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The Summons

The Summons

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2186    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

lympi

ll! Lu

d towards the north and the room was full of light and of a low and pleasant music. For the tide tinkled and chattered against the ship's planks and, in the gardens of the town across the harbour, bands were playing. The town was Stockholm in the ye

ere in the cabin in front of him, but sunk in so deep a contemplation of memories and prospects t

up, ol

ny start. He was seated in front of the writing-desk, a young man, a

eck," continued Hardiman. "We shall lose ou

of a telegram lying u

died out of his voice.

the telegram t

to make up my mind-an

rry Luttrell, Yacht The Dragonfly, Stockholm, and it was s

but you must apply immed

is body went with a run; he collapsed rather than sat. The little veins were beginning to show like tiny scarlet threads across his nose and on the fullness of his cheeks; his face was the colour of wine; and the pupi

answered thi

st send an an

re in

ond day of the games. I was quite sure, whilst I waited

iness in good living. Luttrell was face to face with one of the few grave decisions which each man has in the course of his life to make; and Hardiman understood his need better than he un

d were ordered to shut their eyes. The Major, you see, hated stirring out at night. He liked his bridge and his bottle of port. Well, give me another year and that's the kind of soldier I shall become-the wor

ou do?" ask

ell n

ill out of my escape, I assure you. I

questions. He just sat and waited, inviting Luttr

nly. "Of course you know soldiers have believed that trouble's coming. I used to doubt, but by God I am sure of it now. Just a froth of fine words at the opening and afterwards-honest rivalry and let the best man win? Not a bit of it! Team-runni

e. He leaned across the table and drew towards him a case of telegraph

aid. He was speaking shyly, uncom

eface to conclusion, but he was not to get it. He received no answer of any kind for a consid

events, is all

. Men go to the confessional with a reservation; the secret chamber where they keep their sacred vessels, their real truths and inspirations, as also their most scarlet sins-that shall be opened to no one after early youth is past unless it

hat I sho

d wri

don to-morrow to apply

was not the answer which he had expected from

e that?" h

of us-even Mario Escobar-we are the Come-to-nothings. We are the people of the stage door, we grow fat in restaurants. From three to seven

uncomfortably

o the question," he said, and from the deck above

you two

oked toward

e," said

es

nodded

h, dull beast and her footprints in her flight from him were littered with excuses. I am not considering the injustice of the world. I am looking a

es and thin, clean features were troubl

tie between Stella Croyle and me,"

y which had overtrained him. His face was a trifle too delicate, perhaps, to go wi

ll end-all of that kind do. And yours will end in a bitter, irretrievable quarrel after you have ruined yourself, and because you have ruined yourself. You are already on the rack-make no doubt about it. Oh, I have seen you twi

unset she came suddenly upon the bridges and the palace and the gardens of Stockholm. The women of the party were in the saloon. A rush was made towards it. They were summoned to this first wonderful view of the city of beauty. Would they come? No! Stella Croyle was in the middle

, exasperating grievance, which would rankle, which would not be buried, which sprang to fresh life at each fresh sight of her. Yes, of a certainty, sooner or later Stella Croyle and he w

recurring vision of wider spaces and greater things, towards which you sail on the wind of a great emotion. Soon

manner of man he had been in his twenties. Hardiman answere

diman had written out and placed it in

ecide to send it, I can send it from the hotel over the

the question over with Stella Croyle, shoulder to shoulder with her amongst the lights and music, the perfume of her hai

often as not decides. There was a hurrying of light feet in the corridor outside, a swift, peremptory knocking upon the door.

note of ownership-very clear and definite; and hearing it Luttrell

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