CHAPTER III
It seemed to the two women, brief though the period of actual silencewas, that in those few seconds they jointly conceived definite andlasting impressions of the man who was to become, during the next fewweeks, an object of the deepest concern to both of them. The intruderwas slightly built, of little more than medium height, of darkcomplexion, with an almost imperceptible moustache of military pattern,black hair dishevelled with the wind, and eyes of almost peculiarbrightness. He carried himself with an assurance which was somewhatremarkable considering the condition of his torn and mud stainedclothes, the very quality of which was almost undistinguishable. Theyboth, curiously enough, formed the same instinctive conviction that,notwithstanding his tramplike appearance and his burglarious entrance,this was not a person to be greatly feared.
The stranger brushed aside Philippa's incoherent exclamation and openedthe conversation with some ceremony.
"Ladies," he began, with a low bow, "in the first place let me offermy most profound apologies for this unusual form of entrance to yourhouse."
Philippa rose from her easy-chair and confronted him. The firelightplayed upon her red-gold hair, and surprise had driven the wearinessfrom her face. Against the black oak of the chimneypiece she had almostthe appearance of a framed cameo. Her voice was quite steady, althoughits inflection betrayed some indignation.
"Will you kindly explain who you are and what you mean by thisextraordinary behaviour?" she demanded.
"It is my earnest intention to do so without delay," he assured her, hiseyes apparently rivetted upon Philippa. "Kindly pardon me."
He held out his arm to stop Helen, who, with her eye upon the bell, hadmade a stealthy attempt to slip past him. Her eyes flashed as she felthis fingers upon her arm.
"How dare you attempt to stop me!" she exclaimed.
"My dear Miss Fairclough," he remonstrated, "in the interests of allof us, it is better that we should have a few moments of undisturbedconversation. I am taking it for granted that I have the pleasure ofaddressing Miss Fairclough?"
There was something about the man's easy confidence which was, in itsway, impressive yet irritating. Helen appeared bereft of words andretreated to her place almost mildly. Philippa's very delicate eyebrowswere drawn together in a slight frown.
"You are acquainted with our names, then?"
"Perfectly," was the suave reply. "You, I presume, are Lady Cranston? Imay be permitted to add," he went on, looking at her steadfastly, "thatthe description from which I recognise you does you less than justice."
"I find that remark, under the circumstances, impertinent," Philippatold him coldly.
He shrugged his shoulders. There was a slight smile upon his lips andhis eyes twinkled.
"Alas!" he murmured, "for the moment I forgot the somewhat unusualcircumstances of our meeting. Permit me to offer you what I trust youwill accept as the equivalent of a letter of introduction."
"A letter of introduction," Philippa repeated, glancing at hisdisordered clothes, "and you come in through the window!"
"Believe me," the intruder assured her, "it was the only way."
"Perhaps you will tell me, then," Philippa demanded, her anger graduallygiving way to bewilderment, "what is wrong with my front door?"
"For all I know, dear lady," the newcomer confessed, "yours may bean excellent front door. I would ask you, however, to consider myappearance. I have been obliged to conclude the last few miles of myjourney in somewhat ignominious fashion. My clothes--they were quitenice clothes, too, when I started," he added, looking down at himselfruefully--"have suffered. And, as you perceive, I have lost my hat."
"Your hat?" Helen exclaimed, with a sudden glance at Nora's trophy.
"Precisely! I might have posed before your butler, perhaps, as belongingto what you call the hatless brigade, but the mud upon my clothes,and these unfortunate rents in my garments, would have necessitated anexplanation which I thought better avoided. I make myself quite clear, Itrust?"
"Clear?" Philippa murmured helplessly.
"Clear?" Helen echoed, with a puzzled frown.
"I mean, of course," their visitor explained, "so far as regards mychoosing this somewhat surreptitious form of entrance into your house."
Philippa shrugged her shoulders and made a determined move towards thebell. The intruder, however, barred her way. She looked up into hisface and found it difficult to maintain her indignation. His expression,besides being distinctly pleasant, was full of a respectful admiration.
"Will you please let me pass?" she insisted.
"Madam," he replied, "I am afraid that it is your intention to ring thebell."
"Of course it is," she admitted. "Don't dare to prevent me."
"Madam, I do not wish to prevent you," he assured her. "A few moments'delay--that is all I plead for."
"Will you explain at once, sir," Philippa demanded, "what you mean byforcing your way into my house in this extraordinary fashion, and bylocking that door?"
"I am most anxious to do so," was the prompt reply. "I am correct, ofcourse, in my first surmise that you are Lady Cranston--and you MissFairclough?" he added, bowing ceremoniously to both of them. "A verygreat pleasure! I recognised you both quite easily, you see, from yourdescriptions."
"From our descriptions?" Philippa repeated.
The newcomer bowed.
"The descriptions, glowing, indeed, but by no means exaggerated, of yourbrother Richard, Lady Cranston, and your fiance, Miss Fairclough."
"Richard?" Philippa almost shrieked.
"You have seen Dick?" Helen gasped.
The intruder dived in his pockets and produced two sealed envelopes. Hehanded one each simultaneously to Helen and to Philippa.
"My letters of introduction," he explained, with a little sigh ofrelief. "I trust that during their perusal you will invite me to havesome tea. I am almost starving."
The two women hastened towards the lamp.
"One moment, I beg," their visitor interposed. "I have established, Itrust, my credentials. May I remind you that I was compelled to ensurethe safety of these few minutes' conversation with you, by locking thatdoor. Are you likely to be disturbed?"
"No, no! No chance at all," Philippa assured him.
"If we are, we'll explain," Helen promised.
"In that case," the intruder begged, "perhaps you will excuse me."
He moved towards the door and softly turned the key, then he drew thecurtains carefully across the French windows. Afterwards he made his waytowards the tea-table. A little throbbing cry had broken from Helen'slips.
"Philippa," she exclaimed, "it's from Dick! It's Dick's handwriting!"
Philippa's reply was incoherent. She was tearing open her own envelope.With a well-satisfied smile, the bearer of these communications seized asandwich in one hand and poured himself out some tea with the other. Heate and drank with the restraint of good-breeding, but with a voracitywhich gave point to his plea of starvation. A few yards away, thebreathless silence between the two women had given place to an almosthysterical series of disjointed exclamations.
"It's from Dick!" Helen repeated. "It's his own dear handwriting. Howshaky it is! He's alive and well, Philippa, and he's found a friend."
"I know--I know," Philippa murmured tremulously. "Our parcels have beendiscovered, and he got them all at once. Just fancy, Helen, he's reallynot so ill, after all!"
They drew a little closer together.
"You read yours out first," Helen proposed, "and then I'll read mine."
Philippa nodded. Her voice here and there was a little uncertain.
MY DEAREST SISTER,
I have heard nothing from you or Helen for so long that I was really getting desperate. I have had a very rough time here, but by the grace of Providence I stumbled up against an old friend the other day, Bertram Maderstrom, whom you must have heard me speak of in my college days. It isn't too much to say that he has saved my life. He has unearthed your parcels, found me decent qua
rters, and I am getting double rations. He has promised, too, to get this letter through to you.
You needn't worry about me now, dear. I am feeling twice the man I was a month ago, and I shall stick it out now quite easily.
Write me as often as ever you can. Your letters and Helen's make all the difference.
My love to you and to Henry. Your affectionate brother, RICHARD.
P.S. Is Henry an Admiral yet? I suppose he was in the Jutland scrap, which they all tell us here was a great German victory. I hope he came out all right.
Philippa read the postscript with a little shiver. Then she set herteeth as though determined to ignore it.
"Isn't it wonderful!" she exclaimed, turning towards Helen with glowingeyes. "Now yours, dear?"
Helen's voice trembled as she read. Her eyes, too, at times were misty:
DEAREST,
I am writing to you so differently because I feel that you will really get this letter. I have bad an astonishing stroke of luck, as you will gather from Philippa's note. You can't imagine the difference. A month ago I really thought I should have to chuck it in. Now I am putting on flesh every day and beginning to feel myself again. I owe my life to a pal with whom I was at college, and whom you and I, dearest, will have to remember all our lives.
I think of you always, and my thoughts are like the flowers of which we see nothing in these hideous huts. My greatest joy is in dreaming of the day when we shall meet again.
Write to me often, sweetheart. Your letters and my thoughts of you are the one joy of my life.
Always your lover, DICK.
There were a few moments of significant silence. The girls were leaningtogether, their arms around one another's necks, their heads almosttouching. Behind them, their visitor continued to eat and drink. He roseat last, however, reluctantly to his feet, and coughed. They started,suddenly remembering his presence. Philippa turned impulsively towardshim with outstretched hands.
"I can't tell you how thankful we are to you," she declared.
"Both of us," Helen echoed.
He touched with his fingers a box of cigarettes which stood upon thetea-table.
"You permit?" he asked.
"Of course," Philippa assented eagerly. "You will find some matches onthe tray there. Do please help yourself. I am afraid that I must haveseemed very discourteous, but this has all been so amazing. Won't youhave some fresh tea and some toast, or wouldn't you like some moresandwiches?"
"Nothing more at present, thank you," he replied. "If you do not mind, Iwould rather continue our conversation."
"These letters are wonderful," Philippa told him gratefully. "You knowfrom whom they come, of course. Dick is my twin brother, and until thewar we had scarcely ever been parted. Miss Fairclough here is engagedto be married to him. It is quite two months since we had a line, andI myself have been in London for the last three days, three very wearydays, making enquiries everywhere."
"I am very happy," he said, "to have brought you such good news."
Once more the normal aspect of the situation began to reimpose itselfupon the two women. They remembered the locked door, the secrecy oftheir visitor's entrance, and his disordered condition.
"May I ask to whom we are indebted for this great service?" Philippaenquired.
"My name for the present is Hamar Lessingham," was the suave reply.
"For the present?" Philippa repeated. "You have perhaps, someexplanations to make," she went on, with some hesitation; "the conditionof your clothes, your somewhat curious form of entrance?"
"With your permission."
"One moment," Helen intervened eagerly. "Is it possible, Mr. Lessingham,that you have seen Major Felstead lately?"
"A matter of fifty-six hours ago, Miss Fairclough. I am happy to tellyou that he was looking, under the circumstances, quite reasonablywell."
Helen caught up a photograph from the table by her side, and came overto their visitor's side.
"This was taken just before he went out the first time," she continued."Is he anything like that now?"
Mr. Hamar Lessingham sighed and shook his head.
"You must expect," he warned her, "that prison and hospital have hadtheir effect upon him. He was gaining strength every day, however, whenI left."
Philippa held out her hand. She had been looking curiously at theirvisitor.
"Helen, dear, afterwards we will get Mr. Lessingham to talk to us aboutDick," she insisted. "First there are some questions which I must ask."
He bowed slightly and drew himself up. For a moment it seemed as thoughthey were entering upon a duel--the slight, beautiful woman and the manin rags.
"Just now," she began, "you told us that you saw Major Felstead, mybrother, fifty-six hours ago."
"That is so," he assented.
"But it is impossible!" she pointed out. "My brother is a prisoner ofwar in Germany."
"Precisely," he replied, "and not, I am afraid, under the happiestconditions, he has been unfortunate in his camp. Let us talk about him,shall we?"
"Are you mad," Helen demanded, "or are you trying to confuse us?"
"My dear young lady!" he protested. "Why suppose such a thing? I wasflattering myself that my conversation and deportment were, under thecircumstances, perfectly rational."
"But you are talking nonsense," Philippa insisted. "You say that you sawMajor Felstead fifty-six hours ago. You cannot mean us to believe thatfifty-six hours ago you were at Wittenberg."
"That is precisely what I have been trying to tell you," he agreed.
"But it isn't possible!" Helen gasped.
"Quite, I assure you," he continued; "in fact, we should have beenhere before but for a little uncertainty as to your armaments along thecoast. There was a gun, we were told, somewhere near here, which we werecredibly informed had once been fired without the slightest accident."
Philippa's eyes seemed to grow larger and rounder.
"He's raving!" she decided.
"He isn't!" Helen cried, with sudden divination. "Is that your hat?" sheasked, pointing to the table where Nora had left her trophy.
"It is," he admitted with a smile, "but I do not think that I will claimit."
"You were in the observation car of that Zeppelin!"
Lessingham extended his hand.
"Softly, please," he begged. "You have, I gather, arrived at thetruth, but for the moment shall it be our secret? I made an exceedinglyuncomfortable, not to say undignified descent from the Zeppelin whichpassed over Dutchman's Common last night."
"Then," Philippa cried, "you are a German!"
"My dear lady, I have escaped that misfortune," Lessingham confessed."Do you think that none other than Germans ride in Zeppelins?"