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
There was a moment's silence. Philippa's face had become almost stony.
She took a step towards the telephone. Lessingham, however, held out his
hand.
“Your purpose?” he enquired.
“I am going to ring up the Commandant here,” she told him, “and explain
your presence in this house.”
“An heroic impulse,” he observed, “but too impulsive.”
“We shall see,” she retorted. “Will you let me pass?”
His fingers restrained her as gently as possible.
“Let me make a reasonable appeal to both of you,” he suggested. “I am
here at your mercy. I promise you that under no circumstances will I
attempt any measure of violence. From any fear of that, I trust my name
and my friendship with your brother will be sufficient guarantee.”
“Continue, then,” Philippa assented.
“You will give me ten minutes in which to state my case,” he begged.
“We must!” Helen exclaimed. “We must, Philippa! Please!”
“You shall have your ten minutes,” Philippa conceded.
He abandoned his attitude of watchfulness and moved back on to the
hearth-rug, his hands behind him. He addressed himself to Philippa. It
was Philippa who had become his judge.
“I will claim nothing from you,” he began, “for the services which I
have rendered to Richard. Our friendship was a real thing, and, finding
him in such straits, I would gladly, under any circumstances, have done
all that I have done. I am well paid for this by the thanks which you
have already proffered me.”
“No thanks--nothing that we could do for you would be sufficient
recompense,” Helen declared energetically.
“Let me speak for a moment of the future,” he continued. “Supposing you
ring that telephone and hand me over to the authorities here? Well, that
will be the end of me, without a doubt. You will have done what seemed
to you to be the right thing, and I hope that that consciousness will
sustain you, for, believe me, though it may not be at my will, your
brother's life will most certainly answer for mine.”
There was a slight pause. A sob broke from Helen's throat. Even
Philippa's lip quivered.
“Forgive me,” he went on, “if that sounds like a threat. It was not so
meant. It is the simple truth. Let me hurry on to the future. I ask so
little of you. It is my duty to live in this spot for one month. What
harm can I do? You have no great concentration of soldiers here, no
docks, no fortifications, no industry. And in return for the slight
service of allowing me to remain here unmolested, I pledge my word that
Richard shall be set at liberty and shall be here with you within two
months.”
Helen's face was transformed, her eyes glowed, her lips were parted
with eagerness. She turned towards Philippa, her expression, her whole
attitude an epitome of eloquent pleading.
“Philippa, you will not hesitate? You cannot?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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