The Seven Dials mystery
went wrong--as they have done. His part is the part of scapegoat; to
draw all attention from No. 7--the boss."
"I say, Bundle," said Jimmy anxiously, "you haven't been reading too
much sensational literature, have you?"
Bundle threw him a glance of dignified reproach.
"Well," said Jimmy, "I'm not yet like the Red Queen. I can't believe
six impossible things before breakfast."
"It's after breakfast," said Bundle.
"Or even after breakfast. We've got a perfectly good hypothesis which
fits the facts--and you won't have it at any price, simply because like
the old riddle, you want to make things more difficult."
"I'm sorry," said Bundle, "but I cling passionately to a mysterious No.
7 being a member of the house-party."
"What does Bill think?"
"Bill," said Bundle coldly, "is impossible."
"Oh!" said Jimmy. "I suppose you've told him about the Countess?
He ought to be warned. Heaven knows what he'll go blabbing about
otherwise."
"He won't hear a word against her," said Bundle. "He's--oh, simply
idiotic. I wish you'd drive it home to him about that mole."
"You forget I wasn't in the cupboard," said Jimmy. "And anyway I'd
rather not argue with Bill about his lady friend's mole. But surely he
can't be such an ass as not to see that everything fits in?"
"He's every kind of ass," said Bundle bitterly. "You made the greatest
mistake, Jimmy, in ever telling him at all."
"I'm sorry," said Jimmy. "I didn't see it at the time--but I do now. I
was a fool, but dash it all, old Bill--"
"You know what foreign adventuresses are," said Bundle. "How they get
hold of one."
"As a matter of fact, I don't," said Jimmy. "One has never tried to get
hold of me." And he sighed.
For a moment or two there was silence. Jimmy was turning things over in
his mind. The more he thought about them, the more unsatisfactory they
seemed.
"You say that Battle wants the Countess let alone," he said at last.
"Yes."
"The idea being that through her he will get at someone else?"
Bundle nodded.
Jimmy frowned deeply as he tried to see where this led. Clearly Battle
had some very definite idea in his mind.
"Sir Stanley Digby went up to town early this morning, didn't he?" he
said.
"Yes."
"O'Rourke with him?"
"Yes, I think so."
"You don't think--no, that's impossible?"
"What?"
"That O'Rourke can be mixed up in this in any way?"
"It's possible," said Bundle thoughtfully. "He's got what one calls a
very vivid personality. No, it wouldn't surprise me if--oh, to tell the
truth, nothing would surprise me! In fact, there's only one person I'm
really sure isn't No. 7."
"Who's that?"
"Superintendent Battle."
"Oh! I thought you were going to say George Lomax."
"Ssh, here he comes."
George was, indeed, bearing down upon them in an unmistakable manner.
Jimmy made an excuse and slipped away. George sat down by Bundle.
"My dear Eileen, must you really leave us?"
"Well, Father seems to have got the wind up rather badly. I think I'd
better go home and hold his hand."
"This little hand will indeed be comforting," said George, taking it
and pressing it playfully. "My dear Eileen, I understand your reasons
and I honour you for them. In these days of changed and unsettled
conditions--"
"He's off," thought Bundle desperately.
"--when family life is at a premium--all the old standards falling!--it
becomes our class to set an example--to show that we, at least, are
unaffected by modern conditions. They call us the Die Hards--I am proud
of the term--I repeat I am proud of the term! There are things that
_should_ die hard--dignity, beauty, modesty, the sanctity of family
life, filial respect--who dies if these shall live? As I was saying,
my dear Eileen, I envy you the privileges of your youth. Youth! What
a wonderful thing! What a wonderful word! And we do not appreciate it
until we grow to--er--maturer years. I confess, my dear child, that I
have in the past been disappointed by your levity. I see now it was but
the careless and charming levity of a child. I perceive now the serious
and earnest beauty of your mind. You will allow me, I hope, to help you
with your reading?"
"Oh, thank you," said Bundle faintly.
"And you must never be afraid of me again. I was shocked when Lady
Caterham told me that you stood in awe of me. I can assure you that I
am a very humdrum sort of person."
The spectacle of George being modest struck Bundle spellbound. George
continued.
"Never be shy with me, dear child. And do not be afraid of boring me.
It will be a great delight to me to--if I may say so--form your budding
mind. I will be your political mentor. We have never needed young women
of talent and charm in the Party more than we need them to-day. You
may well be destined to follow in the footsteps of your aunt, Lady
Caterham."
This awful prospect knocked Bundle out completely. She could only stare
helplessly at George. This did not discourage him--on the contrary. His
main objection to women was that they talked too much. It was seldom
that he found what he considered a really good listener. He smiled
benignantly at Bundle.
"The butterfly emerging from the chrysalis. A wonderful picture. I have
a very interesting work on political economy. I will look it out now,
and you can take it to Chimneys with you. When you have finished it, I
will discuss it with you. Do not hesitate to write to me if any point
puzzles you. I have many public duties, but by unsparing work I can
always make time for the affairs of my friends. I will look for the
book."
He strode away. Bundle gazed after him with a dazed expression. She was
roused by the unexpected advent of Bill.
"Look here," said Bill, "what the hell was Codders holding your hand
for?"
"It wasn't my hand," said Bundle wildly. "It was my budding mind."
"Don't be an ass, Bundle."
"Sorry, Bill, but I'm a little worried. Do you remember saying that
Jimmy ran a grave risk coming down here?"
"So he does," said Bill. "It's frightfully hard to escape from Codders
once he's got interested in you. Jimmy will be caught in the toils
before he knows where he is."
"It's not Jimmy who's got caught--it's me," said Bundle wildly. "I
shall have to meet endless Mrs. Macattas, and read political economy
and discuss it with George, and heavens knows where it will end!"
Bill whistled.
"Poor old Bundle. Been laying it on a bit thick, haven't you?"
"I must have done. Bill, I feel horribly entangled."
"Never mind," said Bill consolingly. "George doesn't really believe
in women standing for Parliament, so you won't have to stand up on
platforms and talk a lot of junk, or kiss dirty babies in Bermondsey.
Come and have a cocktail. It's nearly lunch time."
Bundle got up and walked by his side obediently.
"And I do so hate politics," she murmured piteously.
"Of course you do. So do all sensible people. It's only people like
Codders and Pongo who take them seriously and revel in them. But all
the same," said Bill, reverting suddenly to a former point, "you
oughtn't to let Codders hold your hand."
"Why on earth not?" said Bundle. "He's known me all my life."
"Well, I don't like it."
"Virtuous William--Oh, I say, look at Superintendent Battle."
They were just passing in through a side door. A cupboard-like
room opened out of the little hallway. In it were kept golf clubs,
tennis racquets, bowls and other features of country house life.
Superintendent Battle was conducting a minute examination of various
golf clubs. He looked up a little sheepishly at Bundle's exclamation.
"Going to take up golf, Superintendent Battle?"
"I might do worse, Lady Eileen. They say it's never too late to start.
And I've got one good quality that will tell at any game."
"What's that?" asked Bill.
"I don't know when I'm beaten. If everything goes wrong, I turn to and
start again!"
And with a determined look on his face, Superintendent Battle came out
and joined them, shutting the door behind him.
CHAPTER XXV
JIMMY LAYS HIS PLANS
Jimmy Thesiger was feeling depressed. Avoiding George, whom he
suspected of being ready to tackle him on serious subjects, he stole
quietly away after lunch. Proficient as he was in details of the Santa
Fé boundary dispute, he had no wish to stand an examination on it this
minute.
Presently what he hoped would happen came to pass. Loraine Wade, also
unaccompanied, strolled down one of the shady garden paths. In a moment
Jimmy was by her side. They walked for some minutes in silence and then
Jimmy said tentatively:
"Loraine?"
"Yes?"
"Look here, I'm a bad chap at putting things--but what about it? What's
wrong with getting a special license and being married and living
together happy ever afterwards?"
Loraine displayed no embarrassment at this surprising proposal. Instead
she threw back her head and laughed frankly.
"Don't laugh at a chap," said Jimmy reproachfully.
"I can't help it. You were so funny."
"Loraine--you are a little devil."
"I'm not. I'm what's called a thoroughly nice girl."
"Only to those who don't know you--who are taken in by your delusive
appearance of meekness and decorum."
"I like your long words."
"All out of cross-word puzzles."
"So educative."
"Loraine dear, don't beat about the bush. Will you or won't you!"
Loraine's face sobered. It took on its characteristic appearance of
determination. Her small mouth hardened and her little chin shot out
aggressively.
"No, Jimmy. Not while things are as they are at present--all
unfinished."
"I know we haven't done what we set out to do," agreed Jimmy. "But all
the same--well, it's the end of a chapter. The papers are safe at the
Air Ministry. Virtue triumphant. And--for the moment--nothing doing."
"So--let's get married?" said Loraine with a slight smile.
"You've said it. Precisely the idea."
But again Loraine shook her head.
"No, Jimmy. Until this thing's rounded up--until we're safe--"
"You think we're in danger?"
"Don't you?"
Jimmy's cherubic pink face clouded over.
"You're right," he said at last. "If that extraordinary rigmarole of
Bundle's is true--and I suppose, incredible as it sounds, it must be
true--then we're not safe till we've settled with--No. 7!"
"And the others?"
"No--the others don't count. It's No. 7 with his own ways of working
that frightens me. Because I don't know who he is or where to look for
him."
Loraine shivered.
"I've been frightened," she said in a low voice. "Ever since Gerry's
death...."
"You needn't be frightened. There's nothing for you to be frightened
about. You leave everything to me. I tell you, Loraine--_I'll get No.
7 yet_. Once we get him--well, I don't think there'll be much trouble
with the rest of the gang, whoever they are."
"_If_ you get him--and suppose he gets you?"
"Impossible," said Jimmy cheerfully. "I'm much too clever. Always have
a good opinion of yourself--that's my motto."
"When I think of the things that might have happened last night--"
Loraine shivered.
"Well, they didn't," said Jimmy. "We're both here, safe and
sound--though I must admit my arm is confoundedly painful."
"Poor boy."
"Oh, one must expect to suffer in a good cause. And what with my wounds
and my cheerful conversation, I've made a complete conquest of Lady
Coote."
"Oh! Do you think that important?"
"I've an idea it may come in useful."
"You've got some plan in your mind, Jimmy. What is it?"
"The young hero never tells his plans," said Jimmy firmly. "They mature
in the dark."
"You are an idiot, Jimmy."
"I know. I know. That's what everyone says. But I can assure you,
Loraine, there's a lot of brain-work going on underneath. Now what
about your plans? Got any?"