Chapter VII: Sir Harry called a Council of War

His Man of Affairs--Smith by name--attended, as also did the Editor of the _Lewisham and Lee Mail_.

Mr. R. B. Rake (Member of the Institute of Journalists, as his visiting card testified) was and is, one of the most remarkable personages in Catford.

A literateur of no indifferent quality, an authority on postage stamps (I find on referring to Webster's _Dictionary_ that such an expert is called a philatelist), a vegetarian and a gentleman with pronounced views. Mr. R. B. Rake can be described in one word--tremendous.

He had a tremendous voice and a tremendous style, and he quoted the ancient classics inaccurately. He had some Greek, thus he referred to Sir Harry, as of the [Greek: demioergoi], and the Duke as a [Greek: metoikoi]. I have my doubts as to the latter description, and I more than suspect that Mr. Rake, in referring to his grace, thus misapplied the phrase of "privileged alien."

Mr. Smith, whose duty it was to supervise Sir Harry's "rents," was a deferential little man, with a garbled knowledge of the law relating to property.

"Now, gentlemen," said Sir Harry briskly, "we've got to do something about this Duke man."

"Quite so," said Rake, "it is perhaps unparalleled in the constitutional history----"

"One moment, Rake," interrupted the knight testily, "let me talk. I want to make it very clear to you why it is absolutely necessary for the Duke to be cleared out--did you speak, Smith?"

Mr. Smith did speak: he had an important statement to make and saw his opportunity. Unfortunately his introduction was not happily framed. "I said the lore--if a man acts cont'ry to the lore he's done himself," said Mr. Smith solemnly, "you can't take liberties with the lore, duke or no duke. If you catch hold of the lore by the collar it'll turn round and bite you. Now it happens----"

"Be good enough to withhold your comments until I have completed my remarks," said Sir Harry with asperity, "I know all that it is necessary to know concerning the legal situation: I did not," he added pointedly, "ask you to meet me to discuss an aspect of the situation upon which I have been already advised--by competent authorities."

"Now that is very true," commented Mr. R. B. Rake in a tone of wondering surprise, as though Sir Harry's remark had come in the light of a revelation.

"I know," said Sir Harry, "that I cannot eject this person without complicated legal proceedings, and I had thought that by the aid of our good friend Rake we might have shamed him out of the district--but he is meeting us on our own grounds. He is starting a newspaper."

"I give it a month," said Mr. Rake with conviction, "I've seen these mushroom growths: there was the _Blackheath Eagle_--run by a man named Titty--lasted two issues; there was the _Brockley Buzzard_--lasted one; _Catford and Eltham Indicator_--never came out at all!"

He smiled a tired smile.

"You may be sure that this new paper will last just as long as the Duke desires it to last," said Sir Harry, "but that is beside the question; you know the exact position; you are men of affairs acquainted with the complexities of suburban life, I desire to rid Brockley of this person. How am I to do it?"

Mr. R. B. Rake pinched his thick lips thoughtfully.

"I think a leader on Democratic ideals, bringing in the Duke as an oppressor of the people--"

"You can't do that," said Sir Harry brusquely, "he subscribes to the football club."

"How about an imaginary interview. 'A talk with the D---- de Mont----r?" suggested Rake.

"Or a little parody on Julius Caesar, satirically reminding the people of their ingratitude: like this:

"You hard hearts, you cruel men of Lee,
Knew ye not Tanneur! Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney pots
To see great Tanneur pass----"

"Stuff and nonsense!" said Sir Harry wrathfully. "Nobody has ever climbed up a chimney to see me; nobody knows me in Lewisham."

Mr. Rake protested.

"Nobody knows me I tell you: I've addressed meetings there on Free Trade and all that sort of thing, but I haven't a single acquaintance, except my wretched sister-in-law and her annoying daughter--and what the dooce does Shakespeare say about Tanneur?"

"A pardonable interposition," murmured Mr. Rake noisily. "It is 'Pompey' in the text--you see how admirably it fits the Duke:

"And do you now strew flowers In his (the Duke's) way?
Who comes in triumph over Pompey's (that's you) blood?"

"I--will--not--be--referred--to--as--Pompey," said Sir Harry deliberately and slowly, and thumped the table at each word, "I am not going to give that brute a nickname to hang round my neck."

"And look here, Rake," broke in Hal impatiently, "what the devil's the good of you thinking that any muck you write is likely to shift this Duke fellow. I'll bet if it comes to writing he could write your head off. An' there's nothing funny about the Duke fellow coming in triumph over the governor's blood. Its a beastly tactless thing to say."

Mr. Rake looked at him unfavourably.

"Mr. Hal," he said, in his best editorial manner, "you must allow a journalist and a gentleman----"

"Journalist my grandmother," said Hal, without reverence, "this is a council of war--don't let us raise any debatable question. We've got to think out a way of making this Duke pack up his traps. It doesn't matter what sort of way, so long as it's an effective way. The governor doesn't want him there, and I don't want him--he's taken a low down advantage of me an' probably messed up my whole life----" He tangented abruptly (the accent on the penultimate.)

"Now whilst you two chaps have been arguing," Hal went on, "I've thought out a dozen schemes. We might cut off his water----"

"The lore," said Mr. Smith becoming cheerful as the discussion took a turn into his province, "the lore doesn't allow anybody but the water-rates to turn----"

"Or the gas," said Hal, silencing the law-abiding Smith with a gesture; "we could cut the gas off--we can't get him on the rent question because----"

Mr. Smith's great opportunity came.

"The rent question does him," he said wisely cutting out all preamble, "because he ain't paid his rent, an' won't pay his rent, and what's more, he'll see you (accordin' to the American gent who lives with him) to the--I forget the name of the place--before he pays you."

Sir Harry was dumb with astonishment.

"Here's the letter," said Mr. Smith tremulous with importance, "from the Duke himself."

He read--

"DEAR SIR,--

"On my return from America I found a notice to quit served on behalf of your employer. My lease being well defined, I regard the service of such a notice as constituting a breach of contract, and must respectfully decline to pay any further rental for the premises I now occupy, until my position in regard to this property is determined.

"Yours truly,
"DE MONTVILLIER."

"Outrageous!" blazed the knight.

"Monstrous!" echoed the faithful Rake.

"What a rotten piece of cheek!" said Hal.

Mr. Smith wagged a fat forefinger.

"The lore is," he said, "that the question of lease is between Sir Harry and the tenant. No tenant's got a right to take the lore into his own hands. If there's a breach of contract the tenant may take action through the lore: if he won't pay his rent----"

"Smith," said Sir Harry impressively. "We will humiliate this fellow; we will show these foolish people of Brockley, who have no conception of true nobility, how this trickster may be treated."

"Governor," said Hal suddenly and excitedly, "why not show 'em the genuine article."

"Eh?"

"What about Tuppy? He's under an obligation to you? Why not bring him here. You've got an empty house--62, by jove! Next to the Duke's; the tenants left yesterday...."

"An excellent idea--a most worthy idea," said Sir Harry.