Okewood of the Secret Service [101]
to fetch a taxi.
Taxis are rare in the early hours of the morning in war-time and Bellward was gone fully twenty minutes. Strangwise fidgeted continually, drawing out his watch repeatedly and casting many anxious glances this way and that.
His nervous demeanor began to affect Mrs. Malplaquet, who had linked her arm affectionately in Barbara's. The girl remained absolutely apathetic. Indeed, she seemed almost as one in a trance.
"Aren't we going to Bath?" at length demanded Mrs. Malplaquet of Strangwise.
"Don't ask questions!" snapped the latter.
"But the car?" asked the lady.
"Hold your tongue!" commanded the officer; and Mrs. Malplaquet obeyed.
Then Mr. Bellward returned with the news that he had at last got a taxi. Strangwise turned to Bellward.
"Can Minna and the girl go to Campden Hill alone?" he asked. "Or will the girl try and break away, do you think?"
Bellward held up his hand to enjoin silence.
"You will go along with Mrs. Malplaquet," he said to Barbara in his low purring voice, "you will stay with her until I come. You understand?"
"I will go with Mrs. Malplaquet!" the girl replied in the same dull tone as before.
"Upon my word," exclaimed Mrs. Malplaquet, you might have told me that we were going to my own place..."
But Strangwise shut her up.
"Bellward and I will come on by tube... it is safer," he said, "hurry, hurry! We must all be under cover by eight o'clock... we have no time to lose!"
CHAPTER XXVI. THE MAN IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE
The hour of the theatre rush was long since over and its passing had transformed the taxi-drivers from haughty autocrats to humble suppliants. One taxi after another crawled slowly past the street corner where Desmond had stood for over an hour in deep converse with Gunner Barling, but neither flaunting flag nor appealingly uplifted finger attracted the slightest attention from the athletic-looking man who was so earnestly engaged in talk with a tramp. But at last the conversation was over; the two men separated and the next taxi passing thereafter picked up a fare.
At nine o'clock the next morning Desmond appeared for breakfast in his sitting-room at Santona Road; for such was the name of the street in which his new rooms were situated. When he had finished his meal, he summoned Gladys and informed her that he would be glad to speak to Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe. That lady having duly answered the summons, Desmond asked whether, in consideration of terms to be mutually agreed upon, she could accommodate his soldier servant. He explained that the last-named was of the most exemplary character and threw out a hint of the value of a batman for such tasks as the cleaning of the family boots and the polishing of brass or silver.
The landlady made no objections and half an hour later a clean and respectable-looking man arrived whom Desmond with difficulty recognized as the wretched vagrant of the previous evening. This was, indeed, the Gunner Barling he used to know, with his smooth-shaven chin and neat brown moustache waxed at the ends and characteristic "quiff" decorating his brow. And so Desmond and his man installed themselves at Santona Road.
The house was clean and comfortable, and Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe, for all her "refaynement," as she would have called it, proved herself a warm-hearted, motherly soul. Desmond had a small but comfortably furnished bedroom at the top of the house, on the second floor, with a window which commanded a view of the diminutive garden and the back of a row of large houses standing on the lower slopes of the hill. So precipitous was the fall of the ground, indeed, that Desmond could look right into the garden of the house backing on Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe's. This garden had a patch of well-kept green sward in the centre with a plaster nymph in the middle, while in one corner stood a kind of large summer-house or pavilion built on a slight eminence, with a window looking into Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe's' back garden.
In accordance with a plan of action he had laid down in his mind, Desmond took all his meals
Taxis are rare in the early hours of the morning in war-time and Bellward was gone fully twenty minutes. Strangwise fidgeted continually, drawing out his watch repeatedly and casting many anxious glances this way and that.
His nervous demeanor began to affect Mrs. Malplaquet, who had linked her arm affectionately in Barbara's. The girl remained absolutely apathetic. Indeed, she seemed almost as one in a trance.
"Aren't we going to Bath?" at length demanded Mrs. Malplaquet of Strangwise.
"Don't ask questions!" snapped the latter.
"But the car?" asked the lady.
"Hold your tongue!" commanded the officer; and Mrs. Malplaquet obeyed.
Then Mr. Bellward returned with the news that he had at last got a taxi. Strangwise turned to Bellward.
"Can Minna and the girl go to Campden Hill alone?" he asked. "Or will the girl try and break away, do you think?"
Bellward held up his hand to enjoin silence.
"You will go along with Mrs. Malplaquet," he said to Barbara in his low purring voice, "you will stay with her until I come. You understand?"
"I will go with Mrs. Malplaquet!" the girl replied in the same dull tone as before.
"Upon my word," exclaimed Mrs. Malplaquet, you might have told me that we were going to my own place..."
But Strangwise shut her up.
"Bellward and I will come on by tube... it is safer," he said, "hurry, hurry! We must all be under cover by eight o'clock... we have no time to lose!"
CHAPTER XXVI. THE MAN IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE
The hour of the theatre rush was long since over and its passing had transformed the taxi-drivers from haughty autocrats to humble suppliants. One taxi after another crawled slowly past the street corner where Desmond had stood for over an hour in deep converse with Gunner Barling, but neither flaunting flag nor appealingly uplifted finger attracted the slightest attention from the athletic-looking man who was so earnestly engaged in talk with a tramp. But at last the conversation was over; the two men separated and the next taxi passing thereafter picked up a fare.
At nine o'clock the next morning Desmond appeared for breakfast in his sitting-room at Santona Road; for such was the name of the street in which his new rooms were situated. When he had finished his meal, he summoned Gladys and informed her that he would be glad to speak to Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe. That lady having duly answered the summons, Desmond asked whether, in consideration of terms to be mutually agreed upon, she could accommodate his soldier servant. He explained that the last-named was of the most exemplary character and threw out a hint of the value of a batman for such tasks as the cleaning of the family boots and the polishing of brass or silver.
The landlady made no objections and half an hour later a clean and respectable-looking man arrived whom Desmond with difficulty recognized as the wretched vagrant of the previous evening. This was, indeed, the Gunner Barling he used to know, with his smooth-shaven chin and neat brown moustache waxed at the ends and characteristic "quiff" decorating his brow. And so Desmond and his man installed themselves at Santona Road.
The house was clean and comfortable, and Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe, for all her "refaynement," as she would have called it, proved herself a warm-hearted, motherly soul. Desmond had a small but comfortably furnished bedroom at the top of the house, on the second floor, with a window which commanded a view of the diminutive garden and the back of a row of large houses standing on the lower slopes of the hill. So precipitous was the fall of the ground, indeed, that Desmond could look right into the garden of the house backing on Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe's. This garden had a patch of well-kept green sward in the centre with a plaster nymph in the middle, while in one corner stood a kind of large summer-house or pavilion built on a slight eminence, with a window looking into Mrs. Viljohn-Smythe's' back garden.
In accordance with a plan of action he had laid down in his mind, Desmond took all his meals