PAGE 10
The Looker-On
by
Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation of his and Molly’s defection.
Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher.
“Come and have a single on the asphalt court!” he said. “I haven’t tried it yet. I want to.”
Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion.
They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his friend’s shoulders.
“I am to congratulate, I suppose?” he asked, as they crossed the garden to the tennis-court.
Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
“You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy,” he said.
“Ah, that’s good!” said Charlie. “You’re a jolly good fellow, old chap. You’ll make her awfully happy.”
“I shall do my best,” Fisher said.
Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look did not pass entirely from Fisher’s face. He seemed to be watching for something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play.
Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day.
At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie.
“I can’t stuff over a fire all the afternoon,” he said. “But the light is getting bad, isn’t it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you two going for a walk? We’ll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?”
He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the other’s racquet.
Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation.
“Why, Charlie,” she ejaculated, “what have you done to your arm? What is the matter with it?”
Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve hastily.
“An old wound,” he said, with a shame-faced laugh.
She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations.
“No, tell me!” she said. “What is it–really? How was it done?”
“You will never get him to tell you that,” laughed Bertie Richmond. “You had better ask Fisher.”
“Oh, rats!” cried Charlie vehemently. “Fisher, I’ll break your head with this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun sets. Let’s go and—-“
“I’ll tell you, Molly,” broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie’s to keep him quiet. “He can’t break his host’s head, you know. It’s a scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the Andover one night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, Fisher! He’s getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, Molly. You told me so.”
“Oh, I didn’t know–this!” the girl said. “How could I? I never guessed–this!”
Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to wrest himself free.
“You infernal idiots!” he exclaimed violently. “Fisher, if you interfere with me any more I–I’ll punch your head! Bertie, don’t be such a fool!”
He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly.
“You can’t always hide your light, my dear fellow,” he observed. “If you will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of being occasionally found out.”
“Silly ass!” commented Bertie. “Anyone would think that to save a few hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on–a chap who ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one,” he ended, thrusting an arm through Charlie’s, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned once more towards them.