“When I joined up in January, 1901—just two years ago—youngGodfrey Emsworth had joined the same squadron. He was ColonelEmsworth’s only son—Emsworth the Crimean V. C.—and he hadthe fighting blood in him, so it is no wonder he volunteered. Therewas not a finer lad in the regiment. We formed a friendship—thesort of friendship which can only be made when one lives the samelife and shares the same joys and sorrows. He was my mate—andthat means a good deal in the Army. We took the rough and thesmooth together for a year of hard fighting. Then he was hit witha bullet from an elephant gun in the action near Diamond Hilloutside Pretoria. I got one letter from the hospital at Cape Townand one from Southampton. Since then not a word—not oneword, Mr. Holmes, for six months and more, and he my closestpal.
“Well, when the war was over, and we all got back, I wrote tohis father and asked where Godfrey was. No answer. I waited a bitand then I wrote again. This time I had a reply, short and gruff.
Godfrey had gone on a voyage round the world, and it was notlikely that he would be back for a year. That was all.
“I wasn’t satisfied, Mr. Holmes. The whole thing seemed to meso damned unnatural. He was a good lad, and he would not dropa pal like that. It was not like him. Then, again, I happened toknow that he was heir to a lot of money, and also that his fatherand he did not always hit it off too well. The old man was sometimesa bully, and young Godfrey had too much spirit to stand it. No, Iwasn’t satisfied, and I determined that I would get to the root of thematter. It happened, however, that my own affairs needed a lot ofstraightening out, after two years’ absence, and so it is only this weekthat I have been able to take up Godfrey’s case again. But since I havetaken it up I mean to drop everything in order to see it through.”
Mr. James M. Dodd appeared to be the sort of person whom itwould be better to have as a friend than as an enemy. His blue eyeswere stern and his square jaw had set hard as he spoke.
“Well, what have you done?” I asked.
“My first move was to get down to his home, Tuxbury Old Park,near Bedford, and to see for myself how the ground lay. I wrote tothe mother, therefore—I had had quite enough of the curmudgeonof a father—and I made a clean frontal attack: Godfrey was mychum, I had a great deal of interest which I might tell her of ourcommon experiences, I should be in the neighbourhood, wouldthere be any objection, et cetera? In reply I had quite an amiableanswer from her and an offer to put me up for the night. That waswhat took me down on Monday.
“Tuxbury Old Hall is inaccessible—five miles from anywhere.
There was no trap at the station, so I had to walk, carrying mysuitcase, and it was nearly dark before I arrived. It is a greatwandering house, standing in a considerable park. I should judgeit was of all sorts of ages and styles, starting on a half-timberedElizabethan foundation and ending in a Victorian portico. Insideit was all panelling and tapestry and half-effaced old pictures, ahouse of shadows and mystery. There was a butler, old Ralph, whoseemed about the same age as the house, and there was his wife,who might have been older. She had been Godfrey’s nurse, andI had heard him speak of her as second only to his mother in hisaffections, so I was drawn to her in spite of her queer appearance.
The mother I liked also—a gentle little white mouse of a woman.
It was only the colonel himself whom I barred.
“We had a bit of barney right away, and I should have walkedback to the station if I had not felt that it might be playing hisgame for me to do so. I was shown straight into his study, andthere I found him, a huge, bow-backed man with a smoky skinand a straggling gray beard, seated behind his littered desk. A redveinednose jutted out like a vulture’s beak, and two fierce grayeyes glared at me from under tufted brows. I could understandnow why Godfrey seldom spoke of his father.
“ ‘Well, sir,’ said he in a rasping voice, ‘I should be interested toknow the real reasons for this visit.’
“I answered that I had explained them in my letter to his wife.
“ ‘Yes, yes, you said that you had known Godfrey in Africa. Wehave, of course, only your word for that.’
“ ‘I have his letters to me in my pocket.’
“ ‘Kindly let me see them.’
“He glanced at the two which I handed him, and then he tossedthem back.
“ ‘Well, what then?’ he asked.
“ ‘I was fond of your son Godfrey, sir. Many ties and memoriesunited us. Is it not natural that I should wonder at his suddensilence and should wish to know what has become of him?’
“ ‘I have some recollections, sir, that I had already correspondedwith you and had told you what had become of him. He has goneupon a voyage round the world. His health was in a poor wayafter his African experiences, and both his mother and I were ofopinion that complete rest and change were needed. Kindly passthat explanation on to any other friends who may be interested inthe matter.’
“ ‘Certainly,’ I answered. ‘But perhaps you would have thegoodness to let me have the name of the steamer and of the lineby which he sailed, together with the date. I have no doubt that Ishould be able to get a letter through to him.’
“My request seemed both to puzzle and to irritate my host. Hisgreat eyebrows came down over his eyes, and he tapped his fingersimpatiently on the table. He looked up at last with the expressionof one who has seen his adversary make a dangerous move atchess, and has decided how to meet it.
“ ‘Many people, Mr. Dodd,’ said he, ‘would take offence at yourinfernal pertinacity and would think that this insistence hadreached the point of damned impertinence.’
“ ‘You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son.’
“ ‘Exactly. I have already made every allowance upon that score.