Arms and the Woman

"Perhaps," I mused absently.

"Perhaps what?" asked Pembroke.

"What?" I had forgotten him. "Oh, it was merely a slip of the

tongue." I poked the matting with my cane. "It is high noon; we had

best hunt up a lunch. I have an engagement with the American military

attache at two, so you will have to take care of yourself till dinner."

Let me tell you what happened in the military club that night. I was

waiting for Col. J---- of the Queen's Light, who was to give me the

plan of the fall maneuvers in Africa. Pembroke was in the billiard

room showing what he knew about caroms and brandy smashes to a trio of

tanned Indian campaigners. I was in the reading room perusing the

evening papers. All at once I became aware of a man standing before

me. He remained in that position so long that I glanced over the top

of my paper.

It was Prince Ernst of Wortumborg. He bowed.

"May I claim your attention for a moment?" he asked.

Had I been in any other place but the club I should have ignored him.

I possessed the liveliest hatred for the man.

"If you will be brief."

"As brief as possible," dropping into the nearest chair. "It has

become necessary to ask you a few questions. The matter concerns me."

"Whatever concerns you is nothing to me," I replied coldly.

He smiled. "Are you quite sure?"

I had turned the sword on myself, so it seemed. But I said: "I

answered some of your questions once; I believe I was explicit."

"As to that I can say you were; startlingly explicit. It is a delicate

matter to profess one's regard for a woman before total strangers. It

is not impossible that she would have done the same thing in your

place. Her regard for you--"

I interrupted him with a menacing gesture. "I am extremely irritable,"

I said. "I should regret to lose control of myself in a place like

this."

"To be sure!" he said. "This is England, where they knock one another

down."

"We do not murder on this side of the channel," I retorted.

"That is unkind. Your friend was a very good shot," with a significant

glance at his useless arm. "But for my arm, and his nerves, which were

not of the best order, I had not lived to speak to you to-night."