The Lord of the Sea - Part 30
Library

Part 30

In June, John Loveday being then at Westring, one morning O'Hara arrived, he, too, having left mediaeval chasubles to grind at war, and though he no longer taught Hogarth, a relation persisted between them; and always not far from O'Hara was to be found Harris, living now on the pinnacle of dandy bliss, twisting a dandy stick.

It was on the last night of this visit to Westring that O'Hara at a late hour went with stealth and hesitations along a corridor of the Hall, and finally tapped at Loveday's door, who, detesting the priest, and reading in bed, disgustedly dashed off his cigarette ash, as he called: "Come in".

And a long time they spoke of things other than the real object of O'Hara's visit, till O'Hara said: "But--may I ask you something?"

"Do".

"Well, now, you are a fellow more in the counsels of Hogarth than another. I want to ask you right out frankly--is it a fact that Hogarth is choosing Admirals for the islands?"

"I believe it is", answered Loveday with his long-bow smile of amus.e.m.e.nt: "I already know, for example, that Saltoun will admiral the _Homer_ in the Indian Ocean, Vladimir the _Ruskin_ in the Atlantic Crescent, and the young Marquis of Erroll the _Justice_ in the Yellow Sea".

"Those all?"

"All I know of. I believe, however, that Hogarth is in the throes of decision as to the rest".

"I see".

There was a silence full of Loveday's smile.

"But", said O'Hara, "what I meant is this: you know what I have been to Hogarth; without me, what could the poor fellow have done, after all?

I have taught him to think, to dance, and to dine. Now, then, I ask you right out frankly--am _I_, my son, in the list of Admirals?"

Loveday, flushing, started upright, and sank back. "No, I don't fancy that your name is among those entertained, O'Hara".

"We will see about that. Woe to Hogarth, and to his advisers, if he dare slight O'Hara, my son! What! after preparing myself with toilsome zeal for this post? and after two promises from Hogarth's own lips--?"

"I deny the promises on Hogarth's behalf".

"Oh, you! Hogarth looks upon you as a plaything. I do a.s.sure you, you are not taken seriously, Mr. Loveday. How should such as you know what Hogarth promises or designs? "--his cheeks trembling.

And, Loveday, smiling again, though pale: "Well, if we admit the promises...but--have you accurately acquainted Hogarth with your past, sir?"

"Most decidedly, sir!"

"If you have not, I think he should know it".

"Your threats do not affect me, sir! In three days I shall be in Petersburg with Hogarth, and shall take a pleasure in writing you the name of the island to which I am appointed".

"In three days I also--!" He stopped: but O'Hara understood.

Now the door rushed open, and in looked Harris in under-vest and drawers, beneath his arm a bundle of walkingsticks, which he had been caring and telling.

And "'Ere", he drawled, "when are you coming to 'ave that bit of cold mutton? It's past twelve o'clock as it is".

"I am coming, boy", said O'Hara, rising with brisk obedience.

"Then, come, why don't you! There were shepherds watching their pretty little flocks by night, but to leave a man watching the cold animal is a bit out. Come along!"--and O'Hara went.

He reached Petersburg twelve hours before Loveday, his reason for choosing that time being his knowledge that Frankl was in Petersburg, and with him Rebekah, Frankl being in a deal with the new-regime Minister of Finance.

For, as O'Hara had been asking himself the agonized question: "By what absolute _finesse_ can I, _just now_, win Hogarth?" the mere presence of Rebekah in the same city with Hogarth drew him thither.

But the next day, when Loveday came, nothing had been done--no chance of _tete-a-tete_ with Hogarth: and that day was O'Hara an anxious and tremulous man, living on the tip-toe and _qui vive_ of lynx-eyed keenness.

The same night at a masque at the Palace of Peterhof Loveday got a chance of dialogue with Hogarth, they seated amid greenery and coloured gleams, Hogarth groomed to the glittering gla.s.s of his shoes, his legs stretched, arm akimbo; and presently Loveday led the talk to things of the sea. "What an extraordinary activity! The British Government launches the _Peleus_ next Monday at Deptford--the first 28,000-ton war-boat; and seven cruisers on the slips. Then the French, Austro-German, Russian--"

"Ha!--I know. They won't build long".

"Still the confidence?"

"You can only ask, my dear boy, because you do not yet see what a thing the battleship really is--much more than half a sham. The march of invention is from the complex to the simple: for simplicity is strength; but to the moment when I began to construct, naval construction had not followed this law: for from the old smooth-bores, aimed with tackle and quoin, to the present regime of electric wires, you have had a continual advance in complexity--always within the same little arc of thought--till now the most complex of things is a battleship; and if you ask me which is the weaker, a battleship or a watch, I answer a battleship--_weak_ meaning liability to the injuries which they were built to resist. In such a case as that of the _Maine_, sunk at Havana, one might fancy that the task of naval constructors is to turn out a thing to sink with a minimum of trouble; and you remember the _Camperdown_ and _Victoria_, how, playing about together, one happened to touch the other, when down plunged that other. These ships are a compromise between three _motifs_--speed, resisting attack, and attacking: and the first is so antagonistic to the second, and also to the third, that the net result is almost a Nonent.i.ty, or No-Thing.

Nothing, in fact, could be more _queer_, unfounded, than these ships; and the future will look back upon them with pity. Hence the simple islands, following the law: and don't think t hat their efficacy is a thing riskier than arithmetic itself."

"Good", went Loveday. "But, Richard--captain your islands with decent men".

"You have something on your mind: what is it?"

"It is--delicate. Have I your permission to speak?"

"Why, John, yes".

"Well then--is O'Hara to be an Admiral?"

"Old Pat? Hardly, I think. He may. But no--I don't think. Poor old talky-talky. He has worked hard for us, John: and his fund of experience, in one way and another, has been invaluable. Well, I don't know: I have had the idea, but I don't suppose that, in reality--Still, I am fond of him, John. Such a tongue, and such a versatile brain, is he! He was my comfort for many a sombre day in prison--"

Listening near with rancid grin behind some greenery, O'Hara kept nodding emphatic a.s.sents of satisfaction to Hogarth's praise.

"But, stop", said Loveday: "do you know why he was in prison?"

"He was innocent".

"Of what?"

"Of stealing some diamonds entrusted him by the Pope".

"Bah! he lies. His trial was a _cause celebre_, and hence the false name he gave me at first: the moment I heard you say 'O'Hara' I knew the man.

He had committed an a.s.sault upon a lady in a train--"

"Beast that he is", went Hogarth, while O'Hara's eyes started from his head: "and liar, too, it seems. Ha!--he gave me the most circ.u.mstantial story. Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It was delicate--"

"Beast that he is. Yet how complex is character! the man's tenderness for his Church is so charming--"

"Fiddlesticks! Look here, Richard, I am come all the way from Westring to tell you this thing. Don't you give vast powers to that man: it isn't decent; and I have a feeling that it will be a baleful piece of weakness. And don't get easy, and tolerant, and fat in the eyes, Hogarth. That is a very significant Bible-story--the implacable disaster sent upon old Eli for no greater crime than a _bonhomme_ indolence.

And in order to arouse your wrath against this O'Hara, I am going now, against my will, to tell you something: the name of that lady in that train".

"Someone whom I know?"