Fallaray

“ A tall, primly dressed elderly man, who had apparently been waiting, sprang forward, a glint of great anger in his eyes and two spots of color on his pale cheeks. He said, “Mr. Fallaray, a word with you, Sir.”
And Fallaray turned with his usual courtesy and consideration. “What can I do?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you what you can do. You can stop showing sympathy for the Irish murderers and assassins. You can stop pussyfooting. You can withdraw all your remarks about reprisals. That’s what you can do. ”

“ He held in utter contempt the old adage that having made your bed it is necessary to lie upon it. What bosh that was. Wasn’t the town full of beds of every size and price? Sometimes, when he thought of the way in which Fallaray permitted himself to be run and worked and milked and used by his so-called wife and her family, by the Government, by all sorts of societies and even by himself, a huge impatience swept over him and he wanted to cry out, “Fallaray, for God’s sake, kick somebody. ”

“ Ecstasy approaching madness must have made her suppose that all she had to do was to sail in to this hotel in Lady Feo’s frock and all the rest would follow,—that looking, as well as feeling “a lady” now and loving like a woman, something would go out from her soul—a little call—and Fallaray would rise and come to her. Mr. Fallaray. The Savoy. They were far, far out of her reach. Her heart was in her borrowed shoes. And then she became aware of Chalfont, met his eyes and saw in them sympathy and concern and understanding. ”

“ Cursed bad luck that he had been caught at forty.—But, struck with an idea in which he could see immediate possibilities, he stopped on his way to the door and went back to Fallaray. To work it out in his usual energetic way he must use strategy and appear to accept his friend’s decision as irreparable. “All right,” he said. “You know best. I’ll argue no more. But as there’s no need now for me to dash back to town, mayn’t I linger with you in Arcadia for a couple of hours?”
Fallaray was delighted. Lola was to dine at Lady Cheyne’s, and he would be alone. ”

“ Fallaray for a card.”
“My dear Lola—I beg your pardon, I mean, my dear Madame de Brézé—if you remember, Fallaray didn’t know me from Adam that night at the Savoy. I really don’t think I can push myself in like that, if you’ll forgive me. Let’s take a chance at the Gaiety. No one’s going to the theater just now. There’s sure to be plenty of room.”
By this time they were in the street, with a huge commissionaire waiting for a glance from Chalfont to bring up a taxi with his silver whistle. ”

“ And yet for all that, she was Fallaray’s wife.—It was more than conceivable, as Lola could guess, that if the whole story were confided in detail, with the de Brézé background all brought out, Lady Feo would first of all laugh and then probably help her little lady’s maid for the fun of the thing, and to be able, impishly, one night when she met Fallaray coming back from the House worn and round-shouldered, to stand in front of him, jumping to conclusions, and say, “Ha, ha! Sooner or later you all come off your pedestal, don’t you? ”

“ I didn’t want to have any of the maids to help me. They resent being asked to do anything that is outside their regular duty.”
And so Lola proceeded, hating to get her hands dirty and not very keen on indulging in athletics, but with a determination made doubly firm by the fleeting sight of Fallaray.
Miss Breezy was in an equable mood that afternoon,—less pompous than usual, less consumed with the importance of being the controlling brain in the management of the Fallaray “establishment,” as she called it in the stilted language of the auctioneer. ”

“ We must have this man, we must.”
He turned away, deeply disappointed at the queer tangent at which his chief had gone off, bitterly annoyed to find that here was a fight within a fight at a time when unity was vital. He was himself a perfectly normal creature who regarded the rustle of silk as one of the necessities, like golf and tobacco, but to sacrifice a career or let down a cause for the sake of a woman was to him an act of unimaginable weakness and folly. If only Fallaray had been younger or older, or, better still, had been contentedly married to Feo! ”

“ It was to Chilton Park that Fallaray loved to go alone for the week-end and wander about, gaining refreshment for his tired brain; and always it had seemed to Lola, when she had dared to look into the future, that this place, standing high up on the ridge of hills above the vale of Aylesbury, backed by a great beech forest and landmarked by the white cross that had been cut by the Romans, was the first milestone on her road to love and to the fulfillment of the dream which had held her all those years. ”

“ Lola could see that she had given her new friend a task from which he would do almost anything to escape. After all, there was not much in common between Fallaray, whose nose was at the grindstone, and Peter Chalfont, who had nothing to do but kill time. But she must meet Fallaray that night. It was written. Every man was a stepping-stone to this one man who needed her so, but did not know her yet. Therefore, with a touch of ruthlessness that came to her directly from her famous ancestress, she thanked him and added, “It can be managed near the place where you put your hat and coat.” ”

“ Fallaray’s wife who fished to know her secret. Was it one of the ordinary coincidences which had brought, them together—meaningless and accidental—or one of those studied ironies which fate, in its mischievous mood, indulges in so frequently?
“It wouldn’t have been any good to deny it. It’s all over you like a label. It’s an infernal nuisance, Lola, but I’ll try and get on without you. If you’re not going to get married, watch your step, as the Americans say. I don’t give you this tip on moral grounds but from the worldly point of view. ”

“ Whereupon, she had immediately advertised the engagement broadcast, brought her relations down upon Fallaray in a swarm, sent paragraphs to the papers and made it literally impossible for the unfortunate man to do anything but go through with the damned thing like a gentleman,—dazed by the turn of events and totally unacquainted with the galloping creature who had seemed to him to resemble a thoroughbred but untrained yearling, kicking its heels about in a paddock. ”

“ With the capitalists pushing him one way and the labor leaders shouldering him the other, he’s losing his feet. The by-elections show the way the wind’s blowing in the country and they’ve made a draught in Downing Street. Trust a Celt as a political barometer.”
“There’s been no wind here, George,” said Fallaray, putting his hands behind his head. “Golden days, my dear fellow, golden days, with the gentlest of breezes.”
But Lytham ignored the interruption. In five minutes, if he knew his man, he would have Fallaray sitting up straight. ”

“ He spoke no English, but she could guess his meaning because in his eyes there was the look with which she was familiar in the eyes of Treadwell, Simpkins and Chalfont. And she said to herself, “As there is something in me that stirs the hearts of men, give me the chance, O God, to let it be felt by the only man I shall ever love and who is all alone on earth!” And while the room rang with music, she went forward in spirit to the gate in the wall of Chilton Park, which she had seen from her window, opened it and went inside to look for Fallaray. ”

“ The thing had been a tragedy, so far as Fallaray was concerned, an uncanny and terrible event in his life, almost in the nature of an incurable illness. The so-called honeymoon to which he never looked back, had been a nightmare filled with scoffing laughter, brilliant and amazing remarks, out of which he had emerged in a state of mental chaos to plunge into work as an antidote. They had always lived under the same roof because it was necessary for a man who goes into politics to truckle to that curious form of hypocrisy which will never be eradicated from the British system. ”

“ Her métier was to bring into his loveless life the rustle of silk,—love, tenderness, flattery, refreshment, softness, beauty, laughter, adoration, which would send him out of her secret nest strengthened, humanized, eager, optimistic. She must fail lamentably if the effect of her absorbed him to the elimination of everything that made him necessary to the man who had come from London and to all that he represented. George Lytham, of Reconstruction, the organizer of the Anti-waste Party,—she had heard him discussed by Lady Feo. Without Fallaray he might be left leaderless,—because of her. ”

“ He walked out into Piccadilly with his host and together these two tall men, who were giving themselves up to an apparently abortive attempt to put together again the peace of the world—deliberately and ruthlessly smashed by the country which now whined and squealed and cried out excuses while it hid money and machine guns in secret places—made for Westminster arm in arm.
“Where’s your car?” asked young Lochinvar.
“I gave it up,” said Fallaray. “The sight of our unemployed going about in processions made the keeping of a car grotesque. I’ve tried to cut down in every other way too. ”

“ But what if you are? We’re all too precious careful to guard the reputations of our politicians, to help them along in their petty careers.”
“But he isn’t a politician, and he isn’t working for a career.” She drew away sharply. No one must have a word against Fallaray.
“Well, what is it then? I want you to be happy. I want this to be a Great Romance. And, good Heavens, my darling, it’s only three days old.”
Lola spoke through tears. Yes, it was only three days old. “He may love me too much,” she said. “I may become more important than his work.” ”

“ It seemed to him that she had grown softer and sweeter and he was surprised and full of wonder, until he remembered that she had come to see Kirosch, whom she called her protégé—and then he understood.
Mrs. Malwood came out and luckily broke things up. “He’s singing,” she said. “Aren’t you coming in? Good heavens, Feo, what the deuce are you playing at? You’ve dragged me up and ruined everything, only to miss the very thing you seemed so keen to hear. What is the idea?” She recognized Fallaray and said, “Oh, it’s you.” ”

“ She said she didn’t give a damn about the Irish question—and I wish she didn’t speak like that—but that it would be great fun to have a general election to brighten things up and give her a chance to win some money. I don’t know how Lady Feo knew that her husband had decided to take this step, because they never meet and I don’t believe he ever tells her anything that he has on his mind. I shouldn’t be surprised if she got it from Mr. Fallaray’s secretary. I’ve seen them whispering in corners lately and once she starts her tricks on any man, good-by loyalty. ”

“ You to bring such a disgrace into the parish. A thing that was never heard of before!
Bartley: Will you shut your mouth and hear me speaking?
Mrs. Fallon: And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman, but for a little fistful of a [Pg 26] woman like Kitty Keary, that’s not four feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new ones! May God reward you, Bartley Fallon, for the black treachery in your heart and the wickedness in your mind, and the red blood of poor Jack Smith that is wet upon your hand! ”

“ Well, enjoying at least my membership of the Exiles’ Club. Now I do not want to break a tacit understanding by referring to the past history of any of us. Some may have made mistakes, or yielded to some unfortunate impulse; some—my own is a case in point—may be the victims of conspiracy on the one part and misunderstanding on another. But in any case, if ever we had to leave Faloo, where could we go? ”

“ Hateful and inevitable details occurred to Westray’s imagination: the crowded, curious court as he saw it in his dream, with Lord Blandamer in the dock, and this last thought sickened him. His own place would be in the witness-box. Incidents that he wished to forget would be recalled, discussed, dwelt on; he would have to search his memory for them, narrate them, swear to them. But this was not all. He would have to give an account of this very afternoon’s work. It could not be hushed up. Every servant in the house would know how he had come to Fording with a picture. ”

“ Westray was nettled.
"Oh, I think it's mean to sneer at everything the man does. We abused him yesterday as a niggard; let us have the grace to-day to say we were mistaken." He was afflicted with the over-scrupulosity of a refined, but strictly limited mind, and his conscience smote him. "I, at any rate, was quite mistaken," he went on; "I quite misinterpreted his hesitation when I mentioned the cost of the transept repairs." ”

“ He could not leave him in suspense; to do so would be cowardice and cruelty. He must make his intention clear, but how? in what form of words? There was no time to think; already they were repassing that canvas which stood with its face to the wall.
The suspense, the impenetrable silence, was telling upon Westray; he tried again to rearrange his thoughts, but they were centred only on Lord Blandamer. How calm he seemed, with his hands folded behind him, and never a finger twitching! What did he mean to do—to fly, or kill himself, or stand his ground and take his trial on a last chance? ”

“ The poor man, to be deserted by his own wife, and the breath hardly gone out yet from his body that is lying bloody in the field!
(Enter Mrs. Fallon.)
[Pg 15] Mrs. Fallon: What is it the whole of the town is talking about? And what is it you yourselves are talking about? Is it about my man Bartley Fallon you are talking? Is it lies about him you are telling, saying that he went killing Jack Smith? My grief that ever he came into this place at all!
James Ryan: Be easy now, Mrs. Fallon. Sure there is no one at all in the whole fair but is sorry for you! ”