Latest / The Best Short Stories of 1917 / The Knight's Move. By Katharine Fullerton Gerould

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The Knight's Move. By Katharine Fullerton Gerould · The Best Short Stories of 1917

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Section sixteen of the Best Short Stories of nineteen seventeen. This is a LibriVox
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recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or
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to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. The Best Short Stories of nineteen
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seventeen by Varius the Knight's Move by Catharine Fullerton Gerald from The Atlantic Monthly.
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One. Haveloc the Dane settled himself back in his chair and set his feet
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firmly on the oaken table. Chantry let him do it, though some imperceptible
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inch of his body winced, for the oak of it was neither fumed nor
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golden. It was English to its ancient cores, and the table had served
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in the refectory of monks before Henry the Eighth decided that monks shocked him naturally,
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Chantry did not want his friend's boots havocing upon it. But more important
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than to possess the table was to possess it nonchalantly. He let the big
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man dig his heel in. Any man but Haveloc the Dane would have known
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better. But Haveloc did as he pleased, And you either gave him up
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or bore it Chantrey did not want to give him up. Chantry was a
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feminist, a bit of an esthete, but canny at affairs, good looking
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and temperate, and less hipped on the matter of sex than feminist gentlemen are
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wont to be. That is to say, while he vaguely wanted l' mooien
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Saint Cuel to mend his ways, he did not expect him to change fundamentally.
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He rather thought the women would manage all that when they got the vote.
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You see, he was not a socialist, only a feminist. Havelock
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the Dane, on the other hand, was by no means a feminist,
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but was a socialist. What probably brought the two men together, apart from
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their common likableness, was that each, in his way, refused to go
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the whole hog. They sometimes threshed the thing out together, unable to decide
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on a program, but always united at last in their agreement that things were
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wrong. Havelock trusted labor, and Chantry trusted woman. The point was that
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neither trusted men like themselves with a little money and an inherited code of honor.
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Havelock wanted his money taken away from him. Chantri desired his code to
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be trampled on by innumerable feminine feet, but each was rather helpless, for
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both expected these things to be done for them. Except for this tie of
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ineffectuality, they had nothing special in common. Havelock's life had been adventurous in
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the good old fashioned sense, the bars down and a deal of wandering.
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Chantrey had sown so many crops of intellectual wild oats that even the people who
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came for subscriptions might be forgiven for thinking him a mental libertine, good for
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subscriptions and not much else. Between them, they boxed the compass about once
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a week. Havelock had more of what is known as personality than Shantry,
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Chantry more of what is known as culture. They dovetailed on the whole.
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Not bad Havelock this afternoon was full of a story. Shantry wanted to listen,
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though he knew that he could have listened better if Havloc's heel had not
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been quite so ponderous. On the secular oak, he took refuge in a
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cosmic point of view. That was the only point of view from which Havelock.
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It was, by the way, his physical type only that had caused
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him to be nicknamed the Dane. His ancestors had come over from England in
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great discomfort two centuries since. In his blond hugeness became negligible. You had
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to climb very high to see him small. You never did. The man,
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just as Havelock was saying, justice be hanged, replied Chantry, Quite
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so the feminist slogan. A socialist can't afford to throw stones. The retorts
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were spoken sharply on both sides. Then both men laughed. They had too
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often had it out seriously to mind. These little insults were mere convention.
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Gid et your's story, resumed Chantry. I suppose there's a woman in it,
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a nasty cat invented by your own prejudices. There usually is never a
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woman at all. If there were, I shouldn't be asking for your opinion.
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My opinion, of course, is merely the rational one. I don't
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side step the truth because a little drama gets in. I'm appealing to you
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because you are the average man who hasn't seen the light. I honestly want
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to know what you think. There's a reason. What's the reason. I'll
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tell you that later. Now I'll tell you the story. Havelock screwed his
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tawny eyebrows together for a moment before plunging in humph. He ejaculated at last.
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Much good anybody is in a case like this. What did you say
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you thought of Ferguson. I didn't think anything of Ferguson except that he had
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a big brain for biology. He was a loss. No personal opinion.
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I never like people who think so well of themselves as all that. No
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opinion about his death accidental, as they said, I suppose, Oh they
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said it was suicide. I'd tell you suicide. Really. Chantry's brown eyes
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lighted for an instant. Oh, poor Chap, I'm sorry it did not
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occur to him immediately to ask how Havelock knew he trusted. A plain statement
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from Havelock, I'm not, or yes I am. I hate to have
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a man inconsistent. It's inconsistent for anyone to kill himself, but it's frequently
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done. Havelock hemminghen hawing like this was more nearly a bore than Chantry had
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ever known him. Not for Ferguson. Oh well, never mind Ferguson,
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Chantrey yawned, tell me some anecdote out of your tapestry past. I won't
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Havelock dug his heel in harder Chantrial but told him to take his feet down,
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but stopped himself just in time. We'll go on. Then, he
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said, but it doesn't sound interesting. I hate all tales of suicide.
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And there isn't evil woman in it, he sighed maliciously. Oh, if
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it comes to that, there is. But you said, not in it
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exactly unless you go in for post hop Propterhock. Oh, drive on.
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Chantry was pettish, but at that point Havelock the Dane removed his feet from
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the refectory table. He will probably never know why. Chantry just then began
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to be amiable. Excuse me, Havelock. Of course, whatever drove a
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man like Ferguson to suicide is interesting, and I may say he managed it
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awfully well, not a hint anywhere. Well, a scientist ought to get
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something out of it for himself. Ferguson certainly knew. How can't you imagine
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him sitting up there cocking his hair? An odd phrase, but Chantrey understood
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and deciding just how to circumvent the coroner. I can Ferguson hadn't much imagination.
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A coroner doesn't take imagination. He takes a little hard expert knowledge,
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I dare say eh. But Shantry's mind was wandering through other defiles. Odd
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that he should have snatched his life out at the very jaws of what you
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call it once, only to give it up at last politely of his own
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volition. You may well say it. Havelock spoke with more earnestness than he
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had done. If you're not a socialist, when I get through with you,
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Shantry, my boy lord lord, don't tell me your beastly socialism is
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mixed up with it all. I never took to Ferguson, but he was
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no syndicalist in life or in death. I'd swear to that. Ah No,
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if he had been. But all I mean is that in a properly
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regulated state, Ferguson's tragedy would not have occurred. So it was a tragedy.
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He was a loss to the state. God knows. Had they been
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speaking of anything less dignified than death and genius, Havelock might have sounded a
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little austere and silly as it was. Chantry bit back and swallowed his censure.
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That's why I want to know what you think went on, Havelock irrelevantly
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whether your damned coat of honor is worth Ferguson, it's not my damned coat
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any more than yours. Broke in chantry, Yes it is, or at
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least we break it down at different points theoretically. Actually, we walk all
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around it every day to be sure it's intact. Let's be honest, honest
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as you like. If you'll only come to the point. Huh, but
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it's hot, let's have a gin fizz. You aren't serious. Havelock seemed
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to try to lash himself into a rage, but he was so big that
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he could never have got all of himself into a rage at once. You
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felt that only part of him was angry, his toes perhaps, or his
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complexion. Shantry rang for ice and lemon, and took gin, sugar and
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a siphon out of a carved cabinet. Go slow, he said, He
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himself was going very slow with a beautiful crystal decanter, which he set lovingly
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on the oaken table. Go slow, he repeated, more easily, when
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he had set it down. I can think just as well with a gin
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fizz as without one. And I didn't know Ferguson well, and I didn't
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like him at all. I read his books and I admired him. But
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he looked like the devil. The devil, you'll notice, not a devil
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with the dash of Charles first by van Dyke, the one standing by a
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horse. As you say, he cocked his hair. It went into little
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horns above his try brow. I'm sorry he's lost to the world, but
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it doesn't get me. He may have been a saint for all I know,
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But there you are. I never cared particularly to know I am serious.
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Only somehow it doesn't touch me. And he proceeded to make use of
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crushed ice and lemon juice. Ah blow all that, said Havelock the Dane,
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finally, over the top of his glass. I'm going to tell you
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anyhow, only I wish you would forget your prejudices. I want an opinion.
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Go on, Chantrey made himself comfortable. Two. You remember the time
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when Ferguson didn't go down on the Argentina. I do. Ferguson just wouldn't
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go down. You know, he'd turn up smiling without even a chill,
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And meanwhile, lots of good fellows would be at the bottom of the sea.
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Prejudice again, barked Havelock. Yet in point of fact, it's perfectly
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true, and you would have preferred him to drown. I was very glad
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he was saved. Chantry said it in a stilted manner. Why because his
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life was really important to the world. Chantry might have been distributing tracts.
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His very voice sounded falsetto exactly. Well, that is what Ferguson thought.
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How do you know he told me you must have known him. Well,
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thank heaven, I never did Havelock flung out a huge hand. Oh,
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get off that ridiculous animal you riding, Chantrey, and come to the point.
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You mean you don't think Ferguson should have admitted it. Chantry's tone changed,
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Well, one doesn't. The huge hand plunged into a fist, came
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down on the table. The crystal bottle was too heavy to rock, but
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the glasses jingled, and a spoon slid over the edge of its saucer.
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There it is what I was looking for. What were you looking for?
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Chantry's wonder was not feigned for Your hydra headed prejudice makes me want to play
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hercules. Oh drop your metaphors, have a look, get into the game.
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What is it it's this that you don't think or affect not to think
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that it's decent for a man to recognize his own worth. Chantry did not
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retort. He dropped his chin on his chest and thought for a moment,
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and he spoke very quietly and apologetically. Well, I don't see you telling
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another man how wonderful you are. Tisn't immoral. It simply isn't manners.
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And if Ferguson boasted to you that he was saved when so many went down,
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it was worse than bad manners to have been kicked for it is the
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kind of phenomenal luck that it would have been decent to regret. Haloc set
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his massive lips firmly together. You could not say that he pursed that cyclopean
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mouth. Ferguson did not boast. He merely told me he was I think
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a modest man. Incredulity beyond any power of laughter to express, settled on
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Shantry's countenance, modest, And he told you the whole thing. Haloc's voice
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was heavy enough for tragedy. Listen, don't interrupt me. Once Ferguson told
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me that when the explosion came, he looked round, considered for fully a
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minute his duty. He never lost control of himself once, he said,
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and I believe him. The Argentina was a small boat making a winter passage.
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There were very few cabin passengers, no second cabin, but plenty of
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steerage. She sailed, you remember from Naples. He'd been doing some work,
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some very important work in the aquarium. The only other person, of
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consequence, I am speaking in the most literal and unsnobbish sense, in the
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first cabin was Benson. No with the lifted hand, don't interrupt me.
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Benson, as we all know, was an international figure. But Benson was
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getting old. His son could be trusted to carry on the house of Benson.
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In fact, every one suspected that the Sun had become more important than
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the old man. He had put through the last big loan while his father
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was taking a rest cure in Italy. That is how Benson Pere happened to
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be on the Argentina. The newspapers never sufficiently accounted for that a private deck
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on the schrecklich Kite would have been more his size. Ferguson made it out.
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The old man got wild suddenly at the notion of their putting anything through
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without him. He trusted his gouty bones to the Argentina. Sounds plausible,
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but Shantry broke in. If you interrupted gains had have, I'll hit you
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with all the strength I've got. Shantry granted you had to take Halock the
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Dane as you found him. Ferguson saw the whole thing clear. Old Benson
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had just gone into the smoking room. Ferguson was on the deck outside his
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own stateroom. The only person on board who could possibly be considered as important
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as Ferguson was Benson, and he had good reason to believe that every one
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would get on well enough without Benson. He had just time then to put
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on a life preserver, melt into his stateroom, and get a little pile
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of notes, very important ones, and drop into a boat. No,
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don't interrupt. I know what you're going to say, women and children.
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What do you suppose a lot of Neapolitan peasants meant to Ferguson or to you
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and me either. He didn't do anything outrageous, He just dropped into a
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boat. As a result, we had the Big Book a year later.
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No again, crushing down a gesture of Shantry's don't say anything about the inci
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of a gentleman. If Ferguson hadn't been perfectly cool, his instincts would have
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governed him. He would have dashed about trying to save people and then met
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the ways with a noble gesture. He had time to be reasonable, not
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instinctive. The world was the gainer, as he jolly well knew it would
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be, or where would have been the reasonableness. I don't believe Ferguson cared
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to hang about keeping his individual machine going for its own sake, but he
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knew he was a valuable person. His mind was a koeinur among mines.
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It stands to reason that you saved the koi nur and let the little stones
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go. Well, that's not the story. Only I wanted to get that
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out of the way first, or the story wouldn't have meant anything. Did
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you wish? He finished graciously to ask a question, Chantry made a violent
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gesture of denial. Ask a question about a hog like that? God forbid?
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Mm Caveloc seemed to amuse within himself. You will admit that if a
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jury of impartial men of sense could have sat just then on that slanting deck,
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they would have agreed that Ferguson's life was worth more to the world than
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all the rest of the boiling put together. Yes, but well, there
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wasn't any jury. Ferguson had to be it. I am perfectly sure that
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if there had been a super Ferguson on board, our Ferguson would have turned
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his hand to saving him first. In fact, I honestly believe he was
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sorry there hadn't been a super Ferguson, for he had all the instincts of
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a gentleman, and it's never a pleasant job making your reason inhibit your instincts.
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You can't look at this thing perfectly straight probably, but if you can't,
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who can. I don't happen to want an enlightened opinion. I've got
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one right here at home. You won't care about the state. You want
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to put it into white petticoats and see it cross a muddy street. I
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don't wonder the socialists won't have anything to do with you because I'm not a
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feminist. I know, just as the feminists won't have anything to do with
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you because you're so reactionary. We're both out of it. Fifty years ago,
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either of us could have been a real profit for the price of a
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haul and cleaning the rotten eggs off our clothes. Now we're too timid for
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any use. But this is a digression distinctly. Is there anything more about
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Ferguson? I should say there was about a year ago he became engaged.
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She's a very nice girl, and I'm sure you'd never heard of her.
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The engagement wasn't to be announced until just before the marriage, for family reasons
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of some sort, conquering the older generation. Somehow I've forgotten. It's not
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important, but they would have been married by now if Ferguson hadn't stepped out.
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You seem to have been very intimate with Ferguson. He talked to me
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once, just once. The girl was a distant connection of my own.
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I think that was why. Now I've got some more things to tell you.
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I've let you interrupt a good lot, and if you're through, i'd
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like to start in on the next lap. It isn't easy for me to
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tell this thing in It's an effort. Cavelot the Danes set down his second
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emptied glass and drew a long breath. He proceeded with quickened pace. Three.
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He didn't see the girl very often she lives at some little distance.
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He was busy, you know, how he worked, and she was chained
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at home. More or less. Occasionally he slipped away for a weekend to
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see her. One time, the last time, about two months ago,
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he managed to get in a whole week. It was as near happiness as
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Ferguson ever got, I imagine, for they were able to fix a date.
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Good heaven, how he loved that girl. Just before he went he
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told me of the engagement. I barely knew her, but as I said,
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she's some sort of kin. And after he came back, he sent
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for me to come and see him. I didn't like his cheek, but
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I went as though i'd been a laboratory boy. I'm not like you.
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Ferguson always did get me. He wanted the greatest good, of the greatest
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number. Nothing petty about him. He was a big man. I went
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as I say, and Ferguson told me the very first thing that the engagement
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was off. He began by cocking his hair a good deal, but he
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almost lost control of himself. He didn't cock it long, he ruffled it
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instead with his hands. I thought he was in a queer state, for
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he seemed to want to give me with his beautiful scientific precision, as if
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he'd been preparing a slide the details of a country walk he and she had
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taken the day before he left. It began with grade crossings, and I
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simply couldn't imagine what he was getting at. It wasn't his business to fight
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grade crossings, though they might be a very pretty symbol for the kind of
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thing he was fighting tooth and nail all the time. I couldn't seem to
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see it at first, but finally it came out. There was a grade
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crossing with a look out for the engine sign, and there was a tow
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headed infant in rags. They had noticed the infant before. It had bandy
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legs and granulated eyelids and seemed to be dumb. It had started them off
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on eugenics. She he was very keen on the subject. Ferguson, being
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a big scientist, had some reserves twas a real argument. Then everything happened
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at once. Tow head with the sore eyes, rocked onto the track simultaneously
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with the whistle. They were about fifty yards off. Ferguson sprinted back down
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the hill, the girl screaming pointlessly. Meanwhile, there was just time.
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You'll have to take my word for this. Ferguson explained it all to me
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in the most particulous detail, But I can't repeat the masterpiece of exposition.
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For Ferguson to decide to decide again. You understand precisely as he had decided
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on the Argentina rotten luck, wasn't it. He could have just flung toe
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Head out of the way by getting under the engine himself. He grabbed for
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toe Head, but he didn't roll on to the track, so tow Head
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was killed. If he had got there ten seconds earlier, he could have
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done the trick. He was ten seconds too late to save both Ferguson and
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Toehad, So once more he saved Ferguson. Do you get the situation?
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I should say I did shouted Shantry twice in a man's life, Good Lord.
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I hope he walked out of his house at that point. I didn't.
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I was very much interested. And by the way, Shantry, if
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Ferguson had given his life for Towhead, you would have been the first man
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to write a pleasant little article for some damned highbrower of you to prove that
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it was utterly wrong that Ferguson should have exchanged his life for that of a
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little Polish defective I could even see you talking about the greatest good of the
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greatest number. You would have loved the paradox of it, the mistaken martyr
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self preservation, the greatest altruism, and all the rest of it. But
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because Ferguson did exactly what you would have said in your article that he ought
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to have done, you are in a state of virtuous chill. I should
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have written no such article. I don't see how you can be so flippant,
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flippant. I have I the figure of a flippant man. Can't you
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see, honestly now, can't you see see that it was a hideous misfortune
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for that situation to come to Ferguson twice? Can't you see that it was
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about as hard luck as a man ever had look at it just once from
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his point of view? I can't, said Shantry, frankly. I can
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understand a man's being a coward saving his own skin because he wants to,
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But to save his own skin on principle, humph. Talk of paradoxes,
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there's one for you. There's not a principle on earth that tells you to
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save your own life at some one else's expense. If he thought it was
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principle, he was the bigger defective of the two. Of course he would
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have been a pity. Of course we should all have regretted it. But
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there's not a human being in this town, high or low, who wouldn't
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have applauded with whatever regret, who wouldn't have said he did the only thing
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a self respecting man could do. Of course, it's a shame, but
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that is the only way the race has ever got on, by the strong
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because they were strong, going under for the weak because they were weak.
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Otherwise we'd all be living to this day in hell. I know, I
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know Havelock's voice was touched with emotion. That's the convention invented by individualists for
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individualists. All sorts of people would see it that way. Still, But
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you've got more sense than most, and I will make you at least see
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the other point of view. Suppose Ferguson to have been a good Catholic or
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a soldier in the ranks. If his confessor or his commanding officer told him
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to save his own skin, you'd consider Ferguson justified. You might even consider
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the priest or the officer justified. The one thing you can't stand is the
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man's giving himself those orders. But let's not argue it over it now,
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let's go back to the story. I'll make you get Ferguson anyhow, even
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if I can't make him get you. Well, here comes in the girl,
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and you said there was no girl in it. Chantry could not resist
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that. He believed that Havelock's assertion had been made only because he didn't want
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the girl in it, resented her being there. There isn't as I see
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it, replied Havelot the Dane quietly. From my point of view, the
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story is over. Ferguson's decision, that is, the whole thing made more
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interesting, more valuable because of the repetition of the thing, proves beyond a
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doubt that he acted on principle, not on impulse. If he had flung
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himself into the lifeboat because he was a coward, he would have been ashamed
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of it, and whatever he might have done afterwards, he would never have
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done that thing again. He would have been sensitive. Not saving his own
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life would have turned into an obsession with him but there is left. I
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admit the murder, and murders always take the public. So I'll give you
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the murder, though it throws no light on Ferguson, who is the only
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thing in the whole accursed affair that really counts. The murder I don't see.
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Unless you mean the murdering of the tow headed child. I mean the
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murder of Ferguson by the girl he loved. You said, suicide a little
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while ago, panted Chantry. Technically, yes, she was a hundred miles
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away when it happened, but she did it just the same. Oh,
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I suppose I've got to tell you as Ferguson told me. Did he tell
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you he was going to kill himself? Chantry's voice was sharp. He did
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not. Ferguson wasn't a fool, But it was plain as day to me
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after it happened that he had done it himself. How I'm telling you this?
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Am? I not? Let me tell it? Then the thing happened
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in no time, of course, the girl got over, screaming and ran
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down to the track, frightened out of her wits. The train managed to
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stop about twice its own length further down round a bend in the track,
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and the conductor and brakeman came running back. The mother came out of her
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hovel carrying twins, that the thing was on the track across the rails.
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It was a beastly mess. And Ferguson got the girl away, set her
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down to cry in a pasture, and then went back and helped out,
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and gave his testimony and left money, a lot of it with the mother,
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and all the rest. You can imagine it. No one there considered
26:00
that Ferguson ought to have saved the child. No one but Ferguson dreamed that
26:03
he could have. Indeed, an ordinary man in Ferguson's place wouldn't have supposed
26:08
he could. It was only that brain, working like lightning, working as
26:12
no plain man's could, that had made the calculation unseen. There were no
26:17
preliminary seconds lost in surprise or shock. You see, Ferguson's mind hadn't been
26:22
jarred from its place for an instant. The thing had happened too quickly for
26:26
any one except Ferguson to understand what was going on. Therefore he ought to
26:30
have laid that supernormal brain under the wheels. Of course, Ferguson was so
26:37
sane himself that he couldn't understand, even after he'd been engaged six months,
26:41
our little every day madnesses. It never occurred to him when he got back
26:45
to the girl and she began all sorts of hysterical questions, not to answer
26:51
them straight. It was by way of describing the event simply that he informed
26:55
her that he would have just had time to pull the creature out, but
26:59
not enough to pull himself back afterwards. Ferguson was used to calculating things in
27:04
millions of an inch. She wasn't, I dare say the single second that
27:10
had given Ferguson time to turn round in his mind, she conceived of as
27:14
a minute. At least, It would have taken her a week to turn
27:17
round in her own mind, no doubt, a month, a year perhaps,
27:21
how do I know? But she got the essential fact that Ferguson had
27:25
made a choice. Then she rounded on him. It would have killed her
27:29
to lose him, but she would rather have lost him than to see him
27:32
standing before her, et cetera, et cetera. Ferguson quoted a lot of
27:36
her talk straight to me, and I can remember it, but you needn't
27:40
ask me to soil my mouth with it. And half an hour before she'd
27:42
been saying, with a good deal of heat that that little rerunt ought never
27:47
to have been born, and that if we had decent laws, it never
27:49
would have been allowed to live. Ferguson said that to me with a kind
27:53
of bewilderment. You see, he had made the mistake of taking that little
27:57
fool seriously. Well, he loved her. You can't go below that.
28:03
That's rock bottom. Ferguson couldn't dig any deeper down for his way out.
28:07
There was no deeper down. Apparently Ferguson still thought he could argue it out
28:12
with her. She so believed in eugenics, you see, a very radical
28:17
compared with Ferguson. Twas she who had had no doubt about Towhead, and
28:22
the love part of it seemed to him fixed. It didn't occur to him
28:26
that that was debatable. So he stuck to something that could be discussed then,
28:32
And this was his moment of exceeding folly. He caught at the old
28:34
episode of the Argentina that had nothing to do with her present state of shock.
28:40
She had seen Towhead, but she hadn't seen the sprinkled Mediterranean, and
28:45
she had accepted that. At least she had spoken of his survival as though
28:48
it had been one of the few times when God had done precisely the right
28:52
thing. So he took that to explain with the fool, the reasonable fool.
28:59
Then oh, then she went wild. Yet she must have known there
29:03
were a thousand chances on the Argentina for him to throw his life away in
29:07
precious few to save it. She backed up against a tree and stretched her
29:11
arms out Like this, Havlock made a clumsy stage gesture of aversion from Chantry
29:15
the villain, and for an instant he thought she was afraid of a Jersey
29:21
cow that had come up to take part in the discussion, so he threw
29:23
a twig at its nose. Four Chantry's wonder grew, swelled and burst.
29:33
Do you mean to say that the safety deposit vault of a Ferguson told you
29:37
all this as I'm telling it to you, only much more detail, of
29:41
course, and much much faster. It wasn't like a story at all.
29:45
It was like a hemorrhage. I didn't interrupt him, as you've been interrupting
29:48
me. Well, the upshot of it was that she spurned him quite in
29:52
the grand manner. She found the opposites of all the nice things she'd been
29:56
saying for six months, and said them, Ferguson, your cocky. Ferguson
30:02
stood and listened until she had talked herself out, and then went away.
30:06
He never saw her again, and when he sent for me, he had
30:08
made up his mind that she never intended to take any of it back,
30:12
so he stepped out. I tell you, as hard hit as that,
30:17
chantry mused, Just as hard hit as that Ferguson had had no previous affairs.
30:22
She was very literally the one woman, and he managed at forty to
30:26
combine the illusions of the boy of twenty and the man of sixty. But
30:30
he thought he was so precious to the world. Wasn't it more than ever
30:34
his duty to preserve his existence. He could see other people die in his
30:38
place, but he couldn't see himself bucking up against a broken heart. Isn't
30:42
that what the strong man does, lives out his life when he doesn't at
30:47
all like the look of it. Say what you like. He was a
30:49
coward havelock at the last. Anyhow, I won't ask for your opinion just
30:55
yet. Thank you. Perhaps if Ferguson had been sure he would ever do
31:00
good work again, he wouldn't have taken himself off. That might have held
31:03
him. He might have stuck by on the chance. But I doubt it,
31:07
don't you See? He loved the girl too much, thought he couldn't
31:11
live without her, snorted Chantry. Oh no, not that. But if
31:15
she was right, he was the meanest skunk alive. He owed the world
31:21
at least two deaths. So to speak. The only approach you can make
31:25
to dying twice is to die in your prime of your own volition. Have
31:29
luck. Spoke very slowly. At least that's the way I've worked it out.
31:33
He didn't say so. He was careful as a cat. You think
31:37
Chanty leaned forward, very eager at last that he decided she was right,
31:41
that I'm right, That were all of us right? Havelok. The Dame
31:47
bowed his head in his huge hands. No, if you ask me,
31:51
I think he kept his own opinion untarnished to the end. When I told
31:56
him I thought he was right, he just nodded, as if one took
31:59
that for grant. But it didn't matter to him. I'm pretty sure that
32:02
he cared only what she thought. If he didn't agree with her, and
32:07
if she treated him like a criminal, he must have despised her. In
32:12
that case, he never said one word of her, bar quoting some of
32:15
her words that wasn't utterly gentle. You could see that he loved her with
32:20
his whole soul. And it's my belief he gave her the benefit of the
32:23
doubt in killing himself. He acted on the hypothesis that she had been right.
32:29
Was the only thing he could do for her. But if no one
32:31
except you thinks it was suicide and you can't prove it, oh, he
32:37
had to take that chance, the chance of her never knowing or else create
32:40
a scandal, and that would have been very hard on her and on his
32:45
family. But there were straws she could easily clutch at as I have clutched
32:49
at them. The perfect order in which everything happened to be left, even
32:52
the last notes he'd made. His laboratory was a scientist's paradise, they tell
32:58
me. And the will made off she threw him over, leaving everything to
33:01
her, not a letter unanswered, all little bills paid in the little debts
33:06
liquidated. He came as near suggesting it as he could in decency. But
33:10
I dare say she will never guess it. Then what did it profit him?
33:15
It didn't profit him in your sense. He took a very long chance
33:20
on her guessing That wasn't what concerned him. I hope she will never guess
33:25
anyhow. It would ruin her life to no good end. Oh No,
33:30
Havelock was firm. I doubt if she would take it that way. If
33:34
she grasped it at all, she'd believe he thought her right. And if
33:37
he thought her right, of course, he wouldn't want to live, would
33:40
he. She would never think he killed himself simply for love of her?
33:45
Why not? Well, she wouldn't. She wouldn't be capable to conceive of
33:51
Ferguson's killing himself merely for that, with his notions about survival, as he
33:55
did as he did and didn't Ah, she'd scarcely refine on it. As
34:01
you're doing, Havelock, you're amazing. Well. He certainly never expected her
34:07
to know that he did it himself. If he had been the sort of
34:09
weakling that dies because he can't have a particular woman, he'd have been also
34:14
the sort of weakling that leaves a letter explaining what then did he die for
34:20
You'll have to explain to me. Not because he couldn't have her, Not
34:23
because he felt guilty. Why then, you haven't left him a motive?
34:29
Oh haven't I the most beautiful motive in the whole world, my dear fellow,
34:32
A motive that puts all your little simple motives in the shade. Well,
34:37
what don't you see? Why I told you? He simply assumed,
34:44
for all practical purposes that she had been right. He gave himself the fate.
34:47
He knew she considered him to deserve. He preferred loving her as he
34:52
did, to do what she would have had him do. He knew she
34:57
was wrong, but he knew also that she was made that way, and
35:00
that she would never be right. And he took her for what she was
35:04
and loved her as she was. His love, don't you see? Was
35:07
too big. He couldn't revolt from her. She had the whole of him,
35:12
except perhaps his excellent judgment. He couldn't drag about a life which she
35:16
felt that way about. He destroyed it, as he would have destroyed anything
35:22
she found loathsome he was merely justifying himself to his love. He couldn't hope
35:29
she would know nor I believe could he have lied to her, That is,
35:32
he couldn't have admitted in words that she was right when he felt her
35:36
so absolutely wrong, But he could make that magnificent, silent act of faith.
35:42
Chantry still held out, I don't believe he did it. I hold
35:46
with the coroner. I don't. He came as near telling me as he
35:51
could without making me an accessory. Before the fact, there were none of
35:55
the loose ends that the most orderly man would leave if he died. Suddenly,
36:00
take my word for it, old man. A long look passed between
36:04
them, each seemed to be trying to find out with his eyes something that
36:07
words had not helped him to. Finally, Chantry protested once more, but
36:13
Ferguson couldn't love like that, Halok, the Dane laid one hand on the
36:17
arm of Chantry's chair and spoke sternly. He not only could, but did.
36:22
And there I am a better authority than you think what you please,
36:27
But I will not have that fact challenged. Perhaps you could count up on
36:30
your fingers the women who are loved like that, But anyhow, she was
36:37
my second cousin. Once removed dammer. He ended with a vicious twang.
36:43
And now, Havlock rose, i'd like your opinion about what. Well,
36:50
can't you see the beautiful sanity of Ferguson? No, I can't, snapped
36:54
Chantry. I think he was wrong, both in the beginning and in the
36:59
end. But I will admit he was not a coward. I respect him,
37:04
but I do not think at any point he was right, except perhaps
37:07
in doing the coroner. That settles it, then, said Havoc, and
37:12
he started towards the door. Settles what in Heaven's name what I came to
37:16
have settled? I sha'n't tell her if I could have got one other decent
37:22
citizen. And I confess you were my only chance to agree with me that
37:25
Ferguson was right right about his fellow passengers on the Argentina write about tow head
37:31
on the track. I'd have gone to her. I think I'd rather like
37:36
to ruin her life if I could. A great conviction approached Chantry. Just
37:40
then he felt the rush of it through his brain. No, he cried,
37:45
Ferguson loved her too much. He wouldn't like that, not as you'd
37:50
put it to her. Haveloc thought a moment. No, he said in
37:54
his turn, But his no was very humble. He wouldn't I shall,
38:00
I'll never do it, But my god, how I wanted to. And
38:02
I'll tell you another thing too. Chantry's tone was curious. You may agree
38:07
with Ferguson all you like, You may admire him as much as you say,
38:12
But you Havelock would never have done what he did, not even he
38:15
lifted a hand against interruption. If you knew you had the brain you think
38:20
Ferguson had, you'd have been at the bottom of the sea or under the
38:23
engine wheels. And you know it. He folded his arms with a hint
38:28
of truculence. But Havelock, the Dane, to Shantry's surprise, was meek.
38:32
Yes, he said, I know it. Now let me out of
38:36
here. Well. Then Chantry's voice rang out triumphant. What does that prove
38:42
prove? Havelock's great fist crashed down on the table. It proves that Ferguson's
38:49
a better man than either of us. I can think straight, But he
38:52
had the sand to act straight. You haven't even the sand to think straight.
38:58
You and your reactionary rot. The world's moving Chantry. Ferguson was ahead
39:02
of it, beckoning you're an aunt that got caught in the machinery. I
39:07
shouldn't wonder, Oh, stow the rhetoric. We simply don't agree. It's
39:13
happened before. Chantrey laughed scornfully. I tell you I respect him, but
39:17
God Almighty wouldn't make me agree with him. You're too medieval by half,
39:22
Havelock mused. Now, Ferguson was a knight of the future, a knight
39:28
of humanity. Don't shouted Chantry. His nerves were beginning to feel the strain.
39:35
Leave chivalry out of it. The Argentina business may or may not have
39:38
been wisdom, but it certainly wasn't cricket, no, said Havelock. Chess.
39:44
Rather the game where chance hasn't a show, the game of the intelligent
39:47
future. That very irregular and disconcerting move of his, and he got taken.
39:53
You might say she's an irresponsible beast. Your queen drop it, will
39:58
you, then, Shantry. He pulled himself together, a little ashamed.
40:01
It's fearfully late. Better stop and dine, No thanks. The big man
40:07
opened the door of the room and rested a foot on the threshold. I
40:10
feel like dining with some one who appreciates Ferguson. I don't know where you'll
40:15
find him. Shantry smiled and shook hands. Oh, I carry him about
40:20
with me. Good night, said Havlock the Dane end of Section sixteen,
40:27
ed by Sandra