“It’s extravagant8, trouble-shirking, and generally manlike.”
“Marry me,” said he, “and you shall have a house economical, trouble-inviting and generally woman-like. Any kind of old house you consider ideal.”
“You’ll want four or five servants to run it,” she objected, ignoring his proposition. “Where are you going to get them from in these war times?”
“They’re already there. A cook who’ll act as housekeeper9——”
“You’ll be robbed right and left.”
“Come and save me,” said Baltazar.
“Pity won’t do, my dear,” said he.
“Then you must go your own way.”
“I’m going it,” said Baltazar. “Perhaps you’ll come to Sussex Gardens now and then to see Godfrey. Possibly Quong Ho?”
“I might even come to see John Baltazar,” said Marcelle.
So Baltazar settled down in the big house and gave himself up to the infinite interests of war-racked London. The weeks and the months passed. Quong Ho at Cambridge, under the benign12 tutelage of Dr. Sheepshanks, began the study of Greek for his Little Go, and wrote to his patron curious impressions of the University. “I have the option,” said he, “of taking up for this examination either an infant’s primer on Logic13 compiled by an illustrious thinker of a bygone age, called Jevons, or a humorous work on the Evidence of Christianity, by the divine Paley, who seems to have been one of the patriarchs of the Anglican Church. As the latter seems the more entertaining, seeing that it tends to destroy in the mind of the reasoning believer all faith in the historical truth of the Christian15 religion, I am studying it with a deep interest based on the analogy between English and Chinese academic conservatism. On the other hand, dear sir and most venerated16 master, if you could suggest a course in Theology more in consonance with modern philosophical17 thought, I should derive18 from it much instruction and recreation.” Baltazar bade him get on with his Greek, so that if he wanted light reading, he could soothe19 his leisure hours with Aristotle and Thucydides. “I am working at Greek, like stags,” wrote Quong Ho later; “with all the more zeal20 because I find I have completed already the mathematical course required for my Tripos.” Some time afterwards he wrote again: “If you, most honoured sir, would permit me, I should esteem21 it a privilege to read for the Science Tripos as well as the Mathematical. I should enjoy the possibility of the application of my sound mathematical equipment to the higher branches of physics.” “Do what you like, my dear fellow,” replied Baltazar. “Suck the old place dry.” Quong Ho delighted him. Sheepshanks wrote enthusiastically of the rare bird. “He will be a monument,” said he, “to your sound and masterly teaching. I wish you would come back to us.” But Baltazar had other things to do. Having set his house in order, established Quong Ho at Cambridge, seen Godfrey accept his filial position and cemented relations, such as they were, with Marcelle, he plunged22 head foremost into the war. Others floundered about in it, tired after two strenuous23 years of buffeting24. He came to it fresh, with new zeal and unimpaired strength of mind and body. With a new, keen judgment25, too, being in the unique position of one with historical perspective. Others had lived through the fateful years and could not clear their brains of the myraid cross-currents that had swirled26 through them day by day, almost hour by hour, and had systematized themselves into their mental being, so that, with all their passionate27 patriotism29, they could not see the main course. Baltazar brought an untroubled and vigorous intellect to bear on an accurately30 studied situation.
“We’re all at sixes and sevens,” cried Weatherley one day in despair, when they were discussing the new weekly review of the Far Eastern policy which he had asked Baltazar to control. “Unless we’re careful, the project will drop to pieces. Russell now declines to edit it unless we give him an autocratic hand. But Russell’s mad on Slovenes and Ruthenes and Croats. Clever as he is, he has no sense of proportion. I don’t know what the devil we’re going to do. There’s no one else can give the time. For the review to be any good, a man must throw his whole soul into it.”
Baltazar had one of his flashes. “If you like, I’ll edit the damned thing. You’ve all been fiddling31 about for a title. I’ve got one. ‘The New Universe.’ I’ll undertake to make a living thing of it, wipe out all the dreary32, weary old weekly and monthly respectabilities. We won’t have a second-rater writing for it. We’ll appeal to ‘Longleat’s towers’ and ‘Mendip’s sunless caves.’ We’ll make it the one thing that matters in this quill-driven country. We’ll have it translated into all known languages and circulate it over the civilized33 earth. It’ll be the only publication that’ll give everybody the truth about everything.”
He went on in his vehement34 way. When Weatherley asked him where the money for so gigantic a scheme was to come from, he quoted the Tichborne claimant.
“Some has money and no brains and some has brains and no money. If those with no money can’t get money from those with no brains, God help them.”
And it came to pass, a few days afterwards, at a meeting of the committee of the new review, that Baltazar had his way. As he looked with even vision on Ruthenes, Slovenes, Belgians, Hereros, Jugo-Slavs, British miners, Samoans, the staff of the Foreign Office, Indian princes, Mrs. Annie Besant, the denizens35 of Arkansas, the Southern Chinese, the gilded36 adorners of Newport, the Women’s Emergency League, the Wilhelmstrasse, Armenians, and the Young Men’s Christian Association, a fact elicited37 by lengthy38 discussion of the multitudinous phases of world politics, and as he succeeded in convincing all the several zealots of particular interests, that their impassioned aims were an integral part of his far-reaching scheme, they came unanimously to the conclusion that no one but he had the universality to edit The New Universe, and passed a resolution promising39 him their loyal co-operation.
“I’m going to make this darned thing hum,” said Baltazar to Weatherley.
Money was the first object. Brains he could command in plenty. He envisaged40 London as his El Dorado. The history of his exploitation of the capitalist and landowner would, if it were published, become a text-book on the science and remain forever a classic. He forced wealth-guarding doors of whose existence he had been ignorant six months before; by a stroke of the genius which had brought him his position in China, he secured the support, financial and moral, without the control of an important group of newspapers; he enlisted41 the aid of every possible unit in his rapidly increasing circle of acquaintance. The scope of the Weekly had extended far beyond the modest bounds of its conception. Originally it was to be an appeal to the thinkers of all nations. “Damn thinkers,” said Baltazar. “They’re as scarce as angels and about as useful. We want to put thoughts into the heads of those that don’t think. It’s the Doers we want to get hold of. A thing academic is a thing dead. This is going to live.” Some of the superior smiled at his enthusiasm; but Baltazar damned them and went his way. This was going to be the Great Teaching Crusade of the War, the most far-sweeping instrument of propaganda known to journalism42. He pulled all strings43, brought in all parties. A high dignitary of the Labour World and a Tory Duke of unimpeachable44 integrity found themselves appointed as Trustees of The New Universe Publication Fund. Money flowed in.
One day he ran across Pillivant, in St. James’s Street, Pillivant mainly individualized by a sable45 fur coat and a lustrous46 silk hat and a monstrous47 cigar cutting his red face like a fifteen-inch gun cutting the deck of a battleship. Baltazar greeted him as a long-lost brother and haled him off to lunch at his club. Mellowed48 by the club’s famous Chambertin and 1870 port, he took a rosy49 view of all kinds of worlds including The New Universe, as presented by his host. It was a great scheme, he agreed. He was sick of all newspapers, no matter of what shades of opinion. They were all the same. Honesty was not in them. Nor was there honesty in any Government. Men with not a quarter of what he had done for the country to their credit, were being rewarded with peerages and baronetcies. In the New Year’s Honours List he had not been mentioned. Not even offered a beastly knighthood. But it didn’t matter. He was a patriot28. And it was very fine old brandy, and he didn’t mind if he did have another glass. Still, if a man put down a thousand pounds for a thing, it was only business prudence50 to know where he stood.
“You’ll stand here,” cried Baltazar, spreading before his eyes a printed list of the General Committee, a galaxy51 of dazzling names. “You’ll take rank in the forefront of the biggest patriotic52 crusade that ever was. Your light will no longer be under a bushel. It will shine before men. What’s the good of your name being lost in a close-printed subscription53 list? This is a totally different thing. Your appearance here will give you position. Look at the people. Have you ever stood in with a crowd like this before?”
Baltazar held the mellowed profiteer with his compelling eyes.
“I can’t say that I have,” replied Pillivant. “But all the same——”
“But all the same,” Baltazar interrupted, “you’ve been at loggerheads with the War Office. There was that question asked in the House over the Aerodrome contract. You told me about it yourself. Now listen to me carefully”—Baltazar played a gambler’s card—“your coming in with us will be a guarantee of integrity. It’s obvious that no one on this list could do otherwise than run straight. The worry it would save you!” He looked at his watch and jumped up. “By George! I’ve got an appointment with our Treasurer54, Lord Beldon. Would you like to come along and hear more about the scheme? Waiter! Ask them to get me a taxi. We’ll find our hats and coats round here.”
He drove a gratified Pillivant to Chesterfield Gardens and introduced him to Lord Beldon (with whom he had no appointment whatever) as an enthusiastic believer in The New Universe, ready to finance it to the extent of two or three thousand pounds. “Three thousand, wasn’t it?”
“I said between two and three thousand,” replied Pillivant, flattered at his reception by the powerful old peer, and not daring to fall back on the original one thousand that had been vaguely55 suggested. A bluff56, of course, for which he admired Baltazar, although he cursed him in his heart; but was it worth while calling it? He could buy up this old blighter of a lord twice over. He would show him that he had the money. “I was thinking of two thousand five hundred,” he continued. “But what’s a miserable57 five hundred? Yes. You can put me down for three thousand. In fact”—with a flourish he drew a cheque-book from his pocket—“I’ll write you the cheque now, payable58, I presume, to the Right Honourable59 the Earl of Beldon.”
“Or The New Universe. As you please.”
“Better be personal,” said Pillivant, enjoying the inscription60 of the rolling title and the prospect61 of the elevated eyebrows62 of the bank clerk who should debit63 the sum to his account.
“That’s exceedingly generous of you, Mr. Pillivant,” said Lord Beldon, putting the cheque into a drawer of his writing-table.
“Just patriotic, your lordship,” replied Pillivant, with a profiteering wave of the hand.
“I think,” said Baltazar, “that the contributor of such an important sum ought to be offered some practical interest in the scheme. Mr. Pillivant’s name will appear on the General Committee. But that’s more or less honorary. The sub-committees will do the real business. We’re going to deal with every phase of the war, Pillivant, and the various sub-committees—their names will be published large as life and twice as natural—will supply the editorial department with indisputable facts. Now,” he turned to Lord Beldon, “if Mr. Pillivant will serve on the Purity of Contracts Sub-Committee, he’ll be bringing us a tremendous and invaluable64 business experience.”
“That’s a most happy suggestion,” smiled Lord Beldon.
“I think so, too. I’ll get a run for my money,” said Pillivant.
When he had gone, Lord Beldon turned a puzzled brow on Baltazar.
“Isn’t that the chap about whom some nasty things were said a few months ago?”
Baltazar grinned. “It is,” said he. “We’ve made him disgorge some of his ill-gotten gains, and, by putting him on the sub-committee we’ll make him pretty careful about getting them ill in the future.”
Thus, with ruthless pertinacity65 he gathered in a great sum of money, and finally in a splendour of publicity66 the first number of The New Universe appeared, and from the first day of its appearance Baltazar felt himself to be a power in the land.
Another reputation in certain circles had meanwhile been made by his trenchant67 article on Chinese affairs in the Imperial Review. It led to an interview with the Chinese Ambassador, who professed68 agreeable astonishment69 at finding the famous but somewhat mysterious Anglo-Chinaman of Chen-Chow and the writer of the article one and the same person. After which he spent many pleasant hours at the Embassy, discussing Chinese art and philosophy and the prospects70 of the career of his prodigious71 pupil, Quong Ho. In course of time, the Foreign Office discreetly72 beckoned73 to him. It had heard from authoritative74 sources—it smiled—that Mr. Baltazar’s knowledge of China was unique, for though many other men were intimately acquainted with the country from the point of view of the official, the missionary75, the merchant and the traveller, it had never heard of a man of his attainments76 who had divorced himself from all European influence and had attained78 a high position in the social and political life of non-cosmopolitan China. If Mr. Baltazar would from time to time put his esoteric knowledge at the service of the Foreign Office, the Foreign Office would be grateful. At last, after various interviews with various high personages, for all this was not conveyed to him in a quarter of an hour, it not being the way of the Foreign Office to fall on a stranger’s neck and open its heart to him, he received a proposal practically identical with Weatherley’s suggestion which he had so furiously flouted79. The Secret Service—the Intelligence Department—had been crying out for years for a man like him, who should go among the Chinese as a Chinaman, thoroughly80 in their confidence. “A spy?” asked Baltazar bluntly. The Foreign Office smiled a bland81 smile and held out deprecating fingers. Of course not. An agent, acting82 for the Allies, counteracting83 German influence, working in his own way, responsible to no one but the Powers at Whitehall, but yet, with necessary secrecy84, towards China’s longed-for Declaration of War against Germany.
“China will come in on our side before the year’s out,” said Baltazar.
How did he know it? Why, it was obvious to any student of the science of political forces. It was as supererogatory for a man to go out to China to persuade her to join the Allies as to stir up a bomb whose fuse was alight, in order to make it explode. The Foreign Office protested against argument by analogy. The forthcoming entry of China into the war was naturally not hidden from its omniscience85. But that did not lessen86 the vital need of secret and skilful87 propaganda before, during and after the period that China might be at war. There were the eternal German ramifications88 to be watched; the possible Japanese influences—it spoke89 under the seal of the most absolute confidence—which, without any thought of disloyalty on the part of Japan, might, not accord with Western interests; there were also the bewildering cross-currents of internal Chinese politics. There were thousands of phases of invaluable information which could not be viewed by the Embassy; thousands of strings to be pulled which could not be pulled from Pekin. “We could not, like Germany and Austria in America, outrage90 those international principles upon which the ambassadorial system had been based for centuries. At the same time——”
“You’re not above using a spy,” said Baltazar.
Again the Foreign Office deprecated the suggestion. It wouldn’t dream of asking Mr. Baltazar to take such a position.
“Then,” said Baltazar, “what are you driving at?”
The Foreign Office looked at him rather puzzled. As a matter of fact, it did not quite know. Having Baltazar’s dossier pretty completely before it, it had gradually been compelled to the recognition of Baltazar as a man of supreme91 importance in Chinese affairs. He must be used somehow, but on the way to use him it was characteristically vague and hesitating. It knew a lot about the Ming Dynasty being a connoisseur92 in porcelain—but the Ming Dynasty, and all that it connoted, had come to an end a devil of a long time ago; which was a pity, for it only knew the little about Modern China which it gleaned93 from the epigrammatic and uninspired précis of official reports. To attach Baltazar in any way to the Embassy was out of the question. The idea would have sent a shiver down its spine94 to the very last vertebra of the most ancient messenger whose father had run on devious95 errands for Lord Palmerston. On the other hand, Baltazar was not of the type which could be sent out on a secret errand. That fact he had made almost brutally96 obvious. So, after looking at him for a puzzled second or two, it smiled invitingly97. Really, it waited for him to make a proposition.
This he did.
“Offer me a square and above-board mission as the duly accredited98 agent of the British Government—to perform whatever duties you prescribe for me, and I’ll consider it. At any rate, I’ll regard the offer as an honour. But to go back to my friends as Chi Wu Ting——”
“Ah!” interrupted the Foreign Office, turning over a page or two of type-script. “That’s interesting. We wanted to ask you. How did you get that name in China? You started there, after your abandonment of your brilliant Cambridge career—you see we know all about you, Mr. Baltazar—as James Burden.”
“Phonetic,” said Baltazar, impatiently. “It’s as impossible for an ordinary Chinaman to say James Burden, as for you to pronounce a word with the Zulu click in it. It’s the nearest they could get. It’s good Chinese. So I adopted it. I’m known by it all through Southern China. Let me get on with what I was saying. To go back to my friends as Chi Wu Ting and pretend I was acting in their interests, while all the time I was acting in the interests of the British Government—well, I’m damned if I would entertain the idea for a second.”
“But if Chi Wu Ting goes back, as you say, accredited——?”
“That’s a different matter altogether.”
“There’s still the question of—of remuneration,” said the Foreign Office.
“I’m by way of being a rich man,” said Baltazar. “I didn’t spend the eighteen golden years of my life in the interior of China for my health.”
The Foreign Office beamed. “That simplifies things enormously.”
“It generally does,” replied Baltazar.
A month later the Foreign Office made him the offer which his sense of personal dignity demanded from them; and, honour being satisfied, he declined it. He could do better work for his country in London, said he, than in again burying himself alive for an indefinite number of years in China. The Foreign Office regretted his decision; but it gave him to understand that the offer would always remain open. They parted on terms of the most cordial politeness; but if the Foreign Office had heard the things Baltazar said of it, its upstanding hair would have raised its own roof off.
“Three months,” he cried to Marcelle, “playing the fool, wasting their time and mine, when the whole thing could have been done in five minutes.”
“But I can’t quite see,” she objected, “why you went on when you had made up your mind from the start not to go back to China.”
“Can’t you?” said he. “I’ll explain. I’ve sworn that there’ll be no more idiocy100 on the part of John Baltazar to prevent him coming into his own. He is coming into it. That the F.O. should recognize his position was an essential factor of his own. When a man can dictate101 terms, he has established himself. See? I suppose,” said he, halting in his abrupt102 way, and thrusting his hands deep in his trousers pockets, “you think this is just childish vanity. Come, say it.”
She met his bright eyes and smiled up at him. “If I do, you won’t bite my head off?”
“No. I’ll convince you that it isn’t. Vanity, as its name implies, is emptiness. Negative. This isn’t vanity, it’s Pride. Something positive. My pet Deadly Sin. If you’ve got that strong, you can tell the six others to go back to hell. If I hadn’t got it, the others would have torn me to bits long ago. If I were a mongrel and thought myself a prize bull-pup—that would be vanity. But I know, hang it all, that I’m a prize bull-pup, and when I take leave to remind myself, and people like the F.O. of the fact, that’s Pride. And when I say I’ve sworn to fulfil the Destiny of the prize pup, John Baltazar, and be one of the intellectual forces that’ll carry the Empire along to Victory—that’s not vanity. Where’s the emptiness? It’s Pride—reckoned first of the Seven Deadly Sins. If I glory in it—well—according to the Theologians, it’s my damnation: according to me, it’s the other way about. Look. There’s another way of putting it——”
Suddenly she was smitten103 with the memory of Godfrey’s words five or six months ago, when he fumed104 at the bear-leading of Quong Ho—“Those infernal dancing eyes of his—and behind them something so pathetic and appealing.” The boy was right. She met just that pathetic appeal. He was so anxious to put himself right with her. He went on:
“If I were in the habit of vowing105 to perform impossible extravagances, that would be the sign of a vain man. But—apart from the Acts of God—and I suppose technically106 we must classify the wiping out of my life’s work under that heading—I have carried out every wild-cat scheme I’ve deliberately107 set my mind to. So when I say I’m coming into John Baltazar’s own, I know what I’m talking about, and that’s the sign of a proud man. And, my dear,” said he after a pause, occupied in filling and lighting108 his pipe, “I think this jolly old sin of mine keeps me from making an ass11 of myself in all sorts of other ways.”
Swiftly she applied109 these last words to the relations between them and confessed their truth. A vain man would have pestered110 the life out of her, confident in attaining111 his ends—ends as beautiful and spiritual as you please—until through sheer weariness she yielded. Such a one would enunciate112 and firmly believe in the proposition—she had not spent twenty years among men in angelic ignorance of their idiosyncrasies—that just hammer, hammer hard enough, and a woman will be bound to love you in the end. But there were others, with a deadly, sinful pride like Baltazar, who, scorning the vain, maintained the dignified113 attitude of the late lamented114 King Canute. He would not claim the impossible.
But this was a far cry from the Imperial Government Mission to the Far East. She asked, by way of escape from personal argument:
“After all, this Chinese proposition is a first-rate thing. Is it so very repugnant to you to go back?”
“My dear,” said he, “you talked last year some silly rot about a locust116. I know the beast better than you do. It ate all those precious years I spent in that infernal country. The best years of my life. I’m starting now at fifty-one where I ought to have started at thirty. That damned Chinese locust has robbed me of everything. You, Godfrey, the vital life of England, and a brilliant career with Heaven knows what kind of power for good. I hold the country in the most deadly detestation. Nothing in this wide world would induce me to go back—not even if they wanted to make me an Emperor. I’ve finished with it for ever and ever. I swear it.”
“You needn’t look as if I were urging you to it,” she laughed. “I’m sure I don’t want to lose you.”
“All right then,” said Baltazar. “Let us talk of something else.”
In these early months of struggle to enter his kingdom, Baltazar came nearer happiness than he had ever done before. A man younger, or more habitually117 dependent on women, would have counted the one thing wanting as the one prime essential and would have regarded everything else as naught118. But Baltazar, although wistfully recognizing the one missing element, was far too full of the lust14 of others to sit down and make moan. Marcelle gave him all she could, a devoted119 friendship, a tender intimacy120, a sympathetic understanding. He wanted infinitely121 more, his man’s nature clamoured for the whole of her. But what she gave was of enormous comfort. It was a question of taking it or leaving it. Perhaps had his love been less, he would have left it. Love me all in all or not at all, and be hanged to you! That might have been his attitude. Besides, he knew that by the high-handed proceeding122 of the primitive123 man he could at any moment carry her off to the cave in Sussex Gardens. In a way, it was his own choice to live celibate124. Sooner accept the graciousness she could give freely than take by force what she would yield grudgingly125. Let him be happy with what he had.
For he had much.
Godfrey, learning to walk on his artificial foot, a miracle of running contrivance, and allowed, as it seemed, almost indefinite leave until he should reach perfection of movement, took up his quarters in his house, at first almost angrily, compelled against his will by the infernal dancing eyes and the pathetic appeal behind them, and after a short while very contentedly126, appreciating his strange father’s almost womanly solicitude127 for his comfort, his facilities for leading his own young man’s life. Far more attractive the well-appointed house, with a snuggery of his own made over for him to have and to hold in perpetuity, with a table always spread for any friends he cared to ask to lunch or dine, with an alert intellect for companion ever ready to give of its best, with opportunities of meeting the odd, fascinating personalities128 whom the editor of The New Universe had gathered round him, with an atmosphere of home all the more pleasant because of its unfamiliarity129, than the bleak130 room at an over-crowded hotel, or the cramped131 Half Moon Street lodgings132 which in his boyish experience were the inevitable134 condition of a lonely young man’s existence in London. Once he said:
“I know it’s a delicate point, sir, but I should be awfully135 glad if you’d let me contribute—pay my way, you know. It’s really embarrassing for me to accept all this—I can’t explain—it’s horrid136. But I do wish you would let me, sir.”
This was just after breakfast one morning. Baltazar paused in the act of filling his pipe.
“If you like, my boy,” said he, “we can discuss the matter with our housekeeper, Mrs. Simmons, and agree upon a weekly sum for your board and lodging133. I know that you have independent means and can pay anything in reason. Rather than not have you here, I should agree to such an arrangement.”
“It would make me feel easier in my mind, sir,” said Godfrey. “Shall we have her in now and get the thing over?”
“Not yet,” said Baltazar. “There’s another side of the question. By accepting your father’s house as your natural home, you are giving a very human, though faulty being, the very greatest happiness he has ever known in his life. By refusing, you would destroy something that there is no power in the wide world to replace. I don’t deserve any gratitude137 for being your father; but, after all, you’re my son—and I’m very proud of it. And all I have, not only in my house but in my heart, is yours.” He lit a match. “Just yours,” said he, and the breath of the words blew the match out.
When Godfrey next met Marcelle, he told her of this.
Another thing that added greatly to Baltazar’s happiness was Godfrey’s attitude towards Quong Ho during the vacations, when the young Chinaman was also a member of the household.
“I like the beggar,” said Godfrey. “He’s so tactful; always on tap when one wants him, and never in the way when one doesn’t. And his learning would sink a ship.”
Quong Ho, for his part, sat at the feet of the young English officer and with pathetic earnestness studied him as a model of English vernacular139 and deportment, and at the same time sucked in from him the whole theory of the art of modern warfare140. He had a genius for assimilating knowledge. With the amused aid of Lady Edna Donnithorpe and Burke, he acquired prodigious familiarity with the inter-relationships of the great English families. At Baltazar’s dinner-table he absorbed modern political thought like a sponge. It was during the Easter vacation that he more especially determined141 to assume the perfect Englishman. Dr. Sheepshanks, towards the end of term, had made him an astonishing proposition. A mathematician142 of his calibre, said he, would be wasted in China. Why should Mr. Ho not contemplate143, as Fellow and Professor, identification of himself with Cambridge? The war had swept away all possible contemporary rivals. It was in his power to attain77 in a few years not only a brilliant position in the University, but in the European world of pure science. Sheepshanks had also written in the same strain to Baltazar. And when Quong Ho modestly sought his master’s advice, Baltazar vehemently144 supported Sheepshanks.
“Of course you’ll stay. Weren’t those my very words at the hospital at Water End? Another time perhaps you’ll believe me.”
“For many years have I been convinced of the infallibility of your judgment,” said Quong Ho. “I shall also never forget,” he added, “that I am merely the clay which you have moulded.”
“I’m beginning to think,” cried Baltazar, “that I’m not your friend Dr. Rewsby’s colossal145 ass after all.”
Baltazar was happy. He went about shouldering his way through the amazing war-world, secure in his grip on all that mattered to him in life. His was a name that, once heard, stuck in men’s memory. Gradually it became vaguely familiar to the general public, well known to an expanding circle. His romantic story, at first to his furious indignation, was paragraphed far and wide. The Athen?um, under special rule, reinstated him in his membership. The intransigent policy of The New Universe brought him into personal contact with the High and Mighty146 at the heads of Ministries147. Invitations to speak by all manners of organizations poured in. As a speaker his dominating personality found its supreme expression. He exalted148 in his newly found strength. The essential man of action had been trammelled for half a century by the robe of the scholar. The Zeppelin bomb had set him naked.
Said Pillivant, meeting him in the offices of The New Universe: “A year ago you didn’t know there was a war on. I took you for the ruddiest freak I had ever come across. Now you’ve blossomed out into a ruddy swell149, bossing everything. I can’t open a newspaper without seeing your name. How the hell have you managed to do it?”
“Profiteering,” said Baltazar.
“Brains,” said Baltazar.
He turned away delighted. Well, it came to that. There was no arrogance151 about it. He was giving everything in his power to the country. Oppressed, at one time, by the sense of physical fitness, and fired by the sudden, urgent demand for man-power, he had, in one of his Gordian-knot cutting moods, marched into a recruiting office and vaunted his brawn152 and muscle. “I’m fifty,” said he, “but I defy anybody to say I’m not physically153 equal to any boy of twenty-five.” But they had politely laughed at him and sent him away raging furiously. It was then that he followed the despised counsel of the unimaginative Burtenshaw, K.C., and joined the Special Constabulary and the National Volunteers.
“What’s the next thing you’re going to take on?” asked Marcelle.
“First, my dear,” said he, “the whole running of this war. Then the administration of the Kingdom of God on Earth.”
“What a boy you are!” she laughed.
“A damned fine boy,” said Baltazar.
One fine Sunday in May she came up to town to lunch with him alone, Godfrey being away somewhere or other for the week-end.
“My dear,” he cried, excitedly, as soon as she arrived, “I’ve been dying to see you. It’s going to happen.”
“What?”
She smiled into his eager face. There was nothing so extravagant that it could not happen to Baltazar.
“Well?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“You—Minister?”
He nodded. “It’s all in the clouds at present. At least these whifflers of Cloud-Cuckoo-City think it is. But I don’t. They don’t see the Star of John Baltazar in the ascendant. I do. My dear, there’s not an adverse156 influence in all the bag of planetary tricks!”
If he could have seen and appreciated what was happening some forty miles off he might have observed in a certain conjunction of planets, to wit, Venus and Mars, something that would have modified his optimistic prognostication.
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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2
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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3
usurping
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的现在分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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4
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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5
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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6
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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7
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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8
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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9
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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10
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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11
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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12
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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13
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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14
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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15
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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16
venerated
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| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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18
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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19
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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20
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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21
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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22
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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23
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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24
buffeting
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| 振动 | |
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25
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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26
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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28
patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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29
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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30
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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31
fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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32
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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33
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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34
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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35
denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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36
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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37
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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39
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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40
envisaged
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| 想像，设想( envisage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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42
journalism
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| n.新闻工作，报业 | |
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43
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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44
unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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45
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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46
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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47
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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48
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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49
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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50
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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51
galaxy
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| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
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52
patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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53
subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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54
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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55
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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56
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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57
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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58
payable
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| adj.可付的，应付的，有利益的 | |
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59
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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60
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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61
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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62
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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63
debit
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| n.借方，借项，记人借方的款项 | |
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64
invaluable
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| adj.无价的，非常宝贵的，极为贵重的 | |
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65
pertinacity
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| n.执拗，顽固 | |
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66
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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67
trenchant
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| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
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68
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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69
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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70
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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71
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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72
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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73
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
authoritative
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| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
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75
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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76
attainments
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| 成就，造诣； 获得( attainment的名词复数 )； 达到； 造诣； 成就 | |
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77
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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78
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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79
flouted
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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81
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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82
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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83
counteracting
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| 对抗，抵消( counteract的现在分词 ) | |
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84
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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85
omniscience
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| n.全知，全知者，上帝 | |
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86
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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87
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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88
ramifications
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| n.结果，后果( ramification的名词复数 ) | |
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89
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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90
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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91
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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92
connoisseur
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| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
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93
gleaned
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| v.一点点地收集（资料、事实）( glean的过去式和过去分词 )；（收割后）拾穗 | |
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94
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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95
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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96
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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97
invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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98
accredited
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| adj.可接受的；可信任的；公认的；质量合格的v.相信( accredit的过去式和过去分词 )；委托；委任；把…归结于 | |
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99
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
idiocy
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| n.愚蠢 | |
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101
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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102
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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103
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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104
fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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105
vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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106
technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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107
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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108
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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109
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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110
pestered
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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112
enunciate
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| v.发音；（清楚地）表达 | |
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113
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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114
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
locust
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| n.蝗虫；洋槐，刺槐 | |
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117
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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118
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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119
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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120
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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121
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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122
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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123
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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124
celibate
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| adj.独身的，独身主义的；n.独身者 | |
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125
grudgingly
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126
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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127
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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128
personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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129
unfamiliarity
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130
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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131
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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132
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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133
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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134
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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grovel
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| vi.卑躬屈膝，奴颜婢膝 | |
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vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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142
mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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143
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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ministries
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| （政府的）部( ministry的名词复数 )； 神职； 牧师职位； 神职任期 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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150
puckering
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 )；小褶纹；小褶皱 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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152
brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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153
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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154
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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155
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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