CHAPTER XVII
In the morning following the receipt of the letter from Foote, asdescribed in the previous chapter, Browne was walking from his house inPark Lane in the direction of Piccadilly, when he saw Maas comingtowards him.
"This is a fortunate meeting, my dear Browne," said the latter, afterthey had greeted each other; "for I was on my way to call upon you. Ifyou are walking towards Piccadilly perhaps you will permit me to savetime by accompanying you."
Browne was not feeling particularly happy that morning, and this mayhave been the reason that he was glad of Maas's company. He stood inneed of cheerful society. But though he wanted it, he was not destinedto have it. It was a bleak, dreary morning, and once or twice duringthe walk the other coughed asthmatically. Browne noticed this, and henoticed also that Maas's face was even paler than usual.
"I am afraid you are not very well, old man," he said.
"What makes you say that?" asked Maas.
Browne gave him his reasons, and when he heard them the other laughed alittle uneasily. "I am afraid you've hit it, my friend," he said. "Iam not well. I've been to see my doctor this morning, and he has givenme some rather unpleasant news."
"I am sorry indeed to hear that," said Browne. "What does he say isthe matter with you?"
"Why, he says that it is impossible for me to stay in England anylonger. He declares that I must go away for a long sea voyage, and atonce. To tell the truth, I do not come of a very strong family; and,by way of making me feel better satisfied with myself, he tells methat, unless I take care of myself, I may follow in their footsteps.Of course it's all very well to say, 'Take care of yourself'; but thedifficulty is to do so. In a life like ours, what chance have we ofguarding against catching cold? We dance in heated rooms, and sit incold balconies between whiles: we travel in draughty railway carriagesand damp cabs, and invariably eat and drink more than is good for us.The wonder to me is that we last as long as we do."
"I've no doubt we are awfully foolish," said Browne. "But our fatherswere so before us."
"A small satisfaction, look at it how you will," returned Maas.
"And so you're going to clear out of England, are you?" said Brownevery slowly, after the pause that had followed his companion's speech."Where are you thinking of going?"
"Now, that was just what I was coming to see you about," replied hisfriend. "You may remember that in Paris the other day, you spoke ofundertaking a trip to the Farther East. I laughed at it at the time,for I thought I should never move out of Europe; since then, however,or rather since the doctor gave me his unwholesome news this morning, Ihave been thinking over it. I dined last night with the Rocktowers,who, as you know, are just back from Japan, and found that they couldtalk of nothing else. Japan was this, Japan was that, possessed themost beautiful scenery in the world, the most charming people, and themost perfect climate. So fascinated was I by their description that Iwent home and dreamt about it; and I've got a sort of notion now that,if I could only get as far as Japan, all would be well with me."
Now, from the very first moment that Maas had spoken of leavingEngland, Browne had had an uneasy suspicion that something of the kindwas coming. In his inmost heart he knew very well what his companionwanted; but, unfortunately for him, he did not see his way to get outof it. When he had told Maas in Paris that he intended taking ayachting cruise to the Farther East, and had laughingly suggested thatthe latter should accompany him, he had felt quite certain in his ownmind that his invitation would be refused. To find him now asking tobe allowed to accept after all was almost too much for his equanimity.Pleasant companion as Maas undoubtedly was, he was far from being thesort of man Browne would have taken with him on such an excursion, hadhe had the choice. Besides, he had already arranged that Jimmy shouldgo with him. Therefore, like the ingenuous youth he was, he took thefirst way of getting out of his difficulty, and in consequence foundhimself floundering in a still greater quagmire immediately.
"You have not booked your passage yet?" he inquired, as if the matterof the other's going with him had never for a moment crossed his mind.
Maas threw a searching glance at him. He had a bold stroke to play,and he did not quite know how to play it. Though he had known Brownefor some considerable time, and was well aware that he was far frombeing an exceptionally clever young man, yet, for a reason which Icannot explain, he stood somewhat in awe of him.
"Well, to tell the truth," he said, "that was just what I was coming tosee you about. I wanted to find out, whether you would permit me towithdraw my refusal of your kind invitation, in favour of anacceptance. I know it is not quite the thing to do; but still ourfriendship is old enough to permit of such a strain being placed uponit. If, however, you have filled your cabins, do not for a momentconsider me. It is just possible I may be able to secure a berth onone of the outgoing mail-boats. Get away, however, I must, andimmediately."
Browne scarcely knew what to say in reply. He knew that every personhe added to the party meant an additional danger to all concerned; andhe felt that, in common justice to Maas, he could not take him withoutgiving him some hint of what he was about to do. Maas noticed hishesitation; and, thinking it betokened acquiescence to his plan, wasquick to take advantage of it.
"My dear fellow," he said, "if I am causing you the leastinconvenience, I beg of you not to give it a second thought. I shouldnot have spoken to you at all on the subject had you not said what youdid to me in Paris."
After this speech Browne felt that he had no opening left, save todeclare that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to have theother's society upon the voyage.
"And you are quite sure that I shall not be in the way?" Maas inquired.
"In the way?" Browne replied. "Not at all; I have only Jimmy Footegoing with me. We shall be a snug little party."
"It's awfully good of you," said Maas; "and I'm sure I don't know howto thank you. When do you propose to sail?"
"On Monday next from Southampton," answered Browne. "I will see thatyou have a proper notice, and I will also let you know by what train weshall go down. Your heavier baggage had better go on ahead."
"You are kindness itself," said Maas. "By the way, since we have cometo this arrangement, why should we not have a little dinner to-night atmy rooms as a send off? I'll find Foote and get him to come, and we'lldrink a toast to the Land of the Rising Sun."
"Many thanks," said Browne, "but I'm very much afraid it's quite out ofthe question. I leave for Paris this afternoon, and shall not be backuntil Saturday at earliest."
"What a pity!" said Maas. "Never mind; if we can't celebrate theoccasion on this side of the world, we will do so on the other. Youare turning off here? Well, good-bye, and many, many thanks to you.You cannot imagine how grateful I feel to you, and what a weight youhave taken off my mind."
"I am glad to hear it," said Browne; and then, shaking him by the hand,he crossed the road and made his way down St. James's Street."Confound it all!" he said to himself, as he walked along, "this isjust the sort of scrape my absurd mania for issuing invitations gets meinto. I like Maas well enough as an acquaintance, but I don't knowthat he is altogether the sort of fellow I should have chosen toaccompany me on an expedition like this. However, what's done cannotbe undone; and it is just possible, as his health is giving way, thathe will decide to leave us in Japan; then we shall be all right. If hedoesn't, and elects to go on with us--well, I suppose we must make thebest of it."
As he came to this philosophical conclusion, he turned the corner fromSt. James's Street into Pall Mall, and ran into the arms of the veryman for whom he was in search. Foote was evidently in as great a hurryas himself, and, such was the violence of the shock, that it was awonderful thing that they did not both fall to the ground.
"Hang it, man, why don't you look where you're going?" Foote criedangrily, as he put his hand to his head to hold on his hat. As he didso he recognised Browne.
"Hullo, old chap, it's you, i
s it?" he cried. "By Jove! do you knowyou nearly knocked me down?"
"It's your own fault," Browne answered snappishly. "What do you meanby charging round the corner like that? You might have known whatwould happen."
They stood and looked at one another for a moment, and then Foote burstout laughing. "My dear old fellow," he said, "what on earth's wrongwith you? You don't seem to be yourself this morning."
"I'm not," said Browne. "Nothing seems to go right with me, do what Iwill. I tell you, Jimmy, I'm the biggest ass that walks the earth."
Jimmy whistled softly to himself. "This is plainly a case whichdemands the most careful treatment," he said aloud. "From what I cansee of it, it will be necessary for me to prescribe for him. Mytreatment will be a good luncheon and a pint of the Widow to wash itdown. Come along." So saying, he slipped his arm through that of hiscompanion, and led him back in the direction of the Monolith Club."Now, Master Browne," he said, as they walked along, "you will justtell me everything,--hiding nothing, remember, and setting down naughtin malice. For the time being you must look upon me as yourfather-confessor."
"In point of fact, Jimmy," Browne began, "I have just seen our friendMaas."
"Well, what of that?" replied the other. "How has that upset you?From what I know of him, Maas is usually amusing, except when he getson the topic of his ailments."
"That's exactly it," said Browne. "He got on the subject of hisailments with me. The upshot of it all was that he reminded me of aninvitation I had given him in Paris, half in jest, mind you, to visitthe East with me."
"The deuce!" said Jimmy. "Do you mean to say that he has decided toaccompany us, now?"
"That's just it," said Browne. "That's why I'm so annoyed; and yet Idon't know exactly why I should be, for, all things considered, he isnot a bad sort of a fellow."
"Nevertheless, I wish he were not coming with us," said Jimmy, withunwonted emphasis. "Did you tell him anything of what you are going todo?"
"Of course not," said Browne. "I did not even hint at it. As far ashe knows, I am simply visiting Japan in the ordinary way, for pleasure."
"Well, if I were you," said Jimmy, "I should let him remain in thatbelief. I should not say anything about the real reason at all, andeven then not until we are on the high seas. Of course I don't mean toimply, for an instant, that he would be likely to say anything, or togive you away in any possible sort of fashion; but still it would besafer, I should think, to keep silence on the subject. You know whatwe are going to do, I know it, Miss Petrovitch knows it, and MadameBernstein also. Who else is there you have told?"
"No one," said Browne. "But I dropped a hint to Mason that the errand,that was taking us out, was a peculiar one. I thought he ought to knowas much as that for more reasons than one."
"Quite right," said Jimmy; "and what's more, you can trust Mason.Nevertheless, say nothing to Maas."
"You may depend upon it I will not do so," said Browne.
"Now here's the club," said Jimmy, as they reached the building inquestion. "Let us go in and have some luncheon. After that what areyou going to do?"
"I am off to Paris this afternoon," the other replied. "MadameBernstein and Miss Petrovitch leave for Japan in one of the Frenchboats the day after to-morrow, and I want to see them before they go."
After luncheon with Foote, Browne returned to his house, wrote a lettercontaining the most minute instructions to Captain Mason, and later oncaught the afternoon express for Paris. The clocks of the Frenchcapital were striking eleven as he reached his hotel that night. Hewas worn out, and retired almost immediately to bed, though it wouldhave required but little persuasion to have taken him off to the RueJacquarie. As it was, however, he had to content himself with thereflection, that he was to see her the very first thing in the morning.