborate bow. Did he feel that she was 
 slipping through his fingers ? Ah, I don't 
 know. 
 
 I had thought her a tallish woman, and at 
 Gironeggio in particular I thought that she 
 looked every day of her age. In Pierpoint's 
 arms she looked to me like a slip of a girl, 
 so light that her little feet scarcely brushed the 
 floor. The top of her head reached his collar, 
 I suppose ; her cheek lay against the hollow 
 of his shoulder. The other was flushed and 
 sleek. Her eyes looked heavy, and she seldom 
 raised them as he steered or swirled her about. 
 Being of the race she was, you may be sure that 
 she could dance — I have told you what I 
 thought of it ; being of the sort he was, you
 
 117 THE BALL 
 
 may be sure of him too. They made a brave 
 show — and not a year's difference between 
 them, to look at them. You couldn't expect 
 a pretty woman not to like that kind of 
 thing. She liked it awfully. She drank it as 
 her old Baron used to drink cigar-smoke. And 
 why on earth not ? as Miss Bacchus said. 
 She couldn't drink cigar-smoke — nor anything 
 else : at any rate, she never did drink anything 
 but water. So why, asked Miss Bacchus, 
 shouldn't she drink music and motion, and 
 young men's homage, and young men's breath ? 
 That's what she asked me — and I couldn't 
 answer her. " Hang it, man," said the old 
 virgin, " she's not cattle. If he drinks, let her 
 drink. That's what I say." She said more — - 
 but I respect my pen. 
 
 There would have been an explosion at the 
 end — saved by the Baron from being rather 
 serious. The Dunmally lot left after supper, 
 and other guests from outside began to go away 
 at about two in the morning. By three or half- 
 past they were all away. But the house-party 
 kept it up. The last dance was somewhere 
 about five ; and then we all had coffee and 
 buns, and, as Colonel Vane would say, " By 
 Gad, sir, we wanted it."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 118 
 
 The cigarettes came round ; the girls began 
 to smoke ; Helena would not. She was very- 
 still and rich with her escapade. I thought 
 her breathing showed that she was trying to 
 recover herself. The Baron lit a cigar, and 
 looked at her over the horrible dancing flame 
 of his match. I thought he wanted to catch 
 her eye ; but he didn't. 
 
 Pierpoint got up and pulled the curtains 
 back. Then he opened the window wide and 
 looked out, whistling softly to himself. 
 
 He turned round with his fine face sparkling 
 with devilry. " I say, it's a ripping night. 
 Stars all over the place — some of them like 
 lamps. There'll be a gorgeous sunrise. Who'll 
 come with me up the Ben ? " 
 
 There was a hush. I saw the Baron pull 
 himself together. Patrick said, " I shall cleave 
 to my brother." Another youth said, 
 " Right-o," and looked at his late partner. 
 They were all for it. 
 
 Pierpoint was looking at Helena, Hector was 
 looking at her, so was her husband. Presently 
 it came to pass that everybody was either 
 looking at her, or waiting for what she would 
 do. It was a " test case," said Miss Bacchus, 
 perspicuous as usual. 
 
 She sat there, breathing deeply, looking down
 
 119 THE BALL 
 
 at her hand on the table. I know that she 
 wanted to go. I know that if she had gone, 
 there would have been a row. Hector would 
 have lost his temper. Sir Roderick had lost 
 his already. 
 
 The Baron said, " My friend, they want you 
 to go. The air will do you good." 
 
 It was brave of him. He did it verv well 
 indeed. As for her, she looked at nobody but 
 Sir Roderick — neither at her husband, nor 
 Hector, nor at Pierpoint. To Sir Roderick she 
 said, " It would be delightful, but I am too 
 tired. As it is, I shall sleep for ever." Then 
 she got up and smiled rather appealingly — still 
 at Sir Roderick — " I shall say good-night while 
 it is still dark." And then she went quietly 
 away. It was as if she had said, " I know I 
 have been a naughty girl, but you see how good 
 I am trying to be now." 
 
 The Baron said, " So ! " and resumed his 
 cigar. The young ones fidgeted about to see 
 what Pierpoint meant to do. Wynyard went 
 off to bed, and so did I, gladly. I believe that 
 the rest of them did the deed. Pierpoint in the 
 sulks went up exactly as he was — in dancing- 
 pumps. He ought to have limped for the rest 
 of his leave, but he didn't.
 
 X : SEQUELAE 
 
 Hector was very unhappy, it was evident, 
 and I don't wonder. To be cut out by your 
 younger brother is not jolly ; and when he 
 is so resplendently the better man in form 
 and favour, you have the desperate feeling 
 of the foregone conclusion to add to your 
 other troubles. It doesn't make things any 
 better to remind a man who is getting the 
 worst of a deal that he doesn't deserve any- 
 thing better. Perhaps they were a pair of 
 rascals — though I don't admit it ; but even 
 if they were, Hector was a gentleman. A 
 gentleman will fall in love with another man's 
 wife if he — well, if he does. He can't help 
 his feelings — or his tentacles, if you like. 
 It's when he makes love to such a lady that 
 the world calls him names, and — if he is un- 
 successful — opprobrious names. Hector would 
 have been very ready to meet the world on 
 its own ground. He abounded in theory and 
 loved an argument ; but in this case I am 
 
 pretty sure that he had done no love-making — 
 
 120
 
 121 SEQUELS 
 
 unless you call his talks about the rights of 
 beauty love-making. It's a fine point that. 
 Now, as for Mr. Pierpoint, he was a pirate — 
 a freebooter, as you shall hear. 
 
 A day or two after the ball — on the day, 
 in fact, appointed for the von Broderodes' 
 departure, Miss Bacchus sought me out with 
 an air of mystery. She came into the library 
 where I was alone and peacefully at work, 
 and required me to walk with her. " I shall 
 be on the terrace," she said, and left me to 
 my conclusions. 
 
 When we were well away, on the river 
 walk, she said, " You are Hector's friend and 
 will do what you think proper. I've had 
 it out with her — no, that's wrong ; she had it 
 out with me. She did it rather prettily. 
 She came and sat by me in the morning- 
 room, and after a bit put her hand on mine, 
 and spoke with her head on one side, as if 
 she was matching skeins. You know." I 
 did. " Presently she said, 4 Miss Bacchus, 
 I should like you to talk to me a little. I 
 thought that you looked kind — I thought 
 so directly I saw you.' I told her that I was 
 the kindest old thing on two legs, with a bark, 
 but no bite, for good people. That rather 
 caught her. She said, i I hope I am good.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 122 
 
 I ought to be. I want to be.' And then she 
 began and told me all about it. She's a good 
 girl, you know." 
 
 " Miss Bacchus," I said, " before you begin, 
 let me beg of you : no secrets of the bower." 
 
 " Gracious," said she. " Don't you be 
 afraid. You won't get any secrets out of 
 me — because there aren't any — or, if there 
 are, I don't know 'em. But I don't believe 
 it. You know Pierpoint every bit as well 
 as I do " 
 
 " No," I said, " I don't believe I do. He's 
 no friend of mine — and couldn't be, since 
 I'm Hector's friend. As a matter of fact, 
 this time he's hardly exchanged a word with 
 me." 
 
 " I think he's a rogue," said Miss Bacchus ; 
 " but she doesn't. She admits that he's made 
 a great impression on her. She says that 
 what makes it difficult is that her husband 
 seems to like him. Now I don't understand 
 that." 
 
 " I do," I said. " He hates him like poison, 
 really, but he despises him. He knows that 
 he could deal with the likes of Pierpoint. But 
 he has a respect for Hector, who he thinks 
 has done him a really bad turn. He hates 
 Hector fundamentally — Pierpoint just on the .
 
 123 SEQUELAE 
 
 surface. Pierpoint's a flea to him ; Hector's 
 a disease." 
 
 " Well," said Miss Bacchus, " you're taking 
 me out of my depth. I don't know anything 
 of psychology — never did. All I know is 
 that Pierpoint kissed her the night of the 
 ball." 
 
 " Well," I said, " I should think so." 
 
 " Just what I said to her," said Miss Bacchus. 
 " i I'll warrant him,' I said. But she was 
 very penitent." 
 
 " I like her for that," I said. " She's got 
 a gentle heart." 
 
 " Amor a cor gentile ratto s'apprende," 
 said Miss Bacchus with aptness and elegance. 
 " I made little of it. 4 Pooh ! ' I said, ' what's 
 a kiss in a conservatory ? ' Then she was 
 really rather funny, poor dear " 
 
 " No secrets of the bower," I implored her, 
 but she was inexorable with a good tale in 
 her head. 
 
 " Helena said, ' No, I suppose not — but 
 one was in the library.' I did my best, but 
 she felt me shaking — and looked so unhappy 
 that I gave her a kiss myself." 
 
 " That was kind of you," I said. 
 
 " Well," said Miss Bacchus, " damn it all, 
 you know."
 
 (« 
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 124 
 
 I thought myself that the story was a good 
 one, but that two kisses admitted was rather 
 a serious matter — from all points of view. 
 It almost established a habit, it certainly 
 established a precedent. Miss Bacchus took 
 a more robust view. 
 
 She's a very pretty woman," said she ; 
 
 he'd been dancing with her all the evening 
 — and there you are. I don't think there's 
 much in it. But you must decide for yourself 
 what you are going to say to Hector." 
 
 " Oh, Hector ! " I said at once. " Poor 
 chap, I shall say nothing at all, unless he 
 speaks to me. Least said soonest mended. 
 I need not assure you that I shall respect her 
 confidence, since you have handed it on to 
 me. I don't think you ought to have done 
 it, to be candid with you. It shall go no 
 further — I promise you that." 
 
 " Well, I should think not," said she. " I 
 had my reasons for telling you — and I thought 
 you were to be trusted." 
 
 " Your exquisite reason — " I demanded, 
 and she told me. 
 
 " Von Broderode has asked Pierpoint out 
 to his place in the winter — for shooting or 
 hunting. He's going. Now Helena don't 
 want him to come — or tells me so. But he's
 
 125 SEQUELS 
 
 going, I believe. Can't you get Hector to 
 go too ? That's what I want you to 
 do." 
 
 I was startled. " My dear friend, how on 
 earth am I to ask Hector to go and shoot 
 with another man ? You can hardly be 
 serious." 
 
 " I assure you that I'm not a fool," she 
 said. " Helena herself is going to ask Hector. 
 She thinks — she's afraid — he will refuse to 
 come." 
 
 " Well," I said, " after the way she has 
 treated him " 
 
 " I know," said Miss Bacchus. " That's 
 what she feels, too. Now it's up to you to 
 get him round. Don't frighten him, you 
 know. Just wake him up." 
 
 I shook my head. " I should frighten him. 
 No, no. That won't do. She must ask him 
 herself." 
 
 ' I tell you she means to," said Miss 
 Bacchus. 
 
 I stopped our walk and spoke my mind. 
 I said, " Look here, Miss Bacchus, this is 
 pretty bad, you know. She's at least four 
 years older than Pierpoint ; and if he's a 
 rogue, to say the least of it, she ought to 
 know better. Hector's is another affair alto-
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 126 
 
 gether. You know what he is. You know 
 that he would never do her any harm. Well, 
 now she ought to have met him more than 
 half-way. If you ask me, I think that he'll 
 be well out of it all. He's been wretched 
 enough here — and it's her fault. No, no. I 
 am for letting him get over it." 
 
 Miss Bacchus had been preparing herself 
 for me while I was holding forth. I saw 
 it in her fishy old eye. It was a cold, 
 greenish, calculating eye — as flat as a 
 snake's. 
 
 She said, " My fine man, your rhetoric has 
 carried your wits away. That woman is a 
 child at heart. She was married out of a 
 convent to that old rake. God knows what 
 he's done with her — and God only knows. 
 But I know, and so do you, that he's kept 
 her to himself. I don't suppose she has 
 talked to a man for ten minutes alone since 
 she's been married. What have years got 
 to do with it ? They may make a fool of her, 
 if you like — that's all the difference they'll 
 make. She'll go to the deuce, and the likes 
 of you will say she ought to have known better. 
 How on earth could she know ? Don't talk 
 such nonsense. You ought to know Hector 
 better than I do. He's your friend, not
 
 127 SEQUELS 
 
 mine. But I'm as sure as I stand here that 
 Hector would rather be in the fire than let 
 her slip into trouble. And there's another 
 thing. So far as I can understand, it is he 
 who has brought her up to the edge of trouble. 
 Very well, then, the least he can do is to pull 
 her back again." 
 
 I had to confess that she was right. 
 
 The crisis was reached at luncheon. The 
 von Broderodes were leaving by the four 
 o'clock train. They were going on to the 
 Marquis's for a week on their way to London. 
 That had been understood. What was not 
 understood by the Baron was that Pierpoint 
 was going to the Marquis's too. 
 
 During lunch von Broderode made a kind 
 of speech to Sir Roderick. It became a kind 
 of speech. " I am glad to have seen your 
 beautiful country under your care," he said. 
 " I believe that I have seen the most beautiful 
 part of it. Perhaps that is not fair to Scot- 
 land ; but it is very good for me. I assure 
 you that I leave you painfully." Sir Roderick 
 crowed like a moor cock. 
 
 " My dear Baron, you must pay us another 
 visit. Now that you have found us out, 
 hey ? " 
 
 The Baron twinkled and shone. " Yes, I
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 128 
 
 have found you out." He was looking full 
 at Pierpoint as he said it — he used a rich full 
 voice, with mockery in it — at least, it sounded 
 so to me. " I know what to expect of you. 
 The welcome Highlander, as you say." Patrick 
 kicked me under the table. " But before 
 that happens, you are coming to try your 
 luck in Galicia — ha ? " This, of course, to 
 Pierpoint, who said, " Thanks, yes. I should 
 love it." 
 
 " That is good for all of us," said the Baron, 
 and looked all round the table. Then it was 
 that Helena in clear tones to be heard by 
 everybody spoke to Hector. 
 
 " I hope very much that you will come 
 with your brother," she said. " You will be 
 pleased with Galicia. I wish you to like it 
 so much." She spoke studiedly, but with 
 great courage. She was pale, but had very 
 bright eyes. 
 
 I never saw the Baron put out before. He 
 was angry this time. His nostrils opened 
 wide. As for his eyes, they blazed. He said 
 nothing at all, but looked straight at the 
 man he believed his enemy. I was right 
 and Miss Bacchus was wrong. It was Hector 
 he feared. 
 
 He got over it in a moment, but he didn't
 
 129 SEQUELS 
 
 back up his wife's move. Hector flushed 
 deeply, and murmured that he should be 
 most happy. I gathered from the way he 
 said it that he didn't mean to go — and I don't 
 wonder. But she might make him — she 
 probably would. I felt sure that she would 
 try. 
 
 After lunch is always a desultory sort of 
 time. One loafs about and wants tea. But 
 I saw that Helena got what she wanted — 
 a tete-a-tete with Hector. Pierpoint had dis- 
 appeared. They went off together over the 
 lawn, and I had to imagine the rest. I am 
 sure she meant to be kind to him. 
 
 And then they went. Pierpoint was not 
 with them. But he had left Inveroran already 
 in his own trap. They seemed to think he 
 would go directly to Dublin from Dunmally* 
 His leave was nearly up. C 
 
 That was the night of the servants' ball. 
 I had two dances with Ethel Cook, the hand- 
 some housemaid. She was easily the queen 
 of that party ; none of our girls came near 
 her, though Elspeth Muir was an uncommonly 
 pretty girl. 
 
 Ethel Cook was dressed in grey, and had 
 a red rose in her hair. She talked quite well,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 130 
 
 but was rather reserved. I said something 
 about the day's departures, that it was a pity 
 Mr. Pierpoint wasn't there. She said, with 
 a dry voice, that he was better employed.
 
 XI : THE FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 Shortly after these events I went South and 
 got immersed in my departmental work and 
 the mild relaxations of a London before 
 Christmas. I had had no confidences from 
 Hector. He did not choose to discuss his 
 affairs, and I couldn't question him about 
 them. I can't say that he was even normally 
 cheerful. He was very gentle ; but he was 
 always that. On the other hand, he wasn't 
 in the deeps of misery. He held his head up 
 and did what his station up there required 
 of him. Just as I was leaving he said that 
 he should probably see me in London during 
 the winter. I said that I should expect to 
 put him up — he always came to me when he 
 was in London — and he made no immediate 
 answer. Then he said, " It's all in the air 
 at present. We'll write about it." That was 
 how it had to be left. 
 
 I went to London, I got busy, I saw nobody 
 connected with the Mallesons, I forgot the 
 von Broderode comedy and all to do with it — 
 
 131
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 132 
 
 until one afternoon in November when I went 
 into my club. There in the hall was old 
 Vane in the act to depart, with cigar in mouth 
 and match in hand. 
 
 We hardly know each other. I nodded and 
 passed on to the hat-peg department. But 
 he turned and called after me. At the same 
 moment the match burned his finger. 
 
 " D the match," he said as I returned. 
 
 " Oh, I say, I wish you'd clear something up 
 for me. It's about — " and here he began to 
 whisper — " it's about young Malleson — you 
 know the chap I mean. Chap in the 16th " 
 
 " Pierpoint ? " I was all there in a second. 
 " What's he been up to ? " 
 
 The Colonel looked at me from under his 
 glasses with the intolerably supercilious effect 
 that trick always has — as if to say, What kind 
 of a silly ass might you be ? Then he seemed 
 to give me up. 
 
 " Made sure you'd know. Why, he's sent 
 in his papers. That's what he's done." 
 
 I thought immediately of all that this might 
 mean. " Are you sure about that ? " was 
 what I said — to gain time. It annoyed the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " It's in the Gazette — if that's what you 
 mean ! Now, what's he been up to ? " That
 
 133 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 was exactly my question to him of a minute 
 ago. 
 
 I said, " I haven't heard from Hector ever 
 since I left Inveroran. But I expect that 
 I shall now. Pierpoint doesn't love me very 
 much — and I've never given him any reason 
 why he should." 
 
 "Oh," said the Colonel, "I think he's a 
 rip. But they'll stand a lot of that kind of 
 thing. But I'm sorry for the old chief — he's 
 a fine old cock. This will make him moult 
 a tail-feather or two — I'll be shot if it don't." 
 I am sorry to add that he chuckled rather 
 snugly over the thought. " Devilish proud 
 old boy is the old chief. And Pierpoint the 
 apple of his eye." With that comfortable 
 reflection the Colonel grasped his umbrella 
 firmly in the midst and stalked off with a 
 curt salutation. 
 
 I was dead certain that this had something 
 to do with Helena von Broderode, though 
 why I thought so, or what it had to do with 
 her, I couldn't tell you. And it was one of 
 those sort of things you can't ask about for 
 fear of the worst. Hector was in my thoughts 
 — I was awfully fond of Hector in my own 
 way — I would have given anything to see 
 him. But there was nothing to be done :
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 134 
 
 I must wait for him, quite sure that sooner 
 or later he would see me about it. I don't 
 mind owning that for a week or more I slunk 
 about town as if I were under a cloud. I 
 saw Chevenix in Pall Mall one afternoon, and 
 fairly bolted up into St. James's Square. I 
 was careful where I dined, lest I should happen 
 upon Miss Bacchus. She would have raked 
 me fore and aft, I knew. I was virtually in 
 hiding : no private views, no first nights. 
 It was a bad time. 
 
 Finally, I had a line from Hector — but 
 that wasn't till mid-December. He wrote 
 very shortly : "I must be in London for a 
 few days before the feast. I hope very much 
 to see you. You can put me up for a night 
 or two, I'm sure. Don't ask anybody to 
 meet me. — H. M. M." 
 
 He came. He looked very serious ; but 
 he was a proud chap and very sensitive, so 
 I let him have his head. I was dining out 
 the night he came, and returned at about 
 eleven or half-past. He was sitting before 
 the fire with a book and his pipe. 
 
 He began to talk with an effort — pure 
 instinct on his part to avoid the unavoidable. 
 As nearly as may be he said this :
 
 135 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 " You know that Pier point has chucked 
 the Army, of course." 
 
 I said that I had been told so. Had they 
 known that he intended it ? 
 
 " None of us knew it," he said, " until he 
 wrote to my father. Personally, I wasn't 
 surprised. You see, I know him." 
 
 " What did your father say ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " He made out — or tried to make out — that 
 he was very glad of it. He admitted that 
 Pier point was his favourite. He said it would 
 be a comfort to him to have him at home — 
 and all that kind of thing. It was as plain 
 as a pikestaff that he was awfully upset. He 
 couldn't make it out at all." 
 
 " But," I said, " he didn't suspect anything 
 awkward — any trouble ? " 
 
 " No, I don't think he did. He thinks 
 very highly of everything belonging to him. 
 It would pretty well kill him. I hadn't the 
 heart to try to prepare him — for anything, 
 you know. I suppose I shall have to do 
 something." 
 
 I said, " My dear fellow, I can see that 
 you have faced it. Don't talk to me about 
 it if you'd rather not. Has he got into a 
 mess, do you think ? "
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 136 
 
 "I don't think he has," he said. "But 
 I think he intends to." 
 
 I was now pretty sure, not only that he 
 did, but in what direction his mess was to 
 lie ; but I said nothing at the moment. I 
 waited for Hector, who sat up before me 
 like a bonze, burrowing deeply into his own 
 recesses. 
 
 He broke out in such an unexpected place 
 that I gasped. 
 
 " My father doesn't like her, you know," 
 he said. "That's the worst of it." This 
 was absurd. Sir Roderick liked everybody 
 who liked him ; and that Helena liked him 
 was as plain as my cook. 
 
 I cast my hesitations to the four winds. 
 " My dear Hector," I said, " you don't con- 
 template — you can't contemplate a catastrophe 
 without stirring from your place ! " 
 
 He said with perfect gravity, " I don't 
 see what I can do." 
 
 He was difficult to deal with in this impas- 
 sive mood. He seemed to be in another 
 world, breathing an alien air, subject to an 
 alien code of morals. But I was annoyed. 
 
 " Do, my dear chap ! " I cried. " You 
 can do all sorts of things — and nobody else 
 can do anything. Do you sit there and tell
 
 137 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 me that you intend to let Pierpoint go out 
 to Galicia alone ? " 
 
 He didn't move a muscle. " I am not 
 going with him, if that is what you mean." 
 
 He frightened me. I thought he was out 
 of his mind. And after that I was doubly 
 annoyed, because he was so infernally sane 
 about it. 
 
 " Very well," I said. " It's your affair, 
 and not mine. You have to reflect upon your 
 responsibilities, how far you may have been 
 concerned in bringing this about. I won't 
 say any more. And you will do me the justice 
 to remark that I have said nothing throughout 
 unless you have invited me." 
 
 He softened at once, and became more 
 human. " I know, I know. You have been 
 very good about it. You were in it from the 
 beginning, and have had every reason to 
 take an interest. And you are the best friend 
 I have. I know that very well. But this is 
 how I feel about it. I hope you'll under- 
 stand me. You and I aren't in agreement — 
 as to the rudiments, I mean. We differ in 
 first principles. Therefore, if I have made 
 up my mind upon my course of conduct, 
 I've made it up, you see, on premises which 
 you dispute. So there's no common ground
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 138 
 
 for us. I say this so that you may leave 
 off being offended with me. I must do what 
 I think right. That, at least, you will agree 
 to." 
 
 Naturally, I agreed to it, and most certainly 
 I didn't want to dig up the whole thing from 
 the foundations and discuss the ground plan. 
 But I thought I might as well find out exactly 
 what he thought was going to happen — and 
 asked him plainly, Did he suppose Pierpoint 
 and she had come to an understanding ? 
 
 He said that he did suppose so, though 
 he knew nothing. " I haven't spoken to 
 Pierpoint — indeed, I haven't seen him since 
 he left us to go to Dunmally." 
 
 " Then you infer it from his chucking the 
 service ? " 
 
 He nodded to that. 
 
 " Then," I said, " you must also suppose 
 that he and she are going to do a bolt." 
 
 He said, " I do suppose so." 
 
 I must say he took it coolly for a lover. 
 But you never know with these emotional 
 men what they are doing beneath their 
 externals. I made one more effort. 
 
 44 It is easy to see," I said, " that if you 
 were with him you could prevent that." 
 
 He still stared at the fire.
 
 139 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 " Why should I prevent it ? " he said. 
 " She wouldn't come with me." 
 
 " I hope you wouldn't ask her to," I said ; 
 " in fact, I am sure you wouldn't." 
 
 He looked quickly at me. " Oh, but you 
 are wrong. I should decidedly ask her if 
 I thought that she cared about me. But she 
 doesn't — not in that sort of way." 
 
 " That being so, my dear Hector," I said, 
 " she had much better stay where she is. 
 That seems to me self-evident. I don't see 
 how the most extreme idealist could wish a 
 woman to be carried off by a man four years 
 younger than she is, still less when that man 
 is your brother Pierpoint, of whose conduct 
 and conversation you are a better judge than 
 I am." 
 
 " Anything," said Hector, " is better for 
 her than remaining with that dying Priapus, 
 who only lives so long as she has any vitality 
 in her." 
 
 There was a dreadful certainty about him 
 which baffled my speech. I was prepared 
 for a high line, but not for such lengths of 
 fanaticism. 
 
 It was difficult to argue with a man like 
 that ; and of course he knew more about 
 Helena than I did. To anybody but Hector
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 140 
 
 I should have said that she had plenty of 
 ways of protecting herself. She wasn't a 
 girl, she wasn't a fool. She might refuse to 
 live with him — anything in the world would 
 be better than what he contemplated for her 
 with such gloomy complacency, if I may say 
 that. 
 
 But I didn't feel that I could go on with 
 that sort of wrangle. It always made me 
 angry to be stone-walled. So I said — what 
 I was far from believing — that it was by no 
 means certain that she would be persuaded 
 by Pier point. She was a Catholic, she was 
 a mother, she seemed a God-fearing, or at 
 least a world-fearing, woman. I said that 
 she struck me as a cold nature. Heaven help 
 me ! Suppose he had known what Miss 
 Bacchus knew, for instance. 
 
 Perhaps he did, for he stopped me, saying, 
 " You are wrong. She has not a cold tem- 
 perament. She is enthusiastic, and quickly 
 moved." Then he said quickly and fervently, 
 with a break now and then in his voice, " I 
 love her with all my soul. She is my ideal 
 of what a woman should be — ardent, devoted, 
 yielding, gentle, and kind. She could not 
 do an unkind thing ; but if she were deeply 
 moved she could do any daring thing. I
 
 141 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 would gladly have braved the hard eyes of 
 the world, the shooting tongues, the cruel, 
 pointing fingers — to serve her. But I have 
 never spoken to her of my hope. Now — if she 
 is so blessed as to have a heart full of love — 
 if she is so blessed — let her go with him in 
 God's name. It will give me a right to stand 
 by her. She will be my sister, and shall have 
 a brother's love from me. If no one else will 
 save her from her captor I will." 
 
 " Save her, by all means," I said. " But 
 you will have to save her from Pierpoint by 
 and by." 
 
 " I know that," he said. " Pierpoint will 
 want to be off." 
 
 " You are allowing her to get into an in- 
 tolerable position," I told him. " You don't 
 know what you are doing." 
 
 He said, " She is in an intolerable position 
 already. There is no other way of saving 
 her." 
 
 I said, " Hector, I urge you to go out there 
 — either at once or when he goes." 
 
 He showed me cavernous eyes — cavernous 
 eyes with despair in the depths of them. 
 " I can't go — I can't go," he said. " I love 
 her too much. It would tear my heart to 
 pieces."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 142 
 
 We talked on, I suppose, half the night ; 
 but it was only a going over the ground again. 
 Once more at least I brought him up to the 
 point where it seemed a matter of that or 
 nothing. Once more, when fairly up against 
 it, he broke back and said that he couldn't. 
 No man wants to see the woman he loves 
 elope with another man ; no man wants to 
 lay himself open to such a taunt as Pierpoint 
 baulked might have against him. Pierpoint 
 might say, You profess to love this woman ; 
 you know that she loves me. Yet you leave 
 her with a man abhorrent, whom you have 
 taught her to abhor ; you are content to do 
 that sooner than see her happy with anybody 
 but yourself. Pierpoint might say that. 
 Hector may have felt its force. My belief 
 is that Hector had taught himself to want 
 her to elope. He had made a monster out 
 of the Baron. As for himself, I don't think 
 he thought of himself. That's where he was 
 so inhuman. 
 
 The rest of his conversation with me during 
 the few days he was at my place may be 
 summarized thus : he had no conversation 
 with me. It is literally true. The morning 
 after that which I have recorded he was very 
 silent. When I came back in the evening
 
 143 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 he had recovered somewhat. We dined at 
 the club, looked in at a theatre, chatted 
 desultorily, and went to bed. Next day he 
 was out to dinner somewhere. The day after 
 that he went away, having received a tele- 
 gram. I believe it was from Pierpoint ; but 
 he didn't tell me. He went away without a 
 word to me about Helena. I couldn't say 
 anything, or do anything. He didn't mean 
 me to. 
 
 Having done my little best and been snubbed 
 for it, I washed my hands of poor old Hector's 
 family affairs, and now felt at liberty to go 
 out into the world. The world, as I might 
 have known, if I hadn't been so self-conscious, 
 persisted in rolling on. Pretty women still 
 went to the tea-shop of the moment with 
 very young or very old gentlemen in attend- 
 ance ; Parliament still talked about Home 
 Rule ; the National Review still asked us to 
 take its word for it that Ministers were common 
 pickpockets, and still we didn't. Christmas 
 came round, and we all went away. There 
 were two days' skating and thirty days of 
 rain. At the end of January, just as I was 
 saying to myself that in two months more 
 I might get down into Provence, with the
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 144 
 
 wind, I met Miss Bacchus at a party and took 
 her down to dinner. On the stairs she said 
 to me, " I suppose you know all about it." 
 
 I did, then. " Do you mean the best or 
 the worst ? " I said. 
 
 " Oh," said she, " it all depends. I believe 
 Hector thinks it's capital." 
 
 " Then," I said, " he's done it." 
 
 " Who has done what ? " she said, evidently 
 not sure whether I knew anything or not. 
 
 " Why, Apollo," I said. She was satisfied. 
 " I'll tell you presently," she concluded — 
 and then we were at table. 
 
 " All I know is," she said, " that Pierpoint 
 has written to his father. I know that from 
 Elspeth Muir, who was there when the letter 
 came. She said the old man nearly had a fit." 
 
 I stopped her there. " Look here," I 
 said, " do let us have one thing clear first. 
 What did Pierpoint say in his letter ? " 
 
 She didn't know. Of course she didn't. 
 
 " Very well," I said. " Then what did the 
 chief say in his fit ? " 
 
 Again she didn't know. It was all a wild 
 surmise. " The Marks were in the house. 
 Hector was sent for. He's up there now. 
 They sent all the outsiders away. I saw 
 Lord Mark on Sunday."
 
 145 FIRMNESS OF HECTOR 
 
 " And what did Lord Mark tell you ? " 
 I wanted to know. 
 
 " Well, he said that Pierpoint was going 
 to take her away." 
 
 I told her that I didn't believe it ; but in 
 my heart's core, knowing Pierpoint, I shivered. 
 " At any rate," I added, " if Pierpoint ivas 
 going to run away with her, he'd hardly tell 
 his father about it — would he ? " 
 
 She allowed that ; but she thought that, 
 without letting the cat out of the bag himself, 
 he might have left the key about. 
 
 " Does Hector know — or suspect ? " I asked 
 her. 
 
 " They all know what there is to know," 
 she replied. " It's a bad look-out for fair 
 Helena." 
 
 I said, " She ought to have known better. 
 Upon my word — a woman of her age." 
 
 " If she had been his age," said Miss Bacchus 
 very acutely, " she would have known better."
 
 XII : HELENA FLIES 
 
 In that parlous condition I had to leave my 
 friend's affairs — his heart seething and bobbing, 
 as it were, like a pippin in a brew. Although 
 I cursed Hector for a besotted idealist who 
 didn't think people went to the devil so long 
 as they went his way there — I didn't feel that 
 I could write and tell him so, satisfaction as 
 that would have been to myself. I was so 
 angry with him that I didn't remember how 
 often I had been angry with him before — nor 
 even what superhuman luck he had had more 
 than once before. There things had to remain, 
 and there I left them, subject to occasional 
 stabs of consciousness when I realized that, 
 at the hour it was, Helena might be a runaway 
 wife, already ruing the bad exchange she had 
 made. 
 
 Then — some time in March, as I suppose — 
 Wynyard came to see me, appearing as if 
 shot out of the blue sky — Wynyard the lean 
 and grim and red, Wynyard the parody of 
 Pierpoint, astonishing by his likeness and 
 
 146
 
 147 HELENA FLIES 
 
 unlikeness to his twin. Wynyard himself 
 stalked into my rooms when I was at breakfast, 
 nodded a curt good morning and asked, or 
 looked, for food. 
 
 He had it, and consumed it in silence, or 
 nearly in silence. All his comment was upon 
 its excellence. " Awfully good bacon. There's 
 a thing you simply don't see abroad. As for 
 their coffee — muck." So he had been abroad I 
 That was rare for him. But I knew him, and 
 left him alone. 
 
 When he had really done, and had lighted 
 his pipe, he gave me a shock. " Well," he 
 said, " I thought you'd be interested to know 
 . . . I've cooked his goose for him." 
 
 " Whose goose, my dear chap ? " I asked, 
 though I guessed. 
 
 He said, " My beautiful brother's. He was 
 going off with her. On the very brink." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Well." said Wynyard, with narrowed eyes. 
 " He won* . 
 
 " Oh," I said. " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " I'm as sure," he said, " as that I've had 
 breakfast." 
 
 I jumped to the thought of fair Helena. 
 " And what does she think about it ? How 
 did she cool off ? Because you have to blow
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 148 
 
 pretty hot to get such a tone in the air as the 
 elopement tone. ..." 
 
 " I can't tell you," Wynyard said, " what 
 she thinks about it, because I don't know. 
 But I do know that Pierpoint is in Paris, 
 while she, I believe, is in Bucharest, or some 
 such place, with a Princess Glinka, a fat 
 woman who wants washing." 
 
 There was really nothing to say. If you 
 were to see a miracle there would be nothing 
 to say. That is the test of a miracle. 
 
 What I did say shows how little there was 
 to say. It was feeble, but it served. 
 
 " How do you know," I said, " that she 
 wants washing ? " 
 
 " Because I've seen her," he replied. " She 
 was about — very much about. A great friend 
 of Helena's, and a good sort. A fat Rou- 
 manian who lives about, mostly smoking. I 
 had a talk with her. I told her she must stop 
 it. I said it was out of the question. She 
 lifted her fat hands and made tragic eyes — 
 at the ceiling, not at me. When she said, 
 4 It is never out of the question for women 
 to fall in love,' I said, l It is in this case.' 
 And I made her see it." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " That was all there was to 
 say. Then I asked him how Pierpoint took it.
 
 149 HELENA FLIES 
 
 " Oh, Pierpoint didn't like it at all. I 
 rather shook Pierpoint. But there was nothing 
 to say. He's in Paris. I daresay he'll go 
 after her again after a bit. But Glinka will 
 let me know." 
 
 " Why did Glinka, as you call her, propose 
 to allow Helena to go at all ? " That was 
 my next. 
 
 Wynyard told me, " Because Helena would 
 have gone without leave if she hadn't got it. 
 She was mad to go. She'd have gone with 
 Pierpoint sooner than not go." 
 
 So she had gone, then ? Wynyard said, of 
 course she had gone. With Glinka, and for 
 the moment to Bucharest. She had made up, 
 her mind, he said, to go before she left Inver- 
 oran last year. I wondered. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that she ? " 
 
 " No," he said. " I don't. She didn't tell 
 me. But I knew it." 
 
 This cold-eyed, hot-faced child of nature saw 
 more than one gave him credit for. But he 
 was always a shrouded creature. He had the 
 gift of silence. 
 
 " Did you say anything at all to Helena ? 
 Did you talk to her ? " 
 
 He stared. " Of course I talked to her. 
 She asked me to come and see her — at
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 150 
 
 Bucharest. She took me to the convent to 
 see her daughter. A nice child." 
 
 " And has she run away with Hermione 
 too ? " 
 
 " No. Hermione stays where she is. She's 
 all right there." 
 
 I asked him, " How did she take Pierpoint's 
 defection, Wynyard ? And what on earth 
 could he have said to her ? " 
 
 Wynyard shrugged. 
 
 " God knows what he said. That wasn't 
 my business. As for her, she never mentioned 
 his name once. He might not have existed." 
 
 I understood that. She was a proud woman, 
 and would sooner have died. But would she 
 ever forgive him ? 
 
 I turned to other points. 
 
 " What will the Baron do ? Has she told 
 him, do you know ? " 
 
 " She wrote to the Baron before she left," 
 
 " What will he do ? " 
 
 Wynyard considered. " I think he'll get 
 her back. The Baron's a man, or the remains 
 of one. Personally, I like him." 
 
 " So do I," I said. Then I asked more about 
 Pierpoint. He said that he didn't expect 
 Pierpoint home for a bit. Pierpoint had 
 thrown up his job, and as he had done it for
 
 151 HELENA FLIES 
 
 nothing it was unlikely he would come home 
 to explain it away. His belief was that Pier- 
 point would go after Helena. 
 
 " And if he does ? " I asked. My own 
 belief was that if he did, she would know how 
 to deal with him ; but Wynyard apparently 
 thought it possible that she would not. 
 
 " If he does," said Wynyard, " I suppose 
 that I shall go after Pierpoint." 
 
 There'll be bloodshed," I told him. 
 No, there won't," said Wynyard. 
 
 
 He went North that night, to console his 
 father. I took the trouble to spread the good 
 news about London. I told Miss Bacchus, who 
 sniffed ; I told Lord Mark, who snorted. 
 " Wynyard's in love with her himself. They 
 all are. The chief's in love with her. So are 
 you. I call it rot." 
 
 I said, " I admit it. She's divinely pretty, 
 and as soft as a bird's breast." 
 
 " Bah," said Lord Mark. " Give me a 
 leathery woman." Somebody had. 
 
 The erring pair — I mean, of course, the 
 Glinka and the fair runaway — went first to 
 Castellammare, thence to Sicily, then to Corfu ; 
 from each of which sanctuaries in turn they 
 were routed by German hordes whom Helena,
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 152 
 
 poor girl, either knew or thought she knew, or 
 suspected of knowledge. I can well imagine 
 that the woods may have been full of eyes, 
 that the Baron, so to speak, 
 
 Formosam resonare docuit Amaryllida silvas 
 
 — if I may make Virgil limp after me. He 
 was not a man to be trifled with ; nor could I 
 judge him a man to let trifles of delicacy stand 
 in his way. 
 
 Whether he pursued or not, they at any rate 
 fled, believing in pursuit. And the Glinka was 
 not made for a beast of chase. Although she 
 was timorous, she was fat and loved her ease. 
 She must have been very cross, and I can 
 imagine that there may have been times when 
 Helena almost regretted her servitude to her 
 Baron's whim. I don't know the details of 
 their flight, or by what stages they reached 
 Tripolitza in Arcadia. They were there by 
 the middle of June ; and then they moved on 
 to Sparta, or rather to Mistra, which is a 
 romantic shell of a mediaeval fortress-town 
 upon the slopes of Taygetus. They were found 
 there by Hector, who went out to visit them 
 in October, and came back to London full of 
 content with what he had seen and been told. 
 
 He said that they were installed in a convent,
 
 153 HELENA FLIES 
 
 which was shared also by the priest and his 
 family. A very domestic couple, he reported 
 them : the Princess, black-browed, heavy, 
 dusty, a smoker of cigarettes and eater of 
 oranges ; very fond of Helena, petting her 
 more than she scolded, though she did that too. 
 She had a tragic air, a deep bass voice, and was 
 not beardless. Helena, he said, was softly 
 beautiful and learning Greek from the priest, 
 a mild-eyed, melancholy lotus-eater whose 
 ways were soothing to her. Pierpoint — she 
 had admitted the renegade ! — had been with 
 them in Athens, but Hector gave me to under- 
 stand that Athens was made impossible for 
 him — and that his hostesses left in a hurry. 
 The Glinka, who hated Pierpoint, feared the 
 Baron as much as cold water, or any water. 
 It was she who insisted on bundling off, though 
 she was the last person in the world to bundle. 
 Not that the Baron had been there — no, but 
 he had been heard of. He had certainly been 
 in Greece, and had left spies behind him. 
 They were persons, Hector said, whom Helena 
 knew. They did not speak to her, they did not 
 even seem to be aware of her ; but they haunted 
 her. She sent Pierpoint away — but to no 
 purpose. It became a silent persecution and 
 gave her a bad attack of nerves. She limbered
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 154 
 
 up her Glinka — or was limbered up herself — 
 and moved by night, first to Patras, then to 
 Tripolitza by carriage — heavy work for a sultry 
 Roumanian princess who did not as a rule 
 put on her clothes till four in the afternoon. 
 But the peace and solitude of the mountain 
 stronghold revived her wonderfully, and Hector 
 believed that if the supply of French novels 
 held out the Glinka would be content to remain 
 through the winter. After that he didn't 
 know what would happen. 
 
 He was on his way North, when he told me 
 all this — to see his father and reassure him 
 about Pierpoint. He himself seemed quite at 
 ease. His heart was fixed, he said. His lady 
 was free, knew that she was loved, accepted 
 his devotion, and relied upon it. He was to 
 hold himself ready to go to her at a moment's 
 warning. I never met a lover of his sort before 
 — a vicarious lover, a kind of carpet Cyrano 
 de Bergerac. His ideas of romantic enchant- 
 ment were too bleak for me. 
 
 " You think she is happy ? " I asked him, 
 and he replied at once that he did. 
 
 " Of course," he said, " she regrets the 
 child. She has news of her from a friend 
 whom she can trust. But, unfortunately — I 
 rather gather this — she gets news about von
 
 155 HELENA FLIES 
 
 Broderode too. That's a great bore — but it 
 can't be helped." 
 
 " She has heard nothing from the Baron 
 directly ? " 
 
 He shook his head. " Not a word." 
 
 " She has written to him ? " 
 
 " She wrote when she left him. She hasn't 
 written since." 
 
 " You have no idea what he is doing ? " 
 
 " Not the least, beyond what I have told 
 you. I feel sure that he is not sitting still." 
 
 So did I. 
 
 He changed the subject of his own accord 
 by saying that it was beautiful to see her so 
 happy. " You would hardly know her again," 
 he told me. " There is a light upon her which 
 you never saw there — a saliency in her motions 
 which is enchanting. And she has had a 
 wonderful effect upon Pierpoint. He adores 
 her, and gives no trouble at all. He's never 
 been serious before : he's serious now. I don't 
 believe that he has a care in the world." 
 
 It was quite obvious to me now that my 
 poor Hector had no notion of Wynyard's share 
 in the game, and put down Pierpoint's with- 
 drawal to innate virtue. Well, I let it go at 
 that. But Helena's forgiveness of him could 
 only be put down to one of two things : either
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 156 
 
 she was excessively enamoured, or he had lied 
 enormously about his reasons. 
 
 I said that it seemed to me a great pity 
 that Pierpoint should have been there at all, 
 considering what he had proposed. Hector 
 held his head very high, said that to suspect 
 her was to condemn myself ; that Pierpoint 
 had been there because he loved her — " just 
 as I was myself," he added, with a fatuity 
 only possible to an idealist, and a Hector 
 Malleson. He was quite sui generis in that 
 kind of saying. He added afterwards that 
 Helena was taking her responsibilities very 
 seriously. 
 
 I said, " That's an odd way of showing 
 seriousness." But Hector said, not at all. 
 " Pierpoint has no cares, because nothing is 
 difficult for him. She has called out his latent 
 ability. She has made him ambitious. I 
 am prepared to think rather highly of him." 
 
 I said, " He's not been tried yet. You should 
 wait till the Baron puts the screw on." Then 
 I noticed that Hector was prepared to make a 
 family matter of it. 
 
 " We shall be ready for him if he does any- 
 thing offensive," said my remarkable friend. 
 " At present I don't see what he can do." 
 
 I pointed out one thing immediately, which
 
 157 HELENA FLIES 
 
 was that the Baron, having made Athens too 
 hot for Pierpoint, might make Sparta too 
 cold for his wife — by practically keeping her 
 there, alone with a bored Roumanian lady of 
 unsociable habits. I didn't know it, but I 
 was prophesying. Hector was wired for while 
 he was at Inveroran — while I was there too. 
 He showed me the telegram, which simply said 
 — according to a code which they had arranged 
 beforehand — " Leaguer " — and off he went. 
 
 After a fortnight we heard from him — or 
 from them, rather. I had a letter from Hector, 
 which said, " The Baron is at the hotel at 
 Sparta. She was sketching in Mistra when 
 he was carried up the street in a kind of swing- 
 ing chair — with a guide to point him out the 
 objects of interest. She, poor child, sat frozen 
 in her place, not daring to look at him. He 
 took his hat off, and was carried on. Since 
 that time he has installed himself at Sparta, 
 within easy distance of her. He has Teresa 
 Visconti, his attendant, with him, a doctor, 
 and a succession of friends. She cannot stop 
 here, and the Princess will not. What to do 
 I don't know at present. She has written to 
 my father, with my full approval. If he 
 speaks about it, I rely upon your friendship." 
 That was all.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 158 
 
 Well, she had indeed written to Sir Roderick. 
 She had, it is simpler to say at once, cast her- 
 self into his bosom. That, whether a ruse 
 or an artless rush for safety, was the way to do 
 it. I never saw the old man so moved by any- 
 thing. He called us together — those of us 
 who were his familiars. We held a council of 
 war. He said that a beautiful and persecuted 
 lady had appealed to him for protection. She 
 and her husband had both been his guests, and 
 could claim equal rights from him. It was 
 no part of his business (he meant our business) 
 to judge between a husband and wife. We 
 might have our prejudices, they might or might 
 not be reasonable, or even honourable. The 
 thing was done : the lady had left him. He, 
 with no legal right to support him, not assert- 
 ing any such right, chose to obtrude himself 
 upon her, to beset her. The lady, not knowing 
 where to turn, had written to him a noble, 
 touching, affecting letter, he said — he had it 
 in his hand, tried to read extracts from it, and 
 broke down — which no man of honour or 
 common charity could receive and not be 
 affected by. He said that there was but one 
 thing to do — namely, to offer her instant and 
 unconditional asylum. Inveroran, himself, his 
 sons, his friends were at her service. He had
 
 159 HELENA FLIES 
 
 not called us to advise him ; he knew us too 
 well to doubt what our advice would be ; we, 
 he believed, knew him too well to suppose him 
 in need of it. Hector would escort her. He 
 had telegraphed to Hector to that effect. He 
 ended up by saying that he was a proud man 
 that day. And he looked it. 
 
 We weren't a very big party that year. The 
 chief's audience consisted of Lord Mark, Wyn- 
 yard, Patrick, and myself. The first named 
 was the only one who said anything. Wynyard 
 squared his jaw, Patrick shuffled his feet about 
 and had his cheeks buried in his hands. But 
 Lord Mark said, that was all right — very right 
 and proper ; but what were we going to do 
 about the neighbourhood ? People would talk, 
 he said ; and they didn't like runaway wives 
 in Scotland. The old chief glared at him and 
 asked him what he meant. He wasn't at all 
 dismayed. He said he meant exactly what he 
 said. They didn't like wives who ran away. 
 There were the Larberts at Dunmallv, for 
 instance. Well, they know every one. One 
 of the sons was in the Ottoman Bank at Con- 
 stantinople, for instance. Now, suppose old 
 Broderode came across him ? Well, the first 
 thing that would happen would be that the 
 Dunmally people would come over here with
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 160 
 
 old Broderode's story at their ringers' ends. 
 The second thing might be that old Brcderode 
 would be asked to stay with them. We 
 remembered what went on at the ball up here ! 
 The Marchioness was all for the Baron, and 
 didn't care a bit for Helena's goings on. Well, 
 what about that ? So said Lord Mark in his 
 tone of querulous commonsense ; and it was 
 not much help that Sir Roderick fumed and 
 glared at him. Wynyard took him as well as 
 it could be done, I believe. He said, " Very 
 well. Let them have him. He won't come 
 here, and that's all she cares about." Mark 
 said there'd be a beastly scandal — and Sir 
 Roderick jumped down his throat. A scandal 
 at Inveroran — raised by the Larberts — in Mal- 
 leson country ! Did Mark know what he was 
 saying ? Mark, who did, perfectly well, sub- 
 sided into sniffs and grunts, and the storm 
 died down ; but afterwards he told me what 
 of course was in his mind. Pierpoint was 
 involved in this. Pierpoint had done his best 
 to elope with Helena. The Baron knew all 
 about that — trust him. Well, then, if the 
 Larberts got to know that, and then found 
 Pierpoint lodged in the house — with Helena 
 — well, said Mark, there'd be the deuce's own 
 fuss, and he didn't mind telling me that Lady
 
 161 HELENA FLIES 
 
 Mark wouldn't stand it. She was an American. 
 " They call her stodgy," he said, " and she 
 may be stodgy — but she won't stand any 
 hanky-panky with the Seventh Command- 
 ment ; and my position here will be devilish 
 awkward. I don't know what I shall do if 
 that woman comes here. My wife'll go to 
 America — that's certain. And I suppose she'll 
 stop there, because she won't come here while 
 the woman's in the house. And mark you 
 this " — he slapped the palm of one hand with 
 the finger of the other — " If she comes here, 
 she comes for good. That's a certainty." 
 
 He glared at me throughliis monocle, pausing 
 for the reply which he didn't get. " Very 
 well," said he, " what happens then ? Why, 
 you practically divorce me and my wife. 
 That's what you do. And that's what I call 
 chucking stones into a pond. You make rings, 
 you know. And it's my pond, I'll trouble 
 you." There was a good deal in what he said, 
 though it wasn't clearly expressed. 
 
 But Lord Mark was the only malcontent. 
 As for the rest of us, it seemed that the chief 
 was on our minds and consciences, and we in 
 a conspiracy to make what was not appear as 
 if it was. I believe that with Helena's letter 
 he took Helena herself to his heart. He
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 162 
 
 talked of her as if she were daughter of the 
 house. It was " When that child comes," or 
 even " When that child comes back." Back ! 
 Now there never had been a daughter of the 
 house. Not only had his wife given him no 
 girl, but no Malleson chieftainess had had a 
 daughter for several generations. It was odd, 
 but so it was. The legend explained it, to the 
 Malleson mind, the legend of Euphemia Grant 
 and the Malleson curse — the Malleson malison, 
 Pat used to call it. Euphemia had been a 
 lady who loved too well. Since the day of 
 her expulsion from Inveroran, it was said, 
 there had never been a daughter to the house. 
 So there was cause enough for Sir Roderick to 
 take this willing lady to his bosom, or (since 
 she had come there by the post) to keep her in 
 it. In his own simple transparent way he was 
 as much of an idealist as Hector. That which 
 he desired to be, was. And so we all played 
 up. 
 
 In the air — I don't know how to describe it, 
 but was conscious of it for the three weeks I 
 put in at Inveroran — there was a kind of 
 suspense — a kind of vibratory feeling, as if the 
 whole place was singing with preparation. It 
 was exciting enough. Sandars felt it, I know, 
 the careworn butler, who had begun as a boot-
 
 163 HELENA FLIES 
 
 boy when Sir Roderick had been put into his 
 first kilt, and had climbed up to his present 
 place. He was five years older than his master. 
 I came down one day before anybody, and 
 found him in distressful circumstances. Ethel 
 Cook, that fine, tall housemaid, was before 
 him, wiping her eyes with her apron. Sandars 
 had his hand on her shoulder. " I could not 
 
 do it, my girl, I could not " There he 
 
 broke off ; but I had got away. 
 
 Another time I saw him crossing the hall 
 with the kettle for tea, tiptoeing in his usual 
 circumspect fashion. And yet he seemed to 
 be labouring like a ship in the trough of a 
 heavy sea. Then I saw him put the kettle 
 down and cover his eyes with his hand. He 
 lifted his face towards the ceiling, and kept it 
 so, covered still. Then he shook his head 
 slowly, resumed his burden and went on his 
 way. I knew him so well that it was an 
 impulse hard to resist, to run after him and 
 ask what was the matter. I did resist it, how- 
 ever, obeying that strange instinct of all of us 
 in that house to put the thing away from us, 
 and for the chief's sake pretend it wasn't 
 there. 
 
 I renewed acquaintance with Ethel Cook at 
 the servants' ball ; but she seemed to have
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 164 
 
 lead in her toes, and stopped after a couple of 
 turns. We were, of course, pretty old friends. 
 She had been six years at Inveroran. I re- 
 minded her that she had been keener on dancing 
 last year, and she admitted it with a sigh. She 
 said, " Yes, but that was a year ago. A deal 
 has happened since." 
 
 I said, no troubles at home, I hoped. No, 
 she said, they were all well at home. She 
 hadn't been very well. I said — a change. 
 But she seemed to think that impossible. 
 
 " Oh, no, I couldn't go now " and then 
 
 she stopped, as if she had said too much. An 
 electric condition of affairs — which gets on the 
 nerves of a household.
 
 XIII : ASYLUM 
 
 Nothing happened until the spring, however. 
 When I left Inveroran in October Hector was 
 expected back during the next month. He had 
 escorted his two ladies to Paris, taking Vienna 
 on the way, where Helena had paid a hidden 
 visit to the child and pushed on. The dusky 
 Princess longed for the rue de la Paix and 
 wouldn't stop long. Besides, she was terrified 
 of the Baron. 
 
 When they reached safety in Paris Hector 
 thought it his duty to leave — and, in fact did 
 leave, it being understood that Helena should 
 come to Inveroran in May. He didn't mention 
 Pierpoint to me when I saw him on his way 
 home; but I have reason to believe that the 
 amorist was in Paris too, and a good deal in 
 Helena's company. He was certainly there in 
 the spring when Hector went out to escort the 
 lady northwards, because she arrived, like a 
 captive Briseis, between the pair of them. 
 
 I met them at Charing Cross one bright 
 afternoon in early May, and was immediately 
 
 165
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 166 
 
 struck by her soft and rich allure. She looked 
 eight-and-twenty, and amazingly pretty. She 
 had more colour ; her eyes were brighter ; she 
 was more vivacious. Love suited her. She 
 was like the burnished dove of the poem, having 
 a livelier iris. I thought Pierpoint improved 
 by his moustache and beard. He looked more 
 like his wholesome twin. As for Hector, there 
 was a kind of Bless you, my children ! air upon 
 him which gave me a fit of chuckling whenever 
 I looked upon his beaming paternal eyes. 
 Nothing of the ousted pretendant about him. 
 Bless you, no ! You would have said that he 
 had attained the utmost of his desire. 
 
 I was not alone to receive them. Miss 
 Bacchus was there, by arrangement it seemed. 
 " Yes, I'm an accomplice," she told me. " I 
 don't know what you're all going to do with 
 her when the Baron dies. It will be an un- 
 seemly scramble, I'm thinking — like the end 
 of the Austrian Empire. Personally, I shall 
 back the best man." 
 
 "Who's he?" I asked her. She said, 
 " Well, the Baron will win — if he lives. That's 
 a certainty." 
 
 I said that Inveroran was a long way off 
 his beat. She nodded her head many times, 
 and said so had Sparta been. " These foot-
 
 167 ASYLUM 
 
 in-the-grave people," she said, " live from point 
 to point. You'll see." I did see ; but at the 
 moment I didn't believe her. 
 
 It was the chief, she told me, who had urged 
 her to be hospitable to Helena. In a long 
 letter. " He don't disguise his feelings," she 
 said, " and has no need to. They do him 
 great credit. Imagine an old autocrat of his 
 age working out the details of a lady's visit to 
 London ! He's up to the neck." 
 
 " He wants a daughter," I said. 
 
 She said, "Hum!" 
 
 If Helena was pleased to see me — and I be 
 lieve that she was — she was enormously relieved 
 to see the old gentlewoman. It saved her from 
 the odd look of being escorted by three men. 
 I knew a girl once — a very popular girl — who 
 was escorted home from a dance by forty men ; 
 but that was in Germany, where people are 
 enthusiastic. 
 
 Helena clasped my hand warmly and said 
 how nice it all was, but she fairly jumped 
 at Miss Bacchus and hugged her to her heart. 
 " Oh, you kind, good creature. You are a 
 true friend ! How could I ever know that the 
 English were so kind ? " 
 
 I asked her, Hadn't Inveroran taught her 
 anything ? She went on hugging Miss Bacchus
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 168 
 
 as she said, Everything ! Everything ! It 
 certainly had taught her a thing or two, as 
 they say. 
 
 I now had time to notice how triumphant 
 Hector showed up. As I said, it was as if he 
 had achieved the ambition of a lifetime. In 
 fact, as Miss Bacchus observed to me after- 
 wards, he was the perfect uncle, for not only 
 must he fuss about the luggage and produce the 
 chit for the Custom House out of his waistcoat 
 pocket, but there sat visibly upon him that air 
 of having done something, pulled something off 
 which benevolent uncles always have. Pier- 
 point seemed sheepish beside him — the self- 
 conscious nephew — as if he had been found out 
 in an enthusiasm by his school-fellows. I don't 
 know how far he thought us all ignorant of his 
 late fiasco : of course he saw through Hector. 
 Hector, good ass, thought he had been called 
 back at the last minute by his nobler nature. 
 Helena knew what he had told her, too. But 
 what about me ? What about Miss Bacchus ? 
 It was on our score that he poked his head, I 
 think, and looked like a flagging dog. 
 
 Helena, who had brought no maid with her, 
 stayed with Miss Bacchus ; and the lot of us 
 dined with her that night. The old virgin had 
 a flat in Kensington — in and out of which,
 
 169 ASYLUM 
 
 so long as we were in London, Helena lived and 
 moved. Poor girl, she never seemed at ease 
 without the old friendly soul. She by no means 
 had the Mallesons to dine every night. Hector 
 saw her every day ; but Pierpoint seemed very 
 detached. He went to the races, and paid week- 
 end visits. She wouldn't go anywhere in 
 public with him — though she let me take her 
 to the Academy, and Hector had her to him- 
 self at the Zoo. We had a box for Tristan at 
 the Opera, and all went to that ; but she was 
 so much upset by the second act that she had 
 to go out. Miss Bacchus went with her and 
 left the three of us plantes Id. Hector and I 
 stayed it out. Pierpoint went off to the Em- 
 pire. Helena was in an emotional state, poor 
 dear, always hovering between tears of shame 
 and tears of pure joy. She could rarely trust 
 herself to speak of her reception by " the 
 family," as she called us — when she didn't 
 lump us all together as " the English." Mrs. 
 Jack Chevenix came to call upon her, and 
 brought with her a quiet, beautiful woman, 
 a friend of hers, a Mrs. Senhouse. Helena was 
 deeply gratified by that. She admired our 
 countrywomen ; she said that they were a 
 great testimony to the voluntary system. 
 On the same grounds she supported the army.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 170 
 
 " They stand of themselves, your women/' she 
 said. " They choose to do what we are forced 
 to do. I think it beautiful to see their proud 
 bent heads. They are like the Caryatides of 
 the Erechtheum. Women in Germany are 
 drudges. And as for the army — it is a herd." 
 That was her view, and what has happened 
 since, and is still happening, shows her acumen. 
 
 Then, towards the last week in May — with 
 Miss Bacchus as ballast — we all went up to 
 Inveroran. We took the boat from Glasgow, 
 ran down the Clyde in fog and rain, but got into 
 beautiful weather as we neared the islands, 
 and opened the bay upon as beautiful a morning 
 as I remember to have seen. The air seemed 
 shot with blue and gold. There was the sandy 
 shore ahead of us, backed by mountain and 
 cloud ; the little white town ; the fishing- 
 smacks tossing in the sparkling water ; there 
 was the castle, with the flag streaming out 
 in the breeze of the upper air. A perfect 
 day. 
 
 She stood on the foredeck with her hand on 
 Hector's arm. A long motor veil, which she 
 had twisted up in her hair, flagged out like a 
 pennon. She had been up with the light, 
 waiting for this. So simple, so innocent, so
 
 171 A S Y L U M 
 
 true — it seemed impossible to think ill of her ! 
 And I know that I didn't — and yet — and yet — 
 I felt the intolerable pity of the thought that 
 but for a very little she might have been as 
 happy as she seemed. Everything was right 
 but one thing. She was one of those women 
 who simply must make a love-match. And 
 that was just what she couldn't do. Well, it 
 was no good thinking of it then. We were 
 practically there : the thing was to make the 
 best of it. 
 
 I made out the old chief in his kilt, with his 
 long walking-staff, from half a mile away. He 
 was alone, it seemed — and, thank the Lord, 
 there were no pipers in attendance and he had 
 come down in the motor instead of the state 
 carriage. 
 
 He was very shaky, very agitated, and so, of 
 course, was she. He took off his bonnet when 
 she came, and kissed her hand with great 
 formality. She wanted to refuse it but didn't. 
 He shook hands with Pierpoint, silently, not 
 trusting himself with words, then with the rest 
 of us. Hector went off with the servant to look 
 after luggage, and told us not to wait for him. 
 We all got into the motor — Pierpoint in front, 
 the two ladies and the chief on the back seat. 
 I was vis-a-vis. Miss Bacchus and I did the
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 172 
 
 chattering. I saw that he had Helena's hand 
 in his own. Passing Rosemount, the empty- 
 white house with its blank red blinds, I had a 
 momentary shiver, remembering the Baron's 
 fierce transports of a year and a half ago. But 
 I felt all right directly we were in the approach 
 road. We passed the lodges and were in our 
 own domain. Inveroran has a huge park : 
 a belt of forest trees runs all round, just inside 
 the wall, and then comes open moorland 
 country — mostly heather and silver birch 
 thickets. The deer were moving about in the 
 distant hollows ; high up in the cloudless sky 
 some big hawk was soaring like an aeroplane. 
 It all seemed very primeval and stable ; 
 Europe very far away. 
 
 Sandars and his satellites awaited us on the 
 perron. The chief got out after me, and handed 
 down the ladies. Miss Bacchus bundled up the 
 steps, but he led Helena by the hand. At the 
 door he let her go, stood, looked at her, and 
 then held out his arms. She faltered, then 
 stumbling forward, fell into them, broke into 
 sobs, and then fairly into a passion of crying. 
 He soothed her as if she had been a child, and 
 led her away. It was a most touching thing. 
 The fine generous old chap ! My eyes were wet 
 over that. I wished Hector had been there.
 
 173 A S Y L U M 
 
 Wynyard saw it, and turned away. Pierpoint 
 had gone in before it happened. I saw that he 
 and Wynyard exchanged no greeting, but don't 
 think that anyone else noticed it.
 
 XIV: DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 Within a week, if you'll believe me, she might 
 have been there from the cradle. That shows 
 you that she had a genius for being snug. I had 
 been sure of it. Within ten days she ran the 
 whole house. You caught yourself saying, I 
 wonder how the deuce they got on before she 
 was here ! In that bachelor house, I can tell 
 you, the difference was extraordinary — extra- 
 ordinarily pleasant too. We all revelled in her. 
 That is our excuse for being engaged, as I 
 know we were, in a highly immoral conspiracy 
 to make a thing which was not all right seem 
 as if it was. We were harbouring a runaway 
 wife and trying to ignore the fact that she was 
 a married woman. She was " daughter of the 
 house," if you please, in defiance of Euphemia 
 Grant, and the curse of the Mallesons. We 
 were engaged in buoying up a bladder of fiction, 
 which might break into thin air at any moment, 
 or by any exaggerated breath. But we were 
 all at it, led by Wynyard, who had been so put 
 off by it at first. Wynyard swiftly and finally 
 
 174
 
 175 DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 fell in love with Helena. He betrayed himself 
 at every point, after his own fashion. He 
 became her shadow, and said less than ever. 
 It seems a stupid way of making love, but she 
 couldn't have enough love, you see, and she 
 read the nature of the man. Pat followed, 
 when he came home. Thus she had the lot ; 
 and the chief was the worst of them. 
 
 Not that the chief made love to her, of course. 
 He did what was far more effective when he let 
 her understand from the first that his welfare 
 and moral standing in his kingdom were in- 
 volved in her. Every act, every look, every 
 word (and with him word stood for thought) 
 implied it. It was a subtle form of enchain- 
 ment, for while she was absolute mistress of 
 her own head, heart, and will, he let her see 
 beyond dispute that, so far as his were con- 
 cerned, he had handed them up to her discre- 
 tion. And she wasn't the woman to ignore 
 responsibility. She felt it intensely. It 
 chastened and sobered her at every turn. I 
 was amused to watch her playing stepmother 
 to all these young men who adored her. No- 
 thing could have been more effective. Pier- 
 point was as harmless as a sucking dove. 
 
 It wasn't our fault. We couldn't help it. 
 Not only was she so pretty and so sweet ; but
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 176 
 
 she made us all so cosy. It began, I remember, 
 by her taking over the flowers for the house. 
 Sandars had always done them himself. She 
 made a different thing of it. One became 
 aware of flowers, and of her at the same time. 
 The scents mingled, the associations interacted. 
 As Pat said, you found out what " ripping 
 things " flowers were, and how " ripping " she 
 was, " in one act." She used to be down long 
 before anybody else ; and there was always 
 something exciting for the breakfast table — 
 and, always, a rose for the chief in a vase, by his 
 plate. So it went on ; one thing led to another. 
 It was Miss Bacchus who put her in touch with 
 Mrs. Maclntyre, the housekeeper, and with 
 Rose, the cook. Then we found out that 
 Helena herself was a good cook. Then that 
 department fell to her. So it went on. 
 
 And they all liked her, and all accepted her 
 upon the fictitious value. She was not Miss 
 Malleson, she was " the Baroness," but she 
 was taken as the lady of the house. She 
 wasn't treated as a visitor. There was no 
 question of a visit. Everything suggested 
 permanency. They asked her if the curtains 
 in her room would do " till next year." I 
 believe Sandars thought she had been born 
 there, had married, gone away, lost her husband
 
 177 DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 and come back again. It is a fact that Wilson, 
 the head gardener, said, " Don't your ladyship 
 remember ? We planted him on Mafeking 
 Day ? " She had blushed and laughed as she 
 said, " Indeed, Wilson, I don't " ; but she was 
 enormously pleased, and Sir Roderick, I feel 
 sure, would have liked to raise his wages. It 
 was awfully foolish, awfully fond — but Lord ! 
 how happy they were ! Those three, the chief, 
 Hector, Helena herself — I believe that summer 
 was for each of them a time of golden haze, 
 never hoped for, never to be forgotten. I won't 
 answer for the others. Wynyard brooded 
 upon his affair, and while professing secrecy, 
 at any rate to himself, was transparently 
 concerned with Helena. Pierpoint sulked, and 
 appeared to shrink while you looked at him. 
 That was obviously because Wynyard was 
 there. But he stuck it out, though Helena 
 had very little to say to him, and didn't seem 
 to have him at all at heart. It was curious 
 how he had completely lost his conquering air. 
 He was like a spent salmon. 
 
 An odd thing occurred. We thought it odd 
 at the time. Helena had brought no maid 
 with her, and there was a lot of talk about 
 getting one for her. We were having tea. 
 
 M
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 178 
 
 Pat slapped his leg and jumped up — " I've got 
 it. Promote Ethel. She's always been a 
 trump. She's just the sort." Pierpoint was 
 handing tea-cake or muffins. He looked very 
 black. " Rot ! " he said. " Wouldn't do at 
 all." He was as red as a peony, and hated it. 
 
 Helena looked from one to another as if she 
 wondered (a) why Pat had proposed the girl, 
 (b) why Pierpoint objected. The chief, who 
 was rather slow at catching what we talked 
 about, said, " Of course. Of course. Univer- 
 sally respected. Nobody could do so well," 
 and promised that Helena should see her. 
 
 Pierpoint, however, was very much put out. 
 He sulked for the rest of the day. I had my 
 own idea about it — which simply was that 
 he had tried at one time or another to make 
 a fool of the girl, and didn't care to have two 
 of his failures brought together. I think Miss 
 Bacchus had ideas too — but I kept away from 
 her. It was settled, however, by Ethel's de- 
 finitely refusing. She was perfectly respectful, 
 I heard, but perfectly definite. She couldn't — 
 and she wouldn't. Sir Roderick was very much 
 offended, and, I believe, talked to her of 
 " loyalty." She wouldn't do it, though. Pier- 
 point recovered ; but shortly afterwards he 
 went away — yachting, I understood, in Norway.
 
 179 DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 He seemed to me to have put Helena out of his 
 head ; or he might have been waiting for 
 Wynyard to move. 
 
 Helena, naturally, was changed from what 
 she had been when I knew her before. From 
 being a reticent woman she was become trans- 
 parently candid. You must be very com- 
 fortably off when you can afford to discuss your 
 own little weaknesses. She said to me apropos 
 of Ethel's refusal of the coveted office, " Ethel 
 is a beautiful girl, but she doesn't like me. 
 Do you think she knows about me ? " 
 
 I was embarrassed. This wasn't keeping up 
 the conspiracy. I said, " She evidently doesn't 
 know what everybody else knows about you." 
 
 " Ah," she said, " you are all too kind. You 
 spoil me. But I love it — oh, I love to be 
 spoiled ! " Then her eyes shone very bright. 
 " Now you will see. I will make Ethel like 
 me." 
 
 I said, Was that worth while ? and she looked 
 at me, pondering — as if the question rather was, 
 Was / worth while ? She decided, apparently, 
 that I was, for she took an air of decision. 
 " Yes," she said, " it is necessary. I am greedy. 
 I have a sweet tooth, as you say — and we say 
 it too. I have a sweet tooth. I didn't know 
 it — but it is true."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 180 
 
 I said, " Oh, you'll get her — never a doubt of 
 it. She's a nice, good7girl, absolutely straight. 
 I have known her for years. We are quite good 
 friends. I dance with her once a year." 
 
 She opened her eyes. " You dance with 
 Ethel ? " 
 
 I explained about the servants' ball. " We 
 all dance with her — hyshe'll have us. But she 
 is in great demand. She's what we call 'the 
 thing.' What Pat calls ' it.' " 
 
 She smiled, rather wisely, from under con- 
 tracted brows. "Does Pierpoint call her 
 'it'?" 
 
 I did the best I could. " I don't suppose 
 he does now, because obviouslv she is not ' it.' 
 But I expect he did, in his day. Everybody 
 did, until you taught them better. I assure 
 you, she's a very nice girl indeed." 
 
 Helena threw up her brows, as if to shake 
 Pierpoint off into the air, then nodded her head 
 two or three times. " Yes, I like her. I will 
 make her like me. You will see — you will see." 
 
 She began to talk about Hermione, her child 
 --quite naturally, not concealing anything. 
 She said that a very dear friend of hers — a Pole 
 like herself — with whom she had exchanged 
 a weekly letter for more than fifteen years, 
 went to see Hermione once a week at the
 
 181 DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 Convent where she was bestowed, and kept 
 her regularly informed. She said : 
 
 " I suppose I ought not to do it, but I write 
 to Hermione under cover to my friend, and she 
 writes to me. My friend is Countess Voss. If 
 there were any trouble Hermione would go 
 directly to her." 
 
 I said that must comfort her. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " it is comfortable. It is 
 better than I could expect. She is happy with 
 the nuns. Thev will not tease her. Thev 
 know I should not allow it. They are very 
 sensible ladies." 
 
 I ventured to ask how old Hermione was. 
 " She is now twelve years," she said. " I have 
 three years — a long time for me." 
 
 " To ? " I asked for form's sake. 
 
 " Before she leaves the nuns. After that it 
 will be difficult. I don't know what I shall do, 
 but I need not think of that yet." 
 
 " No, you have time enough for that," I said. 
 " Meantime, you need not fret. You know 
 that she loves you." 
 
 " Yes, indeed. She loves me." She said 
 that softly, looking down at her hands. Then 
 she added, still more softly, with a pretty sort 
 of cooing, soothing note, " It is the dearest wish 
 of my heart to have her here, with me, with all
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 182 
 
 of you here. Then I shall have my heart quite 
 full. There will be no room left in it." 
 I said, " Except for Ethel Cook." 
 She looked up shy, half-laughingly. " Oh, 
 I'm not afraid of Ethel," she said. 
 
 That's what I call settling down, you know. 
 
 A visit which had been absurdly dreaded, 
 passed off without trouble. Why should there 
 have been trouble ? Even if the Marchioness 
 had caught at shreds of rumour, what did it 
 all come to but that Pierpoint had flirted with 
 a married woman ? That's how we put it to 
 each other in those days of happy pretence. 
 All the same, the Marchioness came alone — 
 without her girls. Her recognition of Helena 
 was of a glittering kind, of the kind which takes 
 nothing for granted. Not at all empressee, 
 implying the possibility of something dis- 
 agreeable on the sky-line. Wynyard said that 
 she took Helena as one takes a snow shower 
 on the hills. She didn't ask after the Baron, 
 or make any personal references. She talked 
 mostly about the Red Cross, I remember, and 
 St. John of Jerusalem, whoever he might be. 
 Helena talked about Greece and mentioned 
 her dusky Princess Glinka with affectionate 
 mockery. She even dragged Hector in to
 
 183 DAUGHTER OF THE HOUSE 
 
 confirm an anecdote, and once spoke of Pier- 
 point by name. The Marchioness smiled more 
 glitteringly than ever, said it must have been 
 delightful, and slid off on to some other subject. 
 It was unfortunate, I thought, that no other 
 women were there. Miss Bacchus had gone to 
 drink tea in the town. Mrs. Jack was golfing 
 with Pierpoint. She saw three men, and 
 Helena. It was impossible to prevent the 
 impression of a snug domestic interior, with a 
 tutelary goddess. The fact was that she had a 
 very tutored air upon her, soft, sweet and sedate. 
 She was almost sleek. She sat by the fire like 
 a weel-tappit hen, indeed, as if she had been 
 born to it. She couldn't help it. That was 
 how she felt about it. She had succumbed 
 to the prevailing fiction.
 
 XV : INTERRUPTION 
 
 On August 13 I was again at Inveroran, but 
 for a very short visit. I had left London on 
 the night of the 11th, arrived on the afternoon 
 of the 12th, and was down early next morning, 
 hoping to shoot with the party, which was 
 small this year. 
 
 It was a day of dry heat. There was a faint 
 blue mist rapidly clearing before the sun. 
 The country all about was faintly bleached 
 with drought. The promise of the moment 
 was for torrid weather. It was not yet nine 
 o'clock, but the sky was white. The sea lay 
 like a sheet of burnished steel — motionless, 
 colourless. 
 
 Standing on the terrace, looking out over 
 the bay, I became gradually conscious of a 
 strange vessel anchored some half a mile out. 
 You know the way moored ships have of 
 seeming part of the landscape. I had to look 
 long before I made sure that she was new. 
 This was a large steam yacht — with two masts. 
 She was a white boat, with sharp bows, 
 
 184
 
 185 INTERRUPTION 
 
 apparently about eighty tons. The burgee 
 and the flag at the stern drooped like weed in 
 a windless air. I could swear that she hadn't 
 been there yesterday when my steamer brought 
 me up from Glasgow. 
 
 I stepped back into the breakfast-room and 
 asked Sandars about her. He had seen her. 
 She had been there at seven o'clock when he 
 got up. Mr. Fairfax the factor had been in ; 
 he had asked him. But nobody seemed to 
 know. Sandars said a good many yachts 
 came in during the summer. The anchorage 
 was so good, he said. They didn't stay long. 
 They usually landed a large party for the 
 Abbey ruins (these are at Oranmouth and 
 considered very fine), and took luncheon. In 
 the afternoon they were away, said Sandars. 
 
 I went out again to have a look at her. 
 Black smoke straggled out of her funnel and 
 hung like a cloud above her. A motor launch 
 came round her stern and speeded for the quay 
 — two or three persons sat in it, one stood up 
 with glasses to his eyes. I ran back into the 
 house for some glasses, in my turn, but by the 
 time I had brought them to bear the launch 
 was under the land. I examined the yacht 
 carefully — there was nothing to be seen. I 
 saw a man in white jacket, apron and cap pass
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 186 
 
 along the deck. A cook, I judged. There 
 were no other signs of life. A few shore boats 
 hung about ; but there was nothing doing. 
 
 People strayed in to breakfast. Hector 
 came up from the gardens. He was the first. 
 I showed him the yacht. To oblige me, he 
 looked at her ; but his head was full of some- 
 thing or other, and he took no interest. 
 " Trippers," he said, with the glasses to his 
 eyes, and " Trippers," as he handed them 
 back to me. Then Pat came out, kilted and 
 brogued for the shoot, with shining morning 
 face and that air of perfect fitness for any 
 mortal thing which is so refreshing to jaded 
 Londoners. He was more alive to the pic- 
 turesque. " Hulloa ! A sail, a sail ! What 
 have we here ? " He looked long and 
 earnestly. " I bet you she's Italian," he said. 
 " I bet you," said I, for friendliness. 
 
 Then came Helena, all in cool white, and 
 kissed her two brothers, and shook hands with 
 me. " I'm going to get the chief's rose, if I 
 can find one," she said. " Who's coming ? " 
 
 " I am." That was Pat. Hector had ranked 
 himself without speech. " But I say," he went 
 on, " do look at the strange craft. We are 
 betting on her nation. I say, Italian. You 
 have all Europe to choose from — but you can't
 
 187 INTERRUPTION 
 
 have Italy, because that's bagged. Well, what 
 do you say ? " 
 
 Helena was looking. " She's very, very 
 beautiful. White and gold — yes, I see the gold 
 lines. And I see somebody aboard. In a 
 chair. With coffee. With Turkish coffee. And 
 cold water." 
 
 " Who is it ? Masculine or feminine ? — 
 Say neuter, do. No, don't, because it might 
 be improper." Pat looked carefully round, 
 in case he had said what he ought not to have 
 said. 
 
 But Helena took no notice of him. She was 
 still looking. " I don't want to look any more," 
 she said, and handed me the glasses. " I am 
 going for the rose. The flag is Austrian." 
 Her eyes loomed, big and heavy. She went 
 away slowly, and Hector followed her without 
 a word. She didn't lift her head so long as 
 they were in sight. 
 
 I handed the glasses to Pat. I had seen the 
 Austrian chequer-board flag stream^ out in a 
 little local wind. Pat put down the glasses 
 and looked at me. He was serious now. 
 
 " Austrian ! " he said ; and I echoed him, 
 " Austrian ! " 
 
 He said next, " Did you see that chap in 
 the chair ? "
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 188 
 
 " Yes," I said. 
 
 " There were two sticks on the deck. One 
 on each side of him." 
 
 " I know," I said. 
 
 " Look here. What are we to do ? " 
 
 I said, " What can we do ? There's nothing 
 to do. The less you do the better." 
 
 He took a turn and came back. " Do you 
 think that she saw him ? " 
 
 I said, " Yes, I do." 
 
 She didn't come to breakfast ; but Hector 
 saw it through. Directly it was over, he took 
 Miss Bacchus apart and explained to her what 
 had upset Helena. Miss Bacchus, like the 
 Trojan she was, cried briskly, " Ho, that's 
 the game, is it ? W r ell, I'll go and talk to her 
 about it " — and went. The chief had gone 
 off with his letters and the paper to his own 
 room. Pat went out on a bicycle to find out 
 what was going on. Hector and I beckoned 
 Pier point to follow us. Wynyard, who was 
 finishing his breakfast, called out that we should 
 wait for him. He came after us, his dog at 
 his heels. 
 
 We went down to the river and sat there in 
 the arbour by the aviary. All the time we 
 were talking, little yellow and silvery birds
 
 189 INTERRUPTION 
 
 darted across and across like streaks of 
 light. 
 
 Hector began on an uncertain note. " Pat's 
 gone down to the harbour to find out," he 
 said ; " so perhaps we had better wait till we 
 hear what he says. What do you think ? " 
 He addressed that question to me. 
 
 I said, " It doesn't much matter what Pat 
 says. You may take it as a certainty. I saw 
 him." 
 
 Wynyard was looking bleakly at Pierpoint, 
 who had his elbows on his knees and was 
 chewing a leaf. I hadn't reckoned on what 
 followed, I must say. 
 
 " You there," said Wynyard, with a kind 
 of croak in his voice, " you've brought this on 
 
 us." 
 
 Pierpoint looked up, red all over. " I won't 
 take this from you," he said. " You had 
 better understand that." 
 
 But Wynyard didn't flinch. " 
 philandering has done it. Do you" suppose 
 you are the God of Love ? Do you suppose 
 von Broderode doesn't put it all down to your 
 account ? You fool. And do you suppose 
 the Marchioness didn't tell him that Helena 
 was here — and that you were here ? Don't 
 you think she owes you one for making a fool
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 190 
 
 of that poor girl of hers ? How many more 
 women do you want about you ? " 
 
 Wynyard was showing his teeth, and Pier- 
 point jumped up and towards him. I pulled 
 him back ; and then Hector had a chance 
 of cutting in. 
 
 " You're only making mischief," he said to 
 Wynyard. " Surely you don't want to do that. 
 And you seem to be reflecting on Helena, 
 which I for one won't have. We came here 
 to see what we could do for her — at least, I 
 suppose we did." Pierpoint had walked away 
 along the river. 
 
 Hector said, " Some one must go and tell 
 my father. I think he'll be offended when he 
 finds out that we've discussed it without 
 him." 
 
 Wynyard said, " I'll answer for him. But 
 I tell you fairly, I won't answer for that chap." 
 He jerked his head towards his retreating 
 brother " He's rotten," he added. 
 
 We let that go by and listened to Hector. 
 He said that he wished to face the Baron at 
 once. He proposed to go and see him in the 
 course of the morning ; but when I asked 
 him what he thought of saying to him, he 
 wasn't very definite. Discuss the situation ! 
 Wynyard scoffed at that — but Hector insisted
 
 191 INTERRUPTION 
 
 that he was right. He said that the man must 
 have come here with something in his mind. 
 Well, he hoped to find out what that was. 
 Meantime he hoped that Helena would keep 
 to the grounds. We wrangled about this for 
 some time without getting at close quarters. 
 Hector then said he must go and see his father — 
 and just at that moment Pat came on the scene. 
 
 He was out of breath and excited. " I say, 
 I've found out all about it. I saw the harbour- 
 master. She's the Coryphceus of Trieste — 
 belongs to a Count Jellyfish or something. 
 Wait, I'll tell you." He produced a paper 
 and read from it — " i S.Y. Coryphceus, port of 
 origin, Trieste . . . owner, Count Szombor 
 Jelacics ' — did you ever hear such a name ? 
 Then I went up to the Marine, where they 
 are all staying. I saw Jellykicks in the hall. 
 He's got bunches of hair in his ears — and the 
 rest of it cut en brosse. He is a hairy man. 
 Tall chap — wears stays. Then there's another 
 man — sandy man with a perfectly round face 
 — all red. And on the terrace I saw old 
 Welcome Highlander and a cigar. So there 
 you are." 
 
 I said, " If you take my advice, you fellows, 
 you will leave them entirely alone. You will 
 do literally nothing, and you will go on as if
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 192 
 
 literally nothing had happened. If you make 
 the first move you will put yourselves in the 
 wrong. I suppose it may be said that you 
 have made it already, and have put yourselves 
 in the wrong, but we'll leave it at that. He's 
 here to bore her into going back. He has come 
 out here, in my belief, to put you in a false 
 position. Well, you'll get there if you do 
 anything. Legal process is really his only 
 remedy — and that's very little. If he won't 
 take it, don't try to force him." 
 
 I didn't convince Hector, I could see. Pat 
 was a boy, and of course wanted to have a 
 slap at them. I didn't expect to convince 
 him. But Wynyard took my side. 
 
 " I think he's right. I think we must sit 
 it out." Pat said — to my surprise — " Can't 
 she be got out of it ? " 
 
 Wynyard said, No, she couldn't. He said, 
 if she went away, she'd be hunted. Once start 
 her on a run and there'd be no stopping it. 
 She couldn't be better off than she was here. 
 It was up to us to see that, whoever suffered 
 by it, it wasn't she. 
 
 And then into the midst of us she came, and 
 stood looking from one to other of four men 
 who loved her. She was pale, and her eyes 
 were heavy.
 
 (I 
 
 193 INTERRUPTION 
 
 We all stood up and waited for her. It 
 was no time for forms and ceremonies. Not 
 one of us disguised our feelings. 
 
 Pat broke the silence. " Where's Pier- 
 point ? " 
 
 She said, " He is with his father." 
 Does father know ? " That was Pat again. 
 Yes," she said. " I told him. He wishes 
 to see you all in his room. But I came because 
 I thought that I must see you first." Then 
 she hesitated, and I saw her eyes fill to the 
 brim. She held out her arms — " Let me go," 
 she said. " Let me go." 
 
 Wynyard threw up his hand. He was 
 crimson. " I'll die before you shall go," he 
 said. His eyes were burning and seemed to 
 smite her. She couldn't meet them ; she 
 quailed. 
 
 Hector said — and he was at the opposite 
 pole from his hot and furious brother — " At 
 whatever cost, you must do as you wish. If 
 you want to leave us, it must be so. If one 
 thing is certain, it is that you are free." 
 
 Poor dear ! If one thing was certain it was 
 that she was not free. But one couldn't say 
 a word. 
 
 She went on talking, as if to herself, as if 
 protesting to herself. There were tears in her 
 
 N
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 194 
 
 eyes, tears in her voice. " I have been happy 
 — you were all so kind — how could I be any- 
 thing but happy ? But it is my business to 
 be unhappy. I must not stop to think about 
 it." She shook her head, and wiped her tears 
 away. " Oh, why did you make me happy ? " 
 she said to Hector, with a gentle reproach. 
 44 Why did you do it ? " It was absurd, but 
 very touching. Why on earth ? Just for an 
 idea ! 
 
 Hector would have spoken, but Wynyard 
 brushed him and his words away. 44 My 
 dear," he said, 44 you are going to be happy. 
 That's why you are here — and that's why we 
 are here. Come now and talk to the chief. 
 We'll see you through." 
 
 He turned her ; he turned Hector. She 
 went up the slope between them, her head 
 hanging. Pat and I followed. 
 
 In the chief's room, backed by the antlered 
 heads, and long narrow portraits of bewigged 
 Jacobites, we found ourselves in a council of 
 war. Sir Roderick sat, Pierpoint stood beside 
 him. I thought he had taken that place for 
 shelter — but it looked bad. It was his presence, 
 of course, that put us in the wrong. We 
 crowded to the door at first. Helena crossed
 
 195 INTERRUPTION 
 
 the room and went straight to the old man. 
 He put his arm round her and kissed her 
 forehead. Then he told her that she couldn't 
 stop here while we talked. He asked her to 
 trust him to do what was best for her and for 
 the family, and said that he would come and 
 see her directly he had talked to us. She 
 went away quite quietly, without raising her 
 head. 
 
 We talked, as usual, all at sixes and sevens. 
 We were in a tight place undoubtedly, because 
 we wanted two incompatible things. We 
 wanted Helena to be happy, and we wanted 
 to have it out with the Baron. Now she 
 couldn't be happy if she stayed with us, nor 
 if she left us and went back to her husband. 
 And we couldn't have it out with von Broderode 
 either, because we couldn't drag her name 
 into our debates with him. Only two of us, 
 myself and Wynyard, had an idea of what 
 the Baron really meant to do. The chief 
 thought that he meant to carry her off ; and 
 I believe that Hector suspected it. What 
 Pierpoint thought I couldn't make out. Not 
 that it mattered. He had gone to pieces. 
 We were to know why that was, in time ; but 
 we none of us knew it then. Miserable wretch 
 that he was ! He saw that we all despised
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 196 
 
 him — and yet, it's all very well, but what he 
 could have done, I really don't know. He 
 should never have come to Inveroran, you 
 say ? Of course he should not. But he was 
 one of those men who only seriously begin to 
 want a thing when it is beyond dispute that 
 they haven't a ghost of a chance of getting it. 
 I am sure that he began really to desire Helena 
 after his check at Wynyard's hands. I think 
 also that her indifference to him was a per- 
 petual sting to him. At this moment I believe 
 that he was sincerely in love with her. But 
 nothing is more certain than that she neither 
 knew nor cared whether he was or not. She 
 was over head and ears in love with Inveroran, 
 and herself a daughter of the house. She may 
 have loved him once ; and he had failed her. 
 Yet here she was ! Here she was in this 
 house, with every male inhabitant of it, you 
 may say, at her feet. And if she liked the 
 feeling of that, it's no wonder. There were 
 better men than Pier point there. Hector was 
 a better man, Wynyard was a better man. 
 Either Hector or Wynyard would have thrown 
 up his inheritance for her. Hector would 
 have taken her to Paris or London and taught 
 her the uses of love in a life of obscure work. 
 1 can see Hector, in a Chelsea studio or Soho
 
 197 INTERRUPTION 
 
 attic, as happy as only an artist can be. He 
 would have been a poet, of course, and I don't 
 doubt a pretty bad poet ; but he would have 
 been happy, and she would have adored him 
 and thought him a prince of poets. Wynyard 
 would have gone to Canada with her, or to an 
 Argentine ranch. He would have given her 
 half a dozen children, and she would have 
 thought him a king of cowboys. She was 
 like that. She had a sweet tooth, as she Said. 
 She wanted to be loved, but much more than 
 that, she wanted to love. 
 
 Now Pierpoint, once, had very nearly swept 
 her off her feet. It was he who had persuaded 
 her to run. He had carried her passions, 
 inflamed her imagination ; but no more. He 
 had stopped. He had been stopped, but she 
 didn't know it. Pierpoint had wanted her, 
 but had never loved her as either of the others 
 would. Pierpoint was a voluptuary, a pre- 
 cocious Don Juan. Helena was no fool. She 
 had her feelings like other people, and they 
 had swamped her judgment. But when the 
 floods subsided, the wits returned to her. He 
 had pushed her over the edge, and hadn't 
 followed her. Well, she had learned to do 
 without him. If she had been let alone she 
 would have done very well without matrimony
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 198 
 
 at all. She had plenty of love on hand with- 
 out that. 
 
 But here, up against us, was that brisk- 
 minded Baron von Broderode with but one 
 idea before him, and no scruples about happi- 
 ness or unhappiness. What were we to do 
 against him ? 
 
 While the chief listened to us, I could see 
 which way he himself inclined. He loved this 
 daughter of the house so much that he would 
 have sunk his chieftainship for her, I felt sure. 
 But what he loved still more was his own 
 dignity. He had stiffened himself into intend- 
 ing to keep her and the chieftainship too. 
 His difficulty was a not unnatural one. He 
 was casting about for a moral gloss to overlay 
 his resolution. He was sharp enough to see 
 the rent in Hector's armour. The poor Hector 
 kept saying that Helena must be made happy. 
 Ridiculous — it was only too clear that what- 
 ever happened Helena must be unhappy. 
 And, although he admired it, he couldn't 
 quite bring himself round to Wynyard's frank 
 declaration of piracy. " She's here, and she 
 shall stay here," said Wynyard over and over 
 again. This was accompanied by young 
 Patrick's " Good man — good old Wynyard ! " 
 By degrees and degrees he slid gently down
 
 199 INTERRUPTION 
 
 into the fine old position of the man of property 
 — the man in possession. " No, no, sir, 
 possession is nine points of the law. We can't 
 have that interfered with " — and " What, sir ! 
 A man comes and flouts me on my own land ! 
 He brings his ship into my waters, and stays 
 at my own hotel — and — and threatens me, 
 by Gad ! No, no — we can't have that, my 
 lads." So he comforted himself. It didn't 
 matter ; it was established that Helena was 
 not to go. 
 
 Nothing was to be done for the present. 
 We were to carry on as usual. We would 
 shoot, we would fish, play golf ; we would 
 show ourselves abroad. All was to be accord- 
 ing to the time-honoured ways of the Malleson 
 clan. " They will stand by us — I know them — 
 bless their red hearts ! " said the old chief. 
 But Wynyard didn't echo him. Wynyard 
 didn't care whether they stood by him or not. 
 
 At the close of our meeting Sir Roderick 
 went off to see Helena. I'm told the meeting 
 was very affecting. She cried in his arms, as 
 she had done when she first came, and he 
 soothed her with his loving and very possibly 
 foolish old words. Then Pierpoint came in 
 — looking, Miss Bacchus said, as if he was 
 going to the dentist — and (as even she allowed)
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 200 
 
 behaved well. He asked her to forgive him ; 
 he asked her to forget him. Fatuous young 
 man ! She had done that long ago. Of course 
 he really meant, not to forget him. But he 
 might have spared his breath. He was nothing 
 to her. But she gave him a sad and gracious 
 smile — and I suppose he built upon it, for he 
 began to lay siege to her again from that hour. 
 Sir Roderick, however, was paramount. 
 She couldn't stand up against him. After all, 
 she may have reasoned, it was her own doing. 
 She had sent a letter to his bosom, and followed 
 it there in person. If he had accepted her it 
 wasn't for her to deny him. He was going to 
 be besieged in his own house — and here he was 
 patting her shoulder and taking it as all in 
 the day's work. She could only listen to him 
 and be grateful. All should come right. 
 Would she not trust them, since they were one 
 and all for her ? What could she say ? She 
 gave herself to his arms, and he led her away.
 
 XVI : THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 After luncheon we all felt adventurous. Pat 
 and I said that we would go down to the shore 
 and look about us. Hector and Wynyard took 
 Helena up into the hills. Pierpoint said that 
 he should go and give Mrs. Jack a round on the 
 links, and would drive her down in his cart. 
 
 Pat was in high fettle. It was all pure joy 
 to the likes of him. I believe that he had a 
 revolver on his person somewhere. I recog- 
 nized his sword-stick. Then there was his 
 huntsman's knife. He was armed to the teeth. 
 We took a short cut over the foothills which 
 they call the braes, and by a lane which brings 
 you out by the Western Bank about midway 
 of the main street. A little below this junction 
 of roads is Rosemount. I noticed at once that 
 there was something going on here. The blinds 
 were up, the windows open. A man was 
 scraping the front door preparatory to a new 
 coat of paint. All agog as we were for the 
 unexpected, here was a flick on the cheek. 
 
 We walked up the short circular sweep, 
 
 201
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 202 
 
 and Pat accosted the painter with a " Good 
 day, Donald." 
 
 " Good day, Mr. Patrick. A fine afternoon 
 we are having." 
 
 " First-rate," says Pat. " I say, what are 
 you up to ? Have you got a tenant for this 
 place ? " 
 
 The man busied himself over his job. " I 
 couldn't say," we heard, and then — " But I 
 believe." That's as near as a Highlandman 
 will go. Pat took it as it was meant. 
 
 " Oh, you have ? I wonder who that will 
 be?" 
 
 No answer to that. We walked past him 
 into the empty house. The passage ran 
 straight through past the staircase, down a step, 
 and out, past the kitchen and scullery to a 
 glass door. Beyond that we saw a decent 
 garden, with a large sycamore tree on a square 
 of grass. Then came a privet hedge — kitchen- 
 garden beyond. The two front rooms had 
 bow windows and a full view of Main Street 
 either way. They were well above the con- 
 taining wall of the front garden. 
 
 " A fine strategic point," I said ; and then 
 Pat jumped to my suspicion. 
 
 " I say, do you suppose he's going to live 
 here ? "
 
 203 THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 I said, " That's my little idea." 
 
 He looked at me with concern. 
 
 " She'll hate that." 
 
 " She mustn't know it," I said. 
 
 Pat tossed his head. " Know it ! That's 
 absurd. She's bound to know it. She knows 
 everything — God knows how." Then he won- 
 dered, and admired. " By George, if you're 
 right — and I believe you are — he's a bit of a 
 great man, is the Baron. He don't do things 
 by halves." 
 
 " He's a German," I said. " They don't." 
 
 " I thought Austrians were slackers ? " he said. 
 
 I told him that Austrians were Germans with 
 a high glaze. " But we've scratched the glaze 
 for this one," I said, " and are up against the 
 German." 
 
 We were in one of the bow- windows, looking 
 out — which was foolish of us. Just then two 
 strangers turned in at the gate. 
 
 " Trapped ! " said Pat to me. " What shall 
 we do now ? " 
 
 " Stop where we are," I told him. " That's 
 all we can do." 
 
 The two men were dressed with extreme 
 elegance — dark-blue pea-jackets, white ducks, 
 white shoes, white yachting-caps. One was 
 tall and slim. As Pat had reported, he was
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 204 
 
 very hairy. From one point of view he was 
 like a walking whisker. He had cavernous 
 eyes, which at close quarters were of fathomless 
 dark. The other had a more Saxon appearance. 
 He was very fair, very pink, very round-faced. 
 He wore an eyeglass. 
 
 They saw us, straightened their backs, and 
 quickened their pace. They entered the house 
 and stood behind us in the doorway. I turned, 
 Pat turned ; we took oft our hats and made to 
 retire, doing our best to assume that nothing 
 had happened. 
 
 Neither of them returned the salute. The 
 tall and hairy gentleman said nothing. The 
 shorter man, with a great deal of colour in his 
 round face, spoke with excitement surging in 
 his voice, and giving it a bell-like resonance. 
 
 " That," he said, " was private property. 
 It was a private house." 
 
 I said, " I'm very sorry. It was inexcus- 
 able." 
 
 He patted the ground with his toe. " It 
 was quite so," he said. 
 
 The other man looked at the ceiling and 
 murmured to it, " Impossible," in French. 
 
 " You must let me explain," I said. " I did 
 not understand that the house was taken. I 
 thought it was to let."
 
 WE RETIRED, FEELING WHAT WE DESERVED TO FEEL "
 
 205 
 
 THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 c; 
 
 (C 
 
 Not at all, not at all," said the Saxon. 
 It was to let— yes. But now it is not any 
 
 longer to let." 
 
 " Impossible ! " murmured his friend, still to 
 
 the ceiling, " impossible ! " 
 
 " In that case," I said, " I have the honour 
 to leave you in possession, with many apologies." 
 They made elaborate room for us. They 
 took off their caps and almost swept the floor 
 with them. We retired, feeling what we de- 
 served to feel. 
 
 But our adventures were not over. Round- 
 ing the gate, we came plump upon the Baron 
 in a bath-chair, which a seaman from the 
 yacht was pushing. By the side of him was 
 the dark-skinned woman whom I had heard 
 called Teresa Visconti. 
 
 We were so much taken aback that Pat lost 
 his head and I the use of my limbs. I mean 
 that Pat, abruptly enough, jerked out, " Hullo, 
 Baron," in his freshest and youngest voice, and 
 that I held out mv hand to him. 
 
 He was severely changed in looks, poor chap, 
 but very gay. Disease had deepened the lines, 
 and Nature surged outwards where she could. 
 His eyes were heavily bagged, his cheeks had 
 hollowed ; he seemed to hold his head sideways 
 in order to look up at us. His gnarled hands
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 206 
 
 clasped on his stick shook fearfully. But he 
 was his old galliard self within walls. 
 
 " Ha ! " he said, " here's my old-young 
 friend, the cool cucumber. How are you ? 
 And how is your friend Patrick ? Quite well ? 
 That is excellent. With me it is only so-so. 
 But you see I remember Inveroran. I like it 
 so much that after two years I remember it, 
 and the Games of Odysseus. And the ball — 
 what ? You have a ball this year at the 
 Castle ? " 
 
 I said that old customs die hard at Inveroran. 
 Whereupon he bent his shaggy brows upon me, 
 and said in his throat, " Yes, they die hard." 
 
 Then he changed the subject and asked us, 
 How did we like his house ? Pat said it was a 
 good house. He addressed the next remark to 
 me. 
 
 " I owe you that house of mine — do you 
 remember ? We talked of Peter Grant, and 
 you told me of the lady, the bonne amie, his 
 ancestress ? Well, Mr. Peter Grant sells to 
 me. That is now my castle at Inveroran. 
 The Englishman's house is so-called, eh ? It is 
 a fine prospect. Don't you agree with me ? " 
 
 I agreed that it would suit his purpose 
 excellently. He said, " My purpose ! What 
 do you know of my purpose, ha ? "
 
 207 THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 One of the Baron's most valid qualities was 
 that he very rarely got angry. I thought that 
 he was going to break out now — but he caught 
 himself in the act, and bent off on a side track. 
 He turned, beaming, on Pat. " And what will 
 Mr. Patrick be doing in these piping timesv? " 
 he asked. "How goes it with Oxford no-vtec*" 
 days ? " . .• ' 
 
 Patrick grinned and said that Oxford was 
 going strong when he last saw it. They ex- 
 changed a few pleasantries before we left him. 
 He waved his hand to us and was wheeled up 
 the sweep of his outpost. 
 
 We walked down the Main Street, and I had 
 just said that we had learned one thing at 
 least, which was that the Baron expected a long 
 leaguer, when Pat became confidential. He 
 took my arm. 
 
 " 1 say," he said, " he's rather an old sports- 
 man, isn't he ? " 
 
 I said, Certainly he was. 
 
 Pat added more of his inverted praise — such 
 as that he seemed not half a bad old chap — 
 and then went on to muse. 
 
 " I suppose she can't stand him — at any 
 price ? I don't know, you know, but I should 
 have said he could be good company." 
 
 I didn't feel that I could discuss such delicate
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 208 
 
 matters as underlay these youthful misgivings. 
 What I did say was that Helena had seemed 
 very depressed when she was with him, and 
 was only depressed now when she heard that 
 he was near her again. That didn't look well, I 
 said. I admitted that it couldn't be used as an 
 argument, but reminded him that, for what 
 it was worth, she had been extraordinarily 
 happy with us. 
 
 He was full of thought. He said, " I know, 
 I know." And then jumped into altruism. 
 " Of course the decent thing to do would be for 
 him to say, Look here, I can see you are as 
 happy as a bird up there. All right — I'm glad 
 — God bless you. And then clear out ! Mind 
 you, that's what old Hector would do — to- 
 morrow. But the Baron don't look at it like 
 that." 
 
 " Not at all," I said. " The Baron says, 
 She belongs to me. I bought and paid for her. 
 And she's useful — she amuses me." 
 
 Pat said, " Oh, shut up. I don't believe it. 
 I've half a mind to go back and ask him." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, don't," I said. " He'd 
 make things worse than they are." 
 
 " Well," Pat said, " if you ask me, I don't 
 think they could be much worse. Are you 
 going to tell them what's happened ? "
 
 209 THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 I said that I should tell Hector, but nobodv 
 else. He said, " Poor old Hector. He's badly 
 knocked over this. So's Wynyard." 
 
 I said, " I must say that if she had to run 
 away, I wish it had been Hector or Wynyard 
 who had persuaded her. There wouldn't have 
 been this absurd siege — and — oh, well, it's 
 no good talking about that." 
 
 Pat said, " I know what you were going to 
 say. Pierpoint's a rotter — but there he is. 
 And she don't care two straws for him. And, 
 after all, he didn't run away with her." 
 
 " Why the deuce can't Pierpoint go abroad ? " 
 I snapped out. " The Baron might follow him 
 to Canada." 
 
 Then Pat looked at me. " You don't think 
 the Baron cares about Pierpoint ! I'll bet you 
 what you like he's never given him a thought." 
 
 There it was. Of course he hadn't. 
 
 "Hector," Pat said, "would never have run 
 away with her. He'd have been in love with 
 her, and she with him — and for that reason 
 alone he wouldn't have done her any harm. 
 He couldn't. He's got such a nice mind." 
 
 " I think you are right about Hector," I 
 agreed. " He's not a strong man, but he's a 
 gentleman. Now Wynyard " 
 
 Again Pat looked at me. " Do you want my 
 
 o
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 210 
 
 real opinion ? I believe that Pierpoint would 
 have got her if he could, but that Wynyard 
 wouldn't let him." 
 
 Then in fair exchange I gave him my own 
 real opinion, which was that Helena didn't 
 want to run away with anybody in particular, 
 but was perfectly happy as she was. All she 
 wanted was for everybody to be in love with 
 her. 
 
 Pat shook his head knowingly. " Well, 
 everybody is — including old Two-Sticks. In a 
 way, you know. You are, I suppose " 
 
 I owned to it, " in a way." 
 
 " Well, so am I — in a way." 
 
 " And what's your way ? " I said. 
 
 He told me. " I want her to be happy — I 
 want her to be about, to look at — to be there 
 when I come back, and to make things go. 
 But I don't want to run away with her. That 
 would spoil the fun. And besides — oh, well — 
 it wouldn't do." 
 
 I adjured him to continue ; and he made a 
 rather acute remark. " She's one of those sort 
 of women," he said, " who lend themselves to 
 exclusiveness. If I were to let myself fall in 
 love with her — in that sort of way, you know — 
 I should want to lock her up in a castle and 
 have her to myself." 

 
 211 THE SIEGE OPENS 
 
 " That's how the Baron feels about it," I 
 said. 
 
 " Yes," said Pat, " I know he does. And we 
 can't have that — can we?" 
 
 I said, We should have to see about it.
 
 XVII : HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 I had seen some curious looks bent upon us 
 during our afternoon in the town, and felt 
 pretty sure that the place was humming with 
 surmise. Mrs. Chevenix reported as much 
 when we met her before dinner. She said she 
 was bespattered with looks, and thought that 
 she didn't much care about it. " Really, I 
 think the poor dear will have to go," she said. 
 " The whole town must know about it by this 
 time, and you know how they feel about such 
 things." 
 
 I said, No doubt. But would Sir Roderick 
 give her up ? She didn't know him as well 
 as I did. Poor Helena was now not much 
 more than a symbol. 
 
 She said, Surely it could be arranged. Her 
 advice was that Hector and I should see the 
 Baron and try to make terms. I didn't tell 
 her then that I had seen him ; but I did tell 
 her what I thought we were in for. I told her 
 about Rosemount and the Baron's two friends. 
 " We are besieged, you know. Inveroran is 
 
 212
 
 213 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 become a second Troy, and the ships of the 
 Achaians are in the roadstead. Menelaus is 
 putting up his hut." 
 
 She was amused. " And Achilles — is he 
 there ? " 
 
 " I've seen him to-day. He's a hairy man, 
 but very elegant. However, he can't talk 
 Trojan." 
 
 " And will they get in on a wooden horse ? ' 
 she asked me. 
 
 I said, " They'll get in on a high horse, if 
 we're not careful." 
 
 She looked at me, lowered her voice. " You 
 really think they will ? " 
 
 I said, " I do think so. They'll turn the 
 whole place against us, except for a few of the 
 Clan Malleson. It's rank nonsense, you know, 
 because you aren't bound to have a man to 
 stay with you ; but the trouble is with Pier- 
 point. If it's known — as of course it is — that 
 he's thrown up his commission, they'll put 
 two together — and make a couple. But I 
 sharply suspect that we're in for a fight. 
 Pierpoint won't go, and the chief won't let 
 Helena go either. He has got his back up ; 
 but so has von Broderode. However, I'll tell 
 Hector what you say. I'm quite willing to 
 go down with him — if we are allowed."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 214 
 
 She told me more. " Helena is a strange 
 creature. She has a perfect hunger for people. 
 Do you know that she has won over that good- 
 looking maid who wouldn't have anything to 
 do with her ? She told me just before I came 
 down that she was much happier now. I 
 asked her, Why ? ' Oh,' she said, ' because I 
 have made great friends with Ethel.' Ethel ! 
 I didn't know who on earth she meant — but 
 it's the maid. I asked her how she had done 
 it. She said, ' Oh, I told her of my troubles, 
 and we cried together. I feel better.' She 
 told me that the girl had troubles too — and 
 you know what that usually means." 
 
 I protested strongly. I said there wasn't a 
 more virtuous young woman in England ; but 
 Mrs. Jack said that you never knew. How- 
 ever, Helena couldn't tell her any more because 
 she didn't know any more. But wasn't Helena 
 extraordinary ? she said. " If your troubles 
 were her troubles, I don't think you'd talk 
 about them to another man's maids, do you ? " 
 I didn't think you would. 
 
 Mrs. Jack began again. " Oh, and there's 
 another thing that she said. I must tell you. 
 She said, ' I am sure that Ethel can help me. 
 You'll see that she will.' I asked her how ? 
 She didn't know, but she was quite sure."
 
 215 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 There was no doubt that Helena was in 
 much better spirits. I observed her at dinner, 
 and again afterwards when we were in the 
 drawing-room, doing our respectable best to 
 pretend that nothing had happened. I saw 
 her the centre of a group by the fire — for the 
 nights were chill although we were in mid- 
 August, and the log fire made a point oVappui. 
 Pat was with her, talking nonsense while he 
 held out silk for her to wind ; old Laura 
 Bacchus was near-by, twinkling while she took 
 it all in and absorbed it into her seasoned old 
 head. Wynyard stood with his back to the 
 mantelpiece, frowning down, but evidently at 
 peace with the world. Helena talked and 
 flashed her eyes, softly bright, now at Pat on 
 his knees before her, once or twice quickly up 
 at Wynyard. Sometimes she telegraphed over 
 to Mrs. Chevenix, who was playing piquet with 
 the chief. Pierpoint sat by himself, reading. 
 I wondered over the scene — and as I wondered 
 Hector, who was with me, drew me apart. 
 We went out into the hall. 
 
 There he said, after some preface about his 
 wonder whether he ought to tell me or not — 
 which I solved for him by saying that I was 
 only stopping here to be of use, and that if I 
 couldn't know what was going on I could be
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 216 
 
 of no use and had better clear — it was then 
 that he said, " She has dismissed Pierpoint." 
 That shook me to the core, as Pat says. 
 
 " What do you mean — ? " Then he told 
 me of the scene already related, where Pierpoint 
 solemnly asked to be forgiven, and was for- 
 given. So Pierpoint, Hector thought, was out 
 of it. 
 
 So did I think at the time. " No wonder 
 she is happier. She has done the right thing." 
 
 " She has done the only thing," he said. 
 
 " Her next move will be to go back to her 
 Baron, you'll see." But he said, No, to that. 
 
 He said, " She won't go back. She may 
 want to run away — for our sakes. But she 
 won't go back to him, because she's afraid to. 
 I think myself that she would like to go back 
 to Vienna and into a convent. She could see 
 the child then, and not be in any danger. She 
 has got to hate von Broderode — to hate and to 
 dread him." 
 
 I asked, " How do you know, Hector ? " 
 
 " She told us so — Wynyard and me this 
 afternoon. She talked with absolute freedom, 
 as if we were her blood-brothers. She said 
 that she had been wicked, but that it was over. 
 She said that she didn't intend to be wicked 
 any more. That was how she put it. And
 
 217 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 then she said quite calmly, ' I have been 
 wicked, but I have learned by it. I have 
 learned how to be good. I could not go back 
 to him (she never names him, you know, or 
 calls him her " husband ") now — for that would 
 be shameful for me. I would stay with you 
 all if I could be allowed. There would be no 
 harm — except to you. That is why I hope 
 you will let me go home.' " 
 
 " How did Wynyard take it ? " I wanted to 
 know. 
 
 He said, " She has a great power over 
 Wynyard. She knew that she could do what 
 she liked with me. All her coaxing and 
 confidence was directed to him. She took his 
 arm and reasoned with him. He didn't say 
 anything — either for or against ; but I don't 
 think he will be much trouble." 
 
 Then I told him what Pat and myself had 
 let ourselves in for. He said at once, " If she 
 knows this it|will settle it. She will go. But 
 if my father knows it he won't let her. This 
 will infuriate him. He'll connect it with the 
 Malleson Curse." He looked at me with wide, 
 serious eyes. " And, of course, it does connect 
 with it — remarkably. You see that ? " 
 
 I said thatjl|saw what he meant. Provi- 
 dence did not intend there to be a daughter in
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 218 
 
 Inveroran. The Baron was the instrument of 
 Heaven. That was it ! 
 
 He took it with the utmost seriousness. 
 " We are bound to fight it. And we will fight 
 it. I must tell my father of this." 
 
 He wouldn't hear of going to see the Baron. 
 He was deeply incensed by what I had told 
 him — so much so that he failed, I thought, to 
 appreciate the science and capacity for action 
 of the enemy. In fact, I had begun with a 
 nerveless idealist and had turned him into a 
 passion-swept clansman, all raw head and 
 bloody bones. 
 
 He left me and went over to his father. He 
 stood by him, watching the game for a little ; 
 then I saw him put his hand on the chief's 
 shoulder. The old man finished out his hand, 
 and then bowed to his opponent and got up. 
 Hector told him. I saw the news catch him 
 about the midriff and flood upwards to his 
 face. His bald head was suffused with crimson. 
 He looked like an affronted wild beast — a stag 
 or a bull startled in front of his feeding herd. 
 They made a fine pair, the two of them ; for 
 Hector was flushed and fierce. 
 
 The chief, amid the concern of all present, 
 signalled to Wynyard and Pierpoint to follow 
 him. They obeyed at once, without any fuss.
 
 219 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 Pat jumped up to go with them. His father 
 frowned, faltered — then allowed it. They took 
 no notice of me, and I made no effort to follow 
 them out. Directly they were gone Helena 
 fled across the room to Miss Bacchus, and 
 knelt by her side. As for me, I was very 
 uncomfortable where I was, and not very 
 clear where else I could be. At any rate I 
 thought that I would leave the ladies alone. 
 I took a cigarette in the hall and walked about 
 on the terrace. 
 
 I may have been there the better part of 
 an hour. It was a beautiful, soft, clear night. 
 The stars were brilliant, but there was no 
 moon. Peace was abroad ; the river tinkled 
 below me in the dark ; the owls shrilled as 
 they quested. Man, as usual, seemed jarringly 
 out of place in such a world as this, because 
 while he so plainly didn't belong to it, he was 
 so plainly doing what the rest of it was after. 
 Those owls were hunting mice ; out in the 
 thickets there weie stoats after the blood of 
 flying rabbits. Foxes were abroad quick-nosed 
 for hens. Great trout in the pools were 
 scattering shoals of fry. It was a world of 
 warfare ; and there were my friends of old, 
 my hosts, at the same red game. Helena was
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 220 
 
 the prize. Down in the town, men were laying 
 schemes for her ; up here too were men, who 
 had her, devising how best to keep her. What 
 did all this mean ? Must we give up the 
 game ? Were we indeed stoats and foxes — 
 wolves in coats and trousers ? I was in a 
 cynical mood. Was not this what it came to ? 
 
 Out of the dark came a white figure. It 
 was Helena herself. 
 
 She passed quite close to where I was leaning 
 over the balustrade. I had seen her face like 
 a pale disk. But she did not come alone ; she 
 was accompanied by a woman in black, whose 
 face also I saw like a grey moon beside hers. 
 Helena was talking vehemently. " I must — 
 I tell you I must — but not alone. I am afraid 
 of him too much. But you will come with 
 me — you are so strong. I know that you 
 will. . . ." They passed on along the terrace 
 and I heard no more. They did not return ; 
 they had gone down the steps, probably to 
 the river walk. I had no doubt as to who 
 her companion was. | It was her new friend 
 Ethel Cook. Extraordinary that she should 
 have picked out that girl ! She had dear old 
 Laura Bacchus, and Mrs. Chevenix, a brick, if 
 ever there was one — but she chose to confide 
 in a maid ! It was pure instinct, of course.
 
 "OUT OF THE DARK CAME A WHITE FIGURE'
 
 221 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 Women jump at these things, or we think so. 
 But they communicate with each other in 
 ways that men will never understand. I 
 wondered whether Ethel would go with her, 
 whether they would cut the knot that way — 
 and was still wondering when Hector came 
 out and called me. I answered his whistle 
 and he came down. 
 
 He apologized for leaving me in the lurch. 
 It was become now, he said, so purely a 
 personal matter that he had not dared to 
 suggest my presence to his father, who would 
 not have liked it. " He is so edgy just now," 
 said Hector, " that he don't like Pat to be 
 present, just because he had talked to von 
 Broderode." 
 
 I laughed. " Poor old Pat ! He did it in 
 the simplest way. He's not such a Highlander 
 as most of you. It's Oxford." 
 
 Hector said quietly, " I was at Cambridge, 
 as you know. But I understand my father's 
 feeling. But however — " he broke away. 
 " We have had it out at last. We are going 
 to see it through. There will be lots of trouble. 
 The town will make difficulties, and so will 
 the country. The clansmen up the glens will 
 hold by us. We are going to carry on." 
 
 "As if nothing had happened ? " I asked
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 222 
 
 He said, " Precisely. We feel that this 
 matter of the legend, curse, which you choose, 
 must be faced. There never has been a 
 daughter of this house — it does so happen. 
 Now there is one. If we give way, my father 
 feels that — I agree with him ; we all do " 
 
 " Well ? Put it definitely, for my plain 
 intelligence," I said. 
 
 " I'll try," said Hector. " We all feel that 
 if we surrender Helena now, we shall be giving 
 in to the tradition, with unfortunate results." 
 
 " Do you seriously think that the results, if 
 any, of your allowing her to go back could by 
 any possibility be worse than those of her 
 staying on here ? I really want to under- 
 stand," I explained. 
 
 Hector said, " Yes, we do. If she leaves us 
 we establish a record against ourselves. People 
 will believe in the curse. If she stays, the 
 man will get sick of it, and go. He must die 
 very soon. You tell me he is much worse. 
 When he is dead the matter can be regularized. 
 Then she will no doubt marry Pierpoint." 
 
 I am certain that she won't," I told him. 
 
 She will never have anything to do with 
 Pierpoint again. After all, my dear chap," I 
 said, " what has she had to do with him ? 
 Aren't you lending yourself to silly scandal- 

 
 223 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 mongering among the townsfolk by continuing 
 the legend that she nearly ran away with 
 him ? The facts are that Pierpoint wanted 
 her to, and that she didn't. There are no 
 other facts, so far as I know." 
 
 Hector looked very stiff and solemn. " We 
 can hardly discuss it," he said. " But seeing 
 what she said this afternoon, I don't suppose 
 you'll dispute that she also thought of an 
 elopement. As for the townspeople — what 
 sticks in their gizzards is that Pierpoint is here 
 with her — and that the Baron is there without 
 her." 
 
 " All right," I snapped out, " then why the 
 devil don't Pierpoint go away ? " 
 
 Hector looked pained. " After the Baron's 
 arrival ? Do you think that would help 
 us?" 
 
 Of course it wouldn't. So then I attacked 
 him on the other side of the matter. How did 
 he know that she didn't want to go ? 
 
 He said that he didn't believe that. She 
 was too fond of his father, and too apt for 
 happiness here to give it up lightly. Besides 
 that, she was morbidly afraid of Broderode. 
 He was on her nerves. 
 
 I said, " Well — we won't argue about it. 
 We can't. But I seriously hope that you
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 224 
 
 won't let there be any constraint put upon 
 her. If you do that — if there is any sign of 
 that — I must go. Indeed, I must go pretty 
 soon, at all events. I am very little use to 
 you here. Don't, however, force me to go. 
 I'm entitled to say that." 
 
 He assured me earnestly that there would 
 be no compulsion. He said, " She had put 
 matters as right as they could be put, of her 
 own accord. They could be no more right if 
 she left us to-morrow. That being so, there 
 was no reason in the world why she should 
 distress herself." 
 
 We both looked round. She was returning 
 with her maid, and this time she saw us. She 
 didn't falter or turn aside, but she disengaged 
 her arm, and while Ethel Cook went on, 
 stayed to talk to us. " We have been down 
 by the river. It is so still that you can hear 
 the fishes' lips as they rise to the fly. And all 
 so beautiful — so beautiful — that it made me 
 cry. I would like to be as beautiful as a 
 summer night." 
 
 Hector said, " You are more beautiful than 
 that." She didn't rise to it. 
 
 " Ah, no, indeed. If I were you would all 
 be happy in this lovely place— and there would 
 be no terrible things between you. Oh, what
 
 225 HECTOR IN FORCE 
 
 can I do ? You have been so kind to me, I 
 feel that I must do something." 
 
 Hector said, " My dear, be kind to my 
 father, who loves you very much, and has 
 never had a daughter." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands ; I felt 
 that she was crying. We both stood still, not 
 daring to attempt consolation. 
 
 She mastered her passion and uncovered 
 her face, but she clasped her hands under her 
 chin. " He knows that I love him. If he 
 needs me I will stay with him. It is the least 
 I can do. What do I matter ? Is he there ? 
 I will go to him now." And she went lightly 
 and fleetly away.
 
 XYIII : THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 We rode up Glen Oran to the Clan meeting at 
 Broken Cross ; but a good deal happened 
 before that, enough to remind us that we were 
 really besieged. The rumours flying about the 
 town and countryside focused at last upon a 
 deputation. Before that there had been pul- 
 piteering at work. I don't know that the 
 Mallesons were prayed for by name, but that 
 they were obliquely prayed for I do happen to 
 know. Then there were two letters in the 
 local paper, one signed Ruat Caelum and another 
 Anxious Mother of Seven, which were guardedly 
 referred to in a leading article. The time was 
 coming on for the Gathering, and something 
 must be done. 
 
 So the deputation came, and I caught sight 
 of them from the terrace. Three black-coated 
 gentlemen, obviously clerical, and one tall and 
 lean man in riding-breeches and a checked cap. 
 The chief had been persuaded not to see them 
 — it was put to him on the score of his dignity ; 
 and it may even be that he guessed he would 
 
 226
 
 227 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 lose his temper. Anyhow he wasn't there, 
 and Hector saw them alone for about half an 
 hour. Everybody was very polite, he said, 
 and no names were named. Refreshments 
 were served, and they went away. He was 
 reticent about it, and I didn't press him ; but 
 I collected that the Annual Sports Meeting 
 would not be held in the Port Field as usual, 
 because, as I understood, the Deputation had 
 said that the Town would be unable to 
 support it, in view of public opinion. Here 
 was a definite Act of War, and the meeting of 
 the Clan at Broken Cross was to answer it. 
 
 The summons was sent round by night — 
 a picturesque ceremony. The messengers 
 gathered in front of the Castle. They all had 
 unlighted torches. Sir Roderick and his sons, 
 Helena with the ladies staying in the house, 
 and myself stood on the steps. The chief gave 
 out the message in Gaelic, which was received 
 with perfect silence. Then Hector produced a 
 lighted torch of resinous pine and stood at the 
 foot of the steps. The men came and lighted 
 their brands from his, and the whole forecourt 
 flared and gloomed as the lights wavered in 
 the night wind. 
 
 They turned to the terrace ; they sped 
 down the slopes — it was a strange and romantic
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 228 
 
 sight. We saw them dive down the steep 
 banks of Oran and ford the water, throwing 
 up into full vision as they did so the very 
 fronds of the fern on the farther shore, the 
 very stones and eddies of the swift river. 
 After that they separated, and we could watch, 
 as it were, meteor paths to all quarters of the 
 East, South and North, and see them rise and 
 pause, dip and pursue, wax and wane, accord- 
 ing as the boulder- strewn tracks held them. 
 Remote as I was by breeding and temper from 
 the Gael, one could not but be struck by the 
 intensity of their devotion to an idea. Sir 
 Roderick Malleson had little to do with it ; 
 Pierpoint and his unlawful practice less. It was 
 the Clan which these fleet and intent messengers 
 were serving, just as certainly as the Jacobite 
 rising of 1745 had not been for the worthless 
 rip Charles Edward, but for a much bigger 
 thing. 
 
 The meeting was for that day week, and in 
 the interval little or nothing happened. The 
 house settled itself to a new condition of things, 
 and outwardly with very little difference. 
 The young men shot and fished ; the women 
 talked and worked, if they did not accompany 
 the men. Pierpoint seemed to be taking his 
 rebuff quietly. It had sobered him down.
 
 229 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 There was nothing of Lovelace or Don Juan 
 Osorio about him now. He took his part 
 quietly, but efficiently, in the sporting exercise 
 which seemed to be our be-all there. 
 
 Helena and the old chief became inseparable. 
 She rarely left him for long, and I think never 
 unless she knew what he was doing or how he 
 was provided for. I had an idea that he was 
 her only justification for staying where she was. 
 I thought that, like nearly all of us, she had 
 juggled with her conscience, to keep it quiet. 
 It was as if she said, " I am naturally a pious 
 and good woman, who yielding to a sudden 
 fire of the mind have fallen into wrong-doing. 
 I have put away the wrong from me, and out 
 of it there has grown an innocent and honest 
 use to which I can devote what is still innocent 
 and honest in me. That is what I am doing 
 now. Consider that, Conscience, and let me 
 alone." 
 
 But if the chief was her strength, the Lord 
 knows she was his. He overflowed with affec- 
 tion for her. She was the darling of his heart, 
 the joy and pride of his eyes. I think it 
 would have gone hard with him if she had left 
 him just then. He was by no means a wise 
 man ; he was, in fact, a perfect child in his 
 passionate impulses and inconsiderate acts.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 230 
 
 But he had a great heart — and enshrined her 
 in the midst of it, and turned all the fire and 
 flood of it to her honour. An odd result of 
 this was that she became unapproachable by 
 all the younger men. She was set apart, as if 
 she was indeed their stepmother. She was 
 the centre of the house, the primum mobile. 
 It all radiated from her, and all flowed back 
 to her again. She wielded it unconsciously, 
 never made a mistake and had no enemies. 
 If Inveroran had lacked a daughter for fifteen 
 years, it took to the having one by instinct, 
 and turned to Helena as a new-born child 
 turns to the breast. 
 
 Hector loved her romantically, Wynyard 
 hungrily, Pat gaily, frankly rejoicing in her 
 beauty, grace and charm. Pierpoint, who 
 had conquered her, now that he could not wear 
 her in his cap, seemed not to love her at all. 
 She was quite at her ease with him, lectured 
 him about his domestic delinquencies, tried to 
 get him into activity again — she wanted him 
 to resume his soldiering, recommended the 
 Turkish service, and so on ; but she certainly 
 saw less of him than of the others, and I think 
 that was because he didn't care to see more 
 of her. It was more interesting to see her 
 with the silent, fierce-hearted Wynyard. Her
 
 231 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 power with him was marvellous. She alone 
 made him talk ; she alone, by a mere look of 
 those warm, grey eyes of hers could quench 
 the angry gleam in his. It must have been 
 hard work, continual sword-play on her part ; 
 a ceaseless watch, a ceaseless reminder that she 
 was not for him and yet all for him. She 
 could have loved him as he wanted, I don't 
 doubt. I don't doubt but he knew that. But 
 Wynyard was a good fellow, and she was a 
 good woman. She was a beautiful woman, 
 too — much more beautiful than I remembered 
 her when misery and boredom had made her 
 haggard. Her short diet of love had enriched 
 her ; as the poet said, it had 
 
 " Softened the lines of brow and breast " ; 
 
 but her beauty, soft and sumptuous as it was, 
 was spiritualized too. No Malleson, at any 
 rate, could have hinted a wrong to her now. 
 For them she v/^.s " enskied and sainted " — 
 and she had done it herself. Let that be 
 remembered to her credit. 
 
 She rode to the meeting beside Sir Roderick ; 
 she rode a milk-white pony, and had a dark- 
 green habit, with a blue scarf wound in and 
 about her black hair. All the Mallesons were
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 232 
 
 in full war-gear, of tartan and silver buttons, 
 and bonnets, each with its eagle's feather. 
 We wound our way up Glen Oran, and then 
 over a shoulder of Ben Mor, and along another 
 by a belt of pines, through which you could 
 see, far below, a feeder of the Oran like a silver 
 thread. There are still eagles to be seen in 
 those empty fastnesses of the red deer. There 
 was one high overhead when we came out of 
 the wood and saw the clansmen clustered on 
 the brow of a hill round about the shaft of 
 Broken Cross. The chief, who was very super- 
 stitious, threw up his hand when he saw the 
 bird, and halted us all to see which way he 
 would fly. He bore off in great easy circles to 
 the South by West, which was on our right as 
 we stood. When his course was certain — 
 after an intense few minutes of waiting — I 
 heard Wynyard breathe quickly through his 
 nose, and Sir Roderick say " Amen." He had 
 taken the right direction, then ! and we moved 
 on. It was pleasant to see how gravely 
 Hector lent himself to the augury, and with 
 what interest Helena herself flushed and paled 
 as she breathlessly watched. 
 
 We were met with a clamour of cheering, of 
 waving bonnets and strange cries which showed
 
 233 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 the spirit of the gathering. Men and boys were 
 there — few women, few girls. Fine, fiery enthu- 
 siastic faces, bright and keen blue eyes. I well 
 knew their merits, but had not been prepared 
 for such ardent support of a questionable cause. 
 Sir Roderick bared his head to the cheering, 
 but did not dismount. He sat his pony 
 throughout, and kept Helena by his side. In 
 fact, it was Hector alone who took the floor 
 on his own feet. He stood on the mound, 
 beside the broken shaft, and spoke to the 
 company in Gaelic. So far as I could judge — 
 though I have no idea what he said — he spoke 
 with perfect ease. He was certainly im- 
 passioned ; he fetched up deep murmurs of 
 assent, and at moments wild cries which 
 seemed to gratify the old chief. I saw him 
 turn his eyes full of proud tears on the beautiful 
 woman beside him, who sat her horse so well 
 and looked so calm and noble. At the close, 
 when Hector swept her into his speech with 
 an extended hand, a strange scene followed. 
 They came streaming up the hill and held out 
 hands, bonnets, crooks and staves to her. 
 They cried her, I believe, a daughter of the 
 Malleson nation. As many as could reach 
 shook her hand. And then Sir Roderick, 
 swelling with pride, stood up in his stirrups
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 234 
 
 and shrieked a few well-known words. They 
 were, no doubt, a slogan, or war-cry of the 
 clan. They were taken up with cheer after 
 cheer. The Mallesons were beset with their 
 kindred —Hector, dangerously flushed, quite 
 out of himself ; Wynyard burning bright ; 
 Pierpoint with his handsome head once more 
 erect and moved ; young Patrick wild as a 
 hawk : they could have led an army down 
 the glen if they had willed it, and cleared 
 out the town. Luckily the von Broderode 
 party did not show up that day, or there 
 would have been bloodshed. The pipers 
 struck up and marched round and round the 
 knoll at a quick step. We saw it out to the 
 end. 
 
 Going home, I asked Hector what he had 
 said to them to make them so wild. He 
 answered me that it had been nothing danger- 
 ous. He had reminded them of the Curse of 
 the Mallesons, he said, and told them how it 
 had been removed by the beautiful lady who 
 had devoted herself to the salvation of the 
 house. He asked them if they would see her 
 go back to slavery and misery ; he had pointed 
 their eyes to her tenderness for his father — he 
 had called on them to testify to their gratitude. 
 That was all.
 
 235 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 He hadn't mentioned the Baron and his 
 friends ! 
 
 Pat said to me, " How the old Baron would 
 have enjoyed that ! He would have been 
 excited ! " And then he said, as if meditating, 
 " I don't know — but I don't believe he's half 
 so bad as Hector makes out." 
 
 That was and had always been my own 
 opinion. 
 
 It was expected that when the Games were 
 held, as was intended, in the Castle policies, 
 there would be some definite expression of the 
 Town's feeling. It was expected that the 
 Baron's friends would appear and make a 
 demonstration. I don't know how the idea 
 arose ; but it pervaded the Castle and the 
 glens. What actually happened was, in its 
 way, much worse for the Trojans — I mean for 
 the Castle. 
 
 The Clan turned out in force, as you might 
 expect — though the absence of its women was 
 remarkable. The Castle was there, of course ; 
 but Helena was not. None of our ladies went, 
 in fact. 
 
 I have a suspicion that the chief was hurt 
 by that. He had got it firmly fixed in his old 
 headpiece that we were the injured party, and
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 236 
 
 was dreadfully apt to look upon that as dis- 
 loyalty which was only common reticence and 
 decency. As Pat said, " The pater pinches 
 himself in the door and thinks you an enemy 
 in disguise because you don't go about in a 
 finger-stall ! " I knew afterwards, as a matter 
 of fact, that they did witness our revels from 
 the bank of the river, where they were not 
 conspicuous to the revellers. 
 
 We revelled in the customary manner, with- 
 out the gaiety of the customary meetings. It 
 was less like an athletic gathering, and much 
 more Homeric in consequence. Pierpoint re- 
 covered some of his old prestige by winning 
 the hill-climbing contest in great style. Wyn- 
 yard tossed the caber and no one could come 
 near him. The rest of the competitions were 
 wisely allowed to the clansmen. In the midst 
 of the broadsword heats I saw the public 
 attention distracted, and looked in the direc- 
 tion of nearly all eyes but mine. The Baron 
 von Broderode upon a pony — quite unattended 
 — entered the grounds, and surveyed us all 
 from a small eminence. You never saw such 
 an effect as this produced. An electric thrill 
 seemed to pass from body to body. Sir 
 Roderick literally bristled. Hector stiffened 
 and stared at something else. The contestants
 
 237 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 hacked away for dear life, and, like everybody 
 else, pretended that they were interested in 
 what they were doing. Pat and I were sitting 
 together on a heather bed, and watched what 
 happened. We were both the least bit out of 
 touch with the meeting because of our Baronial 
 sympathies. Not that we didn't adore Helena 
 with everybody else ; but, as Pat said, we 
 could adore her just as much if the Baron was 
 in the house with her. 
 
 He was in no condition to be on horseback. 
 He poked his head, he swayed about. His 
 eyes were fixed. He was engaged in a frightful 
 struggle to be at ease. All at once the pony 
 stumbled, and he was off. Pat and I raced 
 to him, and lifted him. He was out of breath, 
 but not at all scared. " Brave fellows, brave 
 fellows ! " he said. " Lift me. I will go back as 
 I came. I am not at all hurt. It is a rule of the 
 game that you go on — ha ? Lift me to his back." 
 
 Well, we did. The meeting paused in its 
 breath to watch us. We got him back, though 
 he was like lead to lift. Directly he was there, 
 he was all there. His eyes laughed at us — 
 merry, saucy, bold and unconquerable. " If 
 all the English were like you," he said, " the 
 Austrians would never touch you. Have no 
 fear at all."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 238 
 
 Pat said that was all right. And was he hurt ? 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," he said. " It is a 
 rule of the game." I don't know what he 
 meant by that. 
 
 " Would you like us to go back with you ? " 
 we asked him. 
 
 " No," he said, " I stay here " — He was 
 very quick to notice things, He saw my face 
 fall — " unless you wish me to go ? " 
 
 I said, " Oh, I think you might go in this 
 instance." He laughed outright. 
 
 " That is all I want. Yes, yes. I will go. 
 What you say, I will be clear." He wouldn't 
 let us go down with him — No, no, all went well. 
 Never better. He waved his hand, and turned 
 the pony's head. 
 
 We watched him go. " By Jove," Pat said, 
 " he'll beat us. He's a Roman soldier." 
 
 What interested me was the flutter of dis- 
 tress from the bank. Helena in her white 
 dress and black sash, signalling with a handker- 
 chief — like Isolda. I went to her. She was 
 in a beautiful agony. 
 
 " Tell me, tell me. It is well ? " She 
 never named him if she could help it. 
 
 "Yes," I said. "He won't be helped. 
 He's as brave as he can be."
 
 239 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 She was half sobbing — " Oh, I know, I 
 know ! Oh, what shall I do ? Was — did you 
 see Teresa ? " 
 
 I said that there was no Teresa — but that 
 she was probably hovering somewhere. 
 
 Then she said, " You must go and inquire 
 -soon — soon. Promise me you will go." 
 
 I said, " Will you come with me ? " 
 
 She stopped. She looked down, blushing. 
 I do believe she wanted to go. " No," she 
 said, " I cannot go now. I must ask Sir 
 Roderick. He might be angry with me." 
 
 I said, " Oh, he would — " then I promised 
 that I would go, and left her. She dried her 
 eyes and turned to join the other ladies. Old 
 Laura Bacchus lost none of the play. I saw 
 Sir Roderick trotting over the sward to be 
 with her. It was pretty to see her upturned 
 face, and his down-turned. He patted her 
 cheek, and she stood by his knee meekly to 
 watch the games. 
 
 I judged my time, and when they were 
 busy over the prize-giving, which Helena 
 began to do very charmingly under the chief's 
 approving gaze, I went down into the town. 
 A few curious looks were cast at me, but of 
 course, I was comparatively speaking, a stranger
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 240 
 
 in Inveroran. Intercourse with the town had 
 never been the thing for the Castle people. 
 The painting at Rosemount seemed to be 
 finished, but no furnishing had been as yet 
 attempted. I went into the Marine Hotel 
 and asked for the Baron. A page-boy tiptoed 
 away, as if we were going to be shown the 
 San Graal, and I followed. He was bestowed 
 on the ground floor, I noticed. We passed his 
 bath-chair in the passage. 
 
 I found him in a window of ample bows, a 
 window which gave on to the garden and a 
 flagstaff, dressed for dinner and in the company 
 of his friends. He received me with a cheer. 
 " Ah, brava, brava ! " he said. " Here we 
 hef another Ambassador from the proud 
 enemy." He laughed away any possible enmity 
 there might be in his words. The room was 
 full of cigar-smoke, bottles of Rhenish were on 
 the table, long glasses, syphons and all such 
 gear. He introduced me to his friends in great 
 style. 
 
 " Become acquainted, if you please, with my 
 good friend Count Szombor Jelacics, and my 
 trusty and well-beloved cousin and councillor 
 the Freiherr von Ostensee — " and then he 
 rang out my name. 
 
 The tall and cavernous-eyed young man,
 
 241 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 the short and round-faced and very pink-and- 
 flaxen young man bowed from the hips. But 
 the Baron went on — " And permit me to 
 introduce to you also my young and sympa- 
 thetic friend Mr. Patrick Malleson." He rolled 
 out this name with a mighty gusto — and then 
 
 I saw Master Pat's grin hover through the 
 murky air. 
 
 " Don't play the Cheshire Cat at me, man," 
 I said. " I didn't guess you were here." 
 
 The Baron stretched out a benevolent hand 
 and took Pat's arm. " He came because he 
 was a good fellow," he said. " He knows 
 that I am not a bad one. And you also " — 
 this to me — " I will be glad of, if you will 
 allow me. Now you will smoke with us ? 
 You will drink with us ? Pray help yourself. 
 My friend Patrick has the strong waters of 
 his country. You will have the same ? Very 
 good — as you please. But if I were to drink 
 that whisky of yours, in two weeks I should 
 be dead, and the flag at Rosemount halfway 
 down the pole." 
 
 In this way he began, and continued to 
 rattle on, drinking in volumes of cigar-smoke 
 with the deepest contentment. You would 
 have said that he hadn't a care in the world. 
 I was, myself, in a conflict all the time, of 
 
 Q
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 242 
 
 admiration and pity ; for it was impossible 
 not to see the ravages which illness had made 
 upon him. He was yielding, he was bound to 
 yield ; but he fought every inch of the way. 
 It would kill him — but all his wounds would 
 be in front. 
 
 While Pat was explaining with infinite 
 patience and lost effort the merits of the game 
 of golf to the Freiherr von Ostensee — who 
 received them with a deferential scepticism 
 delightful to witness, I took the opportunity to 
 say to von Broderode that I was indeed an 
 ambassador, as he had suggested at a venture. 
 He heard me with raised eyebrows and twink- 
 ling eyes. He heard me, he nodded his head 
 many times, and ended with a great shrug. 
 
 " My dear sir," he said at last, " if I do not 
 understand women, be sure of one of two 
 things: either I am the greatest fool in the 
 world, or nobody understands them. Not 
 only do I accept your word — that is of course 
 — but I am prepared to understand your word. 
 When women act from the heart they never 
 go wrong. When they act from the head they 
 always do, because they think of so many 
 things at once. Now men — and you will allow 
 me to call myself a man — think of only one 
 thing at a time. And they think with head
 
 243 THE BATTLE SWAYS 
 
 and heart together. And they have a will- 
 power which is the servant of both. Not so 
 with women. Their will-power is only at the 
 service of the heart. Unless they are mad ! 
 And my wife is not mad. Not at all — not at 
 all. She is a woman through and through." 
 
 I thought that he was right, though I said 
 nothing. He ended up in this fashion, and 
 with a request : 
 
 " Your friend Hector is a dangerous man, 
 because he is a man-and-woman. It is so. 
 He is hermaphrodite. With the heart of a 
 woman and the brain of a man, he has the will- 
 power added, of a man-woman. His will- 
 power is at service of heart or brain. He puts 
 it here to the work of both. He will fail — 
 but he does not know it. He does not intend 
 to fail. Now do me the kindness to bring 
 him here. To-morrow my friends will be gone. 
 There is nothing for them to do here. I do 
 not need them. I am sufficient. They are 
 good fellows — I like them ; t at they want to 
 fight with your men — and that is absurd. 
 Your red Wynyard would smash them both 
 like oxen. And then he would be trans- 
 ported or hanged. What good is that to me ? 
 No ! I send them away to-morrow in the 
 Coryphaeus, and I stay here for Rosemount
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 244 
 
 to be ready. Already the furniture is on the 
 way. In a week, two weeks, I shall be happy 
 to see you there. We will play piquet together 
 — and talk of politics and history. But bring 
 the hermaphrodite, the dangerous man. Oblige 
 
 me." 
 
 I got up and shook hands. Pat came with 
 me. As we went up the hill he said, " We 
 shall be called traitors. The pater will be 
 very sick." 
 
 " I was sent down," I told him. He looked 
 grave. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it ? I suspected as much." 
 Then he said, " Poor old pater ! "
 
 XIX : THE AMAZEMENT OF 
 HECTOR 
 
 We were late home, with barely time to 
 dress ; but she lay in wait for me and caught 
 me just as I was about to clear the steps. 
 She came out of the little ante-room, dressed 
 in gauzy black — which made her look her 
 favourite part of the moon clear of clouds. 
 A soft and yet keen persistence in her manner 
 heightened the comparison. She was remote, 
 she was cold ; yet she was searching. 
 
 " Well," she said, " so you went down ? 
 And what do you bring back ? " 
 
 " He was glad to see me. He called me 
 Ambassador — Ambassador from the proud 
 enemy." 
 
 Her eyes fell. She seemed to be looking 
 at her own fairness. " I am not proud," 
 she said. 
 
 " You would have excuse if you were," 
 I said. She looked out into the dusk. 
 
 " I am not at all proud. I am very much 
 distracted." 
 
 245
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 246 
 
 " The Baron wants to see Hector," I told 
 her. 
 
 She opened her eyes. " Hector ? Why 
 Hector ? " 
 
 I said, " Well, Hector is not head of the 
 house, of course ; but I suppose he could 
 not expect the chief to go." 
 
 She shivered. " Oh, no. Sir Roderick 
 would not go." 
 
 I said, " Will you ask Hector to go ? " 
 She thought that over. 
 
 Presently she said, " No — I cannot. Shall 
 you ask him ? " 
 
 Do you mean ' Will I ask him ? ' " 
 I wondered whether you would. I won- 
 dered what you thought," she said, avoiding 
 my question. 
 
 I said, " I'll ask him, if you wish it ? " 
 
 Her words almost caressed me. " I think 
 you know best. I think you will do what is 
 best." 
 
 I excused myself then. " I really must 
 go and dress. I'm in hot water as it is, I 
 don't doubt. If I'm late as well as a traitor, 
 I shall be boiled before I've done." 
 
 She said gently, " You are not a traitor. 
 You are kind. You wish to do the best 
 thing.' 
 
 it 
 
 5>
 
 247 AMAZEMENT OF HECTOR 
 
 " So do you," I said. " I know it." Her 
 eyes appealed ; a sad smile faltered about 
 her parted lips. It was like sunshine in late 
 autumn, pale and flickering, soon gone. And 
 then I left her. 
 
 Sir Roderick made no inquiries after his 
 enemy ; but Wynyard asked me how he 
 was. 
 
 " I'm glad you went," he said, when I had 
 told him about the Baron's gallantry. " I 
 should have gone myself if you hadn't." 
 
 " I'm glad you didn't," I said. " He has 
 a hairy friend who wants to fight you." 
 
 Wynyard said, " That's rot, of course." 
 
 " No," I said, " he means it." 
 
 Wynyard said, He had better wait till there 
 was something to fight about, because when 
 that occurred there would be nobody here 
 to fight with. That was the nearest Wynyard 
 ever went to admitting that it would be good 
 to run away with Helena. I am sure that 
 he had never hinted at such a thing to herself. 
 But I daresay that she knew all about it, 
 all the same. 
 
 Hector agreed to see the Baron. He made 
 no difficulty about it. " I am perfectly will- 
 ing to see him, but I hope he understands
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 248 
 
 that I don't desire it. I shan't conceal my 
 opinion of his conduct, of course." 
 
 " I expect that he has his own ideas about 
 that," I said, " and honestly, my dear chap, 
 you'll find him a hard nut to crack." 
 
 He gloomily accepted that. 
 
 I thought I had better say one thing more. 
 " His case is that, between you, you have 
 induced his wife to desert him. His strong 
 impression is that it was you who did it." 
 
 " He's wrong," Hector said. " I am very 
 glad that she did it, but it wasn't my doing." 
 
 " My dear man ! " I said. " You fell in 
 love with her at Gironeggio." 
 
 " I did. Immediately." 
 
 " And she knew that." 
 
 " Probably." 
 
 " That made her dissatisfied with her lot." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " said Hector, " if it 
 did that it was worth it." 
 
 " Then she came here, and you all fell in 
 love with her." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Then you brought her back here." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " That's the Baron's case," I said. 
 
 He replied stiffly to that, that the Baron 
 had a good advocate. I was unable to deny
 
 249 AMAZEMENT OF HECTOR 
 
 that I was, at the moment, very much on his 
 side — though when we went after the others 
 into the drawing-room, and I saw her the 
 centre of a pretty group about the fire, I 
 confess that my heart was open to the pity 
 of it. They were so unfeignedly happy, there 
 was such a cosy look about them. Here was 
 the very emblem of home. Old Sir Roderick 
 sat in his elbow-chair, his fist supporting his 
 head. The other hand was on Helena's hair. 
 She sat on a stool below him and was reading 
 to him in a low voice. Near her Pat lay 
 back in an easy-chair. His hands were clasped 
 behind his head, his eyes were fixed on the 
 ceiling. He made a long straight line from 
 his chin to his toes. He listened, he smiled. 
 Pierpoint was watching her from the other 
 corner. Wynyard, as usual, stood to listen. 
 He was like the sentinel flamingo, watchful, 
 on one leg, while the others feed on the sea- 
 flats. Miss Bacchus was playing patience by 
 herself, but with a caustic comment now and 
 then for what she overheard. " Silly ass ! 
 What on earth did he do that for ? " I heard 
 as I shut the door. The book was " The 
 Earthly Paradise," and the tale concerned 
 Gudrun and her criss-cross love-affairs. It 
 was a pretty group, and as snug as Christmas.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 250 
 
 I thought of the Baron, with his liqueur and 
 his cigar, his avid, wayward hands and his 
 daring blue eyes. I thought of her alone 
 with him, without an intimate word to say. 
 I saw what Hector had seen at once with his 
 diviner's eye and his tentacles at work. I 
 said to myself, " You pretty, gentle creature, 
 what mercy did they show you who taught 
 you their comforts ? " And at the moment 
 I felt that if anything could be done to save 
 her from her portion I could do it. 
 
 Hector and I went down to see the Baron. 
 It was a fine afternoon, and he received us 
 in the garden of the hotel. The moment 
 we appeared he waved his hand to me. Then 
 he took off his Homburg hat. That wcs for 
 Hector's benefit. He did not offer to shake 
 hands ; but that was the only sign of enmity 
 he showed. Hector was very stiff and solemn, 
 which I thought was a pity. The Baron 
 was perfectly at ease. 
 
 He began : "I have wished to see you 
 because I have something to say to you. I 
 should have written to you myself ; I should 
 have said, My dear sir, come and see me ! 
 We will have a few words together in private. 
 It would have been better in private — what
 
 251 AMAZEMENT OF HECTOR 
 
 I have to say. For me, I don't mind ; but 
 for you it would be better. . . . 
 
 " But you would not have come. You 
 have your own idea of me. You think I 
 am a savage. You think I tear and mangle. 
 You would say to yourself, I will have no 
 dealings with the wicked. So you shall hear 
 what I have to say in the presence of your 
 friend. . . . 
 
 "It is not the first time that your nation 
 goes to work teaching people their own busi- 
 ness. You see me at Gironeggio. You say, 
 Here is a wicked man. His hand shakes ; 
 he is not like me. He smokes many cigars ; 
 I don't like cigars. He enjoys himself : that 
 is bad. You see my wife ; you like her. 
 You say, She is a beautiful woman. I could 
 make her happy — she would be happy with 
 me. To see her with that old savage makes 
 me unhappy. Therefore, you say, it makes 
 her also unhappy. Then you make her 
 acquaintance and you tell her how unhappy 
 she is. That is why I call you the dangerous 
 man. You are dangerous because you see 
 what you think you see, and you teach other 
 people your disastrous wisdom ! . . . 
 
 " You see only yourself, my dear sir. That 
 is your little mistake. In my wife you see
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 252 
 
 yourself unhappy. In myself you see yourself 
 a fool. You think me a fool, but I am not 
 at all a fool. I am a sensible man because 
 I know what I want." 
 
 He sat there rosy and twinkling, a spectacle 
 of weather-worn strength, his terrible hands 
 flickering as he held cigar and match. He 
 bent his head forward and looked out over 
 his gold-rimmed glasses, as he said these 
 words : "I shall win in the end, you will see, 
 because I have nothing else to do. I shall 
 get what I want. It is my career. I am not 
 likely to make a mess of that. You have 
 youth and good health and your family behind 
 you to make you strong. But I, my good 
 sir, have ennui. I must beat that or it will 
 kill me. And I do not intend to die. Do 
 you not see that ? " 
 
 I knew he was speaking the truth. To 
 my mind he was unanswerable, and it is the 
 fact that Hector had no answer for him. 
 He sat stiff in his chair for a little time. Then 
 he got up, murmured a few inaudible words, 
 and went out. 
 
 There was nothing for me to do but follow 
 him. 
 
 He was silent for the length of our walk
 
 253 AMAZEMENT OF HECTOR 
 
 up the main street. When we got within 
 sight of the gates he stopped. 
 
 He lifted his head. " I shall fight him," 
 he said. " If I die for it I'll fight him. For 
 it comes to this, that a man can possess a 
 woman's body and soul if he is only cruel 
 enough. If I took Helena away and made 
 myself master of her I should beat him. It 
 is because I will not degrade her in the eyes 
 of the world that he beats me. But he shall 
 not. I'll fight him for her." 
 
 I saw that he was very much moved, and 
 did not care to argue with him. What I did 
 say was that the thing ought to be put squarely 
 before her. It was a case for a woman, I 
 said. Let Laura Bacchus have it out with 
 her. Put her to work. He pished, and said, 
 " Damn Laura Bacchus." 
 
 But I was nearly right. It was a case for 
 a woman ; but Laura Bacchus was not she.
 
 XX : PIERPOINT 
 
 I had had my eye on Pierpoint for some time. 
 Love was awake and walking in his breast again. 
 He was like Hector in that, that he was always 
 in love with somebody ; but unlike him in that 
 his love couldn't live on air. He must re- 
 assure himself with testimonies ; he must wear 
 a gage. 
 
 I watched him, not without amusement, to 
 see how wary he was. He had need to be, for 
 Wynyard was mortally jealous of him. Those 
 two never spoke to each other by any chance. 
 At the best of times they had had little to say 
 to each other ; but since Helena had been here 
 the same room could hardly contain them. 
 
 There were few, if any, overt acts. I guessed 
 at what was going on by the recrudescence of 
 the conquering hero about Pierpoint. His 
 moustaches took an upward twist ; his clothes 
 were more soignes, his neckties, the tops of his 
 stockings were more carefully contrasted. He 
 talked to Helena again — upon carefully im- 
 personal topics, but if you were interested 
 
 254
 
 255 PIERPOINT 
 
 enough to be careful you could detect a stream 
 of tendency, an implication. Sometimes there 
 was a complete double sense to what he said, 
 to which, when once you got a clue, you must 
 needs devote yourself body and soul. And 
 he did it pretty well. I fancy he was enor- 
 mously pleased with himself. He flattered him- 
 self that Helena was completely instructed, 
 and Wynyard completely in the dark ; where- 
 as I am sure that it was just the other way. 
 Helena was a fairly simple character — as simple 
 as a thoroughly pretty and thoroughly petted 
 woman can be. She was, of course, petted all 
 round, and she loved it ; but she took it quite 
 innocently. I don't believe she wanted to 
 marry any of those chaps, though at the same 
 time I believe that she would have married 
 any one of them who asked her — except Hector. 
 She was rather afraid of Hector. His ideas of 
 love were too fearful and wonderful for her. 
 While they were new they would have depressed 
 her, when they were familiar they would have 
 bored her. I think she saw all that from the 
 beginning. But any one of the others would 
 have done. She didn't want anything of a 
 husband but petting ; and as she was being 
 petted to her heart's content at this time she 
 didn't want a husband at all.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 256 
 
 But Wynyard was altogether different. He 
 wanted her dreadfully. This need had changed 
 the whole habit of the man. It had made him 
 morbidly suspicious, morbidly acute. His pas- 
 sion was driven inwards, it had to feed upon 
 his own vital juices. He had never been a 
 communicative man. He was only really open 
 with his dog, and with the wild creatures which 
 he pursued so remorselessly and killed with 
 such art. I could very well imagine him telling 
 the spirits of the wind and the rain of his hope- 
 less trouble and his infinite desires. They were 
 infinite because Helena could never have given 
 him all he wanted ; they were hopeless because 
 he knew it. But she drew him in and in, he 
 flickered and flacked about her pale flame. 
 He was scorched and maimed but he stayed on. 
 The one immediate resource he had — and that 
 was a savage one — was in watching his brother 
 Pierpoint. He hated him ; and Pierpoint 
 seemed to know it and to snatch a fearful joy 
 in out watching and outmarching him. 
 
 Laura Bacchus was convinced that there 
 would be bloodshed. She said that she couldn't 
 rest in her bed until she knew that these two 
 were safely in theirs. Almost every night, 
 she told me, she crept out into the corridor, 
 flitted along it and stole upstairs to the next —
 
 257 PIERPOINT 
 
 to listen. She used to carry her candle, and 
 when it showed up Vixen's green eyes, she knew 
 the bitch was on her master's doormat, and 
 that all was well. That's what she told me, 
 after the event. For there was an event, and 
 it came suddenly, and soon. 
 
 I don't know whether it was a week, or more, 
 or less, after Hector's and my visit to the Baron. 
 More than a week, I think, because Rosemount 
 was furnished, and the Baron installed when 
 next we saw him. He had been at one of his 
 bow windows, and waved his cigar-hand to us 
 as we passed. Some people had come to stay 
 at the Castle — Mrs. Muir and her two girls, 
 Elspeth and Grizel, were there on their way 
 further North; and a young friend of Pat's, 
 a nice boy called Chesil worth. They were very 
 good for us, made us brisker, and gave the 
 servants more to do. We used to dance in 
 the evenings ; and this gave Pierpoint his 
 chance, and made Hector sad, and Wynyard 
 furious. Neither of those two were dancers. 
 
 Pierpoint, having done his duty by the Muir 
 girls — with a dance apiece — spent, and pro- 
 posed to go on spending, the rest of this oppor- 
 tunity with Helena. He was a wonderful 
 dancer, and naturally she liked it. The first 
 
 R
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 258 
 
 night Wynyard stood it ; the second night he 
 got through a bit of it, but then disappeared, 
 and no one knew where he was. The third 
 night there was no dancing at the house, be- 
 cause we all went down to dine upon a cruiser 
 that had come into the bay. We dined and 
 danced there, and Wynyard could stand that 
 because Pierpoint was one of many, and of 
 very little account at that. Helena, with a 
 capricious twist to her head, chose to dance 
 hardly at all that night. She stood mostly by 
 the chief, and danced square dances with the 
 Captain and the Commander. Indeed, poor 
 Wynyard got a bit of an innings, for one of the 
 lieutenants was a friend of his, and was pre- 
 sented by him to Helena. The three of them 
 sat out for a dance or two, which must have 
 been very jolly for the lieutenant, I should say. 
 However, he was a good sort. 
 
 The next night there was trouble. Pierpoint 
 himself urged for dancing, and got it. This 
 time Wynyard went out on to the terrace and 
 padded up and down like a native with the 
 toothache. After a time I joined him and we 
 paced up and down together under the stars 
 of one of the most beautiful September nights 
 I ever remember. 
 
 I don't know how long we had been there
 
 259 PIERPOINT 
 
 when we saw a white dress glimmering away 
 from us. I didn't need the quick short gasp 
 from Wynyard to know who it was. It was 
 Helena, of course. She had slipped out 
 through the little side door which gives from 
 the ante-room on to the terrace. She was alone 
 as we saw ; but she was not to be alone for 
 long. Wynyard left me to go after her, and 
 had just reached the door from which she had 
 come when that opened again and Pierpoint 
 blundered out almost upon his brother. 
 
 Wynyard turned, and they stood facing each 
 other. Neither of them spoke for quite a 
 perceptible time. 
 
 Then Pierpoint said " Where's Helena ? " 
 
 Wynyard — I could hear his pumps at work — 
 answered, " She's in the garden." 
 
 "Oh," said Pierpoint, "that's all right," 
 and made a move. 
 
 Wynyard said, " Stay where you are." 
 
 Pierpoint had no answer at the moment ; 
 then said breathlessly, " What on earth do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " What I say," Wynyard replied. " You 
 will stay where you are, or go in." 
 
 " It's not for you to tell me where I'm to go." 
 
 " In this case it is." 
 
 A third figure came to the door and stood in
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 260 
 
 the light of it. It was Ethel Cook, with a 
 silvery cloak for Helena. 
 
 "Go back with your wife, you dog," said 
 Wynyard ; and left him facing the girl. 
 
 She shuddered and shrank against the door 
 as if some one was going to hit her. I saw her 
 mouth open. Her eyes were hidden in the 
 shadow of their own brows. " I never told 
 him — I swear I didn't," she said in short 
 gasping breaths. But he left her and walked 
 past me to the other side of the house. She 
 stood looking out into the dark. Her mouth 
 was still open. I thought she was going to 
 faint, and went to her. 
 
 " Ethel," I said, " I heard all this, and am 
 awfully sorry for you." 
 
 She was struggling with her tears. " I 
 didn't tell him — I never told a soul," was all 
 she could say. 
 
 " No, no," I said. " I'm sure you didn't. 
 Nobody thinks you have done anything wrong. 
 Nobody who knows you would think so." 
 
 She had now covered her face in her hands 
 and was crying. " He made me do it — because 
 I wouldn't — because I couldn't " 
 
 " Don't tell me," I said. " I don't want to 
 know. But if you take my advice, you'll tell 
 the Baroness. That will be the best thing in
 
 261 PIERPOINT 
 
 the world." She listened, though she went on 
 crying. I went at her again. 
 
 " The Baroness is very fond of you. She 
 knows what you are thought about up here. 
 She has troubles of her own, as you and I know. 
 Well, if you tell her your story, you'll help her 
 as much as she'll help you. So do you take 
 my advice, and when she goes upstairs, tell 
 her all about it. You needn't be afraid of Mr. 
 Wynyard. He won't tell her. I'll answer for 
 that." 
 
 She had stopped crying. She was thinking. 
 Then she said, " I never told anybody because 
 I didn't want to make mischief. I'd have put 
 up with almost anything. I have put up with a 
 good deal — but I couldn't hurt Sir Roderick — 
 not if I was driven out." 
 
 " You won't hurt Sir Roderick by telling 
 the Baroness. I promise you that," I said. 
 
 "No," said Ethel. "I know that. He'll 
 take almost anything from her." I could see 
 that she was convinced. Presently she thanked 
 me and said so. 
 
 " It's bound to come out now," she said, 
 " whatever I do. And I'd rather tell her 
 myself than have anybody tell against me." 
 Then she thanked me and went away. Helena 
 had no cloak that night, and no cavalier.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 262 
 
 I went into the smoking-room and got myself 
 a whisky-and-soda. The two boys came in, 
 Wynyard and Hector together, then Sir Rode- 
 rick for his customary dram and a pipe. I had 
 plenty to think about, and as there were plenty 
 of them, I had no need to talk. I don't think 
 that I was astonished at what I had heard, 
 because Pierpoint was Pierpoint. He wasn't 
 the sort to stick at a wedding if he couldn't get 
 what he wanted any other way. And he would 
 always think that he would never want to do it 
 again. With your genuine amorist every affair 
 is for good and all. And, as he figured it all 
 out, I've no doubt he thought a secret marriage, 
 with stolen meetings, stolen confidences, stolen 
 pledges of troth — would be a very romantic 
 affair. As, no doubt, it was — for him. But 
 the girl herself made me wonder : how on earth 
 she had seen what she had seen and kept her 
 patience and her nerve — that beat me. What 
 a fine pride to her ! What a dignity ! Nothing 
 asked, yet nothing refused. No hope, yet no 
 despair. And no illusion after the first week. 
 How could there have been ? No, she must 
 have said to herself, Men are made so, and 
 women have to give way to them. She must 
 have had a certain scorn of her scampish 
 husband too. I could imagine that short upper
 
 263 P I E R P O I N T 
 
 lip of hers curving to her fine nose as she 
 considered him and caught sight from an upper 
 window — her duster in hand — of his goings-on 
 with fair lady visitors. Yet she was never 
 tempted to shatter his bubbles for him ! 
 Never itched to put a hand on his shoulder 
 as he stooped to whisper or entreat — or to shake 
 him with a "Come to me, husband !" No, no. 
 Men were made so, and women must give them 
 their heads. Oh, proud and patient Ethel 
 Cook! 
 
 One by one they went to bed, but Wynyard 
 remained. He pulled at his pipe for a while, 
 meditating. He was quieter than he had been 
 for some days. 
 
 Presently he stirred, and gave me a steady 
 look. " It came out of me directly I saw her 
 coming," he said. " I was savage and let out. 
 I'm not sorry, except for Ethel. I don't think 
 I ought to have done it — but I let out. I shall 
 go on now I've begun with it. She's a good 
 girl. He shall do the square thing by her 
 now." 
 
 " You needn't say anything just yet," I said. 
 " Leave her alone for a bit. She's telling 
 Helena about it. I advised her to." 
 
 He stared ; then showed relief. " Oh, I'm 
 glad of that. You were perfectly right. That's
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 264 
 
 the best thing she can do. Helena will be kind 
 to her." 
 
 " Yes, I know." I agreed with that ; but 
 then I warned him that it would react on 
 Helena. 
 
 " Not a doubt of it," he said. " That black- 
 guard has been making love to her again. 
 When I was out in Vienna I warned him." 
 
 " Oh, that was what you did ! You let him 
 know what you knew ? " I said. 
 
 Wynyard nodded. 
 
 " He knew then. I was bound to stop him. 
 And I did. He kept himself in hand after that. 
 He has behaved decently here until lately." 
 
 I asked him how he had found out, and he 
 said it was in a very curious way. Five years 
 ago he had been in Berwick for a night on his 
 
 way to fish with the G s at Coldstream. 
 
 A man — a clergyman, in fact — had come up 
 behind him where he was standing in front of 
 a shop window with a " Good evening, Mr. 
 Hammond," and when he turned about, still 
 held out a hand. Wynyard had denied the 
 name, but the man, though more doubtfully, 
 held on to it. " Surely I'm not mistaken," he 
 said. " Surely I married you this time last 
 year ? " Wynyard said, " Indeed, he did not " ; 
 and the clergyman said, " Well, if it was not
 
 265 PIERPOINT 
 
 you it was your brother." He admitted that 
 the facial likeness was not extraordinary ; but 
 from behind, he said, he would have sworn to 
 it. Wynyard asked, ''Whom did his brother 
 marry ? " And the man replied at once, " a 
 Miss Ethel Cook, a handsome young lady." 
 " Then," said Wynyard, " I thought it was 
 worth looking into. He showed me the Reg- 
 ister. Philip Hammond, in the fellow's own 
 handwriting, and Ethel Cook. By special 
 licence too. Six years ago this August." 
 
 " And you kept it to yourself ? " I asked 
 him. 
 
 " I did," said Wynyard. " We never loved 
 each other, but it was no business of mine." 
 
 " What do you suppose he'll do now ? W T ill 
 he face it out ? " 
 
 Wynyard thought not. " He wouldn't do 
 that. There'd be no fun in it, you see. And 
 again, there'd be no fun out of it. He likes a 
 cake in the cupboard, but he wants any amount 
 on the table too. I think he'll go abroad." 
 
 " And let her rip ? " 
 
 " Yes. He'll be pretty sure my father will 
 get to know about it. He'll argue it out with 
 himself. He might send for her in a few years' 
 time, when he's had his whack." 
 
 " Do you think she'd go ? "
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 266 
 
 " You can't tell. At least I can't. I don't 
 know anything about women." 
 
 " The chief will hear of it, no doubt," I said. 
 
 He thought so. But it wouldn't be from 
 him, he said. 
 
 

 
 XXI : SURRENDER 
 
 The man who put out my things said to me 
 as he was going out of the door, " The Baroness's 
 compliments, sir, and she would be glad if 
 she could see you for a moment before break- 
 fast. She will be in the morning-room." 
 
 There she was, when I came to look for 
 her, dressed in black, with a red rose in her 
 belt, and another in her hand for the chief. 
 She was pale, but quite composed. 
 
 She thanked me for sending Ethel to her. 
 She said it was a great compliment. There 
 was nothing she loved more than being useful. 
 
 " I am sure that you were useful to Ethel," 
 I said. 
 
 " Yes, I hope so. I kept her with me all 
 night. We were useful to each other. I 
 suppose you know — I suppose you understand 
 that this is a great shock to me." 
 
 I said, "No doubt." And there could be no 
 doubt at all. Had she applied the balms of 
 Araby to her unguarded lips ? But if I 
 gathered aright there had been more than 
 
 267
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 268 
 
 a kiss or two. Wynyard would not have put 
 the screw on unless there had been urgent 
 need for it. Pierpoint had beset her, seriously. 
 She only knew how much need there had been 
 for them, when Wynyard brought up his 
 reserves. All this must have been terrible 
 to the poor lady. Nothing brings a conscience 
 so sharply to the ache as the conviction that 
 one has been fool as well as rogue. 
 
 I could see that she was, indeed, sore all 
 over. She said sharply and stiffly, too, " Of 
 course there is only one thing for me to do." 
 
 " Oh, no," I put in, " there are lots of 
 things for people like you to do." 
 
 She stopped, and recovered herself. " What 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 I said, " You see, you have the poor girl 
 to comfort. She must be put right with the 
 world and herself. Nobody but you can do 
 that. Nobody here, at least, has such tactful 
 fingers. Do you want her to weep out her 
 troubles on the cook's bosom ? Or Miss 
 Bacchus's ? " 
 
 That steadied her. She softened imme- 
 diately. " I will do everything for her," 
 she said. " Indeed, we have talked of that. 
 She wishes to leave. She has asked to come 
 with me. I hope she will."
 
 269 SURRENDER 
 
 I said, " I don't think Sir Roderick will 
 like that. He will want to be told the reason." 
 
 She looked down. " No," she said, " he 
 won't. If I go, he'll be glad for her to be 
 with me." Of course she was right. Ethel 
 would be a hostage. 
 
 She then told me that she should go back 
 to the Baron to-day or to-morrow. The Muirs 
 were leaving to-day. It would be to-morrow 
 then. That would give him twenty-four hours' 
 notice. 
 
 I said something — I don't know what — 
 about the distress of Inveroran. She said 
 that she knew that. " They love me, and I 
 love them. They will be unhappy, and so 
 shall I. But I have done wrong. I didn't 
 know it because I was too happy. Now I 
 know it and am not happy at all. You think 
 me wicked " 
 
 I protested to Heaven. " You do not, 
 because you are kind, or because you under- 
 stand. Well, I won't be wicked any more. 
 It is a great pity that one can't be happy 
 if one is good." Then she held out her hand 
 to me. She was an innocent, tender creature. 
 I was very much in love with her myself. 
 
 At breakfast, Sir Roderick asked where 
 Pierpoint was, but got no answer until Hector
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 270 
 
 came down, rather late. He had a note in 
 his hand which he took over to his father. 
 He stood by him while he read it. Pierpoint 
 said that he had gone South, and wanted 
 his servant to bring him his things. He was 
 sorry he hadn't had time to say good-bye. 
 He would write to his father from London. 
 
 Those who were surprised and those who 
 were not surprised didn't show any sign of 
 disturbance. Patrick said he had missed the 
 first decent fishing day we had had. It was 
 true that yesterday's rain had been followed 
 by a frosty night. There would be sea- trout 
 for the asking. 
 
 But Sir Roderick was annoyed. He frowned, 
 fiddling the note in his hands. 
 
 " He suits himself — he may do as he pleases. 
 I consider it a want of respect to the lady of 
 the house. That's all I have to say." He 
 frowned as he spoke in Helena's direction. 
 She blushed gratefully, and beamed her thanks 
 and deprecation at once. It made her job 
 no easier, lady of the house for twenty-four 
 hours longer. 
 
 By lunch-time, when the Muirs were off, 
 everybody concerned knew that Helena was 
 going except the chief. She chose her own 
 time for telling him. He had his siesta in
 
 271 SURRENDER 
 
 peace, anyhow. Wynyard carried off his per- 
 sonal woes to Oran side, and made the sea- 
 trout smart for it. Goodly hecatombs of 
 them were offered up. He didn't appear 
 until dinner-time. Pat went fishing, too. He 
 said, " Frightful score for the Baron, I must 
 say. I don't see why we shouldn't take our 
 licking in real style and ask him here. I 
 believe he'd come, too." 
 
 I said, " I believe he would if you asked 
 him, Pat." Pat said that he'd do it for 
 twopence. Then he said that he thought he 
 should clear out in the course of the day. 
 " We shall have an awfully wet night of it 
 if we don't look out." 
 
 Miss Bacchus, I believe, when she was told, 
 said, " Well, my dear soul, what else could 
 you do ? " or words to that effect. She was 
 arguing from a priori grounds, I suppose, 
 for it is unlikely that Helena confided Ethel 
 Cook's scrape to her vigorous treatment. But 
 certainly Miss Bacchus put two and two 
 together, for she said to me in her caustic 
 way, " I suppose the sweet tooth bit on a 
 peach-stone. That hurts." Then she said 
 sharply, " Do you think he's gone to London ? " 
 
 " Who ? Pierpoint ? " I parried her. " Oh, 
 why not ? "
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 272 
 
 tt 
 
 It's a long way to throw a peach-stone," 
 said Miss Bacchus. " It must have hurt." 
 
 The Baron, like the gentleman he was, 
 replied to Helena's intimation of surrender 
 that he would meet her at Euston, naming the 
 train. He must also have told her the name 
 of his hotel, as afterwards appeared. This 
 was letting Sir Roderick down gently, but it 
 involved an early departure for Helena on 
 the morrow. She was a long time closeted 
 with the old chief, telling him her story. 
 They came into the hall together when tea 
 was there. He looked very sick, indeed, but 
 made the best of it. Many an anxious glance 
 passed from her towards him, and he reassured 
 her with smiling eyes whenever he caught 
 the beam of hers. You never know what 
 women feel about these things. They have 
 so much more self-possession. Hector, of 
 course, was told, and had his half-hour of 
 consolation. Wynyard was prepared, natu- 
 rally, but I suppose she gave him something. 
 It was astonishing to me how she managed 
 all those men. 
 
 We all had our work cut out for us that 
 last night of her escapade ; but it went off 
 pretty well. There was no reading. Pat and
 
 273 SURRENDER 
 
 his friend made us all play pool. After that 
 we had billiard-table cricket, and the boys 
 got excited and made a noise. She went 
 round and said her good-byes. She would 
 go very early in the morning, and nobody 
 was to get up except Hector. 
 
 So she went about and got through with 
 it. Miss Bacchus had a kiss on each cheek, 
 Pat had a kiss and gave one ; Hector would 
 be seen later. Wynyard put his hand on her 
 shoulder and said, " Good-bye, Helena " ; her 
 cheek flickered, but was not kissed. I kissed 
 her hand, and then she was taken to Sir 
 Roderick's heart. 
 
 He was very much moved, but without 
 a fuss. He kissed her fondly, and said some- 
 thing which she answered — inaudibly. Then 
 she went away ; and there was the end, or 
 what seemed to be the end, of a dream. 
 
 Meantime Sir Roderick didn't know that 
 it was his daughter-in-law who was going as 
 Helena's maid. He had had her in to his 
 room, and had made her a little speech in the 
 presence of his sons. He had made her a 
 handsome present, and had said how glad 
 he was that she was to be companion to so 
 dear a friend as the Baroness von Broderode. 
 To all of which Ethel Cook had listened with 
 
 s
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 274 
 
 becoming gravity. She had then had her 
 hand shaken by everybody in turn and had 
 retired. 
 
 Wynyard caught her upstairs, he told me, 
 and had a talk with her. He had not then 
 told Hector, but he said that when he did, 
 it was probable that Hector would tell his 
 father. On his own part he undertook, at 
 a word from her, to put everything on a 
 proper footing. She thanked him and said 
 that she preferred to be as she was. She said 
 that she wasn't fitted to be Pierpoint's wife, 
 and was quite contented. That was all, so 
 far. 
 
 Hector saw them off in the morning — in 
 a bitter driving mist of rain and brown leaves. 
 She had another good-bye with the chief, I 
 heard ; and he was on the steps when she 
 finally departed. Hector went on with them 
 in the motor to the junction. 
 
 Here, for a time, ended my acquaintance 
 with the prettiest and most pettable lady 
 I had ever met. She was fitted to be the 
 wife of any true man, or, indeed, of any 
 dozen, for her tact and sweetness of disposition 
 were such that discordance could not be 
 where she was. No man could hurt her, 
 and I don't believe that the Baron ever did,
 
 275 SURRENDER 
 
 though his hands maybe were not of the 
 lightest. If you ask me my candid opinion, 
 I think she was fairly contented until, in a 
 momentous hour, Hector saw her unhappy 
 and persuaded her that she was so. The 
 Baron had seen that with his usual acumen. 
 By comparison with Inveroran her life with 
 a vivacious old invalid may well have been 
 monotonous ; for what woman could resist 
 a houseful of lovers ? And so she may have 
 found her return an anti-climax. The Baron 
 was going, fine fighter as he was. A stronger 
 enemy than Hector had him held. I suspect 
 that he took to his tbed, when he reached it, 
 and once there, there was no getting out on 
 this side Phlegethon. Well, he had warmed 
 both hands, back and front. There were few 
 phials of pleasure in which he had not dipped. 
 I suppose he was a horrid old scamp ; but I 
 always liked him. He took things as they 
 came, and lost neither head, heart, nor temper. 
 If he tyrannized his Helena, I am certain 
 that he never snarled at her. His appetites 
 were hearty, his tastes somewhat gross, his 
 pleasures the earth. Farewell to him 
 
 from me at least, as a man of courage and 
 resource.
 
 XXII : PASSION OF SIR RODERICK 
 
 I have said already somewhere that Sir 
 Roderick was a man who proceeded by explo- 
 sions, like a petrol-engine. A spark kindled 
 him. A rapid series of puffs and snaps, a 
 whirring and grinding of cogs, and he was 
 off : very often upon the top of you. So he 
 had advanced from youth to maturity, and 
 thence to eld. 
 
 But he was a slow-witted, heavy man, too. 
 He had his fixed ideas, and was himself fixed 
 in them. When one of these was disturbed 
 by outside impact he could at first see only 
 a wanton outrage by the j ostler. It was only 
 by degrees that he appreciated what might 
 have caused the collision ; that the j ostler 
 might himself have been jostled. And when, 
 by degrees and degrees, the truth stood bare, 
 it was quite as likely as not that he would 
 yield to panic — and do considerable damage. 
 
 Put it like this, that his mental apparatus 
 was like a regiment on the march. All goes 
 well so long as it covers the miles without 
 
 276
 
 277 PASSION 
 
 obstacle, to the tap of the drum or the whistling 
 of the ranks. But interruption of routine 
 flurries it — the van is hustled by the rear. 
 The drum-taps are intermittent, the whistling 
 ceases. All at once somebody cries out, 
 " Nous sommes trahis ! " and everybody begins 
 to shoot. 
 
 So it was with Sir Roderick. He believed 
 himself supreme in his house ; he believed 
 that he pushed that which really pushed him. 
 The household routine went on, and he with 
 it. He believed he was taking a great deal 
 of exercise, he took for granted a vast amount 
 of homage and gratitude from dutiful sons and 
 adoring servants. He pictured the boys paus- 
 ing in their daily round of sport or fun to 
 look at each other and say, God bless the 
 dear old chief for all he is doing for us ! He 
 saw himself as a benevolent despot ; and 
 when he found out that he was nothing of the 
 sort — well, he got very cross, and, as I say, 
 did a great deal of damage to himself and 
 others. 
 
 When I came down to breakfast on the 
 morning of Helena's departure I was met 
 at the door by Pat and his young friend. 
 They were tiptoe for a flight. Pat, meeting
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 278 
 
 me, rounded his eyes and pulled his mouth 
 sideways. He durst not say anything or stay 
 his retreat. 
 
 I went in, and saw Wynyard alone at the 
 table, red in the face, looking steadily at 
 his father, who stood with a letter in his 
 hand. I turned to fly, but was too late. 
 
 The chief was on me. He wheeled round 
 and I saw the fire in his dark-blue eyes. 
 
 " Don't leave us — there is no need for that. 
 I think, indeed, that you may be able to 
 move Wynyard's tongue. My son's tongue, 
 sir, which won't wag for his father." He 
 held me out the letter. " Be pleased to read 
 that, sir, and to understand what kind of 
 children I have reared — to disgrace me, by 
 God." 
 
 I held the letter in my hand. I said, " Do 
 you really want me to read this ? " 
 
 Sir Roderick was now solemnly inclined 
 upon his course. " You will oblige me." 
 
 It was from Pier point. 
 
 " My dear Father, — You have no doubt 
 heard from Hector or Wynyard, or both, of 
 my leaving Inveroran, and the reason of it, 
 or what they suppose the reason of it is. I 
 don't trust to their sympathy, and don't
 
 279 PASSION 
 
 particularly want it ; but I should like you 
 to know my own account. I left at once, 
 because it seemed the kindest thing to the 
 persons involved. I have written to my wife 
 to desire her to join me here, where I have 
 made arrangements for her establishment. 
 When you are alone and willing to see me I 
 will come up and give you full particulars. 
 But I definitely decline to meet Wynyard, 
 who had reasons of his own for the course 
 he took, and lost his head as well as his 
 manners. 
 
 " Your affectionate son, 
 
 " P. G. M. Malleson. 
 
 " P.S. — I propose to live abroad and hope 
 to get into the Turkish service. 5 
 
 55 
 
 He wrote from an address in London. 
 
 I handed the letter back under the glare 
 of Sir Roderick's eyes. 
 
 " Well, sir," said he, " what have you to 
 say ? " 
 
 That was a little too much for me. " I 
 have nothing to say," I answered, " and don't 
 know what you expect me to say. I had 
 nothing to do with Pierpoint's marriage, if 
 you mean that." 
 
 He shook the letter at me. " But you
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 280 
 
 knew of it. You knew that he had a wife — 
 here — in this house " 
 
 " He doesn't say that," I said rather 
 foolishly. 
 
 " You prevaricate, sir. She was in this 
 house. She was one of my own servants. 
 And you knew it." 
 
 I didn't know what on earth to do. He 
 was so angry that I should have made him 
 worse whatever I said. Wynyard cut in to 
 the rescue. 
 
 " He knew it because it was burst upon 
 him. He knew nothing of it until then. 
 He heard me mention it. He was with me 
 at the time. It was not for him to tell you. 
 It was for Pierpoint or me." That turned 
 him blazing on Wynyard. 
 
 " And why the devil did you keep me in 
 the dark, sir ? Who are you to say what I 
 am to hear and what not hear ? " 
 
 " Well," said Wynyard slowly, " I am not 
 the husband of the lady, anyhow." 
 
 Sir Roderick laid hands upon himself. If 
 he hadn't Wynyard would have felt his grip. 
 He became dangerously calm. 
 
 " Have the goodness to tell me why you 
 mentioned it, as you are pleased to say, when 
 you did."
 
 281 PASSION 
 
 Wynyard flushed again. 
 
 " I regret it. I should not. But I don't 
 want to drag personal matters into discussion." 
 
 " You decline to answer my question ? " 
 Sir Roderick said, still very quiet. 
 
 " Yes," Wynyard said, " I do." 
 
 Sir Roderick paused, as it seemed to me, 
 in the very act to spring. But I suppose 
 that even he recognized that there are limits 
 to the authority of fathers, chieftains though 
 they be. He glared, his mouth was open, 
 he showed his fine teeth — marvellous teeth 
 for a man of his age : but he left Wynyard 
 alone, and turned to the bell-rope. That he 
 tugged at, and stood by it, with his hand 
 still grasping it, until it was answered. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Malleson to come to me when 
 he returns," he told the man. Then he 
 stalked out of the room. 
 
 " This is beastly," Wynyard said. " It's 
 my fault. I'm sorry." 
 
 I said, " He'll find it out, you know. You 
 can't keep Helena out of it." 
 
 " Who'll tell him ? " said Wynyard. 
 
 I said, " My dear man, it's easy enough. 
 He'll guess it." 
 
 And of course he did ; but it took time. 
 He wrote to Helena and had a telegram in
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 282 
 
 reply. Upon that he went to town, and saw 
 her and Ethel Cook. I had left Inveroran, 
 and had the facts from Hector, who came 
 down with his father, but did not return with 
 him. He dined with me soon after the things 
 which he reported had happened, but not 
 before I had myself had a visit from the chief 
 himself, who wrote for an appointment. 
 
 Directly we were face to face he came to 
 me with his hand out. " I ask your pardon, 
 my dear friend, for my vehemence. I was 
 unjust and you bore with me." That was 
 handsome in the old boy. 
 
 He went on, in a hurry : " You were awk- 
 wardly placed. You did what you had to 
 do — and no more. Yes, I was unjust. You 
 could not have taken on yourself to tell me 
 what you had heard by chance. No, no. 
 But let me tell you that in what you did do — 
 when you sent that weeping, deluded, ignorant, 
 wronged girl to her mistress's heart, to her 
 mistress's arms, you did a charitable, a fine 
 act, sir. It has touched me — it has drawn 
 me here." 
 
 He was greatly moved. His words choked 
 him. He blew his nose vigorously with a 
 red silk handkerchief. I said, " Chief, I did 
 what you would have done at the moment " —
 
 283 PASSION 
 
 which was pretty of me, but disingenuous, 
 because I don't think — and didn't then think 
 — that he would have done anything of the 
 kind. 
 
 But he took it. " Yes, indeed — I hope 
 so. God help us all ! I have seen Helena. 
 She has told me — I am humbled by the sense 
 of her generosity. And I have seen the poor 
 girl, and think that we understand each 
 other. Well, I won't keep you. You are 
 good to bear with the self-reproaches of an 
 old man. These are evil days for my house. 
 I don't know where I stand at the moment. 
 My lovers and friends stand afar off ! But 
 I have broad shoulders, and good friends 
 yet. I doubt not I shall weather it." And 
 then he marched out, with the air of the pipes 
 (I am sure) ringing in his ears. 
 
 I must summarize events of which I have 
 no personal knowledge. Hector kept me in- 
 formed. Pierpoint was got into the Turkish 
 army by interest, and went off without seeing 
 his father or any of his brothers except Hector. 
 Hector insisted on an interview and saw him 
 off. I think he felt it his duty. He was 
 very strict about that. His Ethel didn't 
 go with him, and wouldn't see him ; but
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 284 
 
 she admitted, under pressure, that she might 
 change her mind by and by. She refused 
 also to be set up by the family, preferring to 
 be with Helena. Whether that was Helena's 
 doing I don't know, but suspect that it was. 
 She had very coaxing ways, and may have 
 wanted a confidant. And there's another 
 thing. Helena was exceedingly sensitive to 
 opinion, and one of the cleverest women I 
 ever knew at hitting off the right line. She 
 may well have known how much comfort 
 her friends at Inveroran would derive from 
 her keeping Ethel by her. That they were 
 comforted is beyond question. Hector said 
 so. He said that the chief couldn't say kind 
 enough things about Ethel. He was greatly 
 touched — he hinted at generosities on a large 
 scale in his will. That proves how clever 
 Helena was — one mass of tentacles. As for 
 my poor tentacular friend himself, consumed 
 as he was by cares for what might or might 
 not be Helena's fate, resumed by the claws 
 of her husband, whom his dark imagination 
 pictured as a horrible cross between Pan, 
 Priapus, and Mephistopheles, his whole trust 
 was in the gravity and deep bosom of his 
 handsome sister-in-law. He made a kind of 
 Demeter of that fine girl, and pictured her
 
 285 PASSION 
 
 keeping watch and ward while his pale Perse- 
 phone shivered in the house of Hades. 
 
 The von Broderodes went back to Vienna. 
 Hector wrote to her once a week, and heard 
 from her, perhaps, once a month. He showed 
 me some of her letters, or read me parts of 
 them. She didn't complain, never mentioned 
 the Baron (an old trick of hers), said that she 
 had Hermione at home and seemed happy in 
 feeling that she was bringing her up properly. 
 Hermione was getting on for thirteen, a tall 
 child. She had sent her photograph to Sir 
 Roderick, and, as I gathered, a good deal 
 more besides. " I told your father," or " the 
 chief will know by this time " — constant 
 phrases in her letters — pointed to a pretty 
 regular correspondence with the head of the 
 clan Malleson. But Hector, " the dangerous 
 man," was not at all dangerous now. He 
 loved her in his melancholy way. But there 
 was to be no fruit. It had miffed-off, as the 
 gardeners say. It was his career, in matters 
 of the heart, to love romantically, and be 
 esteemed in return. Like the Austrian army, 
 he had a " tradition of defeat." Poor, excel- 
 lent, chaste Hector.
 
 XXIII : THE END OF IT ALL 
 
 Wynyard went abroad, bought land in Florida, 
 and prospered. He was out there when the 
 news came that the Baron was dead. That 
 was two years, rather more, after he carried 
 home his Helena with such triumph as per- 
 tained. Hector dined with me when he had 
 the news, and told me all about it. He said 
 that he had wired to his father, not because 
 it was necessary, for almost certainly Helena 
 had told him, but for an odd reason. " My 
 father likes little attentions, and doesn't like 
 it to be known that he does. So I showed him 
 one on my own account, and led him to infer 
 that I knew nothing of Helena's. Do you see ? " 
 He thought that rather neat. 
 
 He talked a good deal about her, wondering 
 how she was left off ; what she would do with 
 the Galicia estate, with Hermione — and with 
 Ethel. That young woman had not yet 
 claimed conjugal relationship with Pierpoint. 
 Malleson Bey he was now. He had done very 
 well with a Macedonian rising ; was thought to 
 
 86
 
 287 THEENDOFITALL 
 
 be a coming man. " If I go out to Vienna," 
 he said musingly, " I shall try to arrange some- 
 thing. It's pretty bad to have a pretty sister- 
 in-law whom you can't treat as such." 
 
 " But you can treat her as such perfectly 
 well," I told him. " Do you suppose Helena 
 has left her where she picked her up ? Not a 
 bit of it. I bet you something handsome that 
 Mrs. Ethel is a somebody in Vienna." 
 
 " She'd be a nobody at Inveroran," he said, 
 " to the end of the chapter. Why, old Sandars 
 knew her as a bet ween- maid." 
 
 " Oh, you can't have her there, of course." 
 That I admitted. " But you can set her up 
 with a household." 
 
 " I'll see about it," he said, and grew gloomy. 
 I knew he was thinking of his chances with 
 Helena, trying to get himself to admit that they 
 were nothing at all. 
 
 But he didn't go out for a long time. He had 
 heard the news in the summer. In August he 
 went home and saw his father. No doubt that 
 they talked about it. I know that he went 
 with the intention of telling him what he hoped 
 for. He stayed up there for his usual time, 
 came back to London in October, and then told 
 me that he was going to ask Helena to marry 
 him. He was very depressed about it.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 288 
 
 " I've loved her for nearly four years," he 
 said. " I feel very nervous. She means so 
 much to me by this time that I hardly dare 
 consider her in such a relationship. Don't you 
 understand that a man may magnify and en- 
 hance a woman so much by constantly brooding 
 upon her with adoration that the other feelings 
 are atrophied, as it were ? " 
 
 I said that I did understand it, but added 
 that I understood also that atrophy of the other 
 feelings did not make marriage a hopeful 
 adventure. 
 
 He knew that. He began, " You think 
 that a platonic union — " and I must needs 
 laugh. 
 
 " Helena is no platonist," I said. " But, 
 after all, I don't suppose that you are, either. 
 Nor have you any business to be. The In- 
 veroran nurseries must be filled. You have 
 an inheritance to hand on." 
 
 " Nigel has half a dozen children," he said. 
 
 " They won't console your wife, my poor 
 Hector," I told him. 
 
 He said, It was very difficult. I replied that 
 I understood it was not. But he frowned me 
 down. 
 
 The Baron, by his will, had left Rosemount 
 to — Sir Roderick ! Posthumous magnanimity,
 
 289 THEENDOF ITALL 
 
 which impressed Hector very much. I hadn't 
 understood before that it had been his own 
 property ; but it seems that he bought it out- 
 right of Peter Grant : and now, with a cynical 
 twist quite in keeping with his character, had 
 dished that enemy of the Clan Malleson. I 
 could imagine him chuckling as he flapped his 
 spectral wings over the family vault. Hector 
 said that his father would accept the disposi- 
 tion, and was very glad of it, indeed, though he 
 would not allow any merit to the disposer. 
 There had been some question, he told me, 
 whether or not the chief should go out to 
 Vienna, but he had decided that Hector 
 should take his place. Ample provision was 
 to be made for Mrs. Pierpoint ; Pierpoint him- 
 self was to be urged to proper behaviour. As 
 for Helena, the chief had written to her, no 
 doubt ; but Hector had no direct message to 
 her from the head of his house. The chief had 
 said to him, " She knows that her home is here. 
 She'll find the fire on the hearth whenever she 
 comes, whether it's mine or yours." That was 
 all he had said, but he knew that the proud 
 old chap was hungry for her. " He seems to 
 be waiting. He's always looking South-east," 
 he said. " And certainly the place is horribly 
 empty without her."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 290 
 
 " Well, my dear man," I said, " it's up to you. 
 She'll come if you ask her." 
 
 He was still very depressed. " One can't 
 marry to please one's father, you know." 
 
 "One doesn't," I said. Then I added, 
 " Look here, Hector. I won't stand in your 
 way. I never have yet. But if you don't ask 
 her, I shall." 
 
 He was greatly surprised. " You ! You 
 love her ? " 
 
 I said, " Not in your way. But I like to be 
 comfortable as much as anybody, and she'd 
 make any man comfortable." 
 
 44 Your view is hateful to me," he said — and 
 he looked it. 
 
 I said, 44 If the thought of her arms don't 
 inspire you with feelings of comfort, you had 
 better leave her alone. What ! Are you a man, 
 or an idea ? She at least is woman," I said. 
 44 1 promise you that." On that he left me. 
 
 We parted good friends ; for I saw him off 
 to the East and wished him well. I knew quite 
 we* what was going to happen to him, and I 
 think he did too. 
 
 It was very like Hector to change his plans 
 half-way towards the fulfilment of them. He 
 was ostensibly going to Constantinople. He 
 went, in fact, directly to Vienna, and I heard
 
 291 THEENDOFITALL 
 
 from him there : a short and terse communica- 
 tion which, I have no doubt, he thought a 
 business letter. 
 
 " Helena is well," he wrote. " A beautiful 
 serenity upon her, like a silver light on the sea. 
 Hermione is exactly like her, but colder. Not 
 so affectionate. Mother and daughter seem 
 like sisters. I hardly knew Ethel again. She 
 is a very distinguished person. Willing to see 
 P., from whom she has had two or three letters. 
 My father has written to her with his proposal 
 for her establishment. She is indifferent to 
 money but, I think, wants a child. I hasten to 
 say that this is pure inference on my part. She 
 looks older than Helena, to whom she is devoted. 
 She has not been converted. Helena talks 
 much of Scotland. I am hopeful of bringing 
 her over in the spring. The Galician estates 
 are to be sold. They are Hermione's. Helena 
 has very little. I am go ng to Constantinople 
 next week. Helena does not wish P. to come 
 here — but there is no likelihood of it. I hear 
 that they think much of him at Constantinople." 
 Then he sent me a line from Constantinople. 
 
 " P. lives in great style here. He has a kind 
 of kiosque — rather like a good sort of Floren- 
 tine villa stuck out in a Venetian lagoon.
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 292 
 
 Cypresses all about it, a flaky wall with battle- 
 ments, and weedy steps down into the water. 
 He wasn't cordial, but heard what I had to say. 
 My impression was that he would be glad to 
 have Ethel if he were sure that she wanted to 
 come. I told him that she was admired. 
 He said that she always had been, but that she 
 had been faithful to him in one class, and no 
 doubt would continue so in another. I said 
 plainly that he at least had given her no 
 reason to be so. He answered, No ; but she 
 had had the reason in herself. That was rather 
 sublime. At the end he said that he didn't 
 care to have her here as his official wife, and I 
 then discovered that he proposed to begin from 
 the beginning. He was for a wooing. It was 
 left like this, that she should settle herself in 
 Vienna, and receive him when he presented 
 himself. He would not, he said, be able to 
 leave his duty for a month or two. If Helena 
 has not gone by that time I shall have to ask 
 her to receive him. I don't think she will 
 desert Ethel until something is fixed. She is 
 very faithful.' 
 
 55 
 
 He was right. Helena said that the wooing 
 must be done in her house, and that she would 
 receive Pierpoint if he came out to Vienna.
 
 293 THEENDOFITALL 
 
 She sent Hector home with a message for his 
 father that she charged herself with the duty 
 and would see it through. So far as I could 
 make out, no tender proposals had been made 
 her by my transcendental friend. 
 
 There the affair, so far as I was concerned, 
 rested until the summer, when Helena was 
 expected in London, en route for Inveroran. 
 Meantime, however, Wynyard had come back 
 to England. He arrived in May. 
 
 He looked abundantly healthy, but was 
 grimmer than ever. Things had prospered 
 with him. He grew oranges, and sold them. 
 Had a large property and was adding to it. 
 But he hadn't come over to deal in oranges. 
 He told me in so many words that if he could 
 get Helena he intended to do it. He squared 
 his jaw, showed angry lights in his blue eyes, 
 and looked formidable — but yet I doubted. 
 He might frighten her into it, but the chances 
 were that he would overdo it. He would not 
 go North to see his father at present. He said 
 that he had heard that Helena was coming 
 to England, and should wait for her. He hoped 
 to catch her in Paris and make his cast there. 
 According as he sped, Inveroran should be his 
 next move — or the White Star home. 
 
 He went off accordingly to Paris, and I didn't
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 294 
 
 hear from him again. I gather that he made 
 her a definite offer of his heart, hand and 
 oranges, which she neither accepted nor re- 
 jected, but left in suspense. I gather as much 
 because he didn't come back with her, nor cross 
 the Atlantic, but went off walking by himself 
 in the Pyrenees. He was expected at In- 
 veroran in the autumn — to learn his fate — no 
 doubt. 
 
 In London she was met by Hector, shining 
 bolt in hand. He had screwed himself up ; 
 but when or where he sped it I don't know. 
 Kew Gardens, I believe. The result, in his 
 case also, was neither hit nor miss. He told 
 me that she had been very kind to him — and 
 you know what that means. There had been 
 tears in her beautiful eyes ; but she could 
 give him no other answer but the assurance of 
 her gratitude — at present. Hermione and she 
 were staying with Mrs. Jack Chevenix. I was 
 asked to meet them, but couldn't go. Pier- 
 point, I heard, had been in Vienna, and had 
 laid siege to the heart of his wife, who had made 
 him the happiest of men. So that was all right, 
 or we were agreed to suppose it so. Then 
 Helena and Hermione went up to Inveroran, 
 and Hector was their escort. Then a bomb 
 burst.
 
 295 THEENDOFITALL 
 
 Wynyard came to my rooms one night while 
 I was at dinner. It was late in July ; London 
 tired, dry and hot. I heard the door open 
 and a bag flung down in the passage. I heard 
 Wynyard say, " I shan't keep him a minute." 
 And then he walked in. The light seemed to 
 dazzle him. His eyes looked pale, his mouth 
 was open ; he kept opening and shutting his 
 hands. I pictured him as having been stuck 
 in a railway carriage all the way from Pam- 
 pluna, with his mouth open, and his hands 
 opening and shutting. 
 
 I got up, but he motioned me down. 
 
 " Go on," he said. " I'm not going to stay. 
 I'm heading for Liverpool. I'm off." 
 
 " She won't have you ? " I said. 
 
 He jerked his head. " She can't. She's 
 going to be my stepmother. God of life and 
 death ! " 
 
 I wasn't at all surprised, but I had to pretend 
 to be. 
 
 " Droit de Seigneur," I said. " After all, a 
 chieftain's a chieftain." 
 
 Wynyard poured himself out a glass of 
 sherry." 
 
 " I've been a d — — d fool. I never thought 
 of it. My idea was that Hector would ask 
 her."
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 296 
 
 " Hector ! " I cried. " Not a chance of 
 Hector." Then I said, " If you really want 
 my opinion, I think the best man has won. 
 Your father has no peers. He will give 
 you half a dozen young brothers and sisters, 
 and spoil Helena over her pretty head and 
 ears." 
 
 Wynyard squared his jaw. "I shouldn't 
 have spoiled her," he said, " nor she me. We 
 should have done very well." 
 
 He would have dragooned her ; she would 
 have been his slave. But I daresay she would 
 have taken him if he had insisted on it, in time. 
 I have always said of her from the beginning 
 that she would have married any one of them 
 and made him perfectly happy. The best man 
 got her. 
 
 Old Laura Bacchus, who was there at the 
 time and saw it all, gave me a detailed account 
 of it. " I always expected it," she said, " at 
 the back of my head. It lay there, put by like 
 a Paisley shawl. I used to look at it now and 
 then and say, You wait. I shall find a use for 
 you one of these days. Directly she came up 
 I saw how it was to be. Not from him, mind 
 you. You don't catch a Scotchman letting 
 you know his mind. He ! He took it as
 
 297 THE END OF IT ALL 
 
 quietly as you please. Didn't go to the 
 station even. Met her on the perron and gave 
 her a kiss as if she was his daughter-in-law; 
 and a kiss for young Miss too, who was shy. 
 No, it was from her I saw what was going 
 to happen. Why, my dear man, she settled 
 down into his arms with a sigh you could hear 
 across the room, fluffing out her breast- 
 feathers like a nesting dove. And croon ! 
 My wig, I should think she did croon. Just 
 one or two." 
 
 " Miss Bacchus, Miss Bacchus," I said, " no 
 poetry here, I beg. Tell me the facts, and I'll 
 work the poetry in afterwards." 
 
 " She came," said Miss Bacchus, " with 
 bright fever in her eyes ; but that all went after 
 the first day. And she took up her house- 
 keeping where she left it off. The old chief had 
 to blow his nose, the morning he came down and 
 found his rose on his plate. . . . You'll see. 
 She'll get plump. She takes it all as a cat laps 
 cream. You can see her lick her whiskers. 
 She sits sleeking herself." 
 
 " My friend, my friend ! " 
 
 " Oh, well," said Miss Bacchus, " I don't see 
 why she should get off. You've always got to 
 pay for your fun. She owes me a lot. . . . 
 Well, it didn't take 'em long. She came to
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 298 
 
 me one afternoon with a soft light in her eyes. 
 Came gliding in. They had a black-velvety 
 look, as if they were all pupil. She stood and 
 looked at me, her head on one side, like a 
 thrush considering how or where to dig at 
 his worm. Then she kissed me, and told me 
 all about it. ' I think I'm the happiest woman 
 in Europe,' she said. * He's asked me to marry 
 him.' ' And what did you say ? ' I asked 
 her. She looked at me, her eyes laughing. 
 * I didn't say anything,' she said. * There 
 wasn't time.' I say, he's an old corker, isn't 
 he though ? " 
 
 I admitted that Sir Roderick might well be a 
 corker. 
 
 " Well, she simply drank in happiness by the 
 bosomful. She didn't understand that it could 
 be so awfully nice and not be bad for you. 
 4 Why don't I get drunk ? ' she said. And then 
 she said, 4 Oh, I will be good to him ! ' and then 
 again, in a way that touched me, ' I've never 
 had the chance of being good before.' It was 
 rot, you know ; but I'm sure that she felt like 
 that." 
 
 I was not so sure that it was rot. I 
 guessed that the Baron had been thwarting 
 to virtue. 
 
 Miss Bacchus allowed for the Baron. His
 
 299 THEENDOFITALL 
 
 life had hardened him. He had no use for good 
 women and couldn't understand them. His 
 palate had been ruined. " All cayenne pepper, 
 you know," she said. 
 
 I ended up with a " Poor old Hector ! " 
 But she said, " Pooh ! She'll be awfully kind 
 to Hector. He don't want to marry anybody. 
 He only wants a woman to say his prayers to. 
 Will you take my three to one that he's his 
 father's best man ? " 
 
 I said that I would not. And it was lucky 
 for me that I didn't. Because he was. 
 
 That's all over long ago. There's been a 
 
 child since, and they do say But the child 
 
 in being is a daughter, and called, with great 
 gallantry, Euphemia. So Sir Roderick has 
 tackled the Malleson curse, and looks like 
 winning. 
 
 But I remember that Pat — at the wedding — 
 had a jibe about Hector being like a mute at 
 his own funeral ; and that afterwards, when 
 we had seen the happy pair off, and were 
 lighting up, he had taken my arm, with the 
 pretty wheedling way he had, and said, 
 " Don't you love a chap who's an ass pour It 
 bon motif?" I admit that I do. I'm awfully 
 fond of Hector ; and he'll make an excellent
 
 THE LITTLE ILIAD 300 
 
 stepson. Not that he will be asked to play 
 Hippolytus. Helena is madly in love with 
 her old Theseus. You never saw a fonder 
 couple. Inseparable !
 
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