He has been England, and he knows England, and I should say he knows the value of every politician and government official in England pretty well, even if he's never spoken to them.'
Lord Altamount said:
'This is our colleague, Sir James Kleek.'
Stafford Nye didn't know Kleek. He didn't think he'd even heard of him. A restless, fidgety type. Sharp, suspicious glances that never rested anywhere for long. He had the contained eagerness of a sporting dog awaiting the word of command. Ready to start off at a glance from his master's eye.
But who was his master? Altamount or Robinson?
Stafford's eye went round to the fourth man. He had risen to his feet from the chair where he had been sitting close to the door. Bushy moustache, raised eyebrows, watchful, withdrawn, managing in some way to remain familiar yet almost unrecognizable.
'So it's you,' said Sir Stafford Nye, 'how are you, Horsham?'
'Very pleased to see you here. Sir Stafford.'
Quite a representative gathering, Stafford Nye thought, with a swift glance round.
They had set a chair for Renata not far from the fire and Lord Altamount. She had stretched out a hand - her left hand, he noticed - and he had taken it between his two hands, holding it for a minute, then dropping it. He said:
'You took risks, child, you take too many risks.'
Looking at him, she said, 'It was you who taught me that, and it's the only way of life.'
Lord Altamount turned his head towards Sir Stafford Nye.
'It wasn't I who taught you to choose your man. You've got a natural genius for that.' Looking at Stafford Nye, he said, 'I know your great-aunt, or your great-great-aunt, is she?'
'Great-Aunt Matilda,' said Stafford Nye immediately.
'Yes. That's the one. One of the Victorian tours-de-force of the 'nineties. She must be nearly ninety herself now.'
He went on:
'I don't see her very often. Once or twice a year perhaps. But it strikes me every time - that sheer vitality of hers that outlives her bodily strength. They have the secret of that, those indomitable Victorians and some of the Edwardians as well.'
Sir James Kleek said, 'Let me get you a drink, Nye? What will you have?'
'Gin and tonic, if I may.'
The Countess refused with a small shake of the head.
James Kleek brought Nye his drink and set it on the table near Mr Robinson. Stafford Nye was not going to speak first. The dark eyes behind the desk lost their melancholy for a moment. They had quite suddenly a twinkle in them.
'Any questions?' he said.
'Too many,' said Sir Stafford Nye. 'Wouldn't it be better to have explanations first, questions later?'
'Is that what you'd like?'
'It might simplify matters.'
'Well, we start with a few plain statements of facts. You may or you may not have been asked to come here. If not, that fact may rankle slightly.'
'He prefers to be asked always,' said the Countess. 'He said as much to me.'
'Naturally,' said Mr Robinson.
'I was hi-jacked,' said Stafford Nye. 'Very fashionable. I know. One of our more modern methods.'
He kept his tone one of light amusement.
'Which invites, surely, a question from you,' said Mr Robinson.
'Just one small word of three letters. Why?'
'Quite so. Why? I admire your economy of speech. This is a private committee - a committee of inquiry. An inquiry of world-wide significance.'
'Sounds interesting,' said Sir Stafford Nye.
'It is more than interesting. It is poignant and immediate. Four different ways of life are represented in this room tonight,' said Lord Altamount. 'We represent different branches. I have retired from active participation in the affairs of this country, but I am still a consulting authority. I have been consulted and asked to preside over this particular inquiry as to what is going on in the world in this particular year of our Lord, because something is going on. James, here, has his own special task. He is my right hand man. He is also our spokesman. Explain the general set-out, if you will, Jamie, to Sir Stafford here.'
It
Lord Altamount said:
'This is our colleague, Sir James Kleek.'
Stafford Nye didn't know Kleek. He didn't think he'd even heard of him. A restless, fidgety type. Sharp, suspicious glances that never rested anywhere for long. He had the contained eagerness of a sporting dog awaiting the word of command. Ready to start off at a glance from his master's eye.
But who was his master? Altamount or Robinson?
Stafford's eye went round to the fourth man. He had risen to his feet from the chair where he had been sitting close to the door. Bushy moustache, raised eyebrows, watchful, withdrawn, managing in some way to remain familiar yet almost unrecognizable.
'So it's you,' said Sir Stafford Nye, 'how are you, Horsham?'
'Very pleased to see you here. Sir Stafford.'
Quite a representative gathering, Stafford Nye thought, with a swift glance round.
They had set a chair for Renata not far from the fire and Lord Altamount. She had stretched out a hand - her left hand, he noticed - and he had taken it between his two hands, holding it for a minute, then dropping it. He said:
'You took risks, child, you take too many risks.'
Looking at him, she said, 'It was you who taught me that, and it's the only way of life.'
Lord Altamount turned his head towards Sir Stafford Nye.
'It wasn't I who taught you to choose your man. You've got a natural genius for that.' Looking at Stafford Nye, he said, 'I know your great-aunt, or your great-great-aunt, is she?'
'Great-Aunt Matilda,' said Stafford Nye immediately.
'Yes. That's the one. One of the Victorian tours-de-force of the 'nineties. She must be nearly ninety herself now.'
He went on:
'I don't see her very often. Once or twice a year perhaps. But it strikes me every time - that sheer vitality of hers that outlives her bodily strength. They have the secret of that, those indomitable Victorians and some of the Edwardians as well.'
Sir James Kleek said, 'Let me get you a drink, Nye? What will you have?'
'Gin and tonic, if I may.'
The Countess refused with a small shake of the head.
James Kleek brought Nye his drink and set it on the table near Mr Robinson. Stafford Nye was not going to speak first. The dark eyes behind the desk lost their melancholy for a moment. They had quite suddenly a twinkle in them.
'Any questions?' he said.
'Too many,' said Sir Stafford Nye. 'Wouldn't it be better to have explanations first, questions later?'
'Is that what you'd like?'
'It might simplify matters.'
'Well, we start with a few plain statements of facts. You may or you may not have been asked to come here. If not, that fact may rankle slightly.'
'He prefers to be asked always,' said the Countess. 'He said as much to me.'
'Naturally,' said Mr Robinson.
'I was hi-jacked,' said Stafford Nye. 'Very fashionable. I know. One of our more modern methods.'
He kept his tone one of light amusement.
'Which invites, surely, a question from you,' said Mr Robinson.
'Just one small word of three letters. Why?'
'Quite so. Why? I admire your economy of speech. This is a private committee - a committee of inquiry. An inquiry of world-wide significance.'
'Sounds interesting,' said Sir Stafford Nye.
'It is more than interesting. It is poignant and immediate. Four different ways of life are represented in this room tonight,' said Lord Altamount. 'We represent different branches. I have retired from active participation in the affairs of this country, but I am still a consulting authority. I have been consulted and asked to preside over this particular inquiry as to what is going on in the world in this particular year of our Lord, because something is going on. James, here, has his own special task. He is my right hand man. He is also our spokesman. Explain the general set-out, if you will, Jamie, to Sir Stafford here.'
It
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