XI

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XI

Manfred

Manfred sat alone in his Lewisham houseвБ†вАФhe was known to the old lady who was his caretaker as вАЬa foreign gentleman in the music lineвАЭвБ†вАФand in the subdued light of the shaded lamp, he looked tired. A book lay on the table near at hand, and a silver coffee-service and an empty coffee-cup stood on the stool by his side. Reaction he felt. This strange man had set himself to a task that was never ending. The destruction of the forces of the Red Hundred was the end of a fight that cleared the ground for the commencement of anotherвБ†вАФbut physically he was weary.

Gonsalez had left that morning for Paris, Poiccart went by the afternoon train, and he was to join them tomorrow.

The strain of the fight had told on them, all three. Financially, the cost of the war had been heavy, but that strain they could stand better than any other, for had they not the fortune ofвБ†вАФCourlander; in case of need they knew their man.

All the world had been searched before theyвБ†вАФthe first FourвБ†вАФhad come togetherвБ†вАФManfred, Gonsalez, Poiccart, and the man who slept eternally in the flower-grown grave at Bordeaux. As men taking the oaths of priesthood they lived down the passions and frets of life. Each man was an open book to the other, speaking his most secret thought in the faith of sympathy, one dominating thought controlling them all.

They had made the name of the Four Just Men famous or infamous (according to your point of reckoning) throughout the civilized world. They came as a new force into public and private life. There were men, free of the law, who worked misery on their fellows; dreadful human ghouls fattening on the bodies and souls of the innocent and helpless; great magnates calling the law to their aid, or pushing it aside as circumstances demanded. All these became amenable to a new law, a new tribunal. There had grown into being systems which defied correction; corporations beyond chastisement; individuals protected by cunningly drawn legislation, and others who knew to an inch the scope of toleration. In the name of justice, these men struck swiftly, dispassionately, mercilessly. The great swindler, the procureur, the suborner of witnesses, the briber of juriesвБ†вАФthey died.

There was no gradation of punishment: a warning, a second warningвБ†вАФthen death.

Thus their name became a symbol, at which the evildoer went tremblingly about his work, dreading the warning and ready in most cases to heed it. Life became a sweeter, a more wholesome thing for many men who found the thin greenish-grey envelope on their breakfast-table in the morning; but others persisted on their way, loudly invoking the law, which in spirit, if not in letter, they had outraged. The end was very sure, and I do not know of one man who escaped the consequence.

Speculating on their identity, the police of the world decided unanimously upon two points. The first was that these men were enormously richвБ†вАФas indeed they were, and the second that one or two of them were no mean scientistsвБ†вАФthat also was true. Of the fourth man who had joined them recently, speculation took a wider turn. Manfred smiled as he thought of this fourth member, of his honesty, his splendid qualities of heart and brain, his enthusiasm, and his proneness to вАЬlapse from the balanceвАЭвБ†вАФGonsalez coined the phrase. It was an affectionate smile. The fourth man was no longer of the brotherhood; he had gone, the work being completed, and there were other reasons.

So Manfred was musing, till the little clock on the mantelpiece chimed ten, then he lit the spirit-kettle and brewed another cup of coffee. Thus engaged, he heard the faraway tinkle of a bell and the opening of a door. Then a murmur of voices and two steps on the stairs. He did not expect visitors, but he was always prepared for them at any hour.

вАЬCome in,вАЭ he said, in answer to the knock; he recognized the apologetic rap of his housekeeper.

вАЬA ladyвБ†вАФa foreign lady to see you.вАЭ

вАЬShow her in, please,вАЭ he said courteously.

He was busy with the kettle when she came in. He did not look up, nor did he ask who it was. His housekeeper stood a moment uncertain on the threshold, then went out, leaving them together.

вАЬYou will excuse me a moment,вАЭ he said. вАЬPlease sit down.вАЭ

He poured out the coffee with a steady hand, walked to his desk, sorted a number of letters, tossed them into the grate, and stood for a moment watching them burn, then looked at her.

Taking no notice of his invitation, the girl stood waiting at ease, one hand on her hip, the other hanging loosely.

вАЬWonвАЩt you sit down?вАЭ he asked again.

вАЬI prefer to stand,вАЭ she said shortly.

вАЬThen you are not so tired as I am,вАЭ he said, and sank back into the depths of his chair.

She did not reply, and for a few seconds neither spoke.

вАЬHas the Woman of Gratz forgotten that she is an orator?вАЭ he said banteringly. It seemed to him that there was in those eyes of hers a great yearning, and he changed his tone.

вАЬSit down, Maria,вАЭ he said gently. He saw the flush that rose to her cheek, and mistook its significance.

вАЬNo, no!вАЭ he hastened to rectify an impression. вАЬI am serious now, I am not gibingвБ†вАФwhy have you not gone with the others?вАЭ

вАЬI have work to do,вАЭ she said.

He stretched out his hands in a gesture of weariness.

вАЬWork, work, work!вАЭ he said with a bitter smile, вАЬisnвАЩt the work finished? IsnвАЩt there an end to this work of yours?вАЭ

вАЬThe end is at hand,вАЭ she said, and looked at him strangely.

вАЬSit down,вАЭ he commanded, and she took the nearest chair and watched him.

Then she broke the silence.

вАЬWhat are you?вАЭ she asked, with a note of irritation. вАЬWho gave you authority?вАЭ

He laughed.

вАЬWhat am IвБ†вАФjust a man, Maria. Authority? As you understand itвБ†вАФnone.вАЭ

She was thoughtful for a moment.

вАЬYou have not asked me why I have come,вАЭ she said.

вАЬI have not asked myselfвБ†вАФyet it seems natural that you and I should meet againвБ†вАФto part.вАЭ

вАЬWhat do they call youвБ†вАФyour friends?вАЭ she asked suddenly. вАЬDo they say вАШThe man with the beard,вАЩ or вАШThe tall manвАЩвБ†вАФdid any woman ever nurse you and call you by name?вАЭ

A shadow passed over his face for a second.

вАЬYes,вАЭ he said quietly; вАЬI have told you I am human; neither devil nor demigod, no product of sea-foam or witchesвАЩ cauldron,вАЭ he smiled, вАЬbut a son of earthly parentsвБ†вАФand men call me George Manfred.вАЭ

вАЬGeorge,вАЭ she repeated as though learning a lesson. вАЬGeorge Manfred.вАЭ She looked at him long and earnestly, and frowned.

вАЬWhat is it you see that displeases you?вАЭ he asked.

вАЬNothing,вАЭ she said quickly, вАЬonly I amвБ†вАФI cannot understandвБ†вАФyou are differentвБ†вАФвАЭ

вАЬFrom what you expected.вАЭ She bent her head. вАЬYou expected me to air a triumph. To place myself in defence?вАЭ She nodded again.

вАЬNo, no,вАЭ he went on, вАЬthat is finished. I do not pursue a victoryвБ†вАФI am satisfied that the power of your friends is shattered. I disassociate you from the humiliation of their defeat.вАЭ

вАЬI am no better nor worse than they,вАЭ she said defiantly.

вАЬYou will be better when the madness passes,вАЭ he said gravely, вАЬwhen you realize that your young life was not meant for the dreadful sacrifice of anarchy.вАЭ

He leant over and took her listless hand and held it between his palms.

вАЬChild, you must leave this work,вАЭ he said softly, вАЬforget the nightmare of your pastвБ†вАФput it out of your mind, so that you will come to believe that the Red Hundred never existed.вАЭ

She did not draw away her hand, nor did she attempt to check the tears that came to her eyes. Something had entered her soulвБ†вАФan influence that was beyond all description or definition. A wonderful element that had dissolved the thing of granite and steel, that she had fondly thought was her heart, and left her weak and shaking in the process.

вАЬMaria, if you ever knew a motherвАЩs loveвАЭвБ†вАФhow soft his voice wasвБ†вАФвАЬthink of that: have you ever realized what your tiny life was to herвБ†вАФhow she planned and thought and suffered for youвБ†вАФand to what end? That the hands she kissed should be set against menвАЩs lives! Did she pray to God that He might keep you strong in health and pure in soulвБ†вАФonly that His gifts should prove a curse to His beautiful world?вАЭ

With the tenderness of a father he drew her to him, till she was on her knees before him and her weeping face was pressed closely against him.

His strong arms were about her, and his hand smoothed her hair.

вАЬI am a wicked woman,вАЭ she sobbed, вАЬa wicked, wicked woman.вАЭ

вАЬHush,вАЭ he said sadly; вАЬdo not let us take our conception of wickedness from our deeds, but from our intentions, however mistaken, however much they traverse the written law.вАЭ

But her sobbing grew wilder, and she clutched him as though in fear that he would leave her.

He talked to her as though she were a frightened child, chiding her, laughing at her in gentle raillery, and she grew calmer and presently lifted her stained face to his.

вАЬListen,вАЭ she said; вАЬIвБ†вАФIвБ†вАФoh, I cannot, I cannot say it.вАЭ And she buried her face on her breast.

Then with an effort she raised her head again.

вАЬIf I asked youвБ†вАФif I begged you to do something for meвБ†вАФwould you?вАЭ

He looked into her eyes, smiling.

вАЬYou have done many thingsвБ†вАФyou have killedвБ†вАФyesвБ†вАФyes, let me say itвБ†вАФI know I am hurting you, but let me finish.вАЭ

вАЬYes,вАЭ he said simply; вАЬI have killed.вАЭ

вАЬHave youвБ†вАФpitied as you killed?вАЭ

He shook his head.

вАЬYet you would,вАЭ she went on, and her distress moved him, вАЬyou would if you thought that you could kill a body and save a soul.вАЭ

He shook his head again.

вАЬYes, yes,вАЭ she whispered, and tried to speak. Twice she attempted to frame the words, and twice she failed. Then she pushed herself slowly backward with her hands at his chest, and crouched before him with parted lips and heaving bosom.

вАЬKill me,вАЭ she breathed, вАЬfor I have betrayed you to the police.вАЭ

Still he made no sign, sitting there all huddled in the big chair, as though every muscle of his body had relaxed.

вАЬDo you hear?вАЭ she cried fiercely. вАЬI have betrayed you becauseвБ†вАФI thinkвБ†вАФI love youвБ†вАФbut IвБ†вАФI did not know itвБ†вАФI did not know it! I hated you so that I pitied youвБ†вАФand always I thought of you!вАЭ

She knew by the look of pain in his eyes what her words had cost him.

Somehow she defined that the betrayal hurt least.

вАЬI have never said it to myself,вАЭ she whispered; вАЬI have never thought it in my most secret thoughtsвБ†вАФyet it was there, there all the time, waiting for expressionвБ†вАФand I am happier, though you die, and though every hour of my life be a lifetime of pain, I am happier that I have said it, happier than I thought I could ever be.

вАЬI have wondered why I remembered you, and why I thought of you, and why you came into my every dream. I thought it was because I hated you, because I wanted to kill you, and to hold you at my mercyвБ†вАФbut I know now, I know now.вАЭ

She rocked from side to side, clasping her hands in the intensity of her passion.

вАЬYou do not speak?вАЭ she cried. вАЬDo you not understand, beloved? I have handed you over to the police, becauseвБ†вАФO God! because I love you! It must be that I do!вАЭ

He leant forward and held out his hands and she came to him half swooning.

вАЬMarie, child,вАЭ he murmured, and she saw how pale he was, вАЬwe are strangely placed, you and I to talk of love. You must forget this, little girl; let this be the waking point of your bad dream; go forth into the new lifeвБ†вАФinto a life where flowers are, and birds sing, and where rest and peace is.вАЭ

She had no thought now save for his danger.

вАЬThey are below,вАЭ she moaned. вАЬI brought them hereвБ†вАФI guided them.вАЭ

He smiled into her face.

вАЬI knew,вАЭ he said.

She looked at him incredulously.

вАЬYou knew,вАЭ she said, slowly.

вАЬYesвБ†вАФwhen you cameвАЭвБ†вАФhe pointed to the heap of burnt papers in the grateвБ†вАФвАЬI knew.вАЭ

He walked to the window and looked out. What he saw satisfied him.

He came back to where she still crouched on the floor and lifted her to her feet.

She stood unsteadily, but his arm supported her. He was listening, he heard the door open below.

вАЬYou must not think of me,вАЭ he said again.

She shook her head helplessly, and her lips quivered.

вАЬGod bless you and help you,вАЭ he said reverently, and kissed her.

Then he turned to meet Falmouth.

вАЬGeorge Manfred,вАЭ said the officer, and looked at the girl in perplexity.

вАЬThat is my name,вАЭ said Manfred quietly. вАЬYou are Inspector Falmouth.вАЭ

вАЬSuperintendent,вАЭ corrected the other.

вАЬIвАЩm sorry,вАЭ said Manfred.

вАЬI shall take you into custody,вАЭ said Falmouth, вАЬon suspicion of being a member of an organization known as the Four Just Men, and accordingly concerned in the following crimesвБ†вАФвАЭ

вАЬI will excuse you the recital,вАЭ said Manfred pleasantly, and held out his hands. For the first time in his life he felt the cold contact of steel at his wrists.

The man who snapped the handcuffs on was nervous and bungled, and Manfred, after an interested glance at the gyves, lifted his hands.

вАЬThis is not quite fastened,вАЭ he said.

Then as they closed round him, he half turned toward the girl and smiled.

вАЬWho knows how bright are the days in store for us both?вАЭ he said softly.

Then they took him away.