Chapter VI

Mr. Nape, the eminent editor, sat before his desk in the editorial offices of the _Aristocrat_. His long black hair was rumpled, his pen-holder bore marks of a severe biting. Before him were pigeon-holes neatly labelled "Government--Attack on," "Imperialism and Crime," "Comprenez Vous?" (this was the already famous rival column to "On Dit" in a rival sheet), "New Ideas," "Notes for Leader" and similar comprehensive titles. There was a pigeon-hole marked "Advertisements," but this was empty.

Mr. Nape was sore, for the _L. & L. Mail_ had discovered the identity of the _Aristocrat's_ editor, and had referred to him as "a peddling crimemonger" and a "contemptible plagiarist," to say nothing of calling him "a pseudo Holmes."

In consequence, he had for three days, devoted himself to a feverish hunt into the antecedents of Mr. R. B. Rake.

He learned that Mr. Rake had at one period of his career been engaged as schoolmaster--a peg to hang "priggish pedagogue" upon--that he drew inspiration for his leaders from Hydeholme ("gregarious gramophone"), that he was a gentleman of loud voice and aggressive self-confident manner--"pomp and circumstance" wrote Mr. Nape cleverly, and other more or less important items, all of which went into the Leader.

In truth Mr. Nape's reply to the slanderous innuendoes of the _L. & L. Mail_ might be described as having been effective and complete.

Now Mr. Nape was in a quandary, because he was engaged in a distasteful task.

This was none other than the booming of the Tuppy party and, worst of all, the editing of a letter of apology.

It would appear in the first case, that in honour of our distinguished neighbour, Lord Tupping, Mrs. Stanley Terrill would give a reception at her house; that amongst others the following eminent people would be present. Sir Harry Tanneur, the Mayor of Brockley, the Vicar, Captain Hal Tanneur (9th R.W. Kents) and others too numerous to mention. Bewildered that the citadel of the Duke's fiancee should shelter the arch enemy, Mr. Nape had commenced a long and scathing satire entitled "The Pier Master" (a happy description of Sir Harry), when peremptory orders came for its suppression and the substitution of laudatory notices concerning the forthcoming function.

It had required all the Duke's powers of persuasion to induce Tuppy to accept the invitation.

"It's a plant," said Tuppy furiously, "it's the old Tanner bird showin' off the captive at his chariot's wheel: he's dazed that poor dear lady into givin' a party--I'm not goin'. High Jupiter! Devastin' Ulysses!" he swore, "did that dear old thing Guy Tuppin' go down on the stricken field of Crecy, all mucked about with two handed sword an' maces an' things, for this! Did----"

"You cannot escape a tea-party by reference to your alleged ancestors," said the Duke calmly, "in the stricken field time of business Tanner can give you a stone and a beating. Tuppy, you've got to go."

So Mr. Nape sat, though his soul revolted, engaged in writing pleasantly and amiably and heartily, a fore-notice of the reception which was to introduce Lord Tupping to his awe-stricken neighbours.

His task was made all the more difficult by the knowledge that already public interest had been aroused in the attempt to jockey the Duke from the suburbs. That letters signed "Fair-play" and "Pro Bono Publico" had begun to arrive, that a meeting of the Ratepayers' Association had been projected, and that there were not wanting other signs of the Duke's growing popularity in the neighbourhood. Mr. Nape had suddenly found himself a political force; he had the satisfaction of knowing that he was behind the scenes; crowning joy of all, he had been referred to as a "wire puller" and had displayed the significant phrase, with an affectation of nonchalance, to Hank.

"He means a leg puller," said Hank.

"We don't think you treat this matter seriously enough," said Mr. Nape severely; "we have a certain duty to our party; a certain responsibility to our public; the whole district is ripe for change; the job of dismissing the water-cart man has roused considerable feeling; the appointment of the workhouse master's son to the position of rate collector is a scandal--people are asking how long, how long?"

"How long?" demanded the Duke.

"How long," repeated Mr. Nape.

"I mean how long have they been asking that remarkable question?"

Mr. Nape coughed modestly.

"It coincided with the appearance of our little leaderette on 'Subconscious Corruption,'" he admitted.

As to the letter of apology, the Duke silenced criticism with extraordinary brusqueness. The change in the policy of the _Aristocrat_ was revolutionary. It affected Mr. Nape dismally, it affected Mr. R. B. Rake, editor of the _L. & L._ staggeringly--it had a paralysing effect upon the household at Hydeholme.

"Now what on earth is the meaning of this," demanded the knight. He stabbed the newspaper with his short forefinger. The article it referred to was headed "An Open Letter."

It began--

"To one whom I have offended."

"That's me, of course," said the knight and read on.

As he read and re-read he grew more and more bewildered, for this was an apology, an abject grovelling plea for forgiveness.

"_It is forbidden that I should see you----_"

"Quite right," said Sir Harry. "I told William that under no circumstance he was to admit him."

"_My letters are returned unopened_" (Sir Harry smiled grimly. He _had_ received a letter in the Duke's handwriting and had promptly reposted it), "_and with every day comes a surer knowledge of my error in opposing your will...._

"_It is this realization that has decided me upon my future conduct. You wish me to go away--I will go. You wish me to be more considerate_"--("I've never said so in so many words," commented the knight)--"_you desire that I should forego all local ambition and retire to the oblivion from whence I sprang--so be it._"

"Remarkable," was all that Sir Harry could say.

"_If I have caused you pain by my presumption_"--("Pain!" said Sir Harry, and thought of the sixty thousand pounds)--"_I am sorry. I return to the wilds, to the illimitable breadth and length of the wilderness. Here on some waterless plain, where vultures hover in the clear blue sky...._"

"D'ye know," said Sir Harry helplessly. "D'ye know, Hal. I really cannot understand this business. I really can _not_. Last week he was referring to me as 'the sort of person who had made England what she was'--in quite an objectionable way--spoke insultingly about the leather trade and referred meaningly to Hidebound Arrogance. Now----!"

"It's Tuppy!" said Hal. "I knew it would happen; Tuppy is the chap who is working the oracle. As soon as the idea occurred to me I said, 'By Jove! that's a corker!'"

Sir Harry fixed his pince-nez more firmly on his nose and continued to read--

"_I have dared too much_" ("I should jolly well say so," interjected Hal), "_I have moved too fast and I pay the penalty. Our contract is broken_" ("That's an important admission if he goes into court about the lease," commented Sir Harry over his glasses); _"at the appointed time I will remove myself. Farewell._"

Sir Harry folded up the paper. He looked at Hal, and Hal looked at him. Then Sir Harry took off his glasses, folded them and placed them ceremoniously in his waistcoat pocket.

"May we say," he queried with majestic calm, "that we have triumphed?"

Strangely enough this "Open Letter" inspired the same question in the mind of Alicia Terrill.