Many Dimensions, Charles Williams [black authors fiction TXT] 📗
- Author: Charles Williams
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waiting for Oliver to be found, said: “After all, when this is over—I
suppose it will be, some time—there is Organic Law. If you like. Not
that you really care for Organic Law, do you, child?”
She answered his smile with another, flushing a little, then she said:
“I do see something of it, I think. But it seems so far away from…..”
“People,” Lord Arglay said. “And yet so is the Stone. Or it looks like
it. On our last night’s hypothesis—Is that Mr. Doncaster? This is Lord
Arglay. Mr. Doncaster, are you doing anything urgent to-day, either for
yourself or for Don Quixote?
I was wondering whether you could and would take Miss Burnett to
Birmingham…. O the same story…. Yes, she’ll tell you all about it
in the train…. Do. Goodbye.—So that’s settled.”
“I don’t know what use he’s going to be,” Chloe said.
“O—lunch,” said Lord Arglay, “and tickets… have you any money, by
the way? I’ll get you some… and to keep an eye on your back in case
a Persian attacks you with a yataghan or what not.”
“And what use am I going to be?” Chloe asked.
“You will be of one chief use,” Arglay answered. “You will discover all
that is possible of the nature of the Stone.” He put his arm over her
shoulders and she reached up her hand and took his. “It may be,” he
went on, “that before these things are ended we shall have great need
of knowing… and perhaps of trusting… the Stone.”
NATIONAL TRANSPORT
The General Secretary of the National Transport Union listened to his
subordinate the next morning with considerable incredulity. It was, in
fact, only the caution necessary to his official position that
prevented him being openly contemptuous, and even that caution was
strained.
“Do you expect me to believe that a man can fly through walls and
ceilings?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Carnegie said deferentially. “I don’t expect you to believe
anything—I don’t know that I do. But I thought you’d like to know what
was being’said.”
“But who’s saying it—except some friend of yours?” the General
Secretary asked. “I mean—it’s not evidence, is it?”
“My friend mentioned Lord Arglay, sir,” Carnegie ventured. “That’s
really what made me decide to tell you.”
“What!” the General Secretary said, “I’d forgotten that bit. D’you mean
the Chief Justice?”
“Yes, sir. This girl is his secretary.”
Mr. Theophilus Merridew got up and went across to the fireplace, at
which he stood staring.
“It’s obviously got twisted round somehow,” he said at last irritably.
“But what on earth could get twisted into such a fantastic tale? I
think I’d better see your friend, Carnegie.”
“Yes, sir,” Carnegie said. “You won’t forget that he may not really
have meant to tell me so much?”
“I shouldn’t think he did,” the General Secretary answered. “If I
hadn’t always found you a very reliable fellow—and if it wasn’t for
Lord Arglay—I met him once on a Commission
and he seemed a very level-headed sort of man. But this…. No, I
won’t. The whole thing’s too ridiculous…. But what the devil can it
be they’ve got hold of? Tell me all about it again.”
Carnegie did so, stressing his own unbelief and his anxiety merely to
bring it to his chief’s notice as part of his official duty, however
wild the rumour might be, in anything that had to do with transport.
“Can’t we get hold of a bit of this precious Stone?” Merridew asked at
the end. “Who’s got it?”
“Well, sir, the girl’s got a bit—because Lindsay wanted it, and I
understood Lord Arglay had, and of course the Government because of
this affair at Rich. I don’t know who else. O! Sheldrake.”
“What!” said Merridew. “What, the Atlantic Airways man? Why didn’t you
say so before? I know Sheldrake well enough—I’ll go and see him.
Whatever bit of truth there is behind this he’ll have got hold of. And
if the bit of truth is anything we ought to know about—he won’t want an
upset any more than we do.”
“I thought he was on the other side, sir,” Carnegie said smiling.
“Profits mean employment, employment means profits,” said Mr. Merridew.
“Didn’t we agree on that at the last Conciliation Conference? Very well
then. I’ll see if I can get him at once.”
It happened therefore a little later that morning that Sheldrake was
asked if he could see Mr. Merridew, who for one reason or another was a
fairly frequent caller and was admitted.
“I’ve come on a funny, business,” he said cheerfully, sitting down. “I
want to know anything you can tell me about this Stone of yours.”
“Eh?” said Sheldrake, really surprised, for he could imagine no reason
why Merridew should take an interest in a medicinal
stone. And there had been nothing else in the papers. “The Stone? Why
do you want to know about the Stone?”
The General Secretary, equally in fear of ridicule and negligence, went
carefully.
“I want to know what truth there isin this rumour that Lord Arglay’s
putting about,” he said, “that it’s going to do something queer to
transport.”
“Transport?” Sheldrake asked with a pretence of renewed surprise. “Does
Lord Arglay say that?”
“No no,” Mr. Merridew said. “You don’t catch me committing myself to
that, not with a lawyer. I don’t mind letting his name drop in, so to
speak, between you and me, but actually perhaps I’d better say—what
truth there is in this rumour that’s got about? I needn’t tell you
that, whatever it is, we don’t want transport reduced any more than you
do.”
Sheldrake thought for a minute or two. On the one hand he wasn’t
anxious to bring anyone into the secret; on the other, to have the
Union at his back would bring extra pressure to bear on the Government,
of whose intentions he still remained doubtful. It had been desirable
that he should recover his own Stone, but it was absolutely necessary
that he should stop any ideas—still more than copies—of it from
getting about. That would be, if not ruin, at least very considerable
inconvenience. And it would mean very considerable inconvenience to Mr.
Merridew’s clients also, of that he was sure. Weighing all this in his
mind, and throwing into the balance Mr. Merridew’s own reputed and
experienced discretion, he decided to speak. He gave, without names, a
summary of how it had reached him, of the concern felt in high
quarters, of its powers medicinal and expeditory. And finally he drew
from his inner waistcoat pocket the absurd Thing itself, and, very
carefully holding it, displayed it to Mr. Merridew, who sat staring at
it.
“Well,” he said at last, “that’s not going to damage transport, is it?
It looks like nothing on earth. What’s it supposed to do? What… what
is it?” he ended helplessly.
Sheldrake shook his head. “Tumulty says something about it being an
original.”
“Ooriginal enough,” Mr. Merridew murmured, still staring.
“And Lord Arglay told my wife it was the centre of the derivations,”
Sheldrake added.
“Centre of what derivations?” Merridew asked, more bewildered than
ever. “Look here, Sheldrake, can’t you show me what it’ll do? What
happens when you… use it, if that’s the word?”
Sheldrake being not unwilling to convince him, Mr. Merridew emerged
from the next few minutes in a startled and very anxious condition. It
seemed clear indeed that transport was going to be in a serious state
of collapse if the Stone was multiplied. On the other hand he very
naturally and very badly wanted it.
“But what’s this girl doing with it?” he asked. “Carnegie told me that
his friend said she was Arglay’s secretary and she had one.”
“I know, I know,” Sheldrake said. “Arglay and she have them, and I wish
they hadn’t. But I can’t get Birlesmere to do anything drastic; this
Chief Justice is too important to be… just dealt with, so he says. I
don’t suppose he’ll do anything with it, but I wish to God we had them
all under lock and key. It’s not safe while they’re about in the
world.”
Merridew got up meditatively. “Well, anyhow,” he said,
“we run together in this. You’ll let me know of any developments?”
“I will,” Sheldrake answered. “And keep it quiet. You won’t want your
conferences to get nervy. Tell me if you manage to get hold of
Arglay’s.”
“I don’t know about Arglay’s,” Merridew said, “but I wonder whether…
All right. Goodbye for now.”
He returned to his office still in profound meditation and when he had
reached it sent for Carnegie.
“This friend of yours,” he began, “the fellow who told you about the
Stone—I’ve seen Sheldrake, and I’m bound to say
it seems a serious business—you keep your mouth shut, Carnegie, and
stand by me, and I’ll look after you… understand? Very well. As I
was saying, this friend of yours—who is he?”
Carnegie explained Frank Lindsay.
“Well offl”’ asked Mr. Merridew. “No, of course not. And he was a bit
up in the air over it, was he? Is he a… sensible fellow? The kind
that can see where his own interests lie?”
“I think so, sir,” Carnegie said. “He always seemed to me a pretty
level-headed chap. Reads a good deal, but I suppose he has to do that.”
“Yes… -umph… well,” said the other. “Get him round here, will
you, Carnegie? Ask him to look in here at lunch time; ask him to lunch—no, better not; that would look too eager. Ask him to look in and see
me. You needn’t let him know what you’ve told me. just that I was
speaking of the Stone and you mentioned you knew someone who knew this
Miss Burnett who is the Chief Justice’s secretary. See?”
Carnegie saw at any rate sufficiently well to lure Frank round to the
offices of the Union, and there introduced him to Mr. Merridew, who was
extremely interested and affable.
“Ah, Mr. Lindsay, how kind of you! Do sit down. Don’t go, Carnegie,
don’t go. It’s a shame to trouble you about this, Mr. Lindsay, but if
you can help us I needn’t say how grateful I should be. Of course I
quite understand that this is all confidential. Now I’m in a state of
great anxiety, very great anxiety indeed, and when Carnegie let out
that he knew you and that you were in touch with the Lord Chief Justice
and so on, I thought a little chat couldn’t at any rate do any harm.
It’s all about this Stone of yours.”
“Not of mine, I’m afraid,” Frank said. His first feeling on waking that
morning had been that he had been rather hard on Chloe, but as he
dressed and became more clearly aware that the examination was one
morning nearer this had given
way to the feeling that Chloe had been very hard on him. In which
opinion he still remained. “I’ve not even seen it properly.”
“It’s Miss Burnett who has it?” Mr. Merridew asked halfcasually.
“It is,” said Frank. “And of course Lord Arglay.”
“Ah, yes, Lord Arglay,” Merridew assented. “Lord Arglay -have you ever
met him?”
“Once,” Frank said.
“Lord Arglay is a delightful man in himself, I believe,” Merridew went
on, “but I’m not sure that he isn’t in some ways a little narrow-minded. A lawyer is almost bound to be perhaps. However, that’s neither
here nor there. My own trouble is quite simple. I’m responsible, as far
as any man is, for all the members of this Union getting
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