The Way of the Spirit

THE WAY OF THE SPIRIT

they cannot say they have not scattered their hearts about; that is what the French word means, doesn’t it?”

Then in the amusement that was caused by Lady Devene’s mixed metaphors and quaint suggestion that with her ample form she should shelter the confidences of Rupert and Edith from prying ayes, the joke was turned from them to her, as she meant that it should be, and finally forgotten. But neither Rupert nor Edith forgot it. Never again did they sit close together in that Grosvenor Square drawing-room, even in the fancied absence of Lord Devene, a result for which Edith, who hated such public demonstrations, was truly grateful.

For a while after the announcement of the engagement Rupert and Dick had seen as little of each other as was possible, the former, because he had not forgiven Dick’s conduct at the shooting party, which impressed his mind far more than the vague talk about him and Edith in the past. In this, indeed, he had never believed, and his nature being utterly unsuspicious, it was now totally forgotten. As for Dick, he had his own reasons for the avoidance of his successful rival, whom all men and women united to honour. By degrees, however, Edith, who lived in perpetual fear of some passionate outburst from Dick, managed to patch up their differences, at least to the outward eye, for the abyss between them was too wide to be ever really bridged. Indeed, her efforts in this direction nearly resulted in what she most wanted to avoid, an open quarrel.

It came about in this fashion. The opportunity which had been foreseen arose; the sitting member for that county division in which Lord Devene lived had retired, and Dick was put up to contest the seat in the Radical interest against a strong

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and popular Conservative candidate. His chances of success were fair, as the constituency was notoriously fickle, and public feeling just then was running against the Tories. Also Lord Devene, although as a peer he could take no active part in the election, was using his great wealth and interest in every legitimate way to secure his nominee’s return.

When the contest, with the details of which we need not concern ourselves, drew near its close, Dick himself suggested that it might help him, and give variety to one of his larger meetings, if Rupert would come and talk a little about Egypt and the Arabs with whom he had fought so often. He knew well that although country people will attend political gatherings and shout on this side or on that according as they think that their personal advantage lies, all the best of them are in reality far more interested in exciting stories of fact from someone whom they respect, than in the polemics of party politicians.

When the suggestion was made to him, needless to say, Rupert declined it at once. Theoretically, he was a Liberal; that is to say, like most good and earnest men he desired the welfare of the people and the promotion of all measures by which it might be furthered. But on the other hand, he was no bitter Radical of the stamp of Lord Devene, who wished to pull down and burn for the sake of the crash and the flare; and he was, on the other hand, what nowadays is called an Imperialist, believing in the mission of Britain among the peoples of the earth, and desiring the consolidation of her empire’s might because it meant justice, peace, and individual security; because it freed the slave, paralysed the hands of rapine, and caused the corn to grow and the child to laugh.

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Now Rupert did not consider that these causes would be promoted by the return of Dick to Parliament, where he would sit as a mouthpiece of Lord Devene. Then Edith intervened, and dropping Dick out of the matter, asked him to do this for her sake. She explained that for family reasons it would be a good thing if Dick won this seat, as thereby a new career would be open to him who sadly needed one; also that Dick himself would be most grateful.

The end of it was that Rupert consented, forgetting, or not being aware, that as an officer on leave he had no business to appear upon a party platform, a fact of which Dick did not think it necessary to remind him.

The meeting, which was one of the last of the campaign, took place in the corn-hall of a small country town, and was crowded by the supporters of Dick and a large contingent of his opponents. The candidate himself, who spoke glibly and well enough, for as Edith and others had often found out, Dick did not lack for readiness, gave his address, which was cheered by his friends and groaned at by his foes. It was of the stereotyped order – that is to say, utterly worthless, a mere collection of the parrot platitudes of the hour by which the great heart of the people was supposed to be moved, but for all that, well and forcibly delivered.

Then followed a heavy and long-winded member of Parliament, at whom, before he had done, the whole room hooted, while some of the occupants of the back benches began to sing and shuffle their feet. Next the chairman, a prosperous local manufacturer, rose and said that he was going to call upon Colonel Ullershaw of the Egyptian army, Companion of the

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Bath, member of the Distinguished Service Order, and of the Turkish Order of the Medjidie (he called it “Gee-gee,” or something like it), and the possessor of various medals, to say nothing of his being the relative and present heir of their most esteemed friend and neighbour, the noble Lord Devene, and therefore intimately connected with every one of them, to address them. The gallant Colonel would not make them a political speech, as they had had enough of politics for that night (at this the audience enthusiastically shouted, Hear, hear!), but he would tell them about the wars in Egypt which, although many of them did not approve of those wars, were still interesting to hear about as at any rate they paid for them (more hear, hears!). He might well call him gallant, as they would also when he told them the following story, and to the absolute horror of Rupert, who was literally writhing on a back seat behind this dreadful man, and to the amusement of Edith sitting at his side, he proceeded to give a highly-coloured and garbled version of the exploit that did not win him the Victoria Cross, whereon a voice shouted:

“That’s all true. I was there. I saw the Colonel come in with the man.” (Renewed and tempestuous cheers.)

There being no help for it, Rupert rose, and was warmly greeted. He had never given his mind to public speaking, and although his voice was good and resonant, it cannot be said that at the beginning his remarks compelled attention. Indeed, after five minutes of them, Dick and his agent, counting him a failure, began to consult as to how they could get him down, while Edith felt mortified. Then, as he wandered on with a long and scientific account of the Egyptian cam-

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paigns, someone shouted: “Stow all that history book, and tell us about Gordon.”

Instantly Rupert took fire, for Gordon was his favourite hero, the man whom he had known, loved and revered above all other men. He began to tell them about Gordon, about his glorious and desperate enterprise undertaken at the request of the Government, about his splendid fight against overwhelming odds, whilst sick at heart he awaited the relief that was sent too late; about that journey to save him in which he, Rupert, had shared, about the details of his martyr-death. Then, quite forgetting the occasion and whom he had come to support, he broke into a really eloquent tirade against those whom he considered to be responsible for the desertion of Gordon.

To finish up with, in answer to the suggestion of a voice in the audience that Gordon was not really dead, he actually quoted some well-known lines of poetry which he had by heart:

“He will not come again, whate’er our need, He will not come, who is happy, being freed From the deathly flesh and perishable things, And lies of statesmen and rewards of kings,” and then suddenly sat down amidst a tempest of cheers, mingled with cries of “Shame!” in which the whole room

joined.

“Great Heavens!” said Dick fiercely, to his agent, “I believe that speech will lose us the election.”

“Shouldn’t wonder,” answered the agent grimly. “Whatever did you get him here for? Better have stuck to the party patter.”

Meanwhile a man, standing on a form, bawled out:

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“And is them the beggars as you wishes us to vote for, master?”

Whereon followed what the local paper (luckily for Rupert his remarks were reported nowhere else) described as “great confusion,” which culminated in something like a free fight. In the midst of all this tumult, Dick, who was beside himself with passion, forced his way to Rupert, and almost shaking his fist in his face, shouted at him:

“Damn you! You did that on purpose. You’ve lost me the seat, but sooner or later I’ll be even with you, you canting hypocrite – “

He got no further, for next instant Rupert’s heavy right hand fell upon his shoulder and forced him to a chair.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” he said; “but speak like that again, and I’ll throw you off the platform.”

Then Dick, feeling that iron grip still upon his shoulder, was silent.

Here we may close the account of this curious scene, which once more showed the undesirability of invoking the aid of inexperienced and too honest persons at party meetings. To Dick the matter was serious enough, but to Edith’s surprise, Lord Devene, whom she had thought would be angry, was intensely amused. Indeed, he went so far as to say that whether Dick got in or not, that one delightful story was worth the cost of the entire campaign.

When Rupert came to understand what he had done, needless to say he showed much penitence, and wrote a letter of apology to Dick, in which he “regretted having spoken the truth about Gorden in the excitement of the moment,” and

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gave him leave, if he wished, “to publish this letter.” Of this kind offer Dick did not avail himself. Under advice, however, he wrote back, saying sarcastically that the fault was his, who should have remembered that “distinguished men of action were rarely adepts at public speaking, and could not be expected to understand the exigencies of party affairs, which seldom made it desirable to drag the last veil from Truth, however pure and beautiful she might be.” He concluded by apologising, in his turn, for any words that he might have spoken “in the excitement of the moment.”

Thus, outwardly, at any rate, matters were patched up between them; still Dick did not forget his promise to be even sooner or later, or indeed the weight of Rupert’s hand, of which his shoulder showed traces for many a day.

As for the end of the contest, the Devene money and interest prevailed at last, Dick being returned triumphantly with a small but sufficient majority of fifteen votes, reduced to thirteen on a recount. A few days later he took his seat in the House, where he was enthusiastically received by his party, to which the winning of this election was of consequence.

Dick had not very long to wait for his first opportunity of “coming even” with Rupert. As it chanced, on the 11th of April, two days before the marriage, he met and fell into conversation with Lord Southwick in the lobby of the House.

“By the way,” said his lordship, “rather a pity that Ullershaw is just going to be married; we have got a job that would exactly suit him.”

“What is that?” asked Dick, pricking up his ears.

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“Oh! a man is wanted who knows those rascally Arab sheiks who live about the frontier at Wady-Halfa – secret service mission, to get round them privately, you know; I can’t tell you the details, not that I think you would give me away to your people. The officer sent must be thoroughly acquainted with Arabs, and with the beastly manners and customs of the natives. Ullershaw’s name came up at once as the very man, but I said that I was going to his wedding in two days, so as we couldn’t think of anyone else, the matter was left over till tomorrow afternoon.”

“When would he have to start?” asked Dick.

“At once, the thing is urgent; on Friday by the Brindisi mail, about seven o’clock in the evening, and you see he is to be married that afternoon. It’s a thousand pities, as it would have been a great chance for him and for us too.”

Dick thought a moment and light came to him.

“My cousin Ullershaw is a curious fellow,” he said, “and I am not by any means certain that he would let his marriage stand in the way of duty, if it were put to him like that. How long would this mission take?”

“Oh! he could be back here in three months, but – er – you know – er – it would not be entirely devoid of risk. That’s why we must have someone whose nerve can be really relied on.”

“Ullershaw likes risk. As you say, it would suit him down to the ground. Look here, Lord Southwick! why don’t you give him the chance? It would be kind of you. It’s a shame to take away a fellow’s opportunities because he commits the crime of getting married, and matrimonial bliss will generally keep

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three months. Send for him and ask him. At any rate, he will appreciate the compliment.”

“Don’t think I should if I had only been married an hour or two,” said Lord Southwick. “However, the public service must be considered, so I will hear what my chief says. Where will a wire find him?”

Dick gave the address, and as an afterthought added that of Lord Devene in Grosvenor Square, where it occurred to him that Rupert would very likely be on the following afternoon, suggesting that it would be wise to send any telegram in duplicate.

“Very well,” said the Under-Secretary, as he made a note of the addresses. “I will settle it one way or another to-morrow afternoon; shan’t get the chance before,” and he turned to go.

“One word,” broke in Dick. “I shall take it as a favour if you don’t mention my name in connection with this matter. Of course I want to do him a good turn, but there is no knowing how the lady will take it, and I might get wigged afterwards.”

“All right,” answered Lord Southwick, with a laugh; “I’ll remember.”

“I don’t think that Edith would see spending her honeymoon amongst the savages of the Soudan,” reflected Dick to himself, with a crooked smile, as he made his way into the House. “’Not devoid of risk.’ Yes, Rupert’s friend, Gordon, went on a special mission to the Soudan, and did not come back.”

* * *

On the following afternoon about four o’clock, as Rupert was leaving his mother’s house to see Edith in Grosvenor

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Square, where she had taken up her abode, a messenger put a telegram into his hand, which read:

“Come to the War Office at once. Must speak with you upon very important business. Will wait here till five.

“Southwick.”

Wondering what he was wanted for, Rupert told his cabman to drive to Pall Mall, and within half an hour of the receipt of the telegram sent in his card. Presently he was shown, not to the Under-Secretary’s room, but into another, where he found the Secretary of State, and with him, Lord Southwick.

“Prompt, very prompt, I see, Colonel Ullershaw,” said the former; “an excellent quality in an officer. Now sit down and I will just go over the main points of this business. If you undertake it, Lord Southwick will explain the details afterwards. You know the Wady-Halfa district and the Shillook Arabs and their headmen, don’t you, and you can speak Arabic well, can’t you? Also you have had diplomatic experience, haven’t you?”

“Yes, sir, to all four questions,” answered Rupert.

“Very good. These Shillooks have been giving a lot of trouble, raiding and killing people about Abu-Simbel and so forth. According to our reports, which you can see afterwards, they have been stirred up by a rascal called Ibrahim, the Sheik of the Sweet Wells. Do you know him?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Rupert, with a little smile, “he threatened to murder me the other day.”

“I can quite believe it. Now see here. We are advised that several of these Shillook chiefs, including the one who has the most influence, are getting tired of the Khalifa and his little ways, and are, in short, open to treat, if only they can be got

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