The Secret of the Tower | Page 8

perhaps."
During the talk Hooper had been to a cupboard and mixed a glass of
whisky and soda. He brought it to Beaumaroy and put it on a small
table by him. Beaumaroy regarded his squat paunchy figure, red face,
small eyes (a squint in one of them), and bulbous nose with a patient
and benign toleration.
"Since you can't expect, Sergeant, to prepossess the judge and jury in
your favor, the instant you make your appearance in the box--"
"Here, what are you on to, sir?"
"It's the more important for you to have it clearly in your mind that we
are laboring in the cause of humanity, freedom, and justice. Exactly
like the Allies in the late war, you know, Sergeant. Keep that in your
mind, clinch it! He hasn't wanted you to do anything particular to-night,
or asked for me?"
"No, sir. He's happy with--with what you call his playthings."
"What are they but playthings?" asked Beaumaroy, tilting his glass to
his lips with a smile perhaps a little wry.
"Only I wish as you wouldn't talk about judges and juries," the Sergeant
complained.
"I really don't know whether it's a civil or a criminal matter, or both, or
neither," Beaumaroy admitted candidly. "But what we do know,
Sergeant, is that it provides us with excellent billets and rations.

Moreover, a thing that you certainly will not appreciate, it gratifies my
taste for the mysterious."
"I hope there's a bit more coming from it than that," said the Sergeant.
"That is, if we stick together faithful, sir."
"Oh, we shall! One thing puzzles me about you, Sergeant. I don't think
I've mentioned it before. Sometimes you speak almost like an educated
man; at others your speech is, well, illiterate."
"Well, sir, it's a sort of mixture of my mother; she was class, the
blighter who come after my father, and the Board School--"
"Of course! What they call the educational ladder! That explains it. By
the way, I'm thinking of changing our doctor."
"Good job, too. I 'ate that Irechester. Stares at you, that chap does."
"Does he stare at your eyes?'" asked Beaumaroy thoughtfully.
"I don't know that he does at my eyes particularly. Nothing wrong with
'em, is there?" The Sergeant sounded rather truculent.
"Never mind that; but I fancied he stared at Mr. Saffron's. And I've read
somewhere, in some book or other, that doctors can tell, or guess, by
the eyes. Well, that's only an idea. How does a lady doctor appeal to
you, Sergeant?"
"I should be shy," said the Sergeant, grinning.
"Vulgar! vulgar!" Beaumaroy murmured.
"That Dr. Mary Arkroyd?"
"I had thought of her."
"She ought to be fair easy to kid. You 'ave notions sometimes, sir."
Beaumaroy stretched out his legs, debonnair, well-rounded legs, to the

seducing blaze of oak logs.
"I haven't really a care in the world," he said.
The Sergeant's reply, or comment, had a disconcerting ring. "And
you're sure of 'Eaven? That's what the bloke always says to the
'angman."
"I've no intention of being a murderer, Sergeant." Beaumaroy's
eyebrows were raised in gentle protest.
"Once you're in with a job, you never know," his retainer observed
darkly.
Beaumaroy laughed. "Oh, go to the devil! and mix me another whisky."
Yet a vague uneasiness showed itself on his face; he looked across the
room at the evil-shaped man handling the bottles in the cupboard. He
made one queer, restless movement of his arms, as though to free
himself. Then, in a moment, he sprang from his chair, a glad kindly
smile illuminating his face; he bowed in a very courtly fashion,
exclaiming, "Ah! here you are, sir? And all well, I hope?"
Mr. Saffron had entered from the door leading to the Tower, carefully
closing it after him. Hooper's hand went up to his forehead in the ghost
of a military salute, but a sneering smile persisted on his lips. The only
notice Mr. Saffron took of him was a jerk of the head towards the
passage, an abrupt and ungracious dismissal, which, however, the
Sergeant silently accepted and stumped out. The greeting reserved for
Beaumaroy was vastly different. Beaumaroy's own cordiality was more
than reciprocated. It seemed impossible to doubt that a genuine
affection existed between the elder and the younger man, though the
latter had not thought fit to mention the fact to Sergeant Hooper.
"A tiring day, my dear Hector, very tiring. I've transacted a lot of
business. But never mind that, it will keep. What of your doings?"
Having sat the old man in the big chair by the fire, Beaumaroy
sauntered across to the door of the Tower, locked it, and put the key in

his pocket. Then he returned to the fire and, standing in front of it, gave
a lively and detailed