"Just that, sir," said Bob, grinning. "Most of us have got them, I suppose--fellows of my age, anyhow. It's a bit difficult to come down to earth again, after years spent in the air."

"Very difficult," Harran agreed gravely. He glanced down with interest at the alert face and square-built figure of the boy beside him. There were so many of them, these boys who had played with Death for years.

They have saved their country from horror and ruin, and now it seemed very doubtful if their country wanted them. They were in every town in England, looking for work; their pitiful, plucky advertis.e.m.e.nts greeted the eye in every newspaper. The problem of their future interested General Harran keenly. He liked his boys; their freshness and pluck and unspoiled enthusiasm had been a tonic to him during the long years of war. Now it hurt him that they should be looking for the right to live.

"I'm just going to lunch, Rainham," he said. "Would you care to come with me?"

Bob lifted a quaintly astonished face.

"Thanks, awfully, sir," he stammered.

"Then jump on this 'bus, and we'll go to my club," said the General, swinging his lean, athletic body up the stairs of a pa.s.sing motor-'bus as he spoke. Bob followed, and they sped, rocking, through the packed traffic until the General, who had sat in silence, jumped up, threaded his way downstairs, and dropped to the ground again from the footboard of the hurrying 'bus--with a brief shake of the head to the conductor, who was prepared to check the speed of his craft to accommodate a pa.s.senger with such distinguished badges of rank. Bob was on the ground almost as quickly, and they turned out of the crowded street into a quieter one that presently led them into a silent square, where dignified grey houses looked out upon green trees, and the only traffic was that of gliding motors. General Harran led the way into one of the grey houses, up the steps of which officers were constantly coming and going. A grizzled porter in uniform, with the Crimean medal on his tunic, swung the door open and came smartly to attention as they pa.s.sed through. The General greeted him kindly.

"How are you, O'Shea? The rheumatism better?"

"It is, sir, thank you." They pa.s.sed on, through a great hall lined with oil-paintings of famous soldiers, and trophies of big game from all over the world; for this was a Service club, bearing a proud record of soldier and sailor members for a hundred years. Presently they were in the dining-room, already crowded. The waiter found them a little table in a quiet corner.

There was a sprinkling of men whom Bob already knew; he caught several friendly nods of recognition us he glanced round. Then General Harran pointed out others to him--Generals, whose names were household words in England--a notable Admiral, and a Captain with the V.C. ribbon--earned at Zeebrugge. He seemed to know every one, and once or twice he left his seat to speak to a friend--during which absence Bob's friends shot him amazed glances, with eyebrows raised in astonishment that he should be lunching with a real Major-General. Bob was somewhat tongue-tied with bewilderment over the fact himself. But when their cold beef came, General Harran soon put him at his ease, leading him to talk of himself and his plans with quiet tact. Before Bob fairly realized it he had unfolded all his little story--even to Tommy and her hardships. The General listened with interest.

"And was it Tommy I saw you with on Sat.u.r.day?"

"Yes, sir. She was awfully interested because it was you," blurted Bob.

"You see, she and I have always been pals. I'm jolly keen to get some place to take her to."

"And you think of Canada. Why?"

"Well--I really don't know, except that it would be out of reach of England and unpleasantness," Bob answered. "And my money would go a lot further there than here, wouldn't it, sir? Three thousand won't buy much of a place in England--not to make one's living by, I mean."

"That's true. I advise every youngster to get out to one of the new countries, and, of course, a man with a little capital has a far greater chance. But why Canada? Why not Australia?"

"There's no reason why not," said Bob laughing. "Only it seems further away. I don't know more of one country than the other--except the sort of vague idea we all have that Canada is all cold and Australia all heat!"

General Harran laughed.

"Yes--the average Englishman's ideas about the new countries are pretty sketchy," he said. "People always talk to me about the fearfully hot climate of Australia, and seem mildly surprised if I remark that we have about a dozen different climates, and that we have snow and ice, and very decent winter sports, in Victoria. I don't think they believe me, either. But seriously, Rainham, if you have no more leaning towards one country than the other, why not think of Australia? I could help you there, if you like."

"You, sir!" Bob stammered.

"Well, I can pull strings. I dare say I could manage a pa.s.sage out for you and your sister--you see, you were serving with the Australians, and you're both desirable immigrants--young and energetic people with a little capital. That would be all right, I think, especially now that the first rush is over. And I could give you plenty of introductions in Australia to the right sort of people. You ought to see something of the country, and what the life and work are, before investing your money.

It would be easy enough to get you on to a station or big farm--you to learn the business, and your sister to teach or help in the house. She wouldn't mind that for about a year, with nice people, would she?"

"Not she!" said Bob. "It was her own idea, in fact; only I didn't want to let her work. But I can see that it might be best. Only I don't know how to thank you, sir--I never imagined--"

General Harran cut him short.

"Don't worry about that. If I can help you, or any of the flying boys, out of a difficulty, and at the same time get the right type of settlers for Australia--she needs them badly--then I'm doing a double-barrelled job that I like. But see here--do I understand that what you really want to do is to take your sister without giving your father warning? To kidnap her, in short?"

"I don't see anything else to do, sir. I spoke to him a while ago about taking her away, and he only hummed and hawed and said he'd consult Mrs.

Rainham. And my stepmother will never let her go as long as she can keep her as a drudge. We owe them nothing--he's never been a father to us, and as for my stepmother--well, she should owe Tommy for two years' hard work. But honestly, to all intents and purposes, they are strangers to us--it seems absolutely ridiculous that we should be controlled by them."

"You say your aunt's family lawyer approves?"

"Yes, or he wouldn't let me have the money. I could get him to see you, sir, if you like; though I don't see why you should be bothered about us," said Bob flushing.

"Give me his address--I'll look in on him next time I'm in Lincoln's Inn," said the General. "Your own, too. Now, if I get you and your sister pa.s.sages on a troopship, can you start at short notice--say forty-eight hours?"

Bob gasped, but recovered himself. After all, his training in the air had taught him to make swift decisions.

"Any time after the fifteenth, sir. I'll be demobilized then, and a free agent. I'll get my kit beforehand."

"Don't get much," counselled the General. "You can travel in uniform--take flannels for the tropics; everything you need in Australia you can get just as well, or better, out there. Most fellows who go out take tons of unnecessary stuff. Come into the smoking-room and give me a few more details."

They came out upon the steps of the club a little later. Bob's head was whirling. He tried to stammer out more thanks and was cut short, kindly but decisively.

"That's all right, my boy. I'll send you letters of introduction to various people who will help you, and a bit of advice about where to go when you land. Tell your sister not to be nervous--she isn't going to a wild country, and the people there are much the same as anywhere else.

Now, good-bye, and good luck"; and Bob found himself walking across the Square in a kind of solemn amazement.

"This morning I was thinking of getting taken on as a farm hand in Devonshire, with Tommy somewhere handy in a labourer's cottage," he pondered. "And now I'm a bloated capitalist, and Tommy and I are going across the world to Australia as calmly as if we were off to Margate for the day! Well, I suppose it's only a dream, and I'll wake up soon.

I guess I'd better go back and tell Mr. M'Clinton; and I've got to see Tommy somehow." He bent his brows over the problem as he turned towards Lincoln's Inn.

CHAPTER VI

SAILING ORDERS

"Are you there, miss?"

The sepulchral whisper came faintly to Cecilia's ears as she sat in her little room, sewing a frock of Queenie's. The children were out in the garden at the back of the house. Mrs. Rainham was practising in the drawing-room. The sound of a high trill floated upwards as she opened the door.

"What is it, Eliza?"

"It's a letter, miss. A kid brought it to the kitchen door--a bit of a boy. Arsked for me as if 'e'd known me all 'is life--called me Elizer!

'E's waitin' for an answer. I'll wait in me room, miss, till you calls me." The little c.o.c.kney girl slipped away, revelling in furthering any scheme to defeat Mrs. Rainham and help Cecilia.

Cecilia opened the letter hurriedly. It contained only one line.

"Can you come at once to Lincoln's Inn? Important.--BOB."

Cecilia knitted her brows. It was nearly a month since the memorable evening when she and Bob had revolted; and though she was still made to feel herself in disgrace, and she knew her letters were watched, the close spying upon her movements had somewhat relaxed. It had been too uncomfortable for Mrs. Rainham to keep it up, since it made heavy demands upon her own time, and interfered with too many plans; moreover, in spite of it, Cecilia had slipped away from the house two or three times, going and coming openly, and replying to any questions by the simple answer that she had been to meet Bob. Angry outbreaks on the part of her stepmother she received in utter silence, against which the waves of Mrs. Rainham's wrath spent themselves in vain.

Indeed, the girl lived in a kind of waking dream of happy antic.i.p.ation, beside which none of the trials of life in Lancaster Gate had power to trouble her. For on her first stolen visit to Mr. M'Clinton's office the wonderful plan of flight to Australia had been revealed to her, and the joy of the prospect blotted out everything else. Mr. M'Clinton, watching her face, had been amazed by the wave of delight that had swept over it.

"You like it, then?" he had said. "You are not afraid to go so far?"

"Afraid--with Bob? Oh, the farther I can get from England the better,"

she had answered. "I have no friends here; nothing to leave, except the memory of two bad years. And out there I should feel safe--she could not get a policeman to bring me back." There was no need to ask who "she"

was.