"I haven't a thing but my pipe," he said. "But wait a moment! There used to be--yes. Look here!"

There was a drawer in a side-table near the great writing-table, and one division of it was half-full of cigarettes, the other of Upman's "Torpedoes."

"I will repay thee," I murmured irreverently, as I helped myself to one of each, and lit the cigarette, having obtained permission from Constance. It was the first tobacco I had tasted for forty-eight hours, and I was a very regular smoker. I had not known my need till then, a fact which will tell much to smokers.

"And now?" said Constance. Her eyelids were drooping heavily.

"Now I am going to take you straight out to South Kensington, and you are going to rest."

I had never used quite that tone to Constance before. I think, till now, hers had been the guiding and directing part. Yet her influence had never been stronger upon me than at that moment.

"Well, of course, there are no cabs or omnibuses," said Wardle, "but a man told me the Underground was running trains at six o'clock."

We had a long, long wait at Blackfriars' station, but a train came eventually, and we reached the flat in South Kensington as a neighbouring church clock struck ten. The journey was curious and impressive from first to last. Fleet Street had been very much alive still when we left it; and we saw long files of baggage wagons rumbling along between Prussian lancers. But Blackfriars was deserted, the ticket collector slept soundly on his box; the streets in South Kensington were silent as the grave.

London slept that night for the first time in a week. I learned afterwards how the long lines of German sentries in Pall Mall, Park Lane, and elsewhere slept solidly at their posts; how the Metropolitan police slept on their beats; how thousands of men, women, and children slept in the streets of South London, whither they had fled panic-stricken that morning. Conquerors and conquered together, the whole vast city slept that night as never perhaps before or since. After a week of terror, of effort, of despair, and of debauchery, the sorely stricken capital of the British Empire lay that night like a city of the dead. England and her invaders were worn out.

At the flat we found Mrs. Van Homrey placidly knitting.

"Well, young folk," she said cheerily; "I've had all the news, and there's nothing to be said; and--there's bath and bed waiting for you, Conny. I shall bring you something hot in your room."

Ah, the kindly comfort of that motherly soul's words! It was but a few hours since her "Conny" had stood by my side on ground that was literally blood-soaked. Since the previous night we had both seen Death in his most terrible guise; Death swinging his dripping scythe through scores of lives at a stroke. We had been in England's riven heart throughout the day of England's bitterest humiliation; and Mrs. Van Homrey had bed and bath waiting, with "something hot" for Constance to take in her room.

"But, Aunty, if you could have seen----"

"Dear child, I know it all." She patted her niece's shoulder, and I noticed the rings and the shiny softness of her fingers. She saw at a glance--indeed, had seen beforehand, in antic.i.p.ation--the wrought-up, exhausted condition Constance had reached. "I know it all, dear," she said soothingly. "But the time has come for rest now. Nothing else is any good till that is done with. Come, child. G.o.d will send better days for England. First, we must rest."

So Constance turned to leave the room.

"And you?" she said to me.

"I will see to him. You run along, my dear," said her aunt. So Constance took my hand.

"Good night, d.i.c.k. You have been very good and kind, and--patient. Good night!"

There was no spare bedroom in that little flat, but the dear old lady had actually made up a bed for me on a couch in the drawing-room, and before she retired for the night she made me free of the bathroom, and supplied me with towels and such like matters, and gave me cake and cocoa; a delicious repast I thought it. And so, while crushed and beaten London lay sleeping off its exhaustion, I slept under Constance Grey's roof, full of grat.i.tude, and of a kind of new hope and gladness, very foreign, one would have said, to my gruesome experiences of the past forty-eight hours.

England, the old victorious island kingdom, bequeathed to us by Raleigh, Drake, Nelson; the nineteenth-century England of triumphant commercialism; England till then inviolate for a thousand years; rich and powerful beyond all other lands; broken now under the invader's heel--that ancient England slept.

PART II

THE AWAKENING

Exoriare aliquis de nostris ex ossibus ultor.--VIRGIL.

I

THE FIRST DAYS

The river glideth at his own sweet will.

Dear G.o.d! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Without Thee, what is all the morning's wealth?

Come, blessed barrier between day and day, Dear Mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

WORDSWORTH.

It is safe to say that England's exhausted sleep on the night of Black Sat.u.r.day marked the end of an era in British history. It was followed by a curious, quiescent half-consciousness during Sunday. For the greater part of that day I should suppose that more than half London's populace continued its sleep.

One of the first things I realized after Monday morning's awakening in my Bloomsbury lodging was that I must find wages and work speedily, since I possessed no more than a very few pounds. As a fact, upon that and several subsequent days I found plenty of work, if nothing noticeable in the way of wages. I was second in command of one of the food and labour bureaux which Constance Grey helped to organize, and all the workers in these bureaux were volunteers.

Another of my first impressions after the crisis was a sense of my actual remoteness, in normal circ.u.mstances, from Constance. Her father had left Constance a quite sufficient income. Mrs. Van Homrey was in her own right comfortably well-to-do. But, despite the exiguous nature of my own resources, it was not the money question which impressed me most in this connection, but rather the fact that, while my only acquaintances in London were of a more or less discreditable sort, Constance seemed to have friends everywhere, and these in almost every case people of standing and importance. Her army friends were apt to be generals, her political friends ex-Ministers, her journalistic friends editors, and so forth. And I---- But you have seen my record up to this point.

n.o.body could possibly want Constance so much as I did, I thought. But an astonishing number of persons of infinitely more consequence than myself seemed to delight to honour her, to obtain her cooperation. And I loved her. There was no possibility of my mistaking the fact. I had been used to debate with myself regarding Sylvia Wheeler. There was no room for debate where my feeling for Constance was concerned. The hour of her breakdown in Fleet Street on Black Sat.u.r.day had taught me so much.

In the face of my circ.u.mstances just then, the idea of making any definite disclosure of my feelings to Constance seemed impracticable.

Yet there was one intimate pa.s.sage between us during that week, the nature of which I cannot precisely define. I know I conveyed some hint to Constance of my feeling toward her, and I was made vaguely conscious that anything like a declaration of love would have seemed shocking to her at that time. She held that, at such a juncture, no merely personal interests ought to be allowed to weigh greatly with any one. The country's call upon its subjects was all-absorbing in the eyes of this "one little bit of a girl from South Africa," as Crondall had called her. It made me feel ashamed to realize how far short I fell (even after the shared experiences culminating in Black Sat.u.r.day) of her personal standard of patriotism. Even now, my standing in her eyes, my immediate personal needs, loomed nearer, larger in my mind than England's fate. I admitted as much with some shamefacedness, and Constance said:

"Ah, well, d.i.c.k, I suspect that is a natural part of life lived entirely in England, the England of the past. There was so little to arouse the other part in one. All the surrounding influences were against it. My life has been different. Once one has lived, in one's own home, through a native rising, for instance, purely personal interests never again seem quite so absorbing. The elemental things had been so long shut out of English life. Why, do you know----?" And she began to tell me of one of the schemes in which she was interested; in connection with which I learned of a cable message she had received that day telling that John Crondall was then on his way to England.

The least forgiving critics of "The Destroyers" have admitted that they did their best and worked well during those strange weeks which came immediately after the invasion. One reason of this was that party feeling in politics had been scotched. The House of Commons met as one party. There was no longer any real Opposition, unless one counted a small section of rabid anti-Britishers, who were incapable of learning a lesson; and even they carped but feebly, while the rest of the House devoted its united energies to the conduct of the country's shattered business with the single aim of restoring normal conditions. Throughout the country two things were tacitly admitted. That the Government in power must presently answer for its doings to the public before ceasing to be a Government; and that the present was no time for such business as that of a general election.

And so we had the spectacle of a Government which had entirely lost the confidence of the electors, a Government anathematized from the Orkneys to Land's End, carrying on its work with a unison and a complete freedom from opposition such as had not been known before, even by the biggest majority or the most popular Administration which had ever sat at Westminster. For the first time, and by no effort of our own, we obtained the rule of an Imperial Parliament devoted to no other end than the nation's welfare. The House of Commons witnessed many novel spectacles at that time--such as consultations between the leading members of the Government and the Opposition. Most of its members learned many valuable lessons in those first weeks of the new regime. It is to be supposed that the Surrender Riot had taught them something.

It must also be admitted that General, or, as he now was, General Baron von Fuchter, accomplished some fine work during this same period. It has been said that he was but consulting the safety of his Imperial master's armed forces; but credit may safely be given the General for the discretion and despatch he used in distributing the huge body of troops at his command, without hitch or friction, to the various centres which it was his plan to occupy. His was a hand of iron, but he used it to good purpose; and the few errors of his own men were punished with an even more crushing severity than he showed where British offences were concerned.

The task of garrisoning those English ports with German soldiers was no light or easy one; no task for a light or gentle hand. In carrying out this undertaking a very little weakness, a very small display of indecision, might easily have meant an appalling amount of bloodshed. As it was, the whole business was completed in a wonderfully short while, and with remarkable smoothness. The judicial and munic.i.p.al administration of these centres was to remain English; but supreme authority was vested in the officer commanding the German forces in each place, and the heads of such departments as the postal and the police, were German. No kind of public gathering or demonstration was permissible in these towns, unless under the auspices of the German officer in command, who in each case was given the rank of Governor of the town.

We had learned by this time that the Channel Fleet had not been entirely swept away. But a portion of it was destroyed, and the remaining ships had been entrapped. It was strategy which had kept British ships from our coasts during the fatal week of the invasion. "The Destroyers" were responsible for our weak-kneed concessions to Berlin some years earlier, in the matter of wireless telegraphy. In the face of urgent recommendations to the contrary from experts, the Government had yielded to German pressure in the matter of making our own system interchangeable, and had even boasted of their diplomacy in thus ingratiating themselves with Germany. As a consequence, the enemy had been able to convey messages purporting to come from the British Admiralty and ordering British commanders to keep out of home waters.

That these messages should have been conveyed in secret code form was a mystery which subsequent investigations failed to solve. Some one had played traitor. But the history of the invasion has shown us that we had very many traitors among us in those days; and there came a time when the British public showed clearly that it was weary of Commissions of Inquiry. Where so many, if not indeed all of us, were at fault, where the penalty was so crushing, it was felt that there were other and more appropriate openings for official energy and public interest than the mere apportioning of blame and punishment, however well deserved.

The issue of what was called the "Invasion Budget" was Parliament's first important act, after the dispersal of the German forces in England, and the termination of the Government distribution of food supplies. The alterations of customs tariff were not particularly notable. The House had agreed that revenue was the objective to be considered, and fiscal adjustments with reference to commerce were postponed for the time. The great change was in the income-tax. The minimum income to be taxed was 100 instead of, as formerly, 160. The scale ran like this: sixpence in the pound upon incomes of between 100 and 150, ninepence from that to 200, one shilling from that to 250, one and threepence from that to 500, one and sixpence from that to 1,000, two shillings upon all incomes of between 1,000 and 5,000, and four shillings in the pound upon all incomes of over 5,000.

It was on the day following that of the Invasion Budget issue that I received a letter from my sister Lucy, in Davenham Minster, telling me of my mother's serious illness, and asking me to come to her at once.

And so, after a hurried visit to the South Kensington flat to explain my absence to Constance, I turned my back upon London, for the first time in a year, and journeyed down into Dorset.