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.”The King made a note on his paper:“Romantic Conduct of Mr.Wilson.”“Yes,” said Buck, “it makes one a bit less proud of one’s ‘h’s.’ ”The King suddenly folded or crumpled up the paper, and put it in his pocket.“I have an idea,” he said.“I will be an eyewitness.I will write you such letters from the Front as will be more gorgeous than the real thing.Give me my coat, Paladium.I entered this room a mere King of England.I leave it, Special War Correspondent of the Court Journal.It is useless to stop me, Pally; it is vain to cling to my knees, Buck; it is hopeless, Barker, to weep upon my neck.‘When duty calls’.the remainder of the sentiment escapes me.You will receive my first article this evening by the eight o’clock post.”And, running out of the office, he jumped upon a blue Bayswater omnibus that went swinging by.“Well,” said Barker, gloomily, “well.”“Barker,” said Buck, “business may be lower than politics, but war is, as I discovered last night, a long sight more like business.You politicians are such ingrained demagogues that even when you have a despotism you think of nothing but public opinion.So you learn to tack and run, and are afraid of the first breeze.Now we stick to a thing and get it.And our mistakes help us.Look here! at this moment we’ve beaten Wayne.”“Beaten Wayne,” repeated Barker.“Why the dickens not?” cried the other, flinging out his hands.“Look here.I said last night that we had them by holding the nine entrances.Well, I was wrong.We should have had them but for a singular event.the lamps went out.But for that it was certain.Has it occurred to you, my brilliant Barker, that another singular event has happened since that singular event of the lamps going out?”“What event?” asked Barker.“By an astounding coincidence, the sun has risen,” cried out Buck, with a savage air of patience.“Why the hell aren’t we holding all those approaches now, and passing in on them again? It should have been done at sunrise.The confounded doctor wouldn’t let me go out.You were in command.”Barker smiled grimly.“It is a gratification to me, my dear Buck, to be able to say that we anticipated your suggestions precisely.We went as early as possible to reconnoitre the nine entrances.Unfortunately, while we were fighting each other in the dark, like a lot of drunken navvies, Mr.Wayne’s friend’s were working very hard indeed.Three hundred yards from.Pump Street, at every one of those entrances, there is a barricade nearly as high as the houses.They were finishing the last, in Pembridge Road, when we arrived.Our mistakes,” he cried bitterly, and flung his cigarette on the ground.“It is not we who learn from them.”There was a silence for a few moments, and Barker lay back wearily in a chair.The office clock ticked exactly in the stillness.At length Barker said suddenly:“Buck, does it ever cross your mind what this is all about? The Hammersmith to Maida Vale thoroughfare was an uncommonly good speculation.You and I hoped a great deal from it.But is it worth it? It will cost us thousands to crush this ridiculous riot.Suppose we let it alone?”“And be thrashed in public by a red-haired madman whom any two doctors would lock up?” cried out Buck, starting to his feet.“What do you propose to do, Mr.Barker? To apologize to the admirable Mr.Wayne? To kneel to the Charter of the Cities? To clasp to your bosom the flag of the Red Lion? To kiss in succession every sacred lamp-post that saved Notting Hill? No, by God! My men fought jolly well.they were beaten by a trick.And they’ll fight again.”“Buck,” said Barker, “I always admired you.And you were quite right in what you said the other day.”“In what?”“In saying,” said Barker, rising quietly, “that we had all got into Adam Wayne’s atmosphere and out of our own.My friend, the whole territorial kingdom of Adam Wayne extends to about nine streets, with barricades at the end of them.But the spiritual kingdom of Adam Wayne extends, God knows where.it extends to this office at any rate.The red-haired madman whom any two doctors would lock up is filling this room with his roaring, unreasonable soul.And it was the red-haired madman who said the last word you spoke.”Buck walked to the window without replying.“You understand, of course,” he said at last, “I do not dream of giving in.”* * *The King, meanwhile, was rattling along on the top of his blue omnibus.The traffic of London as a whole had not, of course, been greatly disturbed by these events, for the affair was treated as a Notting Hill riot, and that area was marked off as if it had been in the hands of a gang of recognized rioters.The blue omnibuses simply went round as they would have done if a road were being mended, and the omnibup on which the correspondent of the Court Journal was sitting swept round the corner of Queen’s Road, Bayswater.The King was alone on the top of the vehicle, and was enjoying the speed at which it was going.“Forward, my beauty, my Arab,” he said, patting the omnibus encouragingly, “fleetest of all thy bounding tribe.Are thy relations with thy driver, I wonder, those of the Bedouin and his steed? Does he sleep side by side with thee.”His meditations were broken by a sudden and jarring stopage.Looking over the edge, he saw that the heads of the horses were being held by men in the uniform of Wayne’s army, and heard the voice of an officer calling out orders.King Auberon descended from the omnibus with dignity.The guard or picket of red halberdiers who had stopped the vehicle did not number more than twenty, and they were under the command of a short, dark, clever-looking young man, conspicuous among the rest as being clad in an ordinary frock-coat, but girt round the waist with a red sash and a long seventeenth-century sword.A shiny silk hat and spectacles completed the outfit in a pleasing manner.“To whom have I the honour of speaking?” said the King, endeavouring to look like Charles I, in spite of personal difficulties.The dark man in spectacles lifted his hat with equal gravity.“My name is Bowles,” he said.“I am a chemist.I am also a captain of O company of the army of Notting Hill.I am distressed at having to incommode you by stopping the omnibus, but this area is covered by our proclamation, and we intercept all traffic.May I ask to whom I have the honour.Why, good gracious, I beg your Majesty’s pardon.I am quite overwhelmed at finding myself concerned with the King.”Auberon put up his hands with indescribable grandeur.“Not with the King,” he said; “with the special war correspondent of the Court Journal.”“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” began Mr.Bowles, doubtfully.“Do you call me Majesty? I repeat,” said Auberon firmly, “I am a representative of the press.I have chosen, with a deep sense of responsibility, the name of Pinker.I should desire a veil to be drawn over the past.”“Very well, sir,” said Mr.Bowles, with an air of submission, “in our eyes the sanctity of the press is at least as great as that of the throne.We desire nothing better than that our wrongs and our glories should be widely known.May I ask, Mr [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.”The King made a note on his paper:“Romantic Conduct of Mr.Wilson.”“Yes,” said Buck, “it makes one a bit less proud of one’s ‘h’s.’ ”The King suddenly folded or crumpled up the paper, and put it in his pocket.“I have an idea,” he said.“I will be an eyewitness.I will write you such letters from the Front as will be more gorgeous than the real thing.Give me my coat, Paladium.I entered this room a mere King of England.I leave it, Special War Correspondent of the Court Journal.It is useless to stop me, Pally; it is vain to cling to my knees, Buck; it is hopeless, Barker, to weep upon my neck.‘When duty calls’.the remainder of the sentiment escapes me.You will receive my first article this evening by the eight o’clock post.”And, running out of the office, he jumped upon a blue Bayswater omnibus that went swinging by.“Well,” said Barker, gloomily, “well.”“Barker,” said Buck, “business may be lower than politics, but war is, as I discovered last night, a long sight more like business.You politicians are such ingrained demagogues that even when you have a despotism you think of nothing but public opinion.So you learn to tack and run, and are afraid of the first breeze.Now we stick to a thing and get it.And our mistakes help us.Look here! at this moment we’ve beaten Wayne.”“Beaten Wayne,” repeated Barker.“Why the dickens not?” cried the other, flinging out his hands.“Look here.I said last night that we had them by holding the nine entrances.Well, I was wrong.We should have had them but for a singular event.the lamps went out.But for that it was certain.Has it occurred to you, my brilliant Barker, that another singular event has happened since that singular event of the lamps going out?”“What event?” asked Barker.“By an astounding coincidence, the sun has risen,” cried out Buck, with a savage air of patience.“Why the hell aren’t we holding all those approaches now, and passing in on them again? It should have been done at sunrise.The confounded doctor wouldn’t let me go out.You were in command.”Barker smiled grimly.“It is a gratification to me, my dear Buck, to be able to say that we anticipated your suggestions precisely.We went as early as possible to reconnoitre the nine entrances.Unfortunately, while we were fighting each other in the dark, like a lot of drunken navvies, Mr.Wayne’s friend’s were working very hard indeed.Three hundred yards from.Pump Street, at every one of those entrances, there is a barricade nearly as high as the houses.They were finishing the last, in Pembridge Road, when we arrived.Our mistakes,” he cried bitterly, and flung his cigarette on the ground.“It is not we who learn from them.”There was a silence for a few moments, and Barker lay back wearily in a chair.The office clock ticked exactly in the stillness.At length Barker said suddenly:“Buck, does it ever cross your mind what this is all about? The Hammersmith to Maida Vale thoroughfare was an uncommonly good speculation.You and I hoped a great deal from it.But is it worth it? It will cost us thousands to crush this ridiculous riot.Suppose we let it alone?”“And be thrashed in public by a red-haired madman whom any two doctors would lock up?” cried out Buck, starting to his feet.“What do you propose to do, Mr.Barker? To apologize to the admirable Mr.Wayne? To kneel to the Charter of the Cities? To clasp to your bosom the flag of the Red Lion? To kiss in succession every sacred lamp-post that saved Notting Hill? No, by God! My men fought jolly well.they were beaten by a trick.And they’ll fight again.”“Buck,” said Barker, “I always admired you.And you were quite right in what you said the other day.”“In what?”“In saying,” said Barker, rising quietly, “that we had all got into Adam Wayne’s atmosphere and out of our own.My friend, the whole territorial kingdom of Adam Wayne extends to about nine streets, with barricades at the end of them.But the spiritual kingdom of Adam Wayne extends, God knows where.it extends to this office at any rate.The red-haired madman whom any two doctors would lock up is filling this room with his roaring, unreasonable soul.And it was the red-haired madman who said the last word you spoke.”Buck walked to the window without replying.“You understand, of course,” he said at last, “I do not dream of giving in.”* * *The King, meanwhile, was rattling along on the top of his blue omnibus.The traffic of London as a whole had not, of course, been greatly disturbed by these events, for the affair was treated as a Notting Hill riot, and that area was marked off as if it had been in the hands of a gang of recognized rioters.The blue omnibuses simply went round as they would have done if a road were being mended, and the omnibup on which the correspondent of the Court Journal was sitting swept round the corner of Queen’s Road, Bayswater.The King was alone on the top of the vehicle, and was enjoying the speed at which it was going.“Forward, my beauty, my Arab,” he said, patting the omnibus encouragingly, “fleetest of all thy bounding tribe.Are thy relations with thy driver, I wonder, those of the Bedouin and his steed? Does he sleep side by side with thee.”His meditations were broken by a sudden and jarring stopage.Looking over the edge, he saw that the heads of the horses were being held by men in the uniform of Wayne’s army, and heard the voice of an officer calling out orders.King Auberon descended from the omnibus with dignity.The guard or picket of red halberdiers who had stopped the vehicle did not number more than twenty, and they were under the command of a short, dark, clever-looking young man, conspicuous among the rest as being clad in an ordinary frock-coat, but girt round the waist with a red sash and a long seventeenth-century sword.A shiny silk hat and spectacles completed the outfit in a pleasing manner.“To whom have I the honour of speaking?” said the King, endeavouring to look like Charles I, in spite of personal difficulties.The dark man in spectacles lifted his hat with equal gravity.“My name is Bowles,” he said.“I am a chemist.I am also a captain of O company of the army of Notting Hill.I am distressed at having to incommode you by stopping the omnibus, but this area is covered by our proclamation, and we intercept all traffic.May I ask to whom I have the honour.Why, good gracious, I beg your Majesty’s pardon.I am quite overwhelmed at finding myself concerned with the King.”Auberon put up his hands with indescribable grandeur.“Not with the King,” he said; “with the special war correspondent of the Court Journal.”“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” began Mr.Bowles, doubtfully.“Do you call me Majesty? I repeat,” said Auberon firmly, “I am a representative of the press.I have chosen, with a deep sense of responsibility, the name of Pinker.I should desire a veil to be drawn over the past.”“Very well, sir,” said Mr.Bowles, with an air of submission, “in our eyes the sanctity of the press is at least as great as that of the throne.We desire nothing better than that our wrongs and our glories should be widely known.May I ask, Mr [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]