The Arbiter: A NovelBell, Florence Eveleen Eleanore Olliffe, Lady
History
The Arbiter: A Novel
Bell, Florence Eveleen Eleanore Olliffe, Lady
Great Britain -- History -- Victoria, 1837-1901 -- Fiction; Spy stories
Rendel jumped in, and the brougham moved past the window just as Sir
William Gore, who had painfully pulled himself out of his chair, looked
out, petrified with surprise at the unexplained crisis that seemed to
have come upon the household. "Stamfordham!" he said to himself, "and
Frank! What are the Imperialists hatching now, I wonder?" and he
mechanically looked round him at Rendel's writing-table. It was,
however, closed and forbidding, save for a little corner of white paper
that was sticking out under the revolving flap. By one of those strange,
almost unconscious impulses which may suddenly overtake the best of us
at times, Gore put out his hand and pulled out the paper. It was quite
loose and came away in his hand. What was it? He looked at it vaguely.
Then gradually it became clear. A map?... yes, it was a rough map, with
a thick line drawn from the top to the bottom down the middle of it;
names to the right and the left. England? Germany? And what were those
words written underneath? _What?_ Was that how Germany was going to be
'squared?' And sheer excitement gave him strength to grasp more or less
the meaning of what he saw. If Africa were going to be divided, if
Germany and England were agreeing to that division, it meant Peace.
There was no doubt of it. But had the Imperialists suddenly gone on to
the side of peace? Had they snatched that trump card from their
adversaries and were they going to play it? Sir William stood gazing at
the paper. Then as he heard some one at the door of the room he
suddenly realised what he had done. He instinctively clutched the paper
in the hand which held the _Mayfair Gazette_, the newspaper concealing
it. As he turned and looked towards the door an unexpected sight greeted
his eyes--no other than Pateley, who, finding himself in the hall
unheralded, had made up his mind to come into Rendel's study and there
ring the bell for some one who should bring word to Sir William Gore of
his presence. But he was surprised to find Sir William downstairs
instead of in his room as he had expected. He paused for a moment,
shocked at the change in Gore's appearance. He looked thin, listless,
bent: his upright figure, his spring, his energy were gone. Pateley's
heart smote him for a moment. Would it be possible to call this feeble,
suffering creature to account? Then his heart hardened again as he
thought of his sisters.
"Pateley!" said Gore, advancing with the remains of his usual manner,
but curiously shaken for the moment, as Pateley said to himself, out of
his usual self-confidence.
The state of nervousness of the older man was painfully perceptible.
Added to his general weakness, which made the mere fact of seeing some
one unexpectedly a sudden shock to him, he had besides at that moment an
additional and very definite reason for uneasiness in the thing which he
held in his hand. He endeavoured, however, to pull himself together as
he shook hands with Pateley.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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