Roland Pertwee

“ In every scene they bubbled up through the lines, like vortices in quicksand. A thousand fine points of psychology that needed assembling, refining and giving prominence. Eliphalet was bewildered by their numbers; he did not know where or how to start work upon them, and he sat by the footlights, brows contracted, finger-tips together, in silent dissatisfaction with himself and the play. On the seventh day of rehearsals he rose distractedly, and exclaimed:
“We are not getting on, ladies and gentlemen. I am sure we are all doing our best, but we are not getting any forrader.” ”

“ A couple of artists were wrestling valiantly with the thousand subtle difficulties of the scene—trying to transmit to canvas the changing lights upon the water, the pink blush on the white-washed houses and the dull grey shadows on the mud. It was a scene calm and sweet enough to awaken gentleness and set romance astir but in Harrison Smith's mind it inspired no more than a sense of doubt and disappointment. Surely this tiny harbour was an unlikely landing for a man to choose who carried in his pocket the key to millions. ”

“ He must not slip upon the peel that lies in the highway, nor turn aside to escape its menace; he must crush it beneath his heel as he strides along, a smile upon his lips, his cane swinging—the veriest picture of majesty and resource.
Wynne Rendall found his hero that Sunday in Richmond Park, and worshipped him with the intense devotion of which only a boy is capable. God, he conceived, must have had some very personal handiwork in the fashioning of Uncle Clem. He saw him as a man possessed of every possible charm and virtue, without one single unpleasing factor to offset them. ”

“ Anthony Barraclough, wrapped in a suit of borrowed oilskins, leaned against the deck-house and grinned at the breaking day. Like a fire opal the sun rose out of the sea, its first rays dissipating the ghostlike wisps of fog that drifted over the water. The "Felice" was shouldering her way up channel against the slap of a running tide and the greeny-black waves, as yet undyed by the morning blue, spumed and spattered over the bows and wetted her decks with a sharp salt rain.
"Oh, Lord!" said Barraclough, dashing the spray out of his eyes. "Oh,
Lord! it's good to be alive." ”

“ The poster which preceded him to town displayed a well-proportioned man, whose head tilted fearlessly upon broad shoulders, and whose eyes shone as with a smouldering fire. A full growth of hair projected from under the curving brim of a Trilby hat. He wore a flowing tie, a fur-collared coat, and in his right hand carried an ivory-topped Malacca cane of original design. It was a striking poster, executed many years before, and everyone who knew it, and knew Eliphalet, marvelled how the original still continued to realise the picture in every detail. ”

“ Uncle Clem walked awhile in silence. When he began to talk it was almost as if he were speaking to himself.
“Queer trusting folk, we mortals,” he said. “And we set ourselves such wonderful tasks. How old Dame Nature must laugh at us and all our philosophies. Fancy two young people locking up the spark of love which had sprung between them, packing it away in a secret safe, and believing it could be brought to life when convenience allowed. How old Dame Nature must laugh! Can’t you imagine her peeping into the safe to see how the spark is getting along?” He turned suddenly upon Eve. ”

“ Eliphalet was amazed. Never before had he seen anyone more liberally endowed with natural ability. And yet he knew this ability was misguided—that Mornice June suffered from a fatal facility.
Spontaneous ease of obtaining effects is perhaps the most dangerous asset an artist may possess. You will find it in legions of draughtsmen, who will dash off what is seemingly the cleverest sketch and actually a mere tangle of inaccuracy—wrong in every line and detail. They are born with a box of tricks—any one of which may be drawn from its docket at a second’s notice. ”

“ It was in that instant of admiration and amazement she recognised him as another man and the cry burst from her lips:
"You're not Anthony Barraclough!"
Richard wavered visibly and for the first time she saw real fear in his eye.
"What are you saying? You're mad," he answered.
"You're not Anthony Barraclough!"
"I am. I am."
"No!" She seized him by the shoulders and stared into his face.
"You're different, your eyes, your mouth. Who are you?"
"Anthony Barraclough!" he cried.
"It's not true. Anthony would never have stood this. The men, yes.
The torture, yes, but he always gives way to a woman. ”

“ He, Wynne, would do something—he felt the immediate need to do something—he would do something great. People, beholding what he had done, would exclaim, “This is marvellous! Why have we not been shown these wonders before?” Then they would feel for him the same admiration he felt for Uncle Clem.
In the midst of these rapturous reflections came the thought that perhaps he was a little young to become the leader of a new movement. This, however, in no wise oppressed him. The younger the better. The distillations of his soul would be none the less rare for being contained in a small vessel. ”

“ Barraclough saw the flash out of the tail of his eye and simultaneously his motor cycle seemed to leap forward with a noisy roar. The bullet had struck the exhaust pipe cutting it clear of the silencer and making him a gift of five miles an hour. A new life seemed to run through the veins of the machine and the hill flattened out before him like a level track. As he realised the charity of Fate, Barraclough lifted a gladsome "Yoicks" and waved his right arm above his head. Again the pistol cracked and a red hot knitting needle seemed to pass through the palm of his hand. ”

“ To a young man of gentle upbringing it required no small courage to turn down that narrow alley towards the stage-door—that alley which in his imagination was at the conclusion of each evening performance probably chock-a-block with the gilded youth of the city, each one bearing a bouquet of exotic flowers designed to anæsthetise the blossom of his heart into accepting their addresses. ”

“ Frailty excites kindly resolves from the generous-hearted. She found his features attractive, despite their irregularity, and his eyes appealed to her enormously. They were such plucky eyes, eyes that would look the world in the face unfalteringly and support with impertinent courage the wildest views which the mobile, cynical, and weak mouth might choose to utter.
When anything pleased her, Eve laughed—not so much a laugh of amusement as a purr of satisfaction. The unusual appealed to her, and beyond all doubt Wynne Rendall was unusual. ”

“ Sleep comes very suddenly to the weary—like a pistol shot out of the dark. Cranbourne's head pitched forward against his chest and his hands slithered inertly from his knees.
He awoke with a start to the sound of smashing glass, a sharp rattle of imprecations and a sense of being turned upside down. The front nearside wheel of the taxi was in a ditch, the wind screen broken and a large dray horse was trying to put its fore hoof through the buckled bonnet. The taxi driver had fallen out and lay cursing gently on the grass slope to the left, one of his legs was up to the knee in water. ”

“ Eliphalet had quite made up his mind to engage Mornice on a long contract, not only for her talent, but because he could not endure the thought of losing sight of her. Somehow she filled an empty space in his heart that long had craved for a tenant. It is good for a man to have some interests in life outside his work, and he had none.
There was something in Mornice that awoke a queer familiarity with another episode of his life, but when he tried to place the impression it would not develop. Was it perhaps with scatter-brained little Eunice Terry, whom he had disillusioned about the stage? No! ”

“ In the hearts of provincial playgoers there were still warm places for Eliphalet Cardomay, and the rich cadences of his voice never failed to arouse strange emotions and irrepressible yearnings in the bosoms of impressionable young ladies, who wrote and confided their admiration with surpassing regularity and singular lack of reserve.
To his own company he was always courteous and considerate, but a trifle remote. He wrapped himself about in mystery, and as no one knew exactly how to take him very few made the attempt.
“The public man should always be an enigma.” ”

“ To the island of Notre Dame Wynne directed his steps, and spent an hour of sheer delight with imagination let loose. Romance breathed in the air around him, and memory of dead things sprang to life. He pictured himself back in Dumas’ days—with king’s men and cardinals—swashbuckling on the footway—with masked ladies flitting into dark doorways, and the tinkle of blade against blade from some courtyard near at hand. ”

“ It was the sound of bare feet pattering on the parquet of the hall that restored his senses and as the door of the room flew open he stamped on the still burning electric bulb lying at his feet. The detonation as it flew into fragments came simultaneously with the sharp, stinging report of a small calibre pistol. The room was plunged into utter darkness in which could be heard the sound of two men breathing and the zinging of the mantelpiece brasses from the double explosion. Then silence—no movement—and the mind of Harrison Smith worked like a streak of lightning. ”

“ Wynne hesitated, then said:
“I’m beginning to see the world as it is, and it doesn’t look like that any longer. I see it as a vast machine built up of cranks and gears, and bolts and cogs—some odd, but mostly even. A thing of wheels and reciprocal activity, for ever revolving and for ever returning to the point from which it started. It’s hard to believe in fairies when one thinks like that.”
“Then don’t think like that, or, if you do, think of the energy that moves the machine—that’s where the mystery and the essence lie. The wheels are nothing—it is the power which drives ’em that counts. ”

“ On the morrow he was ready for her in earnest, and realising this, Mornice flung herself into the part with startling energy. He did not allow her to go far before holding up his hand.
“My dear,” he said, “try to remember you are playing the part of a married woman who is at variance with her elderly husband. Do not therefore swing an imaginary sun-bonnet, or smile and blink your eyes at the audience, as though each one was a potential lover. You have three acts in which to gain their affections—not thirty feet of film.” ”

“ Barraclough didn't press for an answer. She was pleased there was a little bit of mystery left over.
Isabel kissed the old lady very tenderly and walked out into the rose garden by herself. There was a glow on her cheeks almost as pink as the roses themselves. It was a sweet relief that Anthony had gone into these dangers more for her sake than any other reason and that their happiness and future rested on his success. In her twenty-one years of life she had come too much into contact with men whose ruling passion was the dollar to the exclusion of all else. ”

“ It came to her that both she and Quiltan were contributing their share toward the making of Wynne Rendall, and both she and Quiltan were being left a little behind in the doing of it.
The curtain rose, and half an hour later Eve knew that Wynne had made good all he boasted he would do—and more. The spirit of the play shone through the lines with a truth of definition that was truly remarkable. The values of the human emotions portrayed were perfect. It was an example of the purest artistry and the surest perception. Not an idea was blurred—not an inflection out of place. ”

“ Barely one man in a hundred made a living—barely one in a thousand saw the yellow specks in his shovel that shone so bright among the brown. Those who had set forth, buoyed up with boundless belief, dragged back to where they had started from broken in purse and spirit, barren of hope and faith.
What then would be the result if the illimitable source of wealth upon which by chance and a whisper Barraclough had stumbled should be revealed to the world? A panic—a mad headlong exodus of men and women too. ”

“ Miss Blanche Cannon, a depictor of adventuresses on the stage and a great Bohemian off, had been present at the contretemps, and was greatly delighted by the young man’s urbanity and calm. It is no infrequent occurrence for opposites to be attracted by each other, and she, with her scatter-brained, love-a-lark disposition, scented in Eliphalet a suitor of possible quality. ”

“ But the spark of love that is, or the spark of a love that was, I keep for ever burning. What sort of life do you imagine mine would be without it?”
“Isn’t there a difference,” said Wynne. “You’re not a striver—you are content⁠—”
“Yes, I’m a loafer—a dilettante—who whistles his song of praise in the country lanes—but⁠—”
“The country lanes are the lover’s lanes; there is no time for love in the great highways. How does the line go? ‘He travels fastest who travels alone.’ ”
Uncle Clem rose and, stretching out a hand, pulled Wynne to his feet. ”

“ Just then one of her many admirers came down the corridor. He was a smooth-haired, self-satisfied looking fellow, who played the Second Player.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “We shall have to go on in a minute.”
Eliphalet moved away and left them together.
“You are a rotter, Morny, to talk to that old blighter and leave me in the lurch.”
“He’s a duck,” said Mornice, “and I love him.”
“I think you love everyone except me.”
“Darling,” she exclaimed with outstretched arms, “I love you to distraction. Without you the world would be a desert track, or tract, whichever it is.” ”

“ Barraclough. A kiss on the forehead, one on each cheek, an examination at arm's length, and finally, after a perfect duck of a shared smile and a murmured "my dear," the gentlest kiss imaginable on the extreme point of the chin. It is at once a tribute and an acceptance—the cashier's neat initial that honours your signature to a cheque drawn on the account of happiness.
Alas, that some of our modern mothers have lost the knack of this pretty exchange. Their greeting is of a harsher tone. They bridge the separating gulf between youth and age with talk of Auction. ”

“ Let people say what they might, he would steer his own course—go his own way for all the world to see.
Would Eve mind a great deal? Why should she? After all, there was but a partnership of brain and work which bound each to each. He wondered even if there would be any infidelity in what he proposed to do.
But what had infidelity or partnership, or obligation or anything else, to do with it? He was an artist, unruled by law or convention. If he desired an excess of the brain he had indulged the desire—why not, then, an excess of the body. ”

“ Barraclough remained silent.
"If you refuse to adopt that view all I can see for it is either to drop the whole thing or to let Van Diest come in and split the profit."
For one instant the placid blue eyes of Mr. Torrington were lit with a shiny white fire.
"Van Diest will not be in this, Cassis," he said.
"But look here, dear old Mr. Torrington," Lord Almont exclaimed.
"Surely you agree that Barra ought to give us his trust."
The old man smiled whimsically.
"Think so?" he said.
"I mean to say, we're not the kind of people to take advantage of a man." ”

“ III It was splendid to reflect that he was a full-blown student of the Quartier, thought Wynne, as with ringing steps he swung along the narrow thoroughfares. He wished Uncle Clem had been there to witness his glory. Never before had he felt so confident of his own personality. Rivulets of water danced and chattered along the gutters reflecting the gladness of his mood—the sun shone gloriously on the tall white houses. Quaint old men with baskets of merchandise piped beseechingly on tiny horns. ”

“ Cranbourne stopped and looked at him.
"Mr. Torrington," he said. "Has it occurred to you that in undertaking this thing we have been guilty of grave wrong-doing? To line our own pockets while we stayed safe at home men have gone out at the risk of their lives. We may talk of adventure—the romance of business—we may call our job by a dozen pretty names, but it analyses out at something fairly damnable when we apply the supreme test."
Mr. Torrington nodded.
"And yet what is the alternative?" he asked. "Life is only a matter of diamond cut diamond."
"It's a scavenger's job," said Cranbourne. ”

“ Large patches of plaster littered the carpet, and the grate was filled with pieces of wood and wreckage. Where once the overmantel had covered its surface, the wallpaper, in contradistinction to the faded colours surrounding, showed bright and new. It seemed as though the spook of the detestable affair still haunted the spot, and would continue to do so down all the ages.
In that moment of extreme desolation Wynne experienced the sensations which possess a pioneer when he doubts if he has the strength to cross the ranges. ”

“ Barraclough came into the room.
"Kicks herself! What a very unbecoming expression, Jane."
"Sorry, madam," said Jane and she and Flora sniggered uncontrollably.
"You girls perplex me greatly," said Mrs. Barraclough. "You do not laugh in the least like ordinary servants."
"How do ordinary servants laugh?" Jane asked.
"Generally speaking, in a high note that echoes distressingly throughout the house, whereas you laugh like young ladies."
"Oh, you old darling," exclaimed Flora with sudden impulsiveness. "I suppose if a decent education and upbringing counts for anything that's just what we are." ”

“ Even the veriest tyro in matters dramatic realized that no mere assembly of actors and actresses, however brilliant, could have achieved so faultless an effect without a master hand to guide them. What Wynne had learnt in the Paris ateliers years before he had set upon the stage. The words of the old Maitre had soaked in: “To we artists the human figure exists in masses of light and shade. It is not made up of legs and hands, and breasts, and ears and teeth. No, by the good God, no!” Wynne had remembered, and here was the distillation of the words. ”

“ The speed of the taxi fell almost to a walking pace. The loafer caught the nearside canopy stay with his right hand and slung his knee on to the projecting end of the rear wing. From there he mounted to the roof of the cab, keeping his legs clear of the side windows. It was quite a dexterous performance, and after all, what was against it? The fare for two is the same as for one and the poor must travel. So hugging his knees and smiling he sat on the battens of the luggage rack and congratulated himself, while within Anthony Barraclough was tapping with his foot and feeling very angry indeed. ”

“ II A registrar is not, as a rule, an enlivening person. He is a dealer in extremities—to him a birth or a death is merely a matter of so many words written upon a page, and a marriage is no greater affair than a union of two people brought together for the purpose of providing him with subjects for his more serious offices.
The particular registrar who was responsible for making Wynne and Eve man and wife was no exception to the rule. He proved to be a man of boundless melancholy, who recited the necessary passages with a gloom of intonation better befitting a burial than a bridal. ”

“ To a running fire of semi-serious sympathy Wynne dressed himself and went out. In a sense he was a little distressed to sacrifice his accustomed cup of early morning chocolate—but this, he argued, was a matter of small concern. A plethora of victuals stagnates the mind, and on this day he had every reason to desire a clear head.
In the Elysée Gardens he found a bench and contracted his brow in meditation. What, he ruminated, were the essentials required to gain a livelihood? Obviously there was a place for every one in this world, or mankind would not survive the ordeal of birth. ”

“ The studio itself was not large, and as high as the arm could reach the walls were plastered, generations deep, with palette scrapings. Above in great profusion were studies from the nude, heads and charcoal drawings in every possible mood of form and light. To Wynne, hitherto accustomed to regard paintings as pictures, these canvases struck a note of brutal coarseness, offending his æsthetic sensibilities. They seemed no more than men and women stripped of their clothing and indecently exposed. ”

“ Surely some one would be glad to lend an ear. There must be some companionable soul in this great city with a thirst for knowledge and enlightenment.
“The clouds that gather round the setting sun.” Wolsey had been wrong to betray so much emotion in delivering that speech. A man like Wolsey would see grim humour in his own downfall. It was contrary to the character, as he saw it, to stress the emotions of such a coming to pass. Wynne knew the speech intimately, and felt a great desire to repeat it aloud in the way it should be repeated. ”

“ Was the world to be denied enlightenment for so poor a reason? Such a pass would be unendurable.
Wynne Rendall was nothing if not courageous. If he felt an impulse of sufficient force he would accept any hazard to give it expression. His bodily frailty and susceptibility to pain were no deterrents. He decided, therefore, while the spirit moved him the supreme moment must not be lost. He would have to rely upon circumstance and the fertility of his imagination in carrying out the campaign, and not allow his thoughts to be damped by knowledge of their unpreparedness. ”

“ He can enthuse, inspire, illumine, refresh old ideals—inspirit new—make dark become light, and light so brilliant that the eyes are dazzled by the whiteness thereof.
The hero occurs by circumstance or deed, and his responsibility is boundless. He must think as a king thinks when the eyes of the nation rest upon him—he must tread all ways with a sure foot and proud bearing—chest out and head high. ”

“ When Wynne departed from that erudite circle he felt almost sublime—like nightingales sang their words of praise. A wild elation prompted him to sing, to dance, to fill his lungs with the thin air of the high peaks to which he had leapt. With youth in one hand and success in the other there were no limits to the achievements which might be his. ”

“ Uncle Clem’s forehead clouded, and his eyes rested upon her. As he looked he noted how sadly she was dressed.
“Little Eve,” he said, “has he ever seen you in a trousseau? I mean—look here, my dear, we men are such poor trivial, sleepy beings. We only wake up when something bangs us in the eye. Have you never thought it might be worth while to bang him in the eye with all that beauty of yours in the setting it deserves? You see we get used to things as they are, and never bother our heads with things as they might be. ”

“ He’s dragooned that body of his to carry the mind to the places where the answers might be found—worked, toiled, sweated, starved for that ideal, asking no help, accepting no charity, driving, driving forward on the fuel of his own brain. Then she came—the all-understanding she—and took half the burden from his shoulders, and built up his neglected body to the likeness of a man. Nature was coming back! She knew his ideals, and wanted him to realize them—gave up herself that he might realize them, for there was a promise in his eyes that she and the ideals might be one. ”

“ I’m in love with the world today.”
At dinner Wynne drank a large quantity of champagne, and insisted that every one else in the immediate neighbourhood should do likewise. As he drank his spirits rose, and so also did his voice. There was a great deal of laughter and much wit—and the wit was accorded more laughter than it deserved. After dinner there were brandies and sodas and more wit—lots of wit—so much wit that every one was witty at once and missed their neighbour’s scintillations. Under the influence of the brandies and sodas wit ripened to adventure. ”

“ An impulse which they shared in common was to make a noise, and in this they achieved a very high standard of perfection. A great variety of sounds were produced, mostly patterned from the fowl-run or the asses’ stall. One serious-minded and bearded boy devoted his ingenuity to reproducing the noise of a motor horn; while another, leaping to the model’s throne, hailed the dawn like any chanticleer. Espying Wynne’s beautifully white canvas perched upon its easel, a red-headed Alsatian flung a tabouret which swept all before it, and sent the new palette planing to the floor. ”

“ Ah, I may not be married—and that is a great blessing for some poor dear unknown—but I’m always in love. Sometimes it’s a girl with whom I have never exchanged a word, sometimes a dead queen or a goddess of ancient times, and sometimes in silly, sordid ways which lonely men will follow. ”

“ It was short-lived, however, for his next glance lighted on the fluffy head of little Miss Esme, her eyes demurely lowered over a dessert plate. Facing her, with his back to Quiltan, sat Wynne. They were some distance away, and while the room was crowded it was impossible to see them from the table he had taken.
Quiltan took a cigarette from his case and passed out to wait for Eve.
As she stepped from the lift he thought her the most wonderful being he had ever seen. Fragile—adorable—desirable—everything to set a man’s heart on fire. ”