Chance

I never saw little Fyne less solemn. He hissed through his teeth in

unexpectedly figurative style that it would take a lot to persuade him to

"push under the head of a poor devil of a girl quite sufficiently

plucky"--and snorted. He was still gazing at the distant quarry, and I

think he was affected by that sight. I assured him that I was far from

advising him to do anything so cruel. I am convinced he had always

doubted the soundness of my principles, because he turned on me swiftly

as though he had been on the watch for a lapse from the straight path.

"Then what do you mean? That I should pretend!"

"No! What nonsense! It would be immoral. I may however tell you that

if I had to make a choice I would rather do something immoral than

something cruel. What I meant was that, not believing in the efficacy of

the interference, the whole question is reduced to your consenting to do

what your wife wishes you to do. That would be acting like a gentleman,

surely. And acting unselfishly too, because I can very well understand

how distasteful it may be to you. Generally speaking, an unselfish

action is a moral action. I'll tell you what. I'll go with you."

He turned round and stared at me with surprise and suspicion. "You would

go with me?" he repeated.

"You don't understand," I said, amused at the incredulous disgust of his

tone. "I must run up to town, to-morrow morning. Let us go together.

You have a set of travelling chessmen."

His physiognomy, contracted by a variety of emotions, relaxed to a

certain extent at the idea of a game. I told him that as I had business

at the Docks he should have my company to the very ship.

"We shall beguile the way to the wilds of the East by improving

conversation," I encouraged him.

"My brother-in-law is staying at an hotel--the Eastern Hotel," he said,

becoming sombre again. "I haven't the slightest idea where it is."

"I know the place. I shall leave you at the door with the comfortable

conviction that you are doing what's right since it pleases a lady and

cannot do any harm to anybody whatever."

"You think so? No harm to anybody?" he repeated doubtfully.

"I assure you it's not the slightest use," I said with all possible

emphasis which seemed only to increase the solemn discontent of his

expression.

"But in order that my going should be a perfectly candid proceeding I

must first convince my wife that it isn't the slightest use," he objected

portentously.