The Zeppelin's PassengerOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Zeppelin's Passenger
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Historical fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
To Major Richard Felstead, Mills' announcement was without significance.
For the first time he became conscious, however, of something which
seemed almost like a secret understanding between his sister and his
fiancée.
“Tell Mr. Lessingham I shall be with him in a minute or two, if he will
kindly wait,” Philippa instructed.
“Who is Mr. Lessingham?” Richard enquired, as soon as the door had
closed behind Mills. “Seems a queer time to call.”
Helen glanced at Philippa, whose lips framed a decided negative.
“Mr. Lessingham is a gentleman staying in the neighbourhood,” the
latter replied. “You will probably make his acquaintance before long.
Incidentally, he saved Henry's life the other night.”
“Sounds exciting,” Richard observed. “What form of destruction was Henry
courting?”
“There was a trawler shipwrecked in the storm,” Philippa explained. “You
can see it from all the front windows. Henry was on board, returning
from one of his fishing excursions. They were trying to find Dumble's
anchorage and were driven in on to that low ridge of rock. A rope broke,
or something, they had no more rockets, and Mr. Lessingham swam out with
the line.”
“Sounds like a plucky chap,” Richard admitted.
Philippa rose to her feet regretfully.
“I expect he has come to wish us good-by,” she said. “I'll leave you
with Helen, Dick. Don't let her overfeed you. And you know where the
cigars are, Helen. Take Dick into the gun room afterwards. You'll have
it all to yourselves and there is a fire there.”
Philippa entered the library in a state of agitation for which she was
glad to have some reasonable excuse. She held out both her hands to
Lessingham.
“Dick is back--just arrived!” she exclaimed. “I can't tell you how happy
we are, and how grateful!”
Lessingham raised her fingers to his lips.
“I am glad,” he said simply. “Do you mean that he is in the house here,
now?”
“He is in the dining room with Helen.”
Lessingham for a moment was thoughtful.
“Don't you think,” he suggested, “that it would be better to keep us
apart?”
“I was wondering,” she confessed.
“Have you told him about my bringing the letters?”
She shook her head.
“We nearly did. Then I stopped--I wasn't sure.”
“You were wise,” he said.
“Are you wise?” she asked him quickly.
“In coming back here?”
She nodded.
“Captain Griffiths knows everything,” she reminded him. “He is simply
furious because your arrest was interfered with. I really believe that
he is dangerous.”
Lessingham was unmoved.
“I had to come back,” he said simply.
“Why did you go away so suddenly?”
“Well, I had to do that, too,” he replied, “only the governing causes
were very different. We will speak, if you do not mind, only of the
cause which has brought me back. That I believe you know already.”
Philippa was curiously afraid. She looked towards the door as though
with some vague hope of escape. She realised that the necessity for
decision had arrived.
“Philippa,” he went on, “do you see what this is?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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