That Which Hath Wings: A Novel of the Day
"He had been recommended for the Victoria Cross for a special service of
great gallantry--rendered during the Battle of the Aisne. He was a
brave and simple young man, and very lovable. His wife received the
official intelligence of his death yesterday. They 'phoned Patrine, as
you know, and sent for me later. Lady Norwater is expecting her
confinement at the end of November--and they were alarmed for her."
"Poor little soul! Her baby will be a comfort to her!"
Saxham remembered under what circumstances he had made the acquaintance
of Lady Norwater, and his look was rather grim. In his mind's ear he
heard again the sweet little voice saying in its fashionable slang
jargon:
"Oh no! I rather cotton to kiddies. It's the bother of having 'em
doesn't appeal. It puts everything in the cart for the Autumn Season."
Still, the recent remembrance of her piteousness softened the Doctor's
never very adamantine heart towards her, the humming-bird broken on the
wheel of implacable Fate. Not unnatural, after all. More of a woman
than one would have thought her. How she had clasped her tiny hands
together and entreated him, when the worst was feared for her, to save,
to save her child.
"Franky's child. Perhaps--the boy he hoped for. Oh! to have to say
_hoped_, hurts so dreadfully. Yes, yes! I will be brave and good and
quiet.... I will do everything that you say. Ah, now I know why all
these days I have felt Franky near me, and seen his eyes looking at me
out of every stranger's face."
Margot did not cry out in her pain and loneliness for her friend Patrine
to come to her, though she sent loving, grateful messages whenever Pat
called or 'phoned. But she had said to Saxham, only that morning:
"Doctor, I met your wife at the Club not long ago. She is more
beautiful, but so much sadder than the portrait you showed me. Ah, yes!
I remember why. When I am better, would she come and see me? Perhaps
it is inconsiderate that I should ask. But the world is so huge and
coarse and noisy and empty"--the little lip had quivered--"and there is
something in her face that is so sweet, I have been fancying that it
would"---she hesitated--"be good for me and for my baby if she would
sometimes visit me. Do you think she would mind?"
Saxham had answered:
"I will ask her." Now he gave the piteous message, and Lynette warmly
agreed:
"Of course I will go. Whenever you say I may!"
"Not for some days. She is to see no one yet, and your hands are full
with Madame van der Heuvel and Marienne and Simonne." The Doctor
referred to an exiled Belgian lady and her young daughters, who had been
received at Harley Street as guests. "And--there is the Hospital--and
to-night you have to address this Meeting of Suffragists at the Royal
Hall. It is the only decision of yours, let me tell you," said Saxham,
"that I ever felt tempted to dispute. My wife upon the same platform
with Mrs. Carrie Clash and Fanny Leaven! A triple force of Metropolitan
Police on duty, and detectives at all the exits and amongst the
audience. It's--" Words failed Saxham.
"It is unspeakably hateful in your eyes. Dear Owen, I know it. But I
should be hateful in my own sight if I were to break my word. On the
day I first met you we spoke of these views of mine. I hold them still.
Marriage has not altered them. It is not in me," said Lynette, "to
change!"
"You are the soul of faithfulness in all things!"
"Then do not be grieved that I keep to my given promise. Those who have
honoured me by asking me to address them are aware that my convictions
are opposed to theirs at points. But while I oppose I admire their
ruthless devotion and their magnificent, unswerving policy of
self-sacrifice----"
"But these felonies," he protested, "these incendiary attacks upon
property----"
"In nine cases out of ten, and I believe the authorities know it as well
as the W.S.S.S., such outrages have not been committed by Suffragists at
all."
"By whom, then?"
"Have we no enemies without our gates even now when we are at War?"
"Germans...." A light broke in upon Saxham. "It's not impossible. As
for scattered literature being evidence--that can be bought anywhere.
But granted the blackest sheep of the W.S.S.S. to be proved--piebald,
that will not make me less anxious for you to-night."
He touched a heavy plait of the red-brown hair with a tender hand and
said to her:
"I grudge that the pearls of my wife's eloquence should be thrown before
Suffragists."
"We disagree, dear love," she said to him, "but we do not love the less
for it. When the Franchise is accorded to Women, should I vote for one
Party and you for another, will that matter a whit to you?"
"Not a whit," he said, as he kissed her. "You may give your vote to
whom you choose, so long as the voter remains mine. Who was that?"
Saxham's quick ear had heard a footstep in the hall. "Madame van der
Heuvel coming back from Mass?"
"It is Patrine!"
"Patrine off and away at this hour?"
"I told her I would explain to you."
"She has explained to you," said Saxham, "and that should be enough."
"Dear Owen! ... I am sure she wished you to know of it.... She has gone
down to Seasheere, a little Naval Flying-station on the South-East
coast, to meet Alan Sherbrand on the home-flight from Somewhere in
France."
"I see in to-day's _Wire_ that he has been gazetted Lieutenant," said
Saxham. "One rather wonders, all things considered, that it has not
happened before."
For not once nor twice in the past weeks the big smudgy contents-bills
hung upon railings and worn as a chest-protector by newspaper-vendors,
since paper became too scarce an article to line street-gutters with,
had trumpeted the name of Sherbrand; and the big black-capitalled
headings had set forth his deeds of daring. Only to-day they had
announced:
"SHERBRAND OF THE R.F.C. STRAFES ANOTHER HUN-BIRD. BAG BROUGHT UP TO
NINE, AND TWO ENEMY KITE-BALLOONS. POPULAR YOUNG AVIATOR NOW VISCOUNT
NORWATER, HEIR-PRESUMPTIVE TO BRITISH EARL."
"He may be sent back to the Front at any moment--it is natural that they
should wish to be together, don't you think?" The speaker added, as
Saxham made no immediate rejoinder: "As they are engaged to be married,
and what is more, engaged with your consent."
"She has told you so?"
"No!" A shadow of the old smile hovered upon the sensitive mouth. "I
told her, and she could not deny it.... Oh, Owen! Do you really believe
I have been blind all this time?"
"I should have known that women have clairvoyance in these matters. But
Patrine feared that you would think her unfeeling or inconsiderate----"
"And why? Because when God sent me a great grief He gave my poor girl a
great happiness? The best earthly happiness, save one, that He holds in
His gift."
"I thank Him that you still think so, after thirteen years of marriage!"
"I shall always think so, Owen. And it is a great thing that Patrine
has chosen so well. He is true and brave, and loves my dear sincerely.
And her love is beautiful and disinterested. There is no taint of
baseness in her----"
"She has nothing of Mildred or of David, then," flashed through the
Doctor's mind. Lynette went on:
"No one will ever be able to charge her with venality or mercenariness.
The succession that they _will_ talk of in the newspapers was not
dreamed of when she and Alan fell in love."
"The succession! Ah, of course!" the Doctor said; "There is a possible
succession to a Viscounty now that Lord Norwater's death is proved fact,
but only in case Lady Norwater bears no male child. But a title would
not spoil Sherbrand, and I agree with you that it has never influenced
Patrine."
"How tired you look!" Lynette said, noting the look of heavy care and
the deep lines of weariness traced on the stern visage.
"I have several critical private cases, and a long list of operations
for this morning at SS. Stanislaus and Theresa's. Now go and dress, my
sweet, for I have work to do."
And Lynette went with a happier look than she had worn since the
crushing blow fell. And Saxham shot the bolt of his consulting-room
door and went back to his chair at the big writing-table, and leaned his
head upon his hands.
An Atlas burden of care cracked the sinews of the Doctor's huge
shoulders. It had not occurred to Saxham when Patrine had gulped out
her pitiful story, and he had heartened her by bidding her forget, that
forgetfulness would speedily be accomplished at the cost of an honest
man.
Now, what to do? Must Sherbrand take the stranger's leavings or David's
girl be twice the loser by the stranger's lustful theft? It was a
problem to thrash the brain to jelly of grey matter, thought the Dop
Doctor, drilling his fingertips into his aching temples--were there no
cause for anxiety elsewhere.
Ah! how much more stuffed the pack that burdened the big shoulders. The
boy had been taken and the mother would die of grief. You could see her
withering like a white rose held near the blast of a smelting-furnace.
Yet there was nothing to do but look on and play the game. A bitter
spasm gripped the man by the throat, and slow tears, wrung from the
depths of him by mortal anguish, splashed on the paper between his
elbows and raised great blisters there. Truly, when the spark of Hope
burns dimmest, when the grain of Faith is a thousand times smaller than
the mustard-seed--when God seems most far away, He is nearest. We have
learned this with other truths, in the War. Blood and tears mingle in
the collyrium with which our eyes have been bathed, that we might see.
Saxham battled down his weakness, and rose up and went to duty. None
might guess, looking at the Dop Doctor, that those hard, bright eyes had
wept an hour ago. Later on, a moment serving, he went to the telephone.
"Halloa! Is this New Scotland Yard? M.P.O.? Halloa! ... I am Dr.
Saxham, speaking from SS. Stanislaus and Theresa's Hospital, N.W. Can I
get word with Superintendent-on-the-Executive, Donald Kirwall? Halloa!
... Thanks, I'll hold the line."
He waited a minute, and the Superintendent answered:
"Halloa! Dr. Saxham? Anything we can do for you, sir?"
"Yes. Put me on six good plain-clothes men at this Mass Meeting of
Suffragists at the Royal Hall to-night. Can you? ... Halloa! ... I could
do with eight or ten!"
"Halloa! ... Well, sir, we'll do what we can. We'll be pretty strong in
force there, as it happens, Marylebone and Holborn and St. James's
Divisions...." Something like an official chuckle came over the line.
"Mrs. Petrell in the chair, and the Clash and Fanny Higgins. We've
learned to look for trouble when they get up to speak. Halloa! Beg
pardon! I didn't quite hear! ..."
Saxham had cursed the popular leaders.
"Yes, I was aware they'd prevailed on Mrs. Saxham to address 'em....
Indeed, they're advertising her all over the shop.... Halloa? ...
Certainly we'll put you on the plain-clothes men you ask for. But even
without Police to protect her, Mrs. Saxham don't run much risk. Halloa!
... Why! ... Oh! because an uncommon big percentage of the audience on
these packed nights are out-and-out loose women. Soho and Leicester
Square, and all that lot.... Others come up from Poplar and Stepney and
Bethnal Green and Deptford to hear Fanny Higgins. Halloa? Do they want
the Vote? Well, naturally these gay women like the idea of being
Represented in Parliament. If respectable females are going to get good
of it, naturally the prostitutes want the Franchise. They hold that
Woman Suffrage 'ud improve their conditions. Halloa! ... You don't know
but what the gay women have as good a right to vote as the gay men who
employ 'em? No more don't I! But whatever they are, they appreciate