XXVIII
THE LETTER
It was night when Hogarth broke into the presence of Loveday at CheyneGardens with a glad face, crying: "Forgive me, my friend, for being aboor!"
"You are forgiven", Loveday answered with his smile, hastening to meethim: "the broken picture, you see, is in a better frame, and so are we.What could have made us invent a quarrel about--land, of all things!"
"Come, let us talk", said Hogarth: "not long--all about land, and sea,too. I suppose you have nothing to tell about my sister? Never mind--weshall find her. Come, sit and give me _all_ your intelligence. Youare not interested in land, then? You _will_ be in ten minutes--it isinteresting. Listen: all the land of the earth is _mine_, and allthe sea especially--a good thing, for, for a hundred years Europe,especially England, has wanted a master: the anarchy of our modern lifeis too terrible! it cannot arrange itself; and now the hour has struck,though none has heard the bell".
"Hogarth! but you gabble like a mad god", cried Loveday. "I am all inthe dark--"
"I will tell you".
And he spoke, first going into his discovery at Colmoor, frowning uponLoveday, ploughing the truth into his brow; proving how modern misery,in its complexity, had its cause in one simple old fault, sure as thefact that smoke ascends, or apples fall. And when he saw conviction beamin Loveday's face, he next told what had happened at the elm-tree, andwhat would happen-soon; whereat Loveday, like a frightened child, clungto his arm, and once gasped: "Oh no--my God!" and once felt a gory ghostraise horror in his hairs.
An hour afterwards they were bending over a sheet of paper, Hogarth inhis shirt-sleeves, writing, Loveday overlooking, suggesting, whentwo men were announced, and in stepped O'Hara with bows and polishedhesitations, followed by his shadow, Harris; and, "Ah, O'Hara..." criedHogarth, still writing, "who is that with you?"
"A friend of mine", said Loveday, for O'Hara had introduced Harris tohim, and he had adopted Harris as a human study, horrid, but amusing.
The moment O'Hara saw the face of Hogarth, he started, muttering: "Hehas the diamonds back! God! is he a magician?"
And Harris drawled nasally: "Of course, you wouldn't know me now, Mr.76! Were there not ten cleansed, but where are the nine, it _is_".
Hogarth was silent--had not yet decided what to do with Harris.
"This is my tenth call here, Hogarth", said O'Hara, "in the hope ofseeing you, and the streets, you know, are no small risk. You see howI am muffled up, and this gentleman, too. By the bye, I have selected acargo of books for you--"
"No study for a month", said Hogarth, "but I shall want you all thesame. Just come over here and watch me write this thing. You, Harris,sit right over there".
Harris cursed, but obeyed, while O'Hara came and bent under the goldenglow of the silk shade a brow puckered with a care of puzzlement, as heread.
Then he fell into the work, and was soon the director of it--invaluable!knew everything! remembered forgotten points; explained technicalities;the proper person in each little State to whom the document must bedirected, the style of addressing him. Of one sentence he said: "Thatwill never do--lacks formality"; and of another: "Tut, they will laughat that--it is provincial and insolent", distracted between the work andhis brandy glass. At last, about eleven, the three brains had produced aletter.
Hogarth laid claim to the sea as his private property, and warned thenations.