Читать книгу Below the Salt - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 23

Back in London, they did not get rid of Robert Underpeck and his insistent questioning until it was time to dress for dinner. Richard O’Rawn was off then to the American Embassy. He did not return to their suite at the Watling until nearly midnight, so it may be assumed that he had found the company stimulating. John had not gone to bed but was sound asleep on a couch in the sitting room. He got to his feet slowly and stretched his arms.

“You look tired, Uncle Richard,” he said. He had fallen into the habit of addressing the senator in this way since the trip began. “I was going to ask you some questions but I can see we’ll have to postpone our talk until tomorrow.”

The senator fumbled with his white tie and then unbuttoned his collar. Seating himself in a chair and kicking off his patent leather shoes, he sighed with relief.

“I’m wide awake,” he said. “We might as well have it out now. I know what you are going to ask, of course. It’s about the coins. John, I believe I heard them counted—seven centuries ago.”

John had been expecting some such answer but now that he had it he found himself filled with doubts and fears. Was his benefactor beginning to lose his mind? Had he fallen into the grip of a strange obsession?

“My boy, it seems that I may have been here in England in King John’s day. Either that, or I saw it all in dreams.”

“You asked me once if I believed an angel could make a mistake,” prompted John.

The old man smiled and nodded his head. “This is what I was driving at. There’s something hidden away at the back of our minds, and I expect it’s not intended for us to know what it is. But the shutter which closes off that part of the brain sometimes begins to rattle and sap and yaw, which gives the possessor of the head an occasional glimpse of what’s behind it, a brief flash of memory. Perhaps the angel, who is supposed to see that all these shutters are tight and shipshape, has been careless. Perhaps this new and raw assistant was so careless once—in my case—that he let the shutter swing wide open—and it never was closed. Does that sound very farfetched to you?”

“I’m afraid it does, sir.” Recovering from his first shock, John asked a question. “When did this return of memory occur, sir?”

“This will make it still harder for you to believe. Fifty years ago!”

“But—but why have you waited so long to tell about it?”

The senator, knowing that they were now embarked on what would be a long talk, opened a humidor and carefully selected a cigar. He lighted it and gave a satisfied pull.

“John,” he said slowly, “you must consider the position I was in. I had a promising political career ahead of me. What would have happened if I had told my story then? How many votes would I have received? Not one, my boy. No one would cast a vote to send a crackpot to Congress, a man who believed he had seen the signing of Magna Charta. You see that, don’t you?”

John managed a grin. “Yes, I can understand that.”

“What’s more, I would have been laughed out of business. No one would have trusted me. There might even have been talk of clapping me into an insane asylum. So—I have kept a still tongue in my head.”

“But things haven’t changed. Of course, you’re getting out of politics but you’ll be laughed at just the same. People will say you are out of your mind.”

“I’ve been preparing for that. What happened today, for instance. The Earl of Baudene will give the story to the newspapers because he wants to get two-shilling entry fees to the priory. And he’ll have plenty of witnesses. I took Patrick O’Rawn to the site of the first castle and then uncovered the stones of the foundation. There were four witnesses to that. I had never been in Ireland and yet I knew about the Marshal’s Seat.” He looked at his youthful companion with a hint of a smile on his rubicund face. “What about you, my boy? Do you believe me?”

John hesitated. “I—I can’t think of any other possible explanation. I confess that what happened today—well, it has shaken me up.”

“I have a reason for telling the story now. You know what people are saying in all parts of the world, that the present system of government deserves to die. Because some people have easier lives than others and a larger share of worldly goods, they want everything changed. To achieve complete equality—or what they hope will prove equality—they are willing to forgo the personal freedom we have won so slowly and painfully over the ages, the right to think and say and do what we please. They are willing to bring back the tyranny of absolute government. Ah, if they only knew! If they could look back into the past and see for themselves what mankind has emerged from!” The senator’s eyes had lighted up with determination and zeal. “John! I can pull the curtain aside. I must do it!”

“But can you make people believe? Won’t they say it’s just a story, a piece of fiction?”

“Perhaps. But we must try. We must make the effort, you and I. I have been taking you over the ground and showing you many places which come into the story. Now I will turn my memory inside out for your benefit. I will describe everything in minute detail. And I want you to get it all down on paper.”

After a long silence the old man resumed. “Well, my boy, I’ve told you,” he said in a more normal tone. “I can see you would like to believe me but that incredulity still has the upper hand. You think that all of this may have been a dream. Perhaps that is the explanation. But did ever man have such a dream before? Can a whole life and a strange world be created for the sole benefit of one mortal?

“There will be other proofs beside the coins. In time, I think, you will come around,” he went on. “But there can be no delay. I’m an old man and memories fade quickly when your feet begin to approach the last step. The dream, if it is a dream, may fade suddenly. The shutter in my mind, which opened and let me remember the past, might close again. We must seize the chance before that can happen. Tomorrow, then, we get to work. I shall start at the beginning and tell you everything. Every detail, no matter how small and unimportant it may seem. And you will take down what I say and then put it into such form that it will not be hard for people to read. Will you humor an old man to that extent?”

“Of course, sir. I am eager to start.”