The Men Who Wrought
Father and son sat silently listening to the easy, brief manner of the man's explanation. Nor was it till he spoke of the futility of a war submarine's efforts against his submersible did any note of passion and triumph find its way into the man's manner. At that point, however, a definite uplifting made itself apparent. His triumph was in the new depth vibrating in his musical voice. There was a light in his eyes such as is to be found in the triumphant gaze of the victor.
Ruxton beheld these things with greater understanding than his father. Moreover, he interpreted them with that sympathetic understanding of one who possesses great ideals of his own. Whoever this man might be, wherever he came from, one thing was beyond all question in his mind. Here was no mere huckster seeking to trade his wares for the sole purpose of gain. Gain might be his object, but somehow he felt that it was not wholly so, not even paramount in his consideration. It seemed to him that the man had spoken the truth when he had said that his efforts were directed in the service of humanity.
But for all his understanding he had no intention of accepting his own reading without proof from the only direction in which proof could come.
"And what is the commercial aspect of the matter – between us?" he enquired in his most businesslike tone.
Mr. Smith looked up in a startled way from the deep reverie into which his own words had plunged him.
"Commercial?" he echoed a little helplessly.
"Yes." Ruxton smiled. "The – price."
Mr. Smith nodded readily and smiled back. But his reply carried no conviction.
"Yes, yes," he said hurriedly. "I was thinking. Of course – yes. The price."
His infantile manner brought a smile to the shrewd face of Sir Andrew. Ruxton only waited.
"I – had forgotten," Mr. Smith went on. Then, with his curious tenacious hands clasped about one knee, a hopeless sort of distress slowly filled his eyes. "It – it is difficult," he stumbled. Then quite suddenly a world of relief seemed to come to him. "Would it not be better to leave terms until you have seen, and proved for yourselves, of what my constructed vessel is capable? You see, any price I could name now would sound – er – excessive."
The manner of this strange creature was so delightfully naive that even the keen Yorkshire features of Sir Andrew were reduced to a smile of enjoyment.
"That's the way I like to hear an inventor talk, Mr. Smith," he cried heartily. "Most of 'em want large sums in options on the bare model and registered patents. If your invention – the constructed vessel is capable of what you claim for it, it is worth – millions."
But the millionaire's encouragement seemed to have an adverse effect upon the inventor. Trouble crept again into his eyes, and he passed one thin hand across his splendid forehead.
"If it serves to save innocent lives in the future, sir, it has done all that I ask of it," he said at last. "Its value to me then could never be reckoned in millions. There would not be enough cyphers in the mind of man to express that value."
To Ruxton the riddle of this man was growing in obscurity. For all his understanding Mr. Smith's attitude demanded explanation which as yet he was unable to give it.
But something in the nature of solution to the riddle was nearer than he had supposed. It came in the man's words which were added in further reply to his father.
"I have no fear but my invention will do these things," he said with strong conviction. "But," he added almost sombrely, "I have other fears."
"Others?"
The commercial mind of Sir Andrew was sharply suspicious.
"Yes."
Again came that troubled movement of the hand across the forehead. The man hesitated in a painful, embarrassed way. Then, with a perfectly helpless gesture, he blurted out something of that which Ruxton had been waiting for.
"Yes, yes," he cried, his eyes full of a passionate light. "I have fears, other fears. Nor are they idle. Nor are they to be belittled. I came here in secret. No one but my two confidential men, who brought this model, know of my coming. No one knows my whereabouts at all, but you, and those two men whom I can trust – even with my life. Fears. My God, if you only knew. I tell you there are people in the world, if they knew of my visit to you, if they saw that model lying on your table, who would not rest until my life was forfeited, and the utility of my invention to this country was destroyed forever."
The man stood up. His great height was drawn up to its uttermost. He was breathing hard, but the light in his eyes was not of the fear of which he spoke. They were burning with a strained defiance of that threat he knew to be hanging over him.
The others rose from their chairs simultaneously. Both were startled. But Sir Andrew far more than his son. Startlingly as the revelation had come, to Ruxton it was revelation. And now it was he who took the initiative. He leant across the table.
"I think I understand something that has been puzzling me all the evening, Mr. – Smith," he said. "And now that I understand it I am satisfied. You have come to us to-day at great danger to yourself. You are risking everything in the world that we shall have the benefit of your invention. The last thought in your mind is the commercial aspect of this affair. Your real object in coming is your secret for the present. I might even hazard a guess at it. But it is your secret, and one we have no desire to probe. You desire a pledge from us. That is obvious. And for myself I give it freely. Your secret is safe with me – safe as the grave. I shall avail myself of your offer of a trip in your submersible, and, if you will permit me, I shall make my own time for it in the near future. Will you allow me that privilege?"
The inventor impulsively held out his hand, and his relief was obvious and intense. It was almost as if he had feared the result of his revelation.
"Your wishes are entirely mine," he said, as Ruxton wrung his hand. "It was this necessity for secrecy which has troubled me. I did not think you would accept it. And – I feared the shattering of all my hopes." He turned to Sir Andrew, who stood watching the scene wonderingly.
"And you, sir?" he asked, with extended hand. "Have I your word?"
"Absolutely, sir."
The bluff tone, and the grip of the Yorkshire hand, had its prompt effect.
"I need no more."
The man proceeded to close up his model.
"And for communicating with you?" demanded Ruxton.
Mr. Smith looked up.
"The same address. Veevee, London. It will always find me."
"Thank you."
Two hours later Ruxton and his father were alone in the library. The inventor had gone, and his precious model had been carefully removed by the two men who had conveyed it to Dorby Towers. For those two hours Sir Andrew and his son had thrashed threadbare the situation created by the stranger's coming. And, incredible as it seemed, in the minds of both men was a steady conviction that the work of that evening was to mark an epoch in the history of their country.
The possibilities were of a staggering nature. Neither could probe the future under this new aspect. If this new principle of ocean traffic were to – But it was "if." If the man were honest. If the invention were right. If – if, and again – if. That was it. And so they had talked it out.
Now it was time to seek that rest which Ruxton sorely needed. His had been a strenuous day, and he knew he must return to town to-morrow. He rose and stretched himself.
"Well, Dad, it's bed for me," he said, in the midst of a yawn.
His father looked up from his final cigar, which was poised in his hand.
"Yes. You must be tired, boy. There's one thing, though, about that man, that's occurred to me," he added, his mind still dwelling on the subject of their long discussion. "Did you notice his speech? He didn't sound to me English, and yet there – was no real accent."
Ruxton laughed.
"I wondered if that had escaped you." Then his eyes grew serious. "No, he isn't an Englishman. He isn't even Dutch. That I am sure of. But his nationality – no, I cannot say."
"No. It's a difficult matter with these foreigners."
"Yes. But if I can't locate his nationality I am certain of a very important fact."
"And that is?"
"He belongs to – Germany."
CHAPTER V
THE LURE
That Ruxton Farlow was a creature of destiny rather than a man who wrought only through the force of his own self-guidance was extraordinarily apparent. The purpose of his life filled his whole being. It was all of him, a dim light in the mist and fog of the future, ever encouraging onwards, yet yielding to him no vision of the path by which it might be the more easily reached. It was his lot to flounder on, frequently stumbling and yawning as the conformation and obscurities of the road compelled, but every step, every stumble, every bruise and buffet, added to the sum of progress achieved and pointed the unyielding nature which inspired his set purpose of reaching that ray of light beyond.
The coming into his life of the woman who called herself Vita Vladimir was an incident in his progress of far greater significance that even he had dreamed. Whither it inclined his footsteps he knew not. All he knew was that, almost in a moment, she had become definitely linked up with his future through a bond, the meaning of which even he had no full understanding of. All he knew was that she had some great bearing upon the ultimate, and that it was his desire to follow blindly the track she had opened up before him.
Nor had he any delusion as to his desire. There was not the smallest doubt but that her attraction had influenced his decision. He had listened to her words with a brain inspired by the warmth of the manhood within him, which her extraordinary beauty had stirred as it had never been stirred before.
It was in answer to this feeling that he left Yorkshire at the earliest opportunity, and hastened back to town. He merely gave himself time to change and hold a brief consultation with his secretary. Then he set out in search of the rather obscure little flat in Kensington.
His mind was perfectly clear as to the object of this visit. Just as he perfectly understood that even without that object it would have been his desire to make it. He wished to give this woman an answer to her request. He wished to fathom the manner by which she had learned of his promotion. And, apart from these things, he desired ardently to see her again. The recollection of that moonlit figure was a sharp negative on the photographic plates of memory, and he was anxious to study the original in the full light of day. Her undoubted beauty, and the romance of their first meeting, had left behind them an irresistible attraction; nor had he any desire to resist it.
His position in the world as the only son and partner of the greatest among the ship-owners of Britain, his political career, and his position as under-secretary in the Foreign Office of the late Ministry, had brought him into contact with the social world of London. But, hitherto, women had had small enough place in his life. The hunting-field and the coverts, with golf and rowing, had entirely claimed his leisure, which would have been considered something very like wasted had it been spent in Society's drawing-rooms. He was a big, strong, outdoor man, and possessed a great deal of that curious diffidence which is more apt to attack men of his bulk than those of lesser stature.
All these things had served to make him difficult as a prize worth striving for in the matrimonial market, and, doubtless, he had been thus saved to the work which he believed lay before him. He had never been a man of marked celibate tendencies. It was simply the fact that the sex question had always been dominated by the simple, hard-working, outdoor life he lived. Those who knew him had always taken a delight in prophesying that one day some woman would get hold of him, he would get it badly, and it would be a thousand to one chance she would be the wrong woman, and he would make a complete mess of things.
Now as he sat, filling to overflowing a small drawing-room chair, in Vita Vladimir's flat in Kensington, listening to the musical tones of the wonderful Polish beauty facing him on a wholly inefficient window seat, with his dark eyes, shining and intent, fixed upon her mobile features, it looked as though at least one part of his friends' prophecy was within measurable distance of being fulfilled.
The woman was talking rapidly, and the light and shade of emotion passing over her expressive face were quite irresistible.
"Your coming was more than I dared to hope," she said. "And yet – I knew you would. I mean underneath my fears. You know I feel I ought to tell you so many things that I have purposely hidden, and yet I know it would be a mistake to do so until – I have shown you all that which I promised. It makes me feel mean. It makes me feel almost as if I were not acting honestly. And yet I know I am. But I think I can tell you one thing which may astonish you. Our meeting on the cliffs was the result of nearly two months' preparation and consideration. It was even in the nature of a plot, in which I was to be the instrument of communication. Furthermore it took me nearly two weeks of waiting and watching before I could decide that the right moment had arrived. You see, so secretly had we to move that I dared not chance a thing. The risk for all concerned was so great. Mr. Farlow, will you believe me when I say that yours is not the only life at stake in this adventure? Even now I dare not give you the details. You must still take me on trust, as you were kind enough to do – that night."
Ruxton nodded soberly, though his eyes were feasting upon the woman's superlative beauty as she reclined against the window casing in an all unconscious pose of considerable grace.
"I think I understand better than you imagine since I have seen – Mr. Charles Smith and his invention."
The woman's deeply-fringed grey eyes were widely alert.
"You have – associated us?"
"Veevee, London."
The woman nodded. There was no attempt at denial.
"I see," she said, and the grey eyes became interestedly speculative.
Ruxton glanced about him. He was swiftly taking in the details of the plainly furnished, extremely modern little drawing-room. It was the preliminary to the next step in this strange adventure. He saw about him no single suggestion of the personality of the woman who claimed it as her home. It might have belonged to anybody, from a superior business woman, who used it as a nightly refuge from the cares and worries of a commercial life, to a foreign visitor to London, desiring a convenient headquarters. It was to his mind a typical "furnished flat" as designated in the house agent's catalogue.
His eyes came back to the woman herself, and a deep, restrained admiration grew in their depths.
All that he had believed of her in the deceptive moonlight was more than confirmed in the warm light of day. He had no thought for her costume. In his man's way he realized a perfect harmony between that and the wonderful face and head that adorned it. He was aware only of the deep sleepy grey eyes so exquisitely fringed. The smooth, delicately tinted cheeks, and the mouth so ripe and full of the suggestion of youth. Above all was that wonderful glory of red-gold hair massed on the head with all the art of the hair-dresser, which transformed it into a crown which any queen might well have envied.
"I want to say something that may sound rough, even brutal," Ruxton said abruptly after the prolonged pause. "But then there are times in life when the suaveness of diplomatic methods becomes wholly misplaced – even an insult to the person towards whom they are directed. You will permit me to assure you that what I have to say is the outcome of the interest you have roused in me by all you have confided." He paused again thoughtfully. He was endeavoring to shut out of his mind the picture of the woman's personality which made what he was about to say seem so harsh and unnecessary. He nerved himself for the effort and proceeded.
"Let me say at once, that against all my – what shall I say – better sense? That will do. Against all my better sense I accepted and believed your story to me on the cliffs. Had I acted as my sense prompted I should have thrust it aside and ignored it, regarding you merely as one of my country's enemies, seeking, for some inexplicable reason, to leave me at the mercy of your confederates.
"However, for once instinct served me well. I committed no such injustice. Then on my return home I discovered a link, as I thought, between you and another matter which has since proved to be of considerable importance. I refer to Veevee, London. That link you do not deny. The combination suggests more fully the importance and truth of what you told me."
"The combination of the two things was part of the – preparation."
Vita Vladimir smiled. Her smile was like a sunbeam of early morning, and Ruxton was compelled to respond.
"That is how I now supposed. You must forgive me for what else I have to say. The natural result of a mind left groping is the dominance of imagination. 'Fact' is the only thing which can pin imagination down. At the present moment I am lacking in facts. I have only been told, and so my imagination has been turned loose. The result has been one or two things which I am going to put to you, and you can answer them or not. But my future action will be undoubtedly governed by your attitude. First, then, this is not your actual home. Second, your name is not Vita Vladimir. Third, you were kind enough to send me congratulation on my promotion to Cabinet rank when only the Prime Minister, and his most intimate colleagues, were aware of it. Even the ubiquitous press had failed to steal the information."
Ruxton's challenge came as it was intended to come, shortly, sharply, even with a suggestion of brutality in it. He had outraged his own feelings in doing so. He knew in his heart he had no doubt of this wonderful creature, but his mind, that simple, keen, straightforward organ, trained in the hypocritical world of diplomacy, dictated its will upon him. He had been asked to believe something very like a fairy-tale, and the lips which had formulated the request were the most perfect it had ever been his lot to behold. However, the dictates of his heart, the warm young manhood in him were still subservient to the trained mind. The day might come when rebellion would overthrow such sway, but, for the moment, it held.
The woman took no umbrage. There was a quickening of the rise and fall of her beautifully rounded bosom, but that was the only sign of emotion permitted to escape her.
"Your observation is – quick," she said, with a slightly heightened color. "And what if these things are – true? Are they so very significant?"
Ruxton shrugged. Something of the warmth had passed out of his eyes. But he displayed not the smallest impatience.
Then the woman smiled. Her smile grew into a deep musical laugh.
"I am foolish. I am not clever enough for the work entrusted to me," she cried, spreading out her hands in a deprecating manner. "Here am I striving to win your perfect confidence by methods which might well characterize the most absurdly cumbersome and blundering child. I am deputed to urge you to an enterprise that entails risks – untold; maybe I am striving to send you to your – death. And this work is vital to the world, and, more than all, to your country. We are both striving in the cause of humanity, partners bound by no other tie, and yet in my endeavor I am raising doubt in your mind. Doubt of me, doubt of my purpose, even doubt of my honor. That is so like a woman – isn't it?"
The smile which the self-denunciation raised upon the man's face no longer lacked warmth.
"The clever knave is rarely at a loss for explanation," he said drily. "The lack of explanation often carries conviction."
The woman's slumberous eyes only smiled the more deeply.
"I have explanations for all these things, and I would give them," she said promptly. "And those explanations might astonish you – a little. But at present I have only admission to make, which may have a disastrous effect upon my hopes. This is not my home. It is only a sort of – office. My name is not Vita Vladimir, except in part. And as for my wire to you, the moment the personnel of the new Cabinet was decided upon by Sir Meeston Harborough and his colleagues, the news was conveyed by the usual underground methods – abroad. That is all."
"And you are in touch with – abroad?"
"It is quite simple," the woman went on, with a shrug. "No political movement, no movement of any significance goes on here but it is known in foreign official circles even before the press get it here. Remember the war. My father, who is interested in this matter I am engaged upon, is in touch with those official circles, and so I received the news within a few hours of the time Sir Meeston knew it himself."
The interest of this woman was very great. Its influence was growing on the man even more quickly than he knew. Her ready admission, her obviously true explanation of how she received the news which inspired her message of congratulation, these things had immediate effect. To a lesser mind than that of this youthful statesman, these things might well have inspired added doubt, but to Ruxton they told him all he wanted to know with definite assurance. He was convinced of her absolute sincerity, as he was convinced of – other things.
The woman was waiting anxiously for the attitude which was to follow her explanations. Her anxiety did not display itself in her eyes, which were as calm as though matters of vital importance were beyond even her appreciation. Nevertheless, her blood was tingling with an apprehension which left the silence which had fallen almost insupportable.
But Ruxton was thinking swiftly. For the moment all thought of the woman herself had been brushed aside. He was gazing at that dim misty light ahead, which was his goal, and he seemed to see the shadowy obstacles looming up which perhaps meant a life and death struggle in their surmounting. There was no pathway to the right or left. He must go on. It was the only road, a dangerous, deadly road, and it was the road this woman had offered him. He had probed deeply, far deeper than had seemed possible at first, and his probing had helped him to his decision.
He rose from his seat and stood towering and large in that small room. The sleepy eyes of the woman were raised expectantly to his face, and, deep down in their depths, a light of admiration, which had only his manhood for its object, was growing with each passing moment. She too rose from her seat at the window, and they stood facing each other perfect in their splendid youth.
"Well?"
The woman could no longer restrain her impatience. Her interrogation broke from her almost unconsciously.
"I came here to – accept your invitation to visit that – to see those things first hand, which is the duty of our country's political leaders," he said, with a smile which thrilled the expectant woman.
"And you will – accept?"
Ruxton nodded. His fine head, with its fair hair, was inclined in acquiescence.
"Thank God!"
The woman's exclamation was one of unrestrained thankfulness and relief. Had Ruxton needed any added proof of her honesty and sincerity, it was in that wonderful expression of fervid thankfulness which accompanied her words. But he had needed none, and it was the result of a coalition of heart and brain.
"I shall communicate with your father and appoint a time when I can start with him – on his submersible."
The woman's eyes were wide.
"My father!" she exclaimed.
"Surely – Mr. Charles Smith."
The laugh which followed Ruxton's announcement was full of delighted admiration.
"And we took so much trouble. We planned so carefully. We came to you because we believed you to be the only man approachable on such a subject. We did not realize we were approaching an intellect capable of fathoming and turning inside out our closely kept secrets."
"Intellect?" Ruxton laughed as he held out his hand in "good-bye." "It is not necessarily intellect which recognizes strong family likenesses. But I regret to say that your father, brilliant as he may be as an inventor, does not do you justice in the matter of his personal appearance. However, I shall send him a message addressed Veevee, London, which you will doubtless see, and I pray that Providence may bless our feeble efforts. From all I can imagine the immediate future will contain many uncertainties for me, so I do not know if we shall ever meet again. But I want to tell you that I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me. If things are as bad as you think, then you have done our country an inestimable service – you and your father."