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The Secret Agent

Chapter 11

Section 11

He had no doubt that everything needful had been done. Chief Inspector Heat knew, of course, thoroughly the business of man-hunt- ing. And these were the routine steps, too, that would be taken as a matter of course by the merest beginner. A few inquiries amongst the ticket collectors and the porters of the two small railway stations would give additional details as to the appearance of the two men ; the inspection of the collected tickets would show at once where they came from that morn- ing. It was elementary, and could not have been neglected.' Accordingly the Chief In- spector answered that all this had been done directly the old woman had come forward with her deposition. And he mentioned the name of a station. " That's where they came from, sir/' he went on. " The porter who took the tickets at Maze Hill remembers two chaps an- swering to the description passing the barrier. They seemed to him two respectable working men of a superior sort sign painters or house decorators. The big man got out of a third- class compartment backward, with a bright tin can in his hand. On the platform he gave it to carry to the fair young fellow who followed him. All this agrees exactly with what the old woman told the police sergeant in Greenwich,"
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The Assistant Commissioner, still with his face turned to the window, expressed his doubt as to these two men having had anything to do with the outrage. All this theory rested upon the utterances of an old charwoman who had been nearly knocked down by a man in a hurry. Not a very substantial authority indeed, unless on the ground of sudden inspiration, which was hardly tenable.
" Frankly now, could she have been really inspired ?" he queried, with grave irony, keeping his back to the room, as if entranced by the contemplation of the town's colossal forms half lost in the night He did not even look round when he heard the mutter of the word " Provi- dential " from the principal subordinate of his department, whose name, printed sometimes in the papers, was familiar to the great public as that of one of its zealous and hard-working protectors. Chief Inspector Heat raised his voice a little.
" Strips and bits of bright tin were quite visible to me," he said. " That's a pretty good corroboration."
" And these men came from that little country station," the Assistant Commissioner mused aloud, wondering. He was told that such was the name on two tickets out of three given up
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out of that train at Maze Hill. The third person who got out was a hawker from Gravesend well known to the porters. The Chief Inspec- tor imparted that information in a tone of finality with some ill humour, as loyal servants will do in the consciousness of their fidelity and with the sense of the value of their loyal exer- tions. And still the Assistant Commissioner did not turn away from the darkness outside, as vast as a sea.
"Two foreign anarchists coming from that place," he said, apparently to the window-pane. "It's rather unaccountable."
"Yes, sir. But it would be still more un- accountable if that Michaelis weren't staying in a cottage in the neighbourhood."
At the sound ot that name, falling unex- pectedly into this annoying affair, the Assistant Commissioner dismissed brusquely the vague remembrance of his daily whist party at his club. It was the most comforting habit of his life, in a mainly successful display of his skill without the assistance of any subordinate. He entered his club to play from five to seven, before going home to dinner, forgetting for those two hours whatever was distasteful in his life, as though the game were a beneficent drug for allaying the pangs of moral discontent.
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His partners were the gloomily humorous editor of a celebrated magazine ; a silent, elderly barrister with malicious little eyes; and a highly martial, simple-minded old Colonel with nervous brown hands. They were his club acquaint- ances merely. He never met them elsewhere except at the card-table. But they all seemed to approach the game in the spirit of co-sufferers, as if it were indeed a drug against the secret ills of existence ; and every day as the sun declined over the countless roofs of the town, a mellow, pleasurable impatience, resembling the impulse of a sure and profound friendship, lightened his professional labours. And now this pleasurable sensation went out of him with something resembling a physical shock, and was replaced by a special kind of interest in his work of social protection an improper sort of interest, which may be defined best as a sudden and alert mibtrvist of the weapon in his hand
VI
/ TpHE lady patroness of Michaelis, the ticket- ^ of-leave apostle of humanitarian hopes, was one of the most influential and distinguished con- nections of the Assistant Commissioner's wife, whom she called Annie, and treated still rather as a not very wise and utterly inexperi- enced young girl. But she had consented to accept him on a friendly footing, which was by no means the case with all of his wife's in- fluential connections. Married young and splendidly at some remote epoch of the past, she had had for a time a close view of great affairs and even of some great men. She herself was a great lady. Old now in the number of her years, she had that sort of exceptional tempera- ment which defies time with scornful disregard, as if it were a rather vulgar convention sub- mitted to by the mass of inferior mankind. Many other conventions easier to set aside, alas! failed to obtain her recognition, also on temperamental grounds Cither because they bored her, or else because they stood in the way of her scorns and sympathies. Admiration was
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a sentiment unknown to her (it was one of the secret griefs of her most noble husband against her) first, as always more or less tainted with mediocrity, and next as being in a way an ad- mission of inferiority. And both were frankly inconceivable to her nature. To be fearlessly outspoken in her opinions came easily to her, since she judged solely from the standpoint of her social position. She was equally untram- melled in her actions ; and as her tactfulness proceeded from genuine humanity, her bodily vigour remained remarkable and her superiority was serene and cordial, three generations had admired her infinitely, and the last she was likely to see had pronounced her a wonderful woman. Meantime intelligent, with a sort of lofty simplicity, and curious at heart, but not like many women merely of social gossip, she amused her age by attracting within her ken through the power of her great, almost historical, social prestige everything that rose above the dead level of mankind, lawfully or unlawfully, by position, wit, audacity, fortune or misfortune. Royal Highnesses, artists, men of science, young statesmen, and charlatans of all ages and conditions, who, unsubstantial and light, bobbing up like corks, show best the direction of the surface currents, had been welcomed in that
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house, listened to, penetrated, understood, appraised, for her own edification. In her own words, she liked to watch what the world was coming to. And as she had a practical mind her judgment of men and things, though based on special prejudices, was seldom totally wrong, and almost never wrong-headed. Her draw- ing-room was probably the only place in the wide world where an Assistant Commissioner of Police could meet a convict liberated on a ticket-of-leave on other than professional and official ground. Who had brought Michaelis there one afternoon the Assistant Commissioner did not remember very well. He had a notion it must have been a certain Member of Parlia- ment of illustrious parentage and unconven- tional sympathies, which were the standing joke of the comic papers. The notabilities and even the simple notorieties of the day brought each other freely to that temple of an old woman's not ignoble curiosity. You never could guess whom you were likely to come upon being received in semi-privacy within the faded blue silk and gilt frame screen, making a cosy nook for a couch and a few arm-chairs in the great drawing-room, with its hum of voices and the groups of people seated or standing in the light of six tall windows.
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Michaelis had been the object of a revulsion of popular sentiment, the same sentiment which years ago had applauded the ferocity of the life sentence passed upon him for complicity in a rather mad attempt to rescue some prisoners from a police van. The plan of the con- spirators had been to shoot down the horses and overpower the escort Unfortunately, one of the police constables got shot too. He left a wife and three small children, and the death of that man aroused through the length and breadth of a realm for whose defence, welfare, and glory me i die every day as matter of duty, an outburst of furious indignation, of a raging implacable pity for the victim. Three ring- leaders got hanged. Michaelis, young and slim, locksmith by trade, and great frequenter of even- ing schools, did not even know that anybody had been killed, his part with a few others being to force open the door at the back of the special conveyance. When arrested he had a bunch of skeleton keys in one pocket a heavy chisel in another, and a short crowbar in his hand: neither more nor less than a burglar. But no burglar would have received such a heavy sentence. The death of the constable had made him miser- able at heart, but the failure of the plot also. He did not conceal either of these sentiments
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from his empanelled countrymen, and that sort of compunction appeared shockingly imperfect to the crammed court. The judge on passing sentence commented feelingly upon the de- pravity and callousness of the young prisoner.
That made the groundless fame of his con- demnation ; the fame of his release was made for him on no better grounds by people who wished to exploit the sentimental aspect of his imprisonment either for purposes of their own or for no intelligible purpose. He let them do so in the innocence of his heart and the simplicity of his mind. Nothing that happened to him individually had any importance. He was like those saintly men whose personality is lost in the contemplation of their faith. His ideas were not in the nature of convictions. They were inaccessible to reasoning. They formed in all their contradictions and obscuri- ties an invincible and humanitarian creed, which he confessed rather than preached, with an obstinate gentleness, a smile of pacific assurance on his lips, and his candid blue eyes cast down because the sight of faces troubled his inspira- tion developed in solitude. In that character- istic attitude, pathetic in his grotesque and incurable obesity which he had to drag like a galley slave's bullet to the end of his days, the
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Assistant Commissioner of Police beheld the ticket-of-leave apostle filling a privileged arm- chair within the screen. He sat there by the head of the old lady's couch, mild-voiced and quiet, with no more self-consciousness than a very small child, and with something of a child's charm the appealing charm of trustfulness. Confident of the future, whose secret ways had been revealed to him within the four walls of a well-known penitentiary, he had no reason to look with suspicion upon anybody. If he could not give the grfcat and curious lady a very definite idea as to what the world was coming to, he had managed without effort to impress her by his unembittered faith, by the sterling quality of his optimism.
A certain simplicity of thought is common to serene souls at both ends of the social scale. The great lady was simple in her own way. His views and beliefs had nothing in them to shock or startle her, since she judged them from the standpoint of her lofty position. Indeed, her sympathies were easily accessible to a man of that sort. She was not an exploiting capitalist herself; she was, as it were, above the play of economic conditions. And she had a great capacity of pity for the more obvious forms of common human miseries, precisely because she was such
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a complete stranger to them that she had to translate her conception into terms of mental suffering before she could grasp the notion of their cruelty. The Assistant Commissioner remembered very well the conversation between these two. He had listened in silence. It was something as exciting in a way, and even touch- ing in its foredoomed futility, as the efforts at moral intercourse between the inhabitants of remote planets. But this grotesque incarna- tion of humanitarian passion appealed somehow, to one's imagination. At last Michaelis rose, and taking the great lady's extended hand, shook it, retained it for a moment in his great cushioned palm with unembarrassed friendliness, and turned upon the semi-private nook of the drawing-room his back, vast and square, and as if distended under the short tweed jacket Glancing about in serene benevolence, he waddled along to the distant door between the knots of other visitors. The murmur of con- versations paused on his passage. He smiled innocently at a tall, brilliant girl, whose eyes met his accidentally, and went out unconscious of the glances following him across the room. Michaelis' first appearance in the world was a success a success of esteem unmarred by a single murmur of derision. The interrupted
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conversations were resumed in their proper tone, grave or light Only a well-set-up, long- limbed, active-looking man of forty talking with two ladies near a window remarked aloud, with an unexpected depth of feeling : " Eighteen stone, I should say, and not five foot six. Poor fellow ! It's terrible terrible."
The lady of the house, gazing absently at the Assistant Commissioner, left alone with her on the private side of the screen, seemed to be rearranging her mental impressions behind her thoughtful immobility of a handsome old face. Men with grey moustaches and full, healthy, vaguely smiling countenances approached, circ- ling round the screen ; two mature women with a matronly air of gracious resolution ; a clean- shaved individual with sunken cheeks, and dangling a gold-mounted eyeglass on a broad black ribbon with an old-world, dandified effect. A silence deferential, but full of reserves, reigned for a moment, and then the great lady exclaimed, not with resentment, but with a sort of protest- ing indignation :
" And that officially is supposed to be a revolutionist! What nonsense." She looked hard at the Assistant Commissioner, who mur- mured apologetically :
" Not a dangerous one perhaps."
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" Not dangerous I should think not indeed. He is a mere believer. It's the temperament of a saint," declared the great lady in a firm tone. " And they kept him shut up for twenty years. One shudders at the stupidity of it. And now they have let him out everybody belonging to him is gone away somewhere or dead. His parents are dead ; the girl he was to marry has died while he was in prison ; he has lost the skill necessary for his manual occupation. He told me all this himself with the sweetest patience ; but then, he said, he had had' plenty of time to think out things for himself. A pretty compensation ! If that's the stuff revolutionists are made of some of us may well go on their knees to them," she continued in a slightly bantering voice, while the banal society smiles hardened on the worldly faces turned towards her with conventional deference. " The poor creature is obviously no longer in a position to take care of himself. Somebody will have to look after him a little. "
"He should be recommended to follow a treatment of some sort," the soldierly voice of the active-looking man was heard advising earnestly from a distance. He was in the pink of condition for his age, and even the texture
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of his long frock eoat had a character of elastic soundness, as if it were a living tissue. " The man is virtually a cripple," he added with un- mistakable feeling.
Other voices, as if glad of the opening, murmured hasty compassion. " Quite start- ling," "Monstrous," "Most painful to see." The lank man, with the eyeglass on a broad ribbon, pronounced mincingly the word " Grotesque," whose justness was appreciated by those standing near him. They smiled at each other.
The Assistant Commissioner had expressed no opinion either then or later, his position making it impossible for him to ventilate any independent view of a ticket-of-leave convict. But, in truth, he shared the view of his wife's friend and patron that Michaelis was a humani- tarian sentimentalist, a little mad, but upon the whole incapable of hurting a fly intentionally. So when that name cropped up suddenly in this vexing bomb affair he realised all the danger of it for the ticket-of-leave apostle, and his mind reverted at once to the old lady's well-estab- lished infatuation. Her arbitrary kindness would not brook patiently any interference with Michaelis' freedom. It was a deep, calm, con- vinced infatuation. She had not only felt him
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to be inoffensive, but she had said so, which last by a confusion of her absolutist mind be- came a sort of incontrovertible demonstration. It was as if the monstrosity of the man, with his candid infant's eyes and a fat angelic smile, had fascinated her. She had come to believe almost his theory of the future, since it was not repugnant to her prejudices. She disliked the new element of plutocracy in the social compound, and industrialism as a method of human development appeared to her singularly repulsive in its mechanical and unfeeling char- acter. The humanitarian hopes of the mild Michaelis tended not towards utter destruction, but merely towards the complete economic ruin of the system. And she did not really see where was the moral harm of it. It would do away with all the multitude of the "parvenus," whom she disliked and mistrusted, not because they had arrived anywhere (she denied that), but because of their profound unintelligence of the world, which was the primary cause of the crudity of their perceptions and the aridity of their hearts. With the annihilation of all capital they would vanish too ; but universal ruin (providing it was universal, as it was revealed to Michaelis) would leave the social values untouched. The disappearance of the last piece of money could