The Judgment House

Cairo b

recumbent position in his desk-chair, from which he had been dreamily talking into the ceiling, as it w

The outburst which had broken in on his monologue was so unexpected that for a moment he could scarcely realize the situation. It was not often, in these strenuous and perilous days-and for himself less often than ever before, so had London a

nt is the present. It's about big enough for you and me and the rest of us. I want to hold our own in Johannesburg. I want to pull thirty-five millions a year out of the eighty miles of reef, and

's what you want to see, is it, Mr. Blasphemous Barry Whalen? Well, y

er with good living, and yet had indefinably coarsened in the three years gone since th

agree generally on what ought to be done; and I don't know that

e, Byng. It isn't the same

s visitor violence; but he got hold of himself in time, and, with a sudden

k any less, and I don't want to see you any more or any fewer. But, Barry"-his voice changed, grew warmer, kinder-"circumstances are circumstances. The daily lives of all of us are shaped differently-yours as well as mine-here in this pudding-faced civilization and in the iron conventions of London town; and we must adapt ourselves accordingly. We used to flop down on our Louis Quinze furniture on the Vaal with our muddy boots on-in our front drawing-room. We don't do it in Thamesfontein, my noble buccaneer-not even in Barry Whalen's mansion in Ladbroke Square, where Barry Whalen, Esq., puts his silk hat on the hall table, and-and, 'If you please, sir, your bath is ready'! ... Don't be an idiot-child, Barry, and

tle. He came over, rested both hands on the table and lea

to know beforehand what Fleming intends to bring up to-night-a nice kind of reunion, isn't it, wit

big, loose, double-breasted jacket, and spread his feet a litt

rposed. "What is Fleming going t

of any importance and most we say that counts-to Kruger and Leyds.

ame quiet and watchful. "And whom does Fleming-or you-suspect?" he

ooked Byng rather hesitatingly i

uspicions. Mine, though, are at leas

ro

l-for

ct in betraying us, even if

, Byng, and double pay to a

e, Barry. I know men. What sort of thi

ity in England knew, besides Wallstein. His face slowly reddened with anger. London life, and its excitements multiplied by his wife and not avoided by himself, had worn on him, had affected his once sunny and even temper, had given him greater bulk, with a touch of

certainly, but it isn't

ise you'll ship him back b

s I am to myself; and, anyhow, there are things in this Krool cou

deed, she had counselled extreme caution so often to himself that she would, in any case, be innocent of having babbled. But certainly there had been leak

carry dynamite in y

ng to see you?" Barry a

s against doing so; though, like an Irishman, he had risked every

ou could be ready when Flemin

ait a minute," he continued, as his visitor prepared to leave. "Go into the other room"-he pointed. "G

r louder than in ordinary conversation to an imaginary interlocu

asked. "Hea

d-scarcely

's try the other door, leading into the hall." They went over to it. "You see, here's an inside baize-door as

oduced the

," remarked Byng, with a

e had suspected Krool, had considered him a danger. For years he had regarded Byng as culpable, for keeping as his servant one whom the

cretary, who was also a kind of master-of-ceremonies and lord-in-waiting, as it were, could do. Yes, there was Adrian Fellowes, the private secretary; and there was Mrs. Byng, who knew so much of what her husband knew! And the private secretary and

past seven now. Don't fuss, Barry. We'll nose out the spy, whoever he is, or w

ers. Let's get out of this infernal jack-pot. Let's go where we'll be in the thick of the broiling when it comes. You've got a political head, and you've done more than any one else could do to put things right and keep them right;

hand of the rough-hewn comrade

aid, gently. "But we're all right in London.

in enough! We're in the wrong shop. We're not buying or selling; we're being sold. Baas-big Baas, let's go where there's room to sling a stone; where we can see what's goin

he karoo was in his nostrils. "You're not ending up as you began, Barry," he replied. "Yo

-I can see. The Celt can always see, even if he can't act. And I see dark days coming for this old land. Engl

ape to C

he same. I'm right. We're rotten cotton stuff now in these isles. We've g

in will give us a fat dinner to-night, and you can mora

ark-browed Krool, Byng turned again to his desk. As he did so he caught sight of his

generated. We've all degenerated. What's the matter, anyhow? W

to see Jasmine in evening dress smiling at

own me over-me-to go and dine with the Wallstein! It's nonsens

o-more than ever there was. There's a storm coming up on the veld, a real jagged lightning business, and men will get hurt, hosts beyond recovery. We must commune together, all of us. If there's the communion of saints, there's also the communion of s

ce in her soft golden hair. "My darling, my little jasmin

an. How can I send Ian Stafford a

d friends as you are. Why shouldn't he dine with you a deux

d told her of this dinner with his friends, and at the moment she asked Ian Stafford to dine she had f

gone again to the obscurity whence it came. She had foreseen that he would insist on Stafford dining with her; b

o seem too conv

l rules," he rejoined. "What nonsense! You are

evening's episode, this excursion into the dangerous fields of past memory and sentiment and

," he said, standin

, as she released herself and swept into a curtsey, coquetting with her eyes as she did so. "You're

ou wild and ruthless ruffian! A gown-this gown-years ag

k-coat I bought for my brother Jim's wedding, ten years ago, and it lo

at ever lived. Why, no woman wears her gowns two season

y do with them-af

gloat over, if they like them; then, perhaps, they give t

rticular

than herself who love her very much, and

hat's 't

can get rid of fine clot

becomes of

ht by ladies l

who we

they do? Wear them-o

here's something so personal and intimate about clothes. I think I

've seen them often enough, but you hav

could wear your clothes like you. It woul

What a darling you are, little big man! Yet you n

only see a general effect, but I always remember colour. Tell me, have you ever

not dir

mean by 'no

ad case-a girl in the opera who had had misfortune, illness, and bad luck; and he suggested it. He said he didn't like to ask f

ingenious of Fellowes, and thoughtful, too. Now,

ty pounds, perhaps. It's n

nd what does a ball gown cost-perhaps?" Th

d and fifty-maybe," she replied,

s you had worn twice, and then seen them

of them a great many times, except when I detested them. And anyhow, the premature d

was a satirical note in the gai

th is not in us,'" he answered. "I

at

her. She was vaguely conscious of some sort of change i

s. "I don't know what's the matter, but we're not getting out of life all we ought to get; and we

he answered, 'but I can't afford that kind of thing, and you know it.' Well, I did know it, but I had forgotten. I was only thinking of what I myself could afford to do. I was setting up my own financial standard, and was forgetting the other fellows who hadn't my standard. What's the result? We drift apar

room. "Boanerges-oh, Boanerges Byn

. The perfume which had intoxicated him in the first days of his love of her, and steeped his senses in the sap of youth and Eden, s

ul. He held her face back from him.... "If you had lived a thousand years ago you would have had a thousand lovers, Jas

strange melancholy in his eyes, belyi

rom his clouds; but there was something moving in him now which she had never seen before. Perhaps it was only a passing phase, even a moment's mood, but it made a strange

and an eye for broad effects. She had thought him curiously ignorant of human nature, born to be deceived, full of child-like illusions, never understanding the real facts of life, save in the way

d a thousand lovers. Perhaps you did-who knows! ... And

he had imagined herself, against her will, as one of these women, such as Cleopatra, for whom the world were well lost; and who, at last, having squeezed the orange dry, but while yet the sun was coming towards noon, in scorn of Life and Time had left the precincts of the cheerful day without a lingering look.... Often and often such dreams, to her anger and confusion, had haunted her, even before she was married; and she had been alternately humiliated and fascinated by them. Years ago she had tol

knew, its cade

e tumult and

embled to the

was a thousa

ntains, and th

fury from the

uiver of the

he Athenian grov

nt in intellect, but, to her thought, his was a purely objective mind; or was it objective because it had not been trained or developed subjectively? Had she ever really tried to find a region in his big nature where the fine allusiveness and subjectivity of the human mind could have free life and untrammelled exercise, could gambol in green fields of imagination and adventure upon strange seas of discovery? A shiver of pain, of remorse, went thro

e simple primitive mind and heart. Even in his faults he had ever been primitively simple and obvious. She had been energetic, helping great charities, aiding in philanthropic enterprises, with more than a little shrewdness preventing him from being robbed right and left by adventurers of all description

a change in him; or was it that he was disappointed that they were two and no more-always two, and no more? W

ad a thousand lovers.... And now you come down through

time, but at last she said: "And what

was the Satrap whose fury you soothed away, or

read those lines written

it. This dress is like the one you wore the first night that we met. It's the same kind of stuff, it's just the same colour and the same style. Why, I see it all as plain as can be-there at the opera. And

lar gown, remembering that Ian Stafford had said charming things about that other blue gown just before he bade her good-bye three years ago. That was why she wore blue this night-to recall to Ian what it appeared he had forgotten. And presently she

lightly, touching his cheek with her fingers; "and you'll come do

won't be five

ootman, entering, announced that Mr

eed," she added to her husband-"it is so big, and I am so small.

nge light to his eyes. S

e can't get more out of life than we do. There's something wrong. What is it? I don't know; but perhaps

get back," she said. "We'll open the machine and fin

mused to herself and there was a sh

! Poor Rudd

the sitting-room, as she tur

" she added with a nervous little laugh, and with an