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Dangerous Days

Page 127

"Of course he's going," she said. "He has been making the most

outrageous excuses, just to hear mother and me reply to them. And all

the time nothing would hold him back."

"My dear," said the rector solemnly. "T shall have to tell you

something. I shall have to lay bare the secrets of my heart. How are

you, Nolan? Delight, they will not take me. I have three back teeth on

a plate. I have never told you this before. I did not wish to ruin your

belief that I am perfect. But--"

In the laugh that greeted this Graham returned. He was, Clayton saw,

vaguely puzzled by the rector and rather incredulous as to Delight's

attitude.

"Do you really want him to go?" he asked her.

"Of course. Aren't you going? Isn't everybody who is worth anything

going? I'd go myself if I could. You don't know how lucky you are."

"But is your Mother willing?"

"Why, what sort of a mother do you think I have?"

Clayton overheard that, and he saw Graham wince. His own hands clenched.

What a power in the world a brave woman was! And what evil could be

wrought by a woman without moral courage, a selfish woman. He brought

himself up short at that.

Others came in. Hutchinson, from the mill. Terry Mackenzie, Rodney Page,

in evening clothes and on his way from the opera to something or other.

In a corner Graham and Delight talked. The rector, in a high state of

exaltation, was inclined to be oratorical and a trifle noisy. He dilated

on the vast army that would rise overnight, at the call. He considered

the raising of a company from his own church, and nominated Clayton as

its captain. Nolan grinned sardonically.

"Precisely," he said dryly. "Clayton, because he looks like a Greek god,

is ideally fitted to lead a lot of men who never saw a bayonet outside

of a museum. Against trained fighting men. There's a difference you

know, dominie, between a clay pigeon and a German with a bomb in one

hand and a saw-toothed bayonet in the other."

"We did that in the Civil War."

"We did. And it took four years to fight a six-months war."

"We must have an army. I daresay you'll grant that."

"Well, you can bet on one thing; we're not going to have every ward boss

who wants to make a record raising a regiment out of his henchmen and

leading them to death."

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