Читать книгу The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories - Sapper - Страница 64

"Go away," said Toby, looking up as the door opened and Hugh strolled in. "Your presence is unnecessary and uncalled for, and we're not pleased. Are we, Miss Benton?"

"Can you bear him, Phyllis?" remarked Hugh, with a grin. "I mean lying about the house all day?"

"What's the notion, old son?" Toby Sinclair stood up, looking slightly puzzled.

"I want you to stop here, Toby," said Hugh, "and not let Miss Benton out of your sight. Also keep your eye skinned on The Elms, and let me know by 'phone to Half Moon Street anything that happens. Do you get me?"

"I get you," answered the other, "but I say, Hugh, can't I do something a bit more active? I mean, of course, there's nothing I'd like better than to..." He broke off in mild confusion as Phyllis Benton laughed merrily.

"Do something more active!" echoed Hugh. "You bet your life, old boy. A rapid one-step out of the room. You're far too young for what's coming now."

With a resigned sigh Toby rose and walked to the door.

"I shall have to listen at the keyhole," he announced, "and thereby get earache. You people have no consideration whatever."

"I've got five minutes, little girl," whispered Hugh, taking her into his arms as the door closed.

"Five minutes of Heaven.... By Jove! But you look great—simply great."

The girl smiled up at him.

"It strikes me, Master Hugh, that you have failed to remove your beard this morning."

Hugh grinned.

"Quite right, kid. They omitted to bring me my shaving water on the roof."

After a considerable interval, in which trifles such as beards mattered not, she smoothed her hair and sat down on the arm of a chair.

"Tell me what's happened, boy," she said eagerly.

"Quite a crowded night." With a reminiscent smile he lit a cigarette. And then quite briefly he told her of the events of the past twelve hours, being, as is the manner of a man, more interested in watching the sweet colour which stained her cheeks from time to time, and noticing her quickened breathing when he told her of his fight with the gorilla, and his ascent of the murderous staircase. To him it was all over now and finished, but to the girl who sat listening to the short, half-clipped sentences, each one spoken with a laugh and a jest, there came suddenly the full realisation of what this man was doing for her. It was she who had been the cause of his running all these risks; it was her letter that he had answered. Now she felt that if one hair of his head was touched, she would never forgive herself.

And so when he had finished, and pitched the stump of his cigarette into the grate, falteringly she tried to dissuade him. With her hands on his coat, and her big eyes misty with her fears for him, she begged him to give it all up. And even as she spoke, she gloried in the fact that she knew it was quite useless. Which made her plead all the harder, as is the way of a woman with her man.

And then, after a while, her voice died away, and she fell silent. He was smiling, and so, perforce, she had to smile too. Only their eyes spoke those things which no human being may put into words. And so, for a time, they stood....

Then, quite suddenly, he bent and kissed her.

"I must go, little girl," he whispered. "I've got to be in Paris to-night. Take care of yourself."

The next moment he was gone.

"For God's sake take care of her, Toby!" he remarked to that worthy, whom he found sitting disconsolately by the front door. "Those blighters are the limit."

"That's all right, old man," said Sinclair gruffly. "Good huntin'!"

He watched the tall figure stride rapidly to the waiting car, the occupants of which were simulating sleep as a mild protest at the delay; then, with a smile, he rose and joined the girl.

"Some lad," he remarked. "And if you don't mind my saying so, Miss Benton, I wouldn't change him if I was you. Unless, of course," he added, as an afterthought, "you'd prefer me!"