Marjorie Benton Cooke
 
 
 7 * Q 

 
 THE CLUTCH OF 
 CIRCUMSTANCE 
 
 MARJORIE BENTON COOKE
 
 THE CLUTCH OF 
 CIRCUMSTANCE 
 
 BY 
 MARJORIE BENTON COOKE 
 
 ACTHOH OF "BAMBI," ETC. 
 
 D 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1918, 
 By George H. Doran Company 
 
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 J 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 LADY ROBERTA TRASK, called Lady Bobs. 
 
 LADY CECILY HARRISON, Lady Trask's best friend. 
 
 THE HONORABLE MILDRED DOWNER. 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF WROWE. 
 
 LORD ASHTON TRASK. 
 
 CAPTAIN LARRY OTooLE. 
 
 TED CARTER, American boy in English Flying Corps. 
 
 LORD KENDRICK, of the War Council. 
 
 LIEUTENANT IVAN INSULL, of the English Secret Service.
 
 PART ONE
 
 INVICTUS 
 
 In the fell clutch of circumstance 
 I have not winced or cried aloud, 
 Under the bludgeonings of chance 
 My head is bloody, but unbowed. 
 
 WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY.
 
 THE CLUTCH 
 OF CIRCUMSTANCE 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "Is Lady Trask at home, Brooks?" Sir Ash- 
 ton Trask inquired of the butler as he en- 
 tered his own drawing room. 
 
 "Yes, Sir Ashton, Lady Trask is in, I be- 
 lieve, sir." 
 
 "Send her word that I am here, please." 
 
 The servant withdrew, and Sir Ashton took 
 a few turns up and down the room, nervously 
 engrossed in his own thoughts. 
 
 At the sound of Lady Trask's entrance, he 
 turned and watched her come toward him, 
 across the long room. She was tall and gra- 
 cious and beautiful. She moved with a large 
 slow dignity, which always delighted him. She 
 wore a deep toned velvet gown befitting a prin- 
 
 9
 
 10 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 cess, and smiled her welcome. Lady Trask's 
 smile was famous. 
 
 Sir Ash ton held a hand to her, and she laid 
 her own in it, but her thoughts were not with 
 him, she was intent on something else. 
 
 "Why didn't you bring him with you?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "He was busy at the War Office when I left. 
 He is coming along presently." 
 
 "He may change his mind 
 
 "Oh no. I hope you haven't asked people to 
 lunch," he added with quick suspicion. 
 
 "One or two." 
 
 "Roberta, not a party!" 
 
 "No. Cecily, Mildred Downer, Ted and 
 Larry. That's all." 
 
 "He certainly would bolt it, if he thought 
 it was a party. He hates them, you know." 
 
 "The man is the supreme egotist of the 
 world!" smiled Lady Bobs, as she was known 
 to her familiars. "You would think he con- 
 ferred eternal distinction upon us, and our 
 house forever, by breaking bread with us." 
 
 "I merely asked him to drop in for lunch." 
 
 "Stop bothering. If he objects to some 
 amusing women and two nice men, he can 
 depart."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 11 
 
 "Mildred Downer amusing?" inquired 
 Trask. 
 
 "She amuses me. She's new, modern, 
 queer." 
 
 "Queer? Why not? Her father was a man 
 and so was her mother." 
 
 Lady Bobs laughed. 
 
 "I'll put Mildred the Manling next you for 
 punishment." 
 
 "When is O'Toole's leave up?" he inquired. 
 
 "I haven't asked him." 
 
 "He manages to be about London a good 
 deal." 
 
 "Don't fuss about Larry. He's perfectly 
 charming, even if you don't like him." 
 
 Brooks entered and offered Lady Trask a 
 letter. She opened it, looked through it, a 
 slow flush rising to her face. She glanced at 
 her husband and turned to the butler, who 
 waited at the door. 
 
 "Did this come by messenger, Brooks?" 
 
 "Apparently, Lady Trask. It was pushed 
 under the door." 
 
 "There is no answer." 
 
 "Has Kendrick changed his mind?" asked 
 Trask amusedly. 
 
 "No," she said.
 
 12 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Lady Harrison was announced at the mo- 
 ment. Cecily Harrison was typically English. 
 Tall, thin, with sandy hair, which was waved 
 back from a lovely brow. Emerald green eyes 
 gave her face its distinction. 
 
 ".Morning, Bobs. How-do, Ashton?" She 
 looked about. "I knew you were spooring, 
 Bobs, when you asked me.'* 
 
 "Did you? Well, wait and see whether I 
 was spoofing or not," retorted her hostess. 
 "My word, look at her mufti, Ashton." 
 
 "Yes," said Lady Cecily, "I'm dressed for 
 conquest. He may hate women, but no man 
 could hate this frock." 
 
 "Cecily, you're terrifying in all your glory!" 
 her host remarked. 
 
 "Ashton is in a funk because I called you 
 up and asked you to lunch. He's afraid Lord 
 Kendrick will blame him for my indiscretions." 
 
 "Nice of you, dear, to call me an indiscre- 
 tion. I hope you didn't ask any one else." 
 
 "Mildred, Ted and Larry were coming any- 
 way." 
 
 "Why Mildred?" 
 
 "That's what I said," remarked Sir Ashton. 
 
 "Purposes of contrast. Besides, I like her." 
 
 Ted Carter, a young American, serving in
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 13 
 
 the English Flying Corps, in London on sick 
 leave, came in with Captain Larry O'Toole, 
 who carried his left arm in a sling. They were 
 familiars in this household, and great favour- 
 ites with both the ladies. 
 
 O'Toole struck an attitude, as of one blind- 
 ed, before the two women who stood together. 
 
 "Aren't you very splendid, you two?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "We are, Captain O'Toole. We are perfectly 
 splendid," answered Lady Bobs. 
 
 "Do say something pretty, O'Toole. They've 
 been forced to admire themselves for several 
 minutes, the vain things," teased Ashton. 
 
 "Are you paralysed, too?" inquired the 
 American. 
 
 "Entirely." 
 
 "When did you come back, Sir Ashton?" 
 asked O'Toole. 
 
 "A day or so ago." 
 
 "Lord Kendrick came back with you, I hear." 
 
 "Yes. We were together a week at the 
 front, and came home together." 
 
 "Preparations for a big spring drive, I hear. 
 I hope to Heaven I get back in time for it," 
 said Carter. 
 
 The Honourable Mildred Downer was an-
 
 14 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 nounced and advanced quickly. She was 
 small, alert, sexless. She wore tailored clothes, 
 and was utterly unadorned. She gave Lady 
 Trask's welcoming hand a short, hard clasp 
 and offered a curt greeting to the others. 
 
 "Where is he?" said she. 
 
 "Here I am," smiled O'Toole, advancing 
 gallantly. 
 
 She gave him a scornful glance, and no 
 reply. 
 
 "Late. He waits for an entrance." Bobs 
 replied. 
 
 "Are we waiting for the King?" asked 
 O'Toole. 
 
 "Lord Kendrick," announced Brooks. 
 
 The tall figure halted a moment at the 
 threshold, swept the room with a quick glance, 
 and advanced toward the group as toward a 
 hateful duty. Lady Trask went to meet him. 
 
 "You are very welcome, Lord Kendrick," 
 she said. 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 She presented him to the others. He bowed 
 formally, making no reply to their greetings. 
 Mildred Downer advanced and held out her 
 hand. He took it for a brief moment, looking 
 at her keenly.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 15 
 
 "Don't act as if you didn't know me," she 
 said. 
 
 "Certainly I know you," he replied. 
 
 He turned to Trask. 
 
 "We must be in our seats at two- thirty. The 
 Premier speaks at three." 
 
 There was an awkward pause, broken by the 
 announcement 
 
 "The Duchess of Wrowe." 
 
 "The Devil!" ejaculated Lady Bobs audi- 
 bly, whereupon Kendrick flashed a smile of 
 amusement at her. 
 
 The frumpy well known figure puffed to- 
 ward them. 
 
 "Roberta, I've come to lunch. I'm not in- 
 vited, but I've come." 
 
 "How enchanting of you, Duchess," said 
 Bobs. 
 
 "Ashton, you ask me to parties that bore me, 
 and when you give one that interests me, 1 
 have to come unasked." 
 
 He bowed over her hand. 
 
 "Unasked, possibly. Never unwelcome." 
 
 She nodded to the others. 
 
 "Duchess, if you weren't asked, you will 
 have to do without your entree. As the young* 
 est present I refuse to give up mine to you.
 
 16 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I should never expect you to give up any- 
 thing, Cecily. Giving up is not your special 
 talent," retorted the Duchess. She turned to 
 Kendrick. "I heard you were lunching here, 
 that's why I came." 
 
 "I'm flattered, Duchess," he said. 
 
 "I want to know all the inside news from 
 the front," she began. 
 
 Luncheon was announced, and Lord Ken- 
 drick led the way with Lady Trask. 
 
 "It serves you right," said he. 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 "Luring me here under false pretences." 
 
 "Ashton invited you " 
 
 "An hour ago to drop into lunch, en 
 famitte" 
 
 "You would have preferred me, alone?" 
 
 "I expected to talk shop with your hus- 
 band," he evaded. 
 
 "That's not a pretty speech." 
 
 "I'm not a pretty speechmaker, Lady 
 Trask." 
 
 "The men were lunching here. I asked Mil- 
 dred and Cecily, because I thought they would 
 amuse you." 
 
 "Who is Cecily?" 
 
 "Lady Harrison. She's next you."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 17 
 
 He turned to look at his neighbour, and en- 
 countered her eyes. He looked through her, 
 and it was not until he was attacking his fish 
 that she spoke. 
 
 "Don't you ever smile?" she inquired sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "I do when I'm amused." 
 
 "Go on with your fish, until I think of some- 
 thing amusing," she said, turning her attention 
 to O'Toole, on her other side. 
 
 "Perhaps you would have preferred the 
 Duchess," said Lady Bobs to him. 
 
 "I don't object to the green-eyed woman," 
 he replied. 
 
 Lady Bobs laughed. 
 
 "You are an ogre, but you don't terrify 
 me." 
 
 "I haven't tried to." 
 
 "You think you could?" 
 
 "Must I think about it?" 
 
 The Duchess leaned forward. 
 
 "Lord Kendrick, what are they going to do 
 next in France?" 
 
 "I don't know. Duchess." 
 
 "You must know what we're going to do." 
 
 "If I did, I should not tell." 
 
 "I hear the French and English have done
 
 18 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 great work along the Somme," said Carter. 
 
 "Yes. While we were there they worked 
 out a new plan of advance. Our forces would 
 effect a lodgment, and work zig-zag, widening 
 the front of penetration. The Boche couldn't 
 get on to it. 
 
 "I don't understand that. Tell it in words 
 of one syllable for an old woman, Ashton," the 
 Duchess commanded. 
 
 He took out a pencil and started to draw 
 a diagram on the tablecloth. 
 
 "Trask, don't do that!" objected Kendrick. 
 
 "Here, among my intimate friends? Why, 
 I trust them as I would myself." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Kendrick briefly. 
 
 "I see why they call you Silent Kendrick," 
 said Lady Bobs. 
 
 "Silence and soldiering go best together." 
 
 "Is that why you dislike women, because 
 they chatter?" 
 
 "That's one reason." 
 
 "Are there many?" 
 
 "There are enough." 
 
 His smile came again. 
 
 "You look quite human when you smile." 
 
 "I have very little time to be human,
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 19 
 
 Madame. Are you an American?" he added 
 abruptly. 
 
 "I was born in New York. My father was 
 one of the Hancocks an old American fam- 
 ily. Why do you ask?" 
 
 "You look un-English. The boy is Ameri- 
 can, too?" 
 
 "Boy?" 
 
 "The adoring lad on your other side." 
 
 "Fancy your noticing that," she laughed. 
 
 "Noticing is my chief talent, Lady Trask." 
 
 "Do notice me!" 
 
 "I have." 
 
 Lady Cecily claimed his attention. 
 
 "I've thought of it." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "The something amusing." 
 
 "Ah." 
 
 "You must say, 'What is it?' " 
 
 "I prefer not to risk it." 
 
 "It is very funny." 
 
 "Well, get ahead with it." 
 
 "It is your retort to the Queen." 
 
 "My what?" 
 
 "You don't know about it! It is the one 
 moss-grown anecdote always told about you. 
 The Queen laid "
 
 20 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "What Queen?" 
 
 "Victoria. Don't interrupt. She said, 
 'Lord Kendrick, I hear that you have no love 
 for the ladies.' You said, 'For one only/ 
 'Who is she?' asked her Royal Highness. And 
 you retorted, 'Your Majesty!' ' 
 
 "Why do you think that is funny?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 Lady Bobs was listening to them, and at this 
 juncture she and Lady Cecily burst out laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 "The true tale goes thus," said Bobs. "The 
 Queen: 'Lord Kendrick, I hear you have no 
 love for the ladies.' Lord Kendrick: 'Ah I' 
 The Queen, archly: 'Not even for one?' Lord 
 Kendrick: 'None!'" 
 
 He turned his glance from one laughing 
 face to the other. 
 
 "How can any one take you seriously? 
 You're like kittens, chasing a bright coloured 
 ball." 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Lady Bobs. 
 
 "Brute!" ejaculated Lady Cecily. 
 
 He rose. 
 
 "There is a sweet to come, and coffee," ob- 
 jected his hostess. 
 
 "I regret that I must go."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 21 
 
 She rose too. 
 
 "Ashton, Lord Kendrick is going." 
 
 He came to join his guest. She gave Lord 
 Kendrick her hand, smiling. 
 
 "You are the most perfect barbarian I ever 
 met." 
 
 "Madam, I am a machine of war." 
 
 "Au Voir," she said, and sat down again. 
 
 "If you will excuse me, I will go with him," 
 Sir Ashton remarked. With a bow to the 
 others Lord Kendrick left the room, his host 
 with him. 
 
 "What a horrible man!" burst out Lady 
 Cecily. 
 
 "Oh, no, Cecily. It takes genius to behave 
 like that," said Lady Bobs. "I feel as if I had 
 lunched with Thor, or was it Wodin?" 
 
 "It takes some nerve to spoil a party and 
 then drag your host off in the middle of it," 
 exclaimed Carter. 
 
 "I'm the one to complain about Ashton," 
 said the Duchess. 
 
 "Duchess, shall you be lonely? Let me com- 
 fort you," said the Irishman gaily. "Miss 
 Downer has reduced me to fragments. Twelve 
 baskets full of fragments." 
 
 He crossed to Ashton Trask's empty chair.
 
 22 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 He made ridiculous love to the Duchess, but 
 his laughing eyes rested again and again on 
 Sir Ashton's uncompleted diagram on the 
 tablecloth.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 LADY ROBERTA TRASK had an interesting 
 heritage. Her father was the son of a long 
 line of men who had made history in America. 
 Her mother had been a famous beauty, Ade- 
 laide Briick, born in New York but of German 
 parentage. Roberta could scarcely remember 
 her, for she had died in the girl's early child- 
 hood, never having recovered from the birth of 
 her child. 
 
 Hancock, who had been madly in love with 
 her, laid her death at the door of his daughter, 
 and never forgave her. He saw as little of her 
 as possible. So it was that the picturesque and 
 dominating figure of her childhood and youth 
 had been her German grandfather, Heinrich 
 Briick. He was an impelling personality, ut- 
 terly devoted to his grandchild and his Father- 
 land. He lived in the United States for the 
 greater part of his life, from thirty to seventy, 
 but he never became an American citizen in 
 any sense of the word. 
 
 He had poured his passion for German ideas 
 
 23
 
 24 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 and ideals into the plastic mind of his grand- 
 child. He spoke only German to her, and she 
 grew up in the knowledge of German litera- 
 ture, philosophy and politics. Her grand- 
 father was her idol, and she gave him her com- 
 plete devotion. 
 
 When she was fifteen the old man died. 
 After a period of fierce rebellion and grief, 
 the normal interests of the school girl absorbed 
 her, until at eighteen she lost her father. Al- 
 most at once she married a friend of her fa- 
 ther's, a man many years her senior, a rich New 
 Yorker. 
 
 At twenty she was a widow, enormously rich 
 and very handsome. It was on the Riviera, a 
 year later, that she met Sir Ashton Trask. 
 After a doggedly determined courtship, on his 
 part, he won and married her. 
 
 In London she "got on" with the right peo- 
 ple. Her wealth and her beauty were a ten 
 days' sensation, and then she and her charming 
 husband found their house the centre of an 
 interesting group, literary, artistic and polit- 
 ical. They had been fifteen years in London 
 when the Great War broke out, 
 
 "Lady Bobs," admired and adored as she 
 was, had never become an English citizen at
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 25 
 
 heart. She was fond of her associates, she en- 
 joyed her life, but there was in her a sort of 
 reserve of amusement at the peculiarities and 
 foibles of the English people. It never crys- 
 tallised into active criticism or antipathy, but 
 it just lurked there in the depths of her mind. 
 She thought of herself as American, she was 
 spoken of always as such. Any lack of formal- 
 ity or convention on her part was forgiven her 
 on the ground of her "Americanism." 
 
 But with the coming of the Great War, 
 when nationality became a fierce passion in the 
 hearts of men, there stirred in her an ancient 
 loyalty. It was instinctive, primal. It was 
 not to England, not to America, it was to Ger- 
 many. It was deeply Teutonic, anti- Saxon. 
 It startled her, as thoroughly as it terrified her. 
 The thought of all such allegiance must be 
 slain, she said to herself, it made her position 
 too unbearable. So she fought it down and 
 held it back during the first months of the war. 
 
 With the rest of the world she was shocked 
 at the invasion of Belgium, but not as her 
 husband was shocked. As she pointed out to 
 him, if France was to be invaded, it had to be 
 through Belgium, no other way could have 
 succeeded. This was War.
 
 26 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Her mind, like the mind of the world, con- 
 centrated on the momentous events of the fall 
 of 1914. In her groping for light on her own 
 situation, she summoned the memory of Hein- 
 rich Briick. She recalled his dreams of a tri- 
 umphant world conquest of German "Kultur" ; 
 his belief in the power of organised thought, 
 nay, the super-power of organised forethought. 
 He held that a Teutonic civilisation would fol- 
 low the Anglo-Saxon, and after that a Slavic. 
 
 In the midst of her soul-searchings it seemed 
 to her that the form of her grandfather ap- 
 peared to her, that he spoke again in his well 
 remembered compelling way, of the ideals of 
 a nation which was working out for itself a 
 union of the practical and the ideal, which was 
 trying to put imagination into the economic 
 processes. He pointed out to her the weak- 
 nesses of the Anglo-Saxon mind. She com- 
 muned with his spirit, drank deep of his enthu- 
 siasm, and found herself more terribly per- 
 plexed. 
 
 Her affection for Ashton Trask was very 
 real. She knew the depth of his devotion to 
 her, even while she cultivated the American 
 fine art of coquetry. The love of many men 
 had played a part in her life. She had played
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 27 
 
 at love. She admired and liked Ashton, but 
 she had never known the grand passion. On 
 the whole, she preferred not to. 
 
 She went over all this, trying to get her 
 mind clear. Like all Britons, Ashton Trask 
 felt his country to be the very root of his being. 
 She knew that and respected him for it. But 
 she knew that he would never understand nor 
 forgive this hybrid allegiance on her part. 
 Where did her duty lie? Should she tell him, 
 and go? Should she be silent, and live false- 
 hood? 
 
 It was six weeks after England entered the 
 War that there came the first of the mysterious 
 messages, calling on her, as the granddaughter 
 of Heinrich Briick, to serve the Fatherland. 
 Where they came from, or how, she did not 
 know. They were just there, as by magic, on 
 her dressing table, in her motor car. They 
 urged her, in German of course, to send the 
 information at her command to her own peo- 
 ple, to serve her grandfather's ideals. 
 
 She was told that a man stood always on 
 guard of her house. When the hour came for 
 her to pro verier self, a small British flag, hung 
 in her bedroom window, would bring an ac-
 
 28 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 credited agent of the Fatherland to her door 
 immediately. 
 
 It was the bold delivery of such a message, 
 the day that Kendrick came to lunch, that had 
 alarmed her. It was a threat. What if one of 
 these communications fell into Ashton's hands, 
 or those of the servants? The danger was as 
 great as the nerve strain was racking. How 
 could she stop them? These were the prob- 
 lems that nagged her mind night and day. 
 
 She threw herself into every form of activity, 
 as a means of escape. There was but little en- 
 tertaining in this the third year of the war, and 
 so fewer outlets than usual for overcharged 
 nerves. But she kept her house full, and she 
 forced herself to take part in the innumerable 
 war activities carried on by women, pending 
 her decision as to her own ultimate position. 
 
 The first year and a half she had ignored her 
 orders from abroad. The late winter of 1916 
 was now upon the world, and the cause of the 
 Allies hanging in the balance. The message 
 delivered the day of the Kendrick luncheon 
 was not friendly in tone. It announced that 
 victory of the Central Powers was assured, and 
 that she was needed for an act of great service. 
 She must no longer delay. Had she forgot
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 29 
 
 that Germany could ruin her? No traitor to 
 the Fatherland would be spared! 
 
 The cold hand of Fear seemed to shut down 
 on her. It was a week or so after the receipt 
 of the threat, that Lady Cecily induced her to 
 go to a big public meeting where the Premier 
 was to speak. She did not want to go, but 
 anything was better than the company of her 
 own thoughts. 
 
 The great hall was crowded with people of 
 every class and kind, when they arrived. The 
 two women sat where they could sweep the 
 crowd with their eyes. 
 
 "How tense their faces look how restless 
 they are," Lady Bobs said. 
 
 "Yes. They are like people frantically 
 clutching at this or that to save themselves." 
 
 "Poor wretched souls!" sighed Lady Trask. 
 
 "What do they make of it all, Bobs? Do 
 they believe that we are fighting because Bel- 
 gium was invaded?" 
 
 "They believe what they're told." 
 
 The chairman and the speakers appeared, 
 greeted with loud applause. The meeting 
 came to order. Announcements were made, 
 the first speaker introduced. Lady Bobs did
 
 80 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 not listen. She looked down at the crowd with 
 its glittering eyes and tense faces. 
 
 "We have only to have a chance of even 
 numbers, or anything approaching even num- 
 bers, to demonstrate the superiority of free 
 thinking, active citizens, over the docile sheep 
 who serve the ferocious ambitions of drastic 
 kings!" shouted the speaker, stabbing Lady 
 Bobs' attention. She looked around again. 
 Were these "free thinking, active citizens" 
 down there? Did they conceive themselves to 
 be such? 
 
 Her mind went off down long avenues of 
 speculation. It shuddered away from the past, 
 it peered into the future. The crowd below 
 filled the universe, the ignorant, the exploited, 
 the enslaved. Who and what were "drastic 
 kings"? Were they individuals or systems? 
 
 There was great applause, and her eyes came 
 back to the spectacle below. The Premier was 
 being introduced. He began to speak. She 
 did not hear him, she heard her grandfather 
 saying, "The nation that is to live must become 
 the master of tools. A militant idealism must 
 conquer the common life. The energy of this 
 idealism must be turned into the power of
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 81 
 
 tools. . . ." The Premier's voice drowned him 
 out: 
 
 "We are fighting against barbarism, against 
 a selfish and material civilisation. They can- 
 not comprehend the action of Britain at the 
 present moment; they say so. They say, 
 'France we understand. She is out for venge- 
 ance; she is out for territory, for Alsace-Lor- 
 raine.' They say they can understand Russia. 
 She is fighting for mastery she wants Galicia. 
 They can understand your fighting for greed, 
 for vengeance, for territory, but they cannot 
 understand a great Empire flinging its re- 
 sources, the lives of its children, its very exis- 
 tence to protect a little nation that seeks to 
 defend herself " 
 
 The crowd interrupted with wild applause. 
 
 "That is what we fight, that claim to pre- 
 dominance of a material, hard civilisation 
 which, if it once wins, sways the world. Lib- 
 erty goes, democracy vanishes, and unless 
 Britain and her sons come to the rescue, it will 
 be a dark day for humanity." 
 
 A slow anger welled up in Roberta. France, 
 Italy, Russia, were they not busy rescuing 
 humanity? Surely Britain and her sons were 
 not alone in their nobility!
 
 32 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "We shall need all our qualities, every qual- 
 ity that Britain and its people possess, pru- 
 dence in counsel, daring in action, tenacity in 
 purpose, courage in defeat, moderation in vic- 
 tory, and in all things faith." 
 
 As he sat down the crowd below beat its 
 hands, stamped its feet, waved its arms and 
 shouted. They liked this picture that he drew 
 of them, they liked to believe that they alone 
 could save a tottering world. With his usual 
 discrimination, Lloyd George had struck the 
 popular note. Fury with their blindness 
 mounted to Lady Bobs' brain. She longed to 
 cry out to them, "Fools, fools, when will you 
 learn to think for yourselves !" 
 
 As she stood looking at them as they left 
 the hall, she suddenly looked down into the 
 eyes of Lord Kendrick. There was an ex- 
 change of thought between them, before they 
 greeted each other. She turned quickly to 
 Lady Cecily. 
 
 "Remarkable speech, wasn't it?" Lady 
 Cecily said. 
 
 Lady Bobs turned startled eyes upon her. 
 She saw her friend thrilled, moved. She made 
 no answer, just turned and led the way out. 
 It was slow going, because of the crush. They
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 33 
 
 met some people they knew on the way, and 
 stopped to talk. Everywhere the verdict was 
 the same, it had been a great meeting. 
 
 At the door they met Lord Kendrick. He 
 had evidently waited for them. He bowed 
 gravely and walked beside them. He glanced 
 at Lady Trask a second time. 
 
 "Are you ill?" 
 
 "No. The air in there was vile. I shall be 
 all right when I get some fresh air and tea." 
 
 He engineered them through the mob, found 
 Lady Bobs' car, put them into it. He gave the 
 chauffeur an order and got in after them. 
 
 "Are we commandeered?" inquired Cecily. 
 
 "Yes," said he, "for tea,"
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 HE took them to a quiet tea shop, and found 
 a retired corner. Lady Cecily chattered on 
 about the meeting, the Premier and his speech, 
 the enthusiasm of the crowd. Lord Kendrick 
 listened without reply. He turned his glance 
 upon Lady Trask. 
 
 "What did you think of the speech?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 "I shouldn't have gone. I hate patrioteer- 
 ing," she evaded. 
 
 "It has to be done." 
 
 "Maybe. Why are we so smug, we Anglo- 
 Saxons? England and America are so sure 
 that they are God's anointed." 
 
 "They are," he said simply. 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "It is comfortable to be a bigot," she teased 
 him. 
 
 "It is essential. In times like these you must 
 have no doubts. Your country is the best, your 
 cause the holiest." 
 
 "That's a very long speech for you, isn't it?" 
 said Lady Cecily. 
 
 34
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 85 
 
 He swept her with his absent gaze. 
 
 "He has forgotten me again," she sighed. 
 "Harrison is the name, yclept Cecily." 
 
 He made no comment on that. 
 
 "Why were you so profoundly moved?" he 
 asked Roberta. 
 
 She gave him her startled gaze for a second. 
 
 "I am too tired. It is the spring, I suppose. 
 I must get away to-morrow." 
 
 "What do you do to rest yourself?" 
 
 "I dig." 
 
 "Do you? Excellent." 
 
 "What are you talking about? Would you 
 mind acting as if I were here in the flesh, and 
 not in the astral only?" begged Lady Cecily. 
 
 He looked at her then. 
 
 "How you do love the spotlight," he re- 
 marked. 
 
 "I do, and so do you." 
 
 "No. I dislike it, but I endure it." 
 
 "Pooh! You'd die without it. You're made 
 up for the spotlight all the time heroic ges- 
 tures all ready for action." 
 
 "Who is this silly woman?" he inquired of 
 Lady Bobs. 
 
 "She isn't silly. She's profoundly wise " 
 
 "You mustn't be misled by my blond hair,"
 
 36 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 she advised him. "I don't know why it is so 
 startling to find brains in a blond woman, do 
 you?" 
 
 "I never did," he replied. 
 
 "Really, you are brutal. Do you want peo- 
 ple to hate you?" 
 
 "People what people?" 
 
 She leaned toward him. 
 
 "The earth is densely populated with animal 
 life, called human. If you should happen to 
 look about you, you would note the presence 
 of these creatures " 
 
 "She's like a phonograph," protested Lord 
 Kendrick. "Can't she be shut off?" 
 
 "No, I always play a full programme, in- 
 cluding Donna e mobile, and airs from Travi- 
 ata." 
 
 "Cecily, don't tease him," begged Roberta. 
 
 "You have Bobs on your side." 
 
 "Who is Bobs?" 
 
 "Roberta Trask. We all call her Lady 
 Bobs." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "What do you dig," he asked, "and where?" 
 
 "Mother Earth, in Surrey." 
 
 "It is the only way, isn't it?" 
 
 She looked her question.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 37 
 
 "To get back, by physical contact, with the 
 roots of things." 
 
 "Yes. I often wish humans lay down in the 
 warm, sweet smelling earth in the fall, like the 
 leaves, and came out renewed and green in the 
 spring." 
 
 "We do eventually." 
 
 "Worms is all I get out of this," protested 
 Lady Cecily. 
 
 "Do you dig?" Lady Bobs asked him. 
 
 "I do. Religiously, devoutly, fanatically." 
 
 "Bigot even in gardening?" 
 
 "That's why my geraniums are the finest 
 in England." 
 
 "You haven't any sense of humour at all, 
 have you?" said Lady Cecily sweetly. 
 
 "No. I despise it." 
 
 "No wonder you're a great man you make 
 an asset of your faults." 
 
 "It is the sign of strong men to use their 
 faults wisely. It is weak men who have vices." 
 
 "I do hate this man, Bobs. He's like a Brit- 
 ish Tank." 
 
 Kendrick's sudden burst of laughter startled 
 them both. 
 
 "My God," exclaimed Cecily, "I feel as if 
 I'd been struck by lightning!"
 
 88 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Cecily," laughed Bobs, "you blessed goose! 
 Tell me about your geraniums, Lord Kendrick. 
 Why did you choose to cultivate them?" 
 
 A shadow crossed his face, before he an- 
 swered briefly. 
 
 "They were the favourite flower of some 
 one I cared for. I acquired a taste for them 
 young." 
 
 "I should have expected you to raise cactus," 
 said Cecily. 
 
 "There is no use trying to talk with this 
 'enfant terrible' on our hands. Couldn't you 
 take Lady Trask's car and go for a drive?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 "No. I won't go home. I like it here." 
 
 "Do you see anybody about you'd like lo 
 talk with?" he inquired. 
 
 She looked about mischievously. 
 
 "Interesting looking man by the door, with 
 the longish face " 
 
 "And longish hair," added Bobs. 
 
 Lord Kendrick strode across the room to the 
 table indicated. They saw the man's startled 
 look, his nod, his smile. He rose at once and 
 came back with Lord Kendrick. 
 
 "He's captured him," exclaimed Cecily.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 39 
 
 "You didn't think he'd fail, did you?" was 
 Bobs' amused comment. 
 
 Just before they came to the table they 
 heard Lord Kendrick say: 
 
 "By the way, what is your name?" 
 
 The young man answered, and Lord Ken- 
 drick said: 
 
 "Lady Trask, may I present Mr. Basil 
 Languedoc. Lady Harrison, Mr. Langue- 
 doc." 
 
 They bowed to him, and Lord Kendrick 
 waved him to a seat. 
 
 "Play something for him, Lady Harrison. 
 Try Traviata," he chuckled, turning his full 
 attention upon Lady Trask. 
 
 Lady Cecily looked at the young man and 
 laughed. He smiled back at her. 
 
 "Do you know him?" she asked. 
 
 "Every one does, more or less." 
 
 "Does he know you?" 
 
 "I suspect he does not." 
 
 "What did he say to you?" 
 
 "For God's sake, come and talk to the pretty 
 blond woman at my table, young man." 
 
 Lady Cecily's laugh chimed merrily. 
 
 "I ought to tell you, that he gave me my 
 choice of the whole room, and I picked you."
 
 40 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because of your hands. What does one do 
 with hands like that?" 
 
 "The usual stupidities, such as washing the 
 face." 
 
 "Do you paint?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "Must I show my label?" 
 
 "Not at all. I shall think of you as a plumb- 
 er, and be quite content." 
 
 "Excellent profession, I'm told. What do 
 you do that is interesting?" 
 
 "I do good work, and war works. I amuse 
 my friends, and bedevil my husband is that 
 enough of my label?" 
 
 "Yes. I shall think of you as a green-eyed 
 yellow butterfly, and be quite content." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "Repeat 'Jesus Repose' for me." 
 
 "You do know, then?" 
 
 "Of course. Say me your charming verses." 
 
 He repeated them softly, dramatically. His 
 voice was like honey. 
 "Le sacrifice est consomme. Jesus repose. 
 
 Mourons pour la Patrie et pour sa sainte cause, 
 L.e sacrifice est consomm. Jesus repose."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 41 
 
 Kendrick turned to them. 
 
 "What's this?" 
 
 Lady Cecily's eyes were dim. 
 
 "You did very well for me. You picked a 
 poet. He has made me cry, and I'm going 
 home." 
 
 They all rose, and the poet made his fare- 
 wells, and stayed on. 
 
 "Perhaps when I come back from Surrey, 
 you will come and talk gardens with me again, 
 Lord Kendrick," said Bobs as they went to- 
 ward the door. 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "If you should suddenly find yourself with 
 a longing for my society, come and see me," 
 said Cecily. 
 
 He bowed. 
 
 "You might, you know. A taste for me is 
 like a germ, men have died of it." 
 
 "Of the taste or the cure?" 
 
 "Both. I could read up on a seed cata- 
 logue, but you may as well know that garden- 
 ing is not a passion with me." 
 
 "Good afternoon," said he, closing the motor 
 door. 
 
 "Shall we drop you somewhere?" asked 
 Bobs.
 
 42 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "No. I prefer to walk." 
 
 They marked his tall military figure as he 
 swung away from them. 
 
 "He's a dear," said Cecily. 
 
 Bobs laughed. 
 
 "How was the poet? It was the Languedoc, 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 "Umhm. He left a sweetish taste in my 
 mouth, after Kendrick." 
 
 "Why isn't he in khaki?" asked Lady Bobs, 
 idly, avoiding silence. 
 
 "I didn't ask him. I should think probably 
 because he would faint at the sight of a gun. 
 He's beautiful, in an exotic way " 
 
 "Umhm- 
 
 "If only some one in my infancy had taught 
 me to grab what I want, as Lord Kendrick 
 does." 
 
 "My dear, you get what you want. If you 
 mean the lovely poet, he came willingly 
 enough 
 
 "If he hadn't he would have been dragged." 
 
 Lady Bobs nodded. 
 
 "It's an enviable sort of mind to have, the 
 Kendrick kind. It shuts, automatically, like a 
 steel safe around the body of its convictions, 
 and no disturbing light gets in."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 43 
 
 "No woman ever had a mind like that, Bobs. 
 Nearly all of us have a sense of humour, which 
 is your 'disturbing light.' ' 
 
 "If you had heard him on gardens, you 
 would know why he succeeds at everything. 
 Top-soils and sub-soils, fertilisers, tools, the- 
 ories of cultivation, all arranged in his mind 
 for use." 
 
 "How dull to know where everything is, in 
 your mind!" 
 
 "It would be interesting to sweep into such 
 a place, like a whirlwind, and mess things up, 
 wouldn't it?" she mused. 
 
 "Rather. Have a try at it, Bobs, and tell 
 me about it." 
 
 "Have a try yourself." 
 
 "Couldn't manage it. I never would get 
 inside, and if I did, I'd only kick up a bit of 
 dust. You're the one. I've always said you'd 
 be a regular simoon, if you ever started to 
 blow." 
 
 "I don't want to start, thanks, it's too upset- 
 ting." 
 
 They were at Lady Cecily's door and she 
 stepped out of the car. She put a saucy face 
 in at the window to add: 
 
 "Go ahead, Bobs, and simoon him!"
 
 44 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 At home Lady Trask went at once to her 
 own rooms. This sitting room and bedroom 
 of hers were very characteristic of her. They 
 were cool and large, with space and simplicity 
 as their keynote. The neutral coloured walls 
 seemed to open out, never to shut in. The 
 notes of colour were concentrated here and 
 there, in a lamp, a bowl of flowers, or a shelf 
 of deep blue books. Her piano was here, its 
 rack filled with the music she loved, and an 
 open fire burned on the hearth. 
 
 It rested her always like the presence of a 
 friend. To-day she was in special need of such 
 help. She was literally worn out with the emo- 
 tions of the afternoon. She undressed and put 
 on a loose negligee gown. She selected a book 
 with care, and sat down by her fire to read. 
 After a bit she admitted that her eye obeyed 
 orders and read words, but her mind was blank. 
 
 She went to the piano, and let her fingers 
 choose the way, rather than her brain. A flood 
 of ideas and reactions poured through her con- 
 sciousness like a searchlight. The Premier's 
 speech how strange that it should have made 
 
 her so angry She smiled at the memory 
 
 of Cecily's amusing audacities, and the way 
 they plagued Lord Kendrick. What strange
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 45 
 
 silences the man fathered what a surprise his 
 laugh was. What sort of human was he? She 
 must find out. He attracted her immensely. 
 Was it in the power of any woman to "simoon 
 him" in Cecily's ridiculous phrase ? . . . What 
 was it he had said to her? "You must have no 
 doubts. Your country must be the best, your 
 cause the holiest." What if he knew what 
 dangerous advice that was to give her at this 
 moment? 
 
 She was aware now of the thing she was 
 playing, an old favourite of her grandfather's. 
 It brought him close to her, so that she felt him. 
 She closed her eyes that she might not lose 
 him. He released her battered spirit from the 
 world of flux she li ved in, he gave her the sense 
 of an ordered world. 
 
 Back over the years that held him, her spirit 
 trailed, the years of her childhood when he 
 had been both father and mother. How sure 
 his understanding had been, how true his de- 
 votion. His deep-throated laugh sounded 
 again. . . . Her hands dropped from the keys 
 and she felt drowsy, relaxed at last. She went 
 to the couch and lay down, thinking she would 
 sleep.
 
 46 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Grandfather Heinrich," she whispered, 
 "what shall I do?" 
 
 She lay quite still, straining to catch his an- 
 swer. She was neither asleep nor awake. She 
 heard the clock tick, and a log fall, burned 
 through, in the fireplace. And yet she was 
 not in that room. She sensed a rustling, as of 
 unseen presences. She felt as if finger-tips 
 touched her eyes. She was cold with terror, 
 yet filled with hope. 
 
 After what seemed a long time, she opened 
 her eyes. In a stream of light that came in her 
 window, from a street lamp outside, she saw, 
 distinctly, Heinrich Briick standing. He came 
 slowly toward her, and she raised herself on 
 her elbow to greet him. He carried what 
 seemed to be a flaming sword, laid across his 
 two hands, palms open and upturned. She felt 
 him lay the sword across her knees, she felt 
 his hand on her hair, his breath on her cheek. 
 She heard him say: 
 
 "Fur das Vaterland, meine grosse enkelin!" 
 
 She lay staring at him, speechless, terrified, 
 longing yet unable to speak. In a second he 
 was gone, and she knew she was too late. She
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 47 
 
 lost consciousness for a period of time. But 
 the thundering of her heart finally awakened 
 her. 
 
 The room was empty, the window closed. 
 She looked at the clock, it was only a quarter 
 before seven. Her breath came suffocatingly, 
 in sobbing gasps. Slowly she sat up, and with 
 startled remembrance her eyes turned to her 
 knees, where the sword had been laid. A little 
 British flag lay in her lap. 
 
 She did not question any more. She did not 
 hesitate. She rose, went to the window of her 
 bedroom, and pinned the flag to her shade. 
 Then she dressed in a feverish hurry. She was 
 subconsciously glad that extra work at the War 
 Office would keep Sir Ashton late. Not that 
 it mattered now. . . . She went down stairs. 
 To Brooks she said that she was expecting a 
 message and she wished to speak with the mes- 
 senger. 
 
 Then she went into the drawing-room and 
 forced herself to sit down and wait.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IT might have been ten minutes, it might 
 have been aeons which passed while Lady Bobs 
 sat there waiting. Then she heard the bell, 
 there were voices in the hall, footsteps came 
 toward the drawing-room door. Brooks ush- 
 ered some one in, and she forced herself to turn 
 and face the messenger. There stood, smiling 
 his gayest smile at her, Captain Larry O'Toole. 
 She stifled an hysteric exclamation and tried to 
 get her nerves in hand. 
 
 "A very good day to ye, most lovely av 
 ladies!" 
 
 "Oh, Larry, I'm not at home," she said. 
 
 He came to stand in front of her. 
 
 "I think you're at home to me." 
 
 "But I'm not. I have a business appoint- 
 ment, besides it is too late for tea here, so run 
 along, Irishman." 
 
 "Come now, ye wouldn't be drivin' out your 
 own Larry 
 
 "Larry, I'm serious," she began. 
 
 A sudden change came over the laughing 
 face. 
 
 48
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 49 
 
 "So am I," said he. 
 
 "I'm expecting " 
 
 "A messenger," he finished. 
 
 She flushed and stared. 
 
 "How did you know?" 
 
 "I am he." 
 
 "Larry you !" 
 
 He slipped off a seal ring he wore, opened 
 it with a spring, took out a tiny, folded paper, 
 spread it on his palm. He took up a magnify- 
 ing glass from a table and offered it to her. 
 She peered at the miniature identification of 
 Captain Larry O'Toole as the agent of the 
 Imperial German Government. She raised 
 her eyes to his face, literally speechless with 
 astonishment. He hastily replaced the dan- 
 gerous scrap of paper in its hiding place. 
 
 "Larry, I just cannot grasp it." 
 
 "It's not so difficult." 
 
 "But gay happy you, playing around, and 
 making love to all of us " 
 
 "That's how I serve the one I love best av 
 all!" he said passionately. 
 
 "You mean?" 
 
 "I mean Ireland." 
 
 "But your commission. Didn't you have to 
 swear allegiance ?"
 
 50 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I never knew where my allegiance lay until 
 this war began," he said. 
 
 "How strange. That happened to you, 
 too?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "I've always loved Ireland. I've always 
 wanted her to be free, but I left the freein' av 
 her, for the most part, to the other fella'. I 
 stood for England's muddlin' stupidity in our 
 affairs up to the toime when she goes to war 
 for the avowed protection av the integrity av 
 little nations, up to the toime she shoots down 
 the revolutionists, in the streets, without so 
 much as a court martial trial ! When England 
 starts out preachin' an' crusadin' fer freedom, 
 by God, I'll call her attintion to Ireland at 
 her door." 
 
 "But how can Germany help you?" 
 
 "Germany will win the war, an' free Ire- 
 land." 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "Av course I'm sure. I'm riskin' me loife 
 on ut." 
 
 "But is there an agreement?" 
 
 "There is. The revolutionists in Ireland 
 have an agreement with Germany. Nothing 
 could humiliate England so much as for Ger-
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 51 
 
 many to give us our freedom. That's why 
 there is a whole rigimint av us scattered about 
 in the British service." 
 
 She considered that a moment. 
 
 "You don't hate the work you have to do?" 
 
 "Hate ut? It's the breath av loife to me. 
 I've been av considerable service, thanks to me 
 irreproachable connections here. No one else 
 can do what I do. My bit has a special value." 
 
 "You aren't afraid?" 
 
 "Afraid? Of what? Death? Who's afraid 
 of death now? We face it every day at the 
 front, it's as ordinary as breakfast." 
 
 "I see. You count yourself as an infinitesi- 
 mal unit of service?" 
 
 "That's it." 
 
 He looked at her intently, waiting. 
 
 "How did they know about me?" 
 
 He smiled at that. 
 
 "Lady Bobs, they are like God ! They know 
 ivrything. They knew the status and where- 
 abouts of ivry man, woman, and choild av Ger- 
 man, Prussian, or Austrian descent, livin' in 
 England, and They had it down in books, long 
 before the war was dreamed av by the rist av 
 us." 
 
 "How incredible."
 
 52 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Nuthin' is incredible with Them. To an 
 Irishman loike me, with thought for the wan 
 day only, They're terrifyin', for They think in 
 centuries. How can They fail to conquer a 
 haphazard world like the rist av us live in?" 
 
 "Have you known that They were sending 
 me messages?" 
 
 "I have not." 
 
 "How did you come to-day?" 
 
 "I came on orders." 
 
 "From whom?" 
 
 "From Them." 
 
 "They told me that a man watched my house 
 day and night. They told me the signal that 
 would bring an agent 
 
 "You gave the signal?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "A messenger brought me orders to come 
 here and show you my credentials. I couldn't 
 believe it, but I came." 
 
 "My grandfather was a German." 
 
 His eyebrows went up. 
 
 "Trask knows?" 
 
 "About my grandfather? Oh, yes. At least 
 I told him when we were married." 
 
 "He never saw him?" 
 
 "Oh, no. He died when I was fifteen."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 53 
 
 "Your mother's father?" 
 
 "Yes. Heinrich Briick." 
 
 "But your mother was American born?" 
 
 "Yes, as I was. My father was American 
 many generations back." 
 
 "You're always spoken of here as Ameri- 
 can." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Wonderful! You have not mentioned the 
 Briick ancestor since war began?" 
 
 "Naturally not." 
 
 "When did you decide?" 
 
 "To-day, this afternoon," she said in a low 
 voice. "I've known for months that deep in 
 my soul was loyalty to the ideals of my grand- 
 father. I've fought the knowledge, I've denied 
 it. I've told myself over and over that I owed 
 Ashton my full allegiance, but I know now 
 that it doesn't count, that nothing counts ex- 
 cept freeing myself for service " 
 
 "What was it that clinched the determina- 
 tion?" 
 
 "Cecily and I went to-day to hear Lloyd 
 George rouse the populace. I couldn't bear it, 
 his denunciation of us as barbarians, because 
 we make war like ruthless gods. I couldn't 
 endure his calm assumption, but that for Eng-
 
 54 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 land the world would be a ruin and a waste." 
 
 "I know I know," he said. 
 
 "We had tea with Lord Kendrick later. He 
 assured us seriously that the Anglo-Saxons 
 were God's anointed." 
 
 He smiled at that. 
 
 "God with the Kaiser, God with the Angles, 
 poor, distracted God!" 
 
 "I came home terribly wrought up. I lay 
 down to quiet my nerves, and I had a sort of 
 vision of my grandfather. I don't know how 
 it was, I can't explain it 
 
 "Don't try. All the Irish believe in ghosts." 
 
 "He has appeared to me several times since 
 the war began, but never so plainly as he did 
 to-day. Larry, I'm not an hysterical person, 
 ami?" 
 
 "Ye are not." 
 
 "I saw him, I heard him speak. I cried out 
 to him for counsel and he bade me serve the 
 fatherland. I thought he laid a sword on my 
 lap, but when I woke I found it was the signal 
 flag. Larry, how could that be?" 
 
 "I'll niver tell ye. Things are as they are, 
 Lady Bobs. . . . What did ye do, then?" 
 
 "I went and hung the signal in the window, 
 and now I am free."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 55 
 
 She drew a deep breath, and impulsively he 
 laid his hands on her shoulders. 
 
 "Lady Bobs, ye may be settin' yer feet on 
 the path to destruction," he said gravely. 
 
 "Then I'll tread it gladly." 
 
 Brooks entered, ushering in Mildred Dow- 
 ner and Ted Carter. Just for a second Lady 
 Trask looked at them and did not see them. 
 But they saw Captain O'Toole's hands drop 
 from her shoulders. The Irishman recovered 
 first. 
 
 "Ah, Lady Bobs, here are some other strag- 
 glers hunting belated tea." 
 
 Miss Downer's direct glance went from one 
 to the other of them swiftly. 
 
 "I'm afraid we intrude," she said. 
 
 "Not at all. How are you?" said Lady 
 Bobs, forcing herself to give attention. 
 
 "Well. I met Mr. Carter on the doorstep." 
 
 "How do, Teddy?" smiled Lady Bobs. 
 
 He clung to her hand like a grateful puppy. 
 
 "Just came in to say good-bye," he said. 
 
 "You're off?" 
 
 "Yes. Orders came at noon to-day. I go 
 to-night." 
 
 "Good news, isn't it?" said Miss Downer. 
 
 "Rather," grinned the boy.
 
 56 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "When is your leave up, Captain O'Toole?" 
 she inquired. 
 
 "I wish you'd ask the War Office," he 
 smiled. 
 
 "Do you want tea?" asked Lady Bobs. 
 
 "I've had mine," said Mildred. 
 
 "And I mine," echoed the Captain. 
 
 "None for me, I hate the stuff," said Carter. 
 
 He deliberately attached himself to Lady 
 Bobs, leaving the Irishman to Mildred. 
 
 "You haven't paid any attention to me for 
 weeks," he complained. 
 
 "Haven't I, Teddy?" she smiled, with an 
 attempt at lightness. 
 
 "No, and right now, when I've come to say 
 good-bye, you wish I were in Halifax." 
 
 "That isn't true," she replied. 
 
 "Is it O'Toole you care for?" he demanded. 
 
 "What foolishness, Teddy." 
 
 "Why does he stand with his hands on your 
 shoulders, like your lover?" 
 
 "He was, in fact, giving me disinterested 
 and fatherly advice." 
 
 He shrugged his impatient disbelief, and 
 turned to mark that O'Toole was showing Mil- 
 dred some war cartoons at the other end of the 
 room.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 57 
 
 "Maybe I shan't see you again," said the 
 boy. 
 
 "I won't believe that, Teddy." 
 
 "I've got a hunch, I'll get mine, this go." 
 
 She laid a hand on his arm. 
 
 "Don't." 
 
 "Would you care?" 
 
 "Of course I'd care." 
 
 "You'd say that to any poor devil, who was 
 going out!" he cried. "You mean everything 
 to me. I love you so that I have to lock my 
 mind against you when I fly, for fear I'll 
 forget what I'm doing. The last fall was be- 
 cause I forgot." 
 
 That roused her. 
 
 "Oh, Teddy, dear, it mustn't be like that!" 
 
 "I know, but it is. I've felt a dirty cad, com- 
 ing here to Sir Ashton's house and seeing you, 
 but I've never said a word, and I wouldn't now, 
 if it wasn't for the hunch." 
 
 "Don't go, Teddy, don't go back," she said 
 impulsively. 
 
 "I've got to go. You see, there's Eng- 
 land " 
 
 "But England isn't your mother country." 
 
 "No, but she's my grandmother. If my own 
 country won't come in, why then, by God, I'll
 
 58 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 fight with the next best. We've got this job 
 to do, you know. I like to think I'm doing it 
 for you." 
 
 Larry and Mildred came toward them. The 
 boy gave an angry exclamation. 
 
 "The extraordinary thing to me is, how do 
 they run their spy system?" Mildred was say- 
 ing. 
 
 "Seems to be a good one," agreed Larry. 
 
 "I saw Arnold Gregg yesterday, invalided 
 home from the Somme front. He told me that 
 our men had a certain new method of attack 
 that was working fine, and all of a sudden the 
 Boche got on to it. I had reason to be inter- 
 ested and I asked him what was the date that 
 the Boche got on to it, and it was the day after 
 that luncheon here, when Kendrick came, and 
 Sir Ashton showed us the diagram '' 
 
 "Diagram?" said Lady Bobs. 
 
 "Don't you remember? He started to draw 
 it on the tablecloth and Lord Kendrick stopped 
 him." 
 
 "My good St. Patrick, do ye suppose we 
 had a spy among us? Lady Bobs, are ye sure 
 av the Duchess?" demanded O'Toole. 
 
 They all laughed at that, but Lady Bobs' 
 heart beat in her throat.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 59 
 
 Sir Ashton came in at the moment, with the 
 Duchess. 
 
 "I picked Ashton up on the street, and 
 brought him home. No, I won't sit down, 
 thanks. I'm cross as an old crow and I'm 
 going home to vent it on the Duke." 
 
 "What's the trouble, Duchess?" asked Bobs. 
 
 "Trouble? England's the trouble. We're 
 a muddlin', half-hearted lot. We fight like a 
 lot of old ladies ! We listen to labour, we dilly 
 and we dally, and look at us. We should have 
 crushed these Huns and been through with it, 
 in three months." 
 
 "Oh, Duchess, not three months! There 
 would never have been any fun in three 
 months," protested Carter. 
 
 "This is not a Bank Holiday organised for 
 your sole amusement, young man. If that 
 country of yours was where she should be, she 
 would be fighting shoulder to shoulder with us 
 at this moment." 
 
 She went on scolding them. O'Toole and 
 Lady Bobs drew an infinitesimal place outside 
 her circle. 
 
 "We must not be seen talking alone together 
 hereafter," he said in a normal conversational 
 tone.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Are we to meet somewhere?" she asked, 
 following his lead. 
 
 "Never. We must be like this always. If 
 you speak in a natural voice no one pays atten- 
 tion." 
 
 "I must have a word. Stay on after the 
 others go. I'll manage Ashton somehow " 
 
 He turned back to the others. 
 
 Carter came to Lady Bobs' side. 
 
 "May I have a few moments alone with you, 
 before I go?" 
 
 She looked troubled. 
 
 "Oh, never mind," he said. 
 
 "Yes, yes, of course, Ted. I'll go to the door 
 with you, and we'll have a moment or two " 
 
 He went to Sir Ashton. 
 
 "Good-bye, Sir Ashton, I'm off to-night." 
 
 "Are you, my boy? Good luck to you," said 
 the older man with a firm handclasp. 
 
 Carter bowed before the Duchess, who gave 
 him her hand. 
 
 "Good-bye. I'm proud of you, and I apolo- 
 gise for abusin' your country." 
 
 "Thanks. I won't hold it against you." 
 
 He shook hands with Miss Downer and 
 O'Toole. Lady Bobs laid her hand on his arm, 
 and walked with him out of the room.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 61 
 
 "That boy is scandalously in love with 
 Roberta, Ashton," remarked the Duchess. 
 
 "Poor lad can you blame him?" he smiled 
 at her. 
 
 But when Lady Bobs came back his quick 
 tender glance swept her face. The Duchess 
 ordered them all to go home because Roberta 
 looked tired, and they drifted toward the hall. 
 Ashton, the Duchess and Mildred Downer 
 walked together. O'Toole sauntered behind 
 with Roberta. Once Mildred Downer looked 
 back at them. 
 
 "Larry, I'll make my plans to leave to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "Leave?" 
 
 "Certainly. I cannot stay here, in Ashton's 
 house." 
 
 "My dear, They'll require that of you." 
 
 "Oh, no !" she cried, off guard. 
 
 "Take care ! . . . That is why you are valu- 
 able to Them. It is your position here, your 
 sure sources of information that They want." 
 
 "Oh, but it's too hideous 
 
 "You are committed now." 
 
 "Suppose I refuse?" 
 
 "Too late." 
 
 "You mean They would ruin me?"
 
 62 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Without a doubt." 
 
 The others would be at the door now, in a 
 minute. She drew a deep breath, and said 
 slowly: 
 
 "Very well, the die is cast. What am I to 
 do?" 
 
 "Bobs, my dear, the Duchess is going," said 
 Sir Ashton. 
 
 With a smile at O'Toole, Lady Bobs joined 
 her guests.
 
 PART TWO 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE night and day which followed Lady 
 Trask's interview with Captain O'Toole were 
 so full of conflicting emotions that the second 
 night found her nerves at the breaking point. 
 One moment she was hot with fury at herself 
 that she had walked into a trap, during the 
 half hysterical trance when her grandfather 
 had appeared to her : the next moment she was 
 glad the matter was settled once and for all. 
 She saw her decision as inevitable irrevocable. 
 
 But when her mind came back to the neces- 
 sity of staying on in her husband's house, play- 
 ing him false that thought flagellated her. 
 And yet, what constituted the treachery? Ash- 
 ton served his country, she served hers, why 
 should an equal devotion alter their personal 
 relations so deeply? If she were a Catholic, 
 and Ashton a Protestant, each serving his own 
 church, although they were enemies, this diver- 
 gence of creeds would not forbid their living 
 
 65
 
 66 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 together. Why did the world lay such furious 
 stress upon "patriotism"? What did the word 
 mean? She found herself in a position now, 
 where, if she stayed on, she was disloyal to 
 Ashton, if she disobeyed Them, and left, she 
 brought ruin on them both. 
 
 No orders or messages came during the 
 forty-eight hours subsequent to her talk with 
 O'Toole, so in order to escape for a little 
 from Ashton and her intimate friends, she had 
 a bag packed, and went off to their country 
 place, leaving word for her husband that she 
 had acted upon an impulse, and run away for 
 a sniff of spring in the country. 
 
 "Ah, Lady Trask, Ma'am, ye look as if ye 
 was in sore need of the country," said old Mrs. 
 Mallory, the housekeeper, when she arrived at 
 Trask Hall. 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Mallory, I am. I need a good 
 dose of fresh air and quiet, and growing 
 things." 
 
 "The garden do be lovely, Ma'am. Mallory 
 says it's wunnerful growin' weather now. Will 
 ye have your lunch on the terrace, Ma'am?" 
 
 "I will, thanks." 
 
 "I hope Sir Ashton is well, Ma'am." 
 
 "He's terribly overworked."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 67 
 
 " 'Tis dreadful times we be livin' thru, Lady 
 Trask." 
 
 Lady Trask nodded, looking off over the 
 gardens. 
 
 "And earth keeps up its terrible composure," 
 she said softly. 
 
 "When ye think of all the dyin', over there 
 in France, an* the sufferin' here at home, ye'd 
 think they'd had enuff by now," the old woman 
 ran on. 
 
 "They have, Mallory. But this war is like 
 a huge magnetised ball, that rolls and rolls, 
 and clutches men and nations to it by irresisti- 
 ble force. No one can stop it " 
 
 "Mr. Lloyd George can, can't he?" 
 
 "It seems not. Let's make a compact not 
 to speak of the war while I'm here. I want a 
 vacation from it." 
 
 "All right, Lady Trask. We don't speak of 
 it much, Mallory an' me. We got no sons to 
 go, an' things is about the same down here." 
 
 "Yes, thank God, they seem the same down 
 here," said Lady Trask fervently. 
 
 She gave herself up to this illusion with pas- 
 sion. She sank deep into the lap of Surrey, and 
 emptied her mind of everything save the event 
 of the minute. The first day she tramped with
 
 68 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 her dogs, and later rode for hours across the 
 peaceful country. No wonder poets sang of 
 this lovely England, no wonder soldiers died 
 with her name on their lips. Loyalty to the 
 beauty of England, she understood that. 
 
 The second day she made a friend. She 
 was pottering about the garden, with old Mal- 
 lory, when a very small, very red-cheeked 
 youngster of three joined them. 
 
 "Good morning," said Lady Trask to the 
 intruder. 
 
 He smiled engagingly. He displayed an old 
 lard bucket and a battered spoon. 
 
 "That's Hughie, the chuffer's boy," ex- 
 plained Mallory. 
 
 "Dig?" said Hughie. 
 
 Lady Trask nodded, and showed him a safe 
 place for his operations. He began with vigour 
 to make the dirt fly. Old Mallory laughed at 
 him and went on with his work, singing in a 
 cracked voice a tune which he seemed never to 
 complete. The sun was warm on their backs, 
 the garden was sweet and still. The old man 
 and the tiny man were soothing companions. 
 Lady Bobs almost forgot. 
 
 "Hughie dig deep, d-e-e-p hole," bragged 
 the infant.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Lady Bobs inspected it. She tossed in two 
 or three lumps of dirt. 
 
 "There are my troubles, Hughie. Bury 
 them deep for me." 
 
 "Lady plant flowers?" inquired Hughie. 
 
 "Do you suppose troubles do blossom into 
 flowers, Hughie?" 
 
 Hughie considered it, but came to no conclu- 
 sion. 
 
 "Hughie plant all nice," he promised, put- 
 ting back the earth, and patting down with a 
 chubby fist. 
 
 "Mallory, doesn't your back get tired?" 
 Lady Bobs demanded after a while. 
 
 "No, Lady Trask. My old back has been 
 bent over these beds for thirty year. It's 
 standin' up straight that tires my back!" he 
 chuckled. "You an' Hughie better set down 
 in the shade, an' rest yourselves." 
 
 Hughie accepted the invitation and they 
 made some botanical investigations under a 
 nearby tree. They watched a bird, and inves- 
 tigated an ant hill. Hughie could not be 
 called fluent in conversation, but he was ap- 
 preciative. His smile was ready, his attention 
 was rapt. There was something very restful 
 about Hughie. Lady Bobs caught herself
 
 70 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 wishing that she might have had a son of her 
 own, but as memory thrust at her the face of 
 her present, she shuddered away from the 
 thought of a child. She concentrated again on 
 the sunny garden. 
 
 "My mon, John, what can the matter be?" 
 wheezed the eternal question of old Mallory. 
 
 "What is the next line, Mallory?" she asked 
 idly. 
 
 "I dunno, Lady Trask. Hughie he can sing 
 it. Sing 'My mon, John,' Hughie," he or- 
 dered. 
 
 So Hughie lifted voice in an unintelligible 
 jargon, but in the true spirit of song: 
 
 "Ma mon, Jawn, wot can'a matta be, 
 At I sd'luve lady fair, an she sd'nowt luv 
 
 Several days came and went, days spent in 
 the open, with these two pleasant comrades. 
 Nothing happened. Lady Bobs slept at night, 
 she enjoyed her meals. Surely this was truth, 
 the outer world of war, and death and intrigue 
 was the dream. The week slipped by, and Fri- 
 day brought Ashton and Lord Kendrick to 
 spend the week end. The sight of her husband
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 71 
 
 brought back the old misery, and his pleasure 
 in her improved health and colour, intensified 
 it. As for Lord Kendrick, his coming sur- 
 prised her as much as it pleased her. 
 
 "I hope you were not misled this time," she 
 challenged him. "You knew that I was here?" 
 
 "I believe Trask did mention it," he replied. 
 
 "No," she laughed, "I did not think you came 
 on my account!" 
 
 "I came to talk over important matters with 
 your husband," he answered simply. 
 
 "Will you take time to look at my garden?" 
 
 * 'Certainly. Gardens interest me. ' ' 
 
 She left them to their own devices, after this 
 broad hint from her guest. But he came upon 
 her, the next day, down on her knees, grubbing 
 away, with Hughie in attendance. He stood 
 looking down at her for several seconds, but 
 she merely nodded and went on with her work. 
 
 "That's good," he said. "Hello, Boy, who 
 are you?" 
 
 "Hughie go away." 
 
 Lady Bobs laughed. 
 
 "Hughie has a frankness akin to your own." 
 
 "Who is Hughie?" 
 
 "I don't know exactly. It seems to be a 
 generic term. He's very comfortable is
 
 72 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Hughie, like a collie pup, only less bother." 
 
 He smiled at that. 
 
 "Let me show you a quicker and a better way 
 to do that," he said, and knelt beside her. 
 
 "That's your secret, isn't it? You always 
 know a quicker and a better way," she re- 
 marked. 
 
 He proceeded with the demonstration. He 
 instructed her and included Hughie in the 
 process. Presently they were all working hap- 
 pily, silently. Lady Bobs glanced occasionally 
 at the strong brown hands which worked so 
 deftly at the roots of things. 
 
 "You look almost benevolent," she teased 
 him. He ignored that. He called Hughie to 
 see something he had unearthed, and knelt with 
 his arm about the boy, as he explained it. The 
 man was big and kind and elemental. How 
 could he be at the same time, as ruthless as she 
 knew him to be ? It was the sheer power of him 
 that fired her imagination. 
 
 Lord Kendrick summoned Mallory for a 
 consultation in regard to a certain bug which 
 nibbled plants that spring. He agreed to send 
 him a solution for a spray. 
 
 "Eternal struggle in gardens," she said.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 73 
 
 "Eternal struggle in the universe," he 
 amended. 
 
 "It must be." 
 
 "Certainly. Star against star, planet against 
 planet, animal against animal, man against 
 man. How else would the fit survive?" 
 
 She made a sound of agreement that caught 
 his attention. 
 
 "What kind of woman are you?" he asked. 
 
 "I'm the kind of woman that you are a man." 
 
 "You think you know what kind I am?" 
 
 "Certainly. I belong to your kind." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Conqueror!" 
 
 "So?" 
 
 "Decide what you believe to be the ultimate 
 good, for your country, for the race, perhaps 
 for the world. Then march toward it. Kill, 
 conquer, take ruthless, if you like, but in the 
 end, victorious. That's your creed, and mine." 
 
 He stared at her intently, and she gave him 
 back his look. 
 
 "I've known one, maybe two women like 
 that, in savage tribes." 
 
 "I belong to a savage tribe." 
 
 "Indians, eh? Chippewa- Apache?" 
 
 "Who knows. I've reverted, that's all."
 
 74 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 She went back to her grubbing and he fol- 
 lowed suit. But they both knew that some- 
 thing had happened between them. 
 
 He rather avoided her after that. It was as 
 if she had scaled his wall, invaded his tent, he 
 tried to push her out. He wanted none of 
 her. She knew perfectly what was in his mind, 
 but she no longer resented it. He would not 
 acknowledge it, but he was flying a danger sig- 
 nal. He did not know, as she did, that she was 
 already upon the rocks of destruction, that she 
 need not heed his warning. He protected him- 
 self with Sir Ashton, but when he thought her 
 unaware of him, he looked at her all the time. 
 If she lifted swift, comprehending eyes to him, 
 he looked away, angrily. 
 
 Sunday brought Cecily Harrison and her 
 newest cavalier, the poet Languedoc. They 
 motored from the Harrisons' place unan- 
 nounced, for luncheon. 
 
 "You remember Basil Languedoc, Bobs? 
 Well, well, if it isn't the gruff griffin!" she 
 smiled, into Kendrick's frankly annoyed face. 
 "I won't talk to you," she soothed him, "I 
 won't even look at you." 
 
 "Thanks," said he.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 75 
 
 He shook hands with Languedoc, with an 
 expression of amused pity. 
 
 "I'm very much indebted to you, Lord Ken- 
 drick," said the poet. 
 
 "I wonder if you are!" 
 
 The great man took refuge with his host, 
 while the others chatted and laughed. 
 
 "It is very beautiful here," said Languedoc. 
 "Beauty is the one thing war cannot destroy." 
 
 "It destroys Venice," protested Lady Ce- 
 cily. 
 
 "Nothing can destroy Venice. Venice is 
 the dream of all the ages. If a Doge's Palace, 
 if St. Marks is bombed, then the genius of all 
 the world must dream it again, greater, truer, 
 nearer perfection." 
 
 "We must dream the whole shattered world 
 so," said Lady Cecily earnestly. 
 
 Sir Ashton led his unwilling guest back to 
 the terrace where the others sat. 
 
 "That is the whole question. Who will 
 dream it nearer the true perfection, Teuton or 
 Anglo-Saxon?" Lady Bobs said. 
 
 "You haven't any doubt, have you?" the 
 poet inquired. 
 
 "I'm not so sure as the rest of you are, that
 
 76 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 truth, wisdom and uprightness lie with our race 
 alone." 
 
 "Is my unruly wife attacking the Angles 
 again?" smiled Sir Ashton. "True American 
 though she is, she takes a delight in belittling 
 our race." 
 
 "I don't belittle the race. I belittle the race's 
 vanity. I question the effectiveness of a de- 
 mocracy. I dislike muddled thinking, half- 
 baked idealism. I abhor doing the selfish 
 thing, under the guise of great altruism, as 
 England and America so often do. I have 
 more respect for silent, ruthless grabbers, my- 
 self." 
 
 "Prussian, for instance," suggested Ken- 
 drick coldly. 
 
 "Prussian isn't a system, or a country it's 
 a state of mind. You are Prussian," she chal- 
 lenged him. 
 
 "Oh, my dear Roberta!" protested Ashton. 
 
 "Certainly he is. I've read my history. He 
 has spent his life taking what he thought good 
 for England. He has taken it ruthlessly, si- 
 lently, often cruelly, that is why he is a great 
 man. I say he has done well." 
 
 "Even if he is an Angle," laughed Ashton. 
 "Roberta, dear, these good friends may mis-
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 77 
 
 understand you. She shares the belief of many 
 people that democracies are too undisciplined. 
 It may be one of the lessons of this war, that 
 our democractic governments must be reor- 
 ganised." 
 
 "The Germans are disciplined, and look at 
 the result," said Kendrick. "The danger to 
 the world of that autocracy lies here, that it has 
 taken away from its disciplined masses the 
 power to make their laws and choose their 
 rulers." 
 
 "But England refuses several hundred mil- 
 lion individuals, of every colour and race and 
 religion, the right to make their laws and 
 choose their rulers. England does not count 
 herself a menace to the world. No, my dears, 
 we, in England, grab two entire continents and 
 part of a third, protesting that it is for the 
 good of the world at large. The enemy grabs 
 without oratory," she laughed. "If grabbing 
 is wrong, isn't it wrong for everybody?" 
 
 "If you had ever seen a Malayan prison, if 
 you had ever gone among aboriginal tribes as 
 I have, if you knew the wrong and oppression 
 of tyrants of their own race, you'd know that 
 England civilises where she conquers," Lord 
 Kendrick said.
 
 78 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I don't doubt that for one minute. You 
 said a moment ago that good government could 
 never be adequate substitute for self-govern- 
 ment, and I agree with your statement. I 
 even go so far as to say that if that is true for 
 the German autocracy, it is equally true for 
 the English and American democracies. 
 America is true child of England, you know. 
 She grabs and orates, too." 
 
 "What am I going to do with her?" begged 
 Sir Ashton. 
 
 "You ought to send her to the House of 
 Lords, and let her talk," laughed Cecily. 
 
 "Thanks, I '11 choose my own tomb," pro- 
 tested Lady Bobs. 
 
 "We cannot measure nations by their deeds 
 alone, any more than we can in the case of in- 
 dividuals," said the poet. "England civilises 
 where she goes: America dreamed a great 
 dream of a free country, a harbour for the op- 
 pressed. She has made a great governmental 
 experiment, run for the people and by the 
 people. She has tested and proved a whole 
 new set of principles " 
 
 "I wish she'd hurry and fight for them," 
 grumbled Lord Kendrick. "If she don't, she'll 
 lose them."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 79 
 
 "Oh, but she will fight," cried Languedoc. 
 "She's thousands of miles away, she's slow to 
 anger, but when America sees this, as a war 
 for human liberty, she will sweep into Europe, 
 an army with banners." 
 
 "Hear him, Bobs. Isn't he a proper spokes- 
 man for your country?" said Lady Harrison. 
 
 "He is," admitted Bobs smilingly; "no 
 American could do better, not even Teddy 
 Carter." 
 
 "I suppose most of us think of the faults of 
 England or America, as we do of the faults of 
 our mothers," said Sir Ashton. "We may be 
 aware of them, but we do not get excited over 
 them, as people outside the family may. I 
 think the world has fallen into ruins, because 
 we have all our values wrong. Not only here 
 in England, but all over the whole world. We 
 put the emphasis upon systems and things, not 
 on the human individual. We must scrap a 
 good part of what we have accumulated, and 
 begin again. I disagree with Roberta, because 
 I feel that we must build on greater freedom, 
 not on less, as a foundation. We must make 
 a world with human welfare as the standard. 
 England and America will see this need, be- 
 cause it is part of the vision they both saw,
 
 80 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 before they got off on the wrong track. If 
 freedom and self-government for their colonies 
 is the next step, they will take it. If they are, 
 as we believe, the forward looking nations of 
 the earth, they will not hesitate." 
 
 Sir Ashton paused a moment, and turned 
 his earnest face toward his wife. 
 
 "You see, dear, it really is like the belief you 
 have in the basic goodness and understanding 
 of your mother." 
 
 "Perhaps it is because I cannot remember 
 my mother that I am so Philistine," she an- 
 swered him, with equal earnestness. 
 
 "Oh, Ashton, don't convert her," begged Ce- 
 cily. "It is so nice to know somebody who 
 still says 'German' and 'Prussian' right out 
 loud with no apology, like Bobs. I've adopted 
 it, myself. I go round now, telling everybody 
 I am pro-German. It makes an awful splash." 
 
 "Cecily, your love of a splash will get you 
 into trouble one of these days," Sir Ashton 
 warned her. 
 
 A servant came across the terrace, with a 
 note for Bobs. 
 
 "By messenger, Lady Trask. He did not 
 wait for an answer. Luncheon is served, 
 Madam."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 81 
 
 Lady Bobs took the envelope. She knew 
 what it contained. 
 
 "Come along, friends, and have some food. 
 Let us forget our national troubles. The sun 
 shines, and there is to-day," Bobs said, leading 
 the way, with Lord Kendrick. 
 
 "A truce, a truce," she smiled at him, as she 
 tucked the unopened message into the lace at 
 her breast.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE dreaded orders had come. She was 
 directed to get from Lord Kendrick certain 
 facts in regard to tactics in the Somme region, 
 and report at once. It had been impossible to 
 arrange for a word alone with her guest, and 
 obviously out of the question to extract even 
 an opinion from him, in general conversation. 
 So Lady Bobs went back to town and sought 
 counsel from O'Toole. 
 
 He came at once to see her, apparently by 
 accident, at Lady Harrison's. She explained 
 to him the utter folly of trying to get any in- 
 formation from Lord Kendrick. She knew the 
 man. It was useless to try, as well as danger- 
 ous. 
 
 "My dear lady," said O'Toole, "you will 
 soon be learnin' that our present masters never 
 heard that word 'impossible.' It doesn't exist 
 in their language. When They order a thing 
 done, it is done. If They have asked that in- 
 formation, ye must get ut. If not through the 
 silent Kendrick, through some other reliable 
 
 82
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 83 
 
 authority. My advice is, waste no toime sayin' 
 it can't be done just go ahead an' do it." 
 
 They were interrupted at this point and it 
 was not until somewhat later that he drifted 
 to her side again. 
 
 "We must be careful about meetin'," he 
 warned her. 
 
 "I think the less careful we are, the better. 
 You might develop a sudden passion for my 
 society, Larry. My flirtatious past, and yours, 
 would prove an alibi." 
 
 "Delighted," he smiled. 
 
 "I shall not hold you strictly to account in 
 matters amorous, but your reputation as Lo- 
 thario will help us." 
 
 "The affair is on!" he grinned. 
 
 In the weeks that followed, the flirtation of 
 Lady Bobs and Larry O'Toole amused all 
 their intimates, and set some tongues a-clacking 
 outside their own group. 
 
 "What is this boy and girl affair, Bobs? 
 You'd think you and Larry were seventeen." 
 
 "Takes an Irishman to rejuvenate you," 
 nodded Lady Bobs. "Love with a brogue is 
 delicious." 
 
 "I shall dismiss the Languedoc and get me
 
 84 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 an Irishman. Basil is too lyric. I need a 
 Celtic renaissance, myself." 
 
 "Yours is the international soul we hear so 
 much about, Cecily," laughed Lady Bobs. 
 
 Tea and banter and laughter camouflaged 
 much serious planning between Lady Bobs and 
 her cavalier. The information about the 
 Somme front she obtained and forwarded. 
 They worked together on most of their "assign- 
 ments," as they called them. 
 
 Lady Trask's connections branched in every 
 direction. She knew the Americans who lived 
 in London, she met those of importance who 
 came there on business, or pleasure. Fre- 
 quently she was able to shed light on English 
 and American diplomatic relations which was 
 very helpful to Konigstrasse. 
 
 She hated with every fibre of her being the 
 equivocal position she was in, but having 
 walked into it of her own volition, she hard- 
 ened herself and went ahead, in what she be- 
 lieved to be her highest duty. 
 
 One day as she was walking home, she met 
 Mildred Downer, who fell in step beside her. 
 
 "Where have you been hiding, Mildred? 
 We haven't seen you for ages," Lady Trask 
 said to her.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 85 
 
 "Oh, I've been about," the girl answered 
 evasively. 
 
 "Busy, I suppose." 
 
 "Awf ly. What are you doing with your- 
 self?" 
 
 "The usual things. Odd how we get ad- 
 justed to war, as if it were our natural state." 
 
 "Yes, queer nation, we are. They say we're 
 not adaptable, but look at us. Wonderful, I 
 call it." 
 
 Lady Trask made some reply, but the girl 
 broke in on it. 
 
 "I have been wanting to see you." 
 
 "I've asked you to dinner twice," Lady 
 Trask reminded her. 
 
 "I know," uncomfortably. 
 
 "Why didn't you come?" 
 
 "I couldn't." 
 
 "You mean you were engaged both nights?" 
 
 "No. I cannot endure some one who was 
 sure to be there!" 
 
 "How ridiculous! Who was it?" 
 
 "Captain O'Toole." 
 
 "You dislike Larry? You unnatural wo- 
 man! I didn't suppose it could be done." 
 
 The girl's ugly face flushed. 
 
 "I think he's a sneak and a bounder,"
 
 86 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Really, Mildred, he is a friend, you 
 know " 
 
 "That's why it is so difficult. Because I 
 like you better than any woman in London," 
 she added miserably. 
 
 Lady Trask turned an amused glance upon 
 her, but the real feeling in Miss Downer's 
 face stopped her. 
 
 "Thank you, Mildred. Because you like 
 me, is no reason for your liking all my friends. 
 I'm sorry Captain O'Toole keeps you from 
 coming to us, for Ashton and I are both fond 
 of you." 
 
 "Do you know about Captain O'Toole?" 
 Mildred asked. 
 
 Lady Trask looked at her quickly. 
 
 "Know what about him?" 
 
 "He keeps a mistress." 
 
 "Does he?" 
 
 "He makes love to you in public " 
 
 Lady Trask flushed. 
 
 "My dear Mildred, nobody takes the Irish 
 seriously, except the Irish 1 Larry O'Toole 
 and I amuse each other. He makes love as a 
 baby cries, or a bird sings. It's his native 
 speech." 
 
 "Oh, I know you don't care anything about
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 87 
 
 him. It's just that I cannot bear to have him 
 make you ridiculous," Mildred protested. 
 
 "My child, you're the only person he is mak- 
 ing ridiculous. Put poor Larry out of your 
 mind. His fascinations will not be fatal to me, 
 I assure you." 
 
 "I'm not so sure." 
 
 Again Lady Trask glanced at her. 
 
 "Why do you hate him so?" she inquired. 
 
 "I hate palaver. I distrust all of his coun- 
 trymen, but him in particular." 
 
 "He hasn't given you any specific cause to 
 hate him?" 
 
 "He has offered me his insulting homage, as 
 he does all women " 
 
 "Pooh, where's your sense of humour? For- 
 get him." 
 
 "I wish I could!" exclaimed Mildred Dow- 
 ner passionately, and with a hasty farewell she 
 turned and walked away. 
 
 Lady Trask looked after her in sheer amaze- 
 ment. Later the talk recurred to her, and she 
 spoke to Larry about it. He laughed. 
 
 "It might prove serious, Larry. What did 
 you do to her?" 
 
 "I courted her, at a dull house party, and 
 kissed her on the stairs."
 
 88 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "It must have been dull! Did she mind?" 
 
 "She did. She took me seriously." 
 
 "Larry!" 
 
 "I had to tell her the plain truth, poor soul. 
 She's got no sense of humour." 
 
 "Make no mistake, you have an enemy there, 
 and she is no fool." 
 
 "I'd rather have her as an enemy than have 
 to kiss her again." 
 
 "What did you do it for?" 
 
 "Experiment. She looked so unkissed." 
 
 "For a clever man, you're stupid some- 
 times." 
 
 He shrugged impatient shoulders. 
 
 "Even clever women fall into that blunder. 
 Let's drop Miss Downer and talk of some- 
 thing interesting." 
 
 As the Captain was leaving, he met Sir 
 Ashton at the door. When the Irishman had 
 gone, Trask came quickly across the room to 
 Roberta and put his arms about her. 
 
 "Ashton?" she said, surprised. 
 
 "Dearest, I want to say something that is 
 in my mind. You will not misunderstand if 
 your heart beats against mine." 
 
 She stood still in his embrace. 
 
 "Is it about Larry?"
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 89 
 
 "Do you find him so amusing that you can- 
 not do with less of his society?" 
 
 "You think I see too much of him, Ashton?" 
 
 "It is what other people think, dear, who do 
 not know you as I do." 
 
 "Do they matter?" 
 
 "I think your dignity and fineness matter. 
 I cannot bear to have your name rolled over on 
 many tongues." 
 
 She freed herself from his arms, but he drew 
 her back with tenderness. 
 
 "Roberta, if I could only fill your whole 
 heart and mind as you do mine." 
 
 "Ashton, please " she said, in protest. "I 
 
 will, of course, see less of Larry, if you object." 
 
 "Don't put it so 'if I object' I merely 
 call your attention to the fact that people talk, 
 and I leave the matter to your own good taste, 
 my dear." 
 
 "Thank you," she said. Then, that she 
 might not pour out to him the whole wretched 
 story, she turned and left the room without a 
 word. 
 
 Sir Ashton watched her go with a sigh. The 
 slight frown that creased his forehead deep- 
 ened. There was in Sir Ashton Trask a deep, 
 instinctive reverence for women. He had no
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 understanding of the modern free and easy 
 relationship between men and women. While 
 he was in no way so old-fashioned that he in- 
 sisted upon a pedestal for "the sex," his mo- 
 dernity wanted to add to all the old courtesies 
 and tenderness, natural toward women, the 
 new mental companionshp. 
 
 He marked with dismay the younger gener- 
 ation's desire to take full advantage of the 
 comradeship, but to be excused from all the 
 old observances, which had been the perqui- 
 sites of what they now scornfully referred to as 
 "chivalry." He saw that women, even so fine 
 a woman as his wife, did not resent this, but 
 rather encouraged it. 
 
 It may be, that when reverence for women 
 survives in a man of Sir Ashton's type, it 
 means that he has been deeply influenced at 
 some youthful period, by a worshipful woman, 
 a mother perhaps. It was so in his case. His 
 mother had been an unusual woman of strong 
 character and distinguished mentality. Her 
 friendship with her son had been based upon 
 mutual respect and admiration. To the out- 
 sider they might have seemed undemonstrative, 
 but there were fine shades of understanding
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 91 
 
 between them, that needed no words. Theirs 
 was a true oneness of spirit. 
 
 The one great and poignant sorrow of Ash- 
 ton's life had been her death, which happened 
 two years before his marriage. She had given 
 her son the fine inheritance of a courteous 
 mind, and a human sympathy, so broad that 
 it knew no confines. 
 
 He had become philosopher, thinker, almost 
 ascetic, when the beautiful Roberta had so 
 upset his poise. His passion for her, so swift 
 and consuming, was a total surprise to him, 
 overwhelming in its consequences. 
 
 It made of him an irresistible lover. His 
 ardour and his perfect breeding had satisfied 
 two needs in Roberta's nature. She was still 
 a girl when she married him, at twenty-two, a 
 little bewildered by his courtship. 
 
 In the years that followed he never loved 
 her less. He assayed her nature, as the miner 
 does his gold dust. The pure metal he treas- 
 ured, and from the alloy he courteously looked 
 away. 
 
 He came to know that she had known for 
 her background traditions very different from 
 those of his mother, and that her values were 
 consequently often puzzling. He learned that
 
 92 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 he did not fill her imagination as she did his, 
 and while her incurable coquetry troubled him, 
 he did not permit himself to judge her for it. 
 It was something he could not understand, pos- 
 sibly a trait due to her American birth and 
 training he had noticed it in other American 
 women. It was a wound in his heart always, 
 but he never let a hint of it pass his lips or 
 even creep into his eyes. 
 
 It was, then, a special anxiety that had 
 broken his reticence in the matter of Captain 
 O'Toole, and his too obvious admiration. Sir 
 Ashton had an apperception of a certain 
 shadow of distrust which, to his sixth sense, 
 began to settle about Captain O'Toole, as in- 
 distinguishable as a colour spectrum, as inde- 
 finable as an aura.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LADY BOBS warned Captain O'Toole that 
 they were overplaying the comedy of love, 
 since people were talking about it, and they 
 agreed to let their "affair" drop into the back- 
 ground, planning their "casual" meetings 
 more carefully. It interfered somewhat with 
 their work, not to see each other daily, but it 
 was only one of the many and growing difficul- 
 ties which beset their path. 
 
 It so happened that Lady Trask encoun- 
 tered Lord Kendrick several times, quite by 
 accident, during these days which followed his 
 visit to them. On each occasion they spoke to 
 each other a language shorn of trivialities. 
 Lady Bobs felt no voluntary response in him, 
 but rather an instinctive one. She was, as she 
 had said, of his kind. 
 
 He fired her imagination completely, and 
 the thought of him began to dominate her 
 mind. She wanted to break down his reserves, 
 to penetrate his mystery, to see him surge to 
 the full tide of himself.
 
 94 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 She began to deliberately plan to see him. 
 It was easy to inform herself of his probable 
 whereabouts, so long as he stayed in London. 
 She learned what an exhausting proportion of 
 his waking hours he spent in the War Office. 
 He allowed himself no relaxation. Once she 
 met him on the street and he walked with her 
 a little way. She urged him to go away and 
 weed geranium beds. 
 
 "Cannot be done." 
 
 "The life you lead wiU kill you." 
 
 "Why not? That's not the worst that may 
 come to a soldier. You cannot get an army of 
 five million men, out of peaceful England, 
 without effort." 
 
 "Come with us to Surrey for the week-end, 
 or ask us to come with you." 
 
 "You want to see my place?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I'll try to manage it. Can you come on 
 short notice?" 
 
 "Give me ten minutes." 
 
 "Good, no foolishness about you." 
 
 "Oh, yes, there is much," she replied. 
 
 To her surprise and deep satisfaction he 
 summoned them on Saturday and drove them 
 out himself.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 95 
 
 "It will be dull for you. I've asked no one 
 else," he explained to Lady Bobs. 
 
 "I like you better when you assure me that 
 I am incidental a side issue to your war talk 
 with Ashton." 
 
 "Women have to be side issues in war time." 
 
 "What pleasant old-fashioned talk is this?" 
 inquired Sir Ashton. "Women are as impor- 
 tant as men in this war." 
 
 "They only talk more during this war. They 
 have always carried on the civil life while men 
 fight." 
 
 "But civil life has never been so complicated 
 as it is now, Kendrick. This war could not 
 have been fought without our women." 
 
 "You cannot eliminate us from your uni- 
 verse, Lord of Creation. We're just as essen- 
 tial as you are," laughed Roberta. 
 
 "Hm " said he, unconvinced. 
 
 Lord Kendrick's country place was one of 
 his hobbies. He frankly delighted in it, as he 
 did in his geranium beds. Lady Bobs thought 
 that his house expressed him, in its simple, 
 almost military, uprightness, no soft effem- 
 inate trifles here, but always a fine sense of 
 values. The things he had about him were 
 choice.
 
 96 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 They sat long after dinner, talking. Lord 
 Kendrick was at his ease and at his best, as 
 host. He liked Ashton Trask, and his eyes 
 were often upon his beautiful wife. He told 
 of some of his experiences in Egypt. He piled 
 up Arabian Nights adventures for their de- 
 light, as simply as one tells fairy tales to chil- 
 dren. In spite of his modesty, Lady Bobs saw 
 always the dominant central figure, moulding 
 events to his purpose. He was the hero of 
 her thoughts, not this gracious host. 
 
 The next day he showed them his gardens. 
 While Lady Bobs wandered there, her hus- 
 band and their host talked over their many 
 joint problems. At sunset they motored back 
 to town, and for the first time in many weeks 
 Lady Bobs felt at peace. Lord Kendrick 
 drove the car and she sat beside him. She liked 
 to turn and look at him, straight and concen- 
 trated on the task in hand. The road was wet 
 from rain and he gave his full attention to the 
 car and not to her. But she did not mind. 
 
 It seemed to occur to him finally that he was 
 a neglectful host. 
 
 "I'm not much of a cavalier," said he. 
 
 "I prefer the roundhead!" she retorted and 
 was happy at his laugh.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 97 
 
 When he left them at their door, she felt 
 that these two days marked a new era, they 
 were friends now. 
 
 That night she went over every word, every 
 look they had exchanged, like a school girl. 
 Her heart beat at the memory of his smile, 
 even while she told herself that this was folly. 
 
 She induced Ashton to ask Lord Kendrick 
 to dinner once or twice, in the days that fol- 
 lowed, and he came. She knew that he went 
 nowhere else and she tried to find in that fact 
 something for her growing madness to feed 
 upon. 
 
 The nights when he came she spent hours 
 on her toilet. She asked no other women 
 guests, although Cecily and the Duchess be- 
 rated her for it. She guarded her tongue be- 
 cause she knew he disliked chatter. She called 
 up every resource she had into battle line, for 
 deep in her heart she knew that this man 
 stirred her as she had never been stirred be- 
 fore that life could hold nothing for her so 
 wonderful as his capitulation. 
 
 She looked in vain for signs of special inter- 
 est on his part. He looked at her, he listened 
 to her, once in a while he laughed at her, but 
 there was no lingering touch of hands, no
 
 98 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 caress of the eyes to treasure. She was not 
 even sure that he was sufficiently aroused to 
 protect himself against her. 
 
 Into this growing absorption came the sharp 
 and constant rap for attention from Them. 
 They grew greedy of news, and exacting. 
 Sudden and exhausting hot weather descended 
 upon London, and Lady Bobs began to show 
 the terrific strain she was living under. Ash- 
 ton begged her to move into the country but 
 she dared not, lest Konigstrasse order her back 
 to town. 
 
 "Really, Bobs, you may not care about your 
 health, but haven't you any vanity?" de- 
 manded Lady Cecily, who spent an occasional 
 day in town. 
 
 "Am I as bad as that?" 
 
 "You are. You look fifty a haggard 
 fifty." 
 
 "Cecily, you brute!" 
 
 "Is anything the matter, old dear?" 
 
 "Only that 'the world is out of joint.' ' 
 
 "But you weren't 'sent to make it right/ 
 It's out of joint for all of us, but I don't let 
 that interfere with my facial massage." 
 
 Roberta smiled at her. Cecily seemed like 
 a child, laughing in a tornado, while the great
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 99 
 
 forces were swinging her, Roberta, in ever 
 widening circles. 
 
 "Come back with me, Bobs, and spend a 
 week in bed. I'll let you alone." 
 
 "I cannot, dear." 
 
 "But what is there to keep you in this fur- 
 nace?" 
 
 "I keep busy." 
 
 "We work in the country, too. Red Cross 
 and knitting and the rest of it. We're not 
 abandoning England." 
 
 "I feel that I must stay on a little longer. 
 Later I will come, if you will have me, and 
 collapse upon your hospitality." 
 
 Lady Cecily was obliged to abandon her, but 
 she telephoned Ashton her opinion that Ro- 
 berta looked a wreck. She passed on her anx- 
 iety to the Duchess of Wrowe, her neighbour 
 in the country, and she, too, made a visit to 
 Roberta Trask. 
 
 "I've come to take you home with me," she 
 announced. 
 
 "Cecily told you I looked a fright?" 
 
 "She did." 
 
 "She's a cat! She ought to know that the 
 news that you've lost your looks runs faster
 
 100 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 than the news that you've lost your morals," 
 protested Lady Bobs. 
 
 "You can't hide from me behind epigrams, 
 my dear. I'm an old woman and I've gone 
 through nearly everything. I know that peo- 
 ple only look as you do when it's a sickness of 
 the mind. Why not let an old friend share her 
 experience and donate her wisdom?" 
 
 "Thank you, dear Duchess," said Roberta, 
 really touched. "It's only the cosmic sickness, 
 and the heat, I do assure you. I will run away 
 soon. You and Cecily must not worry about 
 me." 
 
 The Duchess shook her head, and patted 
 Lady Bobs' cold hand. 
 
 "How's the amusing Irishman?" 
 
 "Larry? The heat rather melts his wit, I'm 
 afraid." 
 
 "He's still in London?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Very long leave, isn't it?" 
 
 "It seems to be." 
 
 "Too bad we can't have only the dull people 
 sacrificed in the war, and start the new world 
 with the witty ones," said the old woman. 
 
 "Wouldn't a uniformly witty world be dull, 
 Duchess?" objected Roberta.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 101 
 
 So she kept up her guard until her visitor 
 left, but when she was gone she acknowledged 
 to herself how she wished they would let her 
 alone. Larry's phrase "The path to destruc- 
 tion" was often in her mind these days. If her 
 feet were being whirled down that path, she 
 must not drag her friends with her, if she could 
 help it. 
 
 She sat in the half darkened drawing-room, 
 where the Duchess had left her, her hands 
 clasped over her eyes. She did not notice 
 Brooks' entrance, nor grasp his announcement. 
 It was only when she looked up and saw Lord 
 Kendrick standing before her that she came 
 to herself. She did not rise, nor apologise for 
 the attitude of dejection in which he had sur- 
 prised her. A deep flush crept up over her 
 pale face and dyed her neck, that was all. 
 
 "Are you ill?" he asked, without greeting. 
 
 "My mind is ill." 
 
 "What ails it?" 
 
 She made no reply for several seconds. 
 
 "What do you conceive to be the highest 
 human loyalty?" 
 
 "A man's loyalty to his country," he an- 
 swered promptly.
 
 102 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Deeper than his duty to his wife to his 
 mother?" 
 
 "His country is his mother." 
 
 "You'd have him sacrifice his mother to his 
 country?" 
 
 "If need be yes." 
 
 Another silence came upon them, and again 
 she broke it. 
 
 "What is the matter with the world, Lord 
 Kendrick?" 
 
 "Stupidity. Humans always pay for it with 
 blood and tears." 
 
 "Are you sorry for them, when they pay?" 
 
 "Not very. There is no law requiring stu- 
 pidity, you know." 
 
 He wandered across the room, and his voice 
 came out of the shadows like that of an im- 
 placable Fate. 
 
 "You're like the God of the old testament 
 a pitiless god of vengeance. Your name is 
 Baal." 
 
 "Do you prefer a sentimental God, weeping 
 over Israel?" 
 
 She closed her eyes and made no answer. 
 Her heart beat so loud she feared he would 
 hear it. She noted his quick step, now here 
 now there, in the room. He was perturbed.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 103 
 
 He had come to her of his own accord. If she 
 could know one moment of his love, then let 
 his god of vengeance strike ! So absorbed was 
 she in her own imaginings that his voice star- 
 tled her out of the shadows. 
 
 "I came for a special reason." 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "I am sailing at dawn " 
 
 "For France?" 
 
 He ignored the question. 
 
 "It so happened that the last casualty list 
 came to my hands, and I saw a name that I 
 knew would hurt you. I came to tell you " 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "It was Carter, the young American. They 
 downed him, after a brilliant fight on his part. 
 He got his enemy, but he lost his life doing it." 
 
 He waited and she groped in her mind for 
 something to say, because he expected it of 
 her. 
 
 "Teddy Teddy Carter," she repeated stu- 
 pidly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Poor Teddy! He felt this would be his 
 last flight," she said. 
 
 "He came to save me pain, he came to save 
 me pain." Her mind beat it over triumph-
 
 104 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 antly. She forgot Teddy's death in the hap- 
 piness that swept over her. 
 
 "Is that all you have to say?" he demanded. 
 
 He stood over her now, and she looked at 
 him. 
 
 "What do you want me to say?'* 
 
 "This boy loved you. He wore the fact on 
 his face for every one to see " 
 
 "Poor Teddy!" 
 
 Why didn't he let her alone? Why did he 
 pump her mind for words about Teddy Carter? 
 
 "Poor Teddy" he repeated. "That's a fine 
 epitaph for a good soldier from the woman he 
 loved." 
 
 "Why do you bother about him so? I did 
 not want him to love me I did not love him." 
 
 "That needs no saying," scornfully. 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" 
 
 "Your kind never knows love." 
 
 If he had looked at her he might have seen 
 the danger signals, but he did not; he went 
 on: 
 
 "You're all alike, vain, empty-headed pea- 
 cocks, using men for your purposes " 
 
 She laughed at that, with a sound that 
 stopped him.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 105 
 
 "A lecture on passion from a human ma- 
 chine," she taunted him. 
 
 "I've had no time for emotion, but I'm no 
 machine. When my woman comes, if she does 
 come, I'll love her as " 
 
 "You need not tell me how you'll love her 
 I know! It will be like a hurricane that will 
 toss you hither and thither, sweeping every- 
 thing before it. It will lay waste forests and 
 mountain tops. It will be like fire that sears; 
 like thirst in the desert. It will be a scourge, 
 and a blinding light, and a glory !" 
 
 She stood before him now, trembling with 
 the emotion that shook her. 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "Because I am your woman, and I love as 
 you love!" 
 
 "Good God!" he muttered and turned away 
 from her swiftly. 
 
 She waited, and he came back at last. 
 
 "You are very beautiful and very terrible," 
 he said slowly. "You've played at love all 
 your life. You've pinned it, like a ribbon, on 
 this lapel and on that. I know your kind, bat- 
 tening on the love and admiration of men, giv- 
 ing nothing in return. If this passion you
 
 106 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 have played with has turned on you, it is only 
 justice." 
 
 Lady Trask was like an avenging goddess. 
 She surcharged the air about her with her 
 fury. 
 
 "You you pitiless " she cried, inco- 
 herent with passion. 
 
 "I have pity for one person only, for my 
 good friend Ashton Trask, whose honour is in 
 the hands of a wanton woman," he said, and 
 turned and left her swiftly.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AFTER a while Brooks came into the room 
 and aroused her. 
 
 "I beg pardon, Lady Trask, I thought you'd 
 gone," he stammered, staring at her ravaged 
 face. 
 
 She passed him without any answer. She 
 dragged herself to her own rooms and walked 
 back and forth, back and forth, in agony. She 
 was sick from head to foot with fury and 
 humiliation. She felt that her life force, which 
 should have swept on like a majestic river in 
 its pride and beauty, had been dammed within 
 her, a fetid stream now, to poison and destroy. 
 
 What were these forces that were sweeping 
 her? Having flung from her one established 
 loyalty, was she thereby cast loose from all 
 loyalty? Where was her judgment, that she 
 had let her own desires so blind her? How 
 could she have failed to see that the time to 
 speak had not come? 
 
 For a long time she kept her mind running, 
 so that she might not remember what he had 
 
 107
 
 108 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 said to her, how he had despised her. But the 
 words began to pour back upon her brain, like 
 molten lava. "Battening on the love and ad- 
 miration of men, giving nothing in return 
 ... a wanton woman ... a wanton wo- 
 man. . . ." 
 
 She caught sight of her own face as she 
 swept by a mirror, and she stopped to stare 
 at herself. Her face was swollen and out of 
 shape. She looked like a mad woman. 
 
 "Wanton woman . . . wanton woman. . . ." 
 
 What was she to do, living in a world with 
 this man who had insulted and humiliated her? 
 She could not endure that, she would destroy 
 herself rather than meet his eyes again. It 
 would be hard on Ashton, but he was better 
 without her, since "his honour was in the hands 
 of a wanton woman." If only she had had the 
 power to strike Kendrick dead, as he stood 
 there, condemning her, like God ! 
 
 Another thought of death lifted its head, 
 like a serpent in her mind. She turned away 
 from it, shuddering, but it swayed there, twist- 
 ing and turning to focus her attention. 
 
 Suddenly Ashton stood in her sitting-room 
 door and spoke to her. His pleasant, usual
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 109 
 
 voice called her away from the ugliness that 
 threatened her. 
 
 "This is the night I dine at the club, dear. 
 What are you doing with yourself?" he asked 
 her. 
 
 "I have a headache. I shall dine up here 
 and go to bed." 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, coming to bend 
 over her, where she sat, deliberately turning 
 her face away from the light. He touched her 
 hair with his lips, then her cheek. She held 
 herself perfectly rigid, not to scream. "Bobs, 
 there is bad news about young Carter," he 
 added gently. 
 
 "Yes, I know." 
 
 "You saw the list?" surprised. 
 
 "Lord Kendrick came to tell me." 
 
 "Oh, that was kind of him. Did he tell you 
 he was leaving in the morm'ng?" 
 
 "Yes, on the Lancashire." 
 
 "No, the Hartshire," he corrected mechani- 
 cally. "My dear, I should not have said that!" 
 he added quickly. "Forget it, please. What 
 made you think it was the Lancashire?" curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "I must have heard some one say she was 
 sailing "
 
 110 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Did Kendrick tell you the name of the 
 ship?" 
 
 "No. I jumped at the conclusion, I sup- 
 pose. Does it matter?" wearily. 
 
 "Your poor head! Can't I do anything for 
 you?" 
 
 "No, thanks. I need quiet and some sleep." 
 
 "You must go to the country, Roberta, 
 really- 
 
 "All right." 
 
 He kissed her cheek. 
 
 "Go to bed, old dear. I won't disturb you 
 again." 
 
 He went out, closing her door gently. She 
 sat still turning her eyes in upon herself again. 
 The serpent which had lifted its head was still 
 there. It held her with its cold eyes it was 
 golden and beautiful. 
 
 Her maid came to ask her about dinner. She 
 sent her away, saying she wanted no food. 
 Later she heard Ashton tap lightly at her door. 
 She made no answer, so he tip-toed off to keep 
 his engagement. 
 
 Her mind seemed to be working independ- 
 ently of her, now. She took up her telephone 
 and called Captain O'Toole. She knew in 
 advance that he would answer it himself. She
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 111 
 
 urged him to come to her at once. He de- 
 murred about the wisdom of it, but at her in- 
 sistence he finally agreed. She bathed her 
 face, smoothed her hair, and sat waiting until 
 he was announced. 
 
 "I told Captain O'Toole I thought you were 
 out, Lady Trask," said Brooks. 
 
 "I am to any one else. I will see Captain 
 O'Toole for a few moments. When he goes, 
 Brooks, put out the lights." 
 
 "Very well, Madam." 
 
 When she came into the room, Larry took 
 her hand, and stared at her. 
 
 "Lady Bobs, ye beautiful Bobs !" 
 
 "Evening, Larry." 
 
 "How is it ye're all lee alone, woman?" 
 
 "Ashton is at the club. I have a headache." 
 
 "Is it safe for ye to be seein' me here?" 
 
 "Probably not." 
 
 "Another assignment?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Difficult?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Ye want my help?" 
 
 "I've got the facts." 
 
 "Good for ye, ye're a wonder, Lady Bobs."
 
 112 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I've never done Them any service equal to 
 this," she said, dry lipped. 
 
 He looked at her tense face and burning 
 eyes. 
 
 "What is it They're askin' av ye, Mavour- 
 neen?" he asked softly. 
 
 "The name of the ship upon which Kendrick 
 sails at dawn." 
 
 "God!" he exclaimed. "Ye've got it?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "He is your friend and Ashton's. This is a 
 terrible thing They're askin' av ye, now!" 
 
 Still she did not speak, and he continued his 
 scrutiny of her storm-swept face. 
 
 "Lady Bobs, ye're not lovin' the man!" 
 
 "No." She forced her lips to form that one 
 word, and hold back the stream of hate that 
 threatened to follow it. 
 
 "Ye are a wonderful woman, Lady Bobs." 
 He bent his ear to her lips. "Now, tell me the 
 name of the ship." 
 
 "The Hartshire, sailing at dawn," the obe- 
 dient lips repeated. 
 
 He lifted her two hands and pressed his lips 
 to their palms. 
 
 "By God, Bobs, I adore you!" 
 
 "Don't!" she said sharply. "Good night."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 113 
 
 "Ye've done the greatest service yet, in the 
 history of the war. Ye're a great patriot, 
 Roberta Trask." 
 
 He hurried away, and Lady Trask went to 
 lie upon her bed and watch for dawn. 
 
 The next day she went from one thing to 
 the next feverishly. She met Mildred Downer, 
 and asked her to come to dinner, laughingly 
 assuring her that Captain O'Toole would not 
 be there. Lady Cecily called up in the after- 
 noon, saying that she had come to town on an 
 errand and would stay the night, if Bobs would 
 put her up. Lady Trask agreed enthusiasti- 
 cally. Anything to fill up the endless horror 
 of this day. 
 
 She telephoned Ashton to get some tickets 
 to a comic play, and find some men to join them 
 at dinner. His voice was calm, there was evi- 
 dently no news yet. She kept herself occu- 
 pied, her mind locked tight, until it was time 
 to dress. She startled her maid during that 
 process by laughing suddenly. It struck her 
 as funny that she should be giving such atten- 
 tion to her toilet. She stopped as suddenly as 
 she began, because she knew that if she started 
 she would never stop, she would laugh herself 
 to death, or to sheer madness.
 
 114 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 When her guests arrived she scarcely noted 
 what men these were whom Ashton had ob- 
 ligingly provided. They were Cecily and Mil- 
 dred Downer's concern. Lady Bobs, however, 
 was never so the centre of the party. She was 
 more beautiful than any of them had ever 
 known her to be, and her spirits were wilder. 
 She was witty, brilliant, electrical. 
 
 "What's happened to Bobs, Ashton?" 
 Cecily asked him curiously. 
 
 "She is wonderful, isn't she?" 
 
 "But it's feverish, it isn't normal. The 
 woman is ill. She's like a guttering torch." 
 
 "A blaze, I should say." 
 
 "The torch is brightest before it goes out," 
 she warned him. 
 
 "She's a bit overdone, I think. She prom- 
 ised me last night to go to the country." 
 
 "Thank Heaven," she exclaimed with such 
 relief, that he patted her hand affectionately. 
 
 "Good old Cecily." 
 
 "Is Lady Trask always like this?" asked her 
 neighbour of Mildred Downer. "I never saw 
 or heard anything like her." 
 
 "She is marvellous, isn't she?" answered the 
 girl, who scarcely took her eyes off Lady Bobs' 
 glowing face.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 115 
 
 The comic play went on and on. When 
 there was laughter, Lady Trask laughed, but 
 she heard not one word of that silly farce. In 
 the intermissions she took up her leadership, 
 keeping them all in a ripple of laughter. 
 
 Later Ashton proposed supper and they 
 went off to the Savoy. There were several 
 parties of people they knew, so many people 
 were kept in town late by war work. The men 
 from nearby tables visited them. All eyes were 
 on Lady Bobs to-night. 
 
 Half way through supper the major-domo 
 of the dining-room bent over Sir Ashton's 
 shoulder and gave him a message. Trask 
 apologised to his guests and went out hastily. 
 Lady Bobs talked on. Across the room she 
 caught the eye of Captain Larry O'Toole, who 
 nodded and smiled. 
 
 When Sir Ashton came back they all saw 
 that something serious had happened. His 
 face was white, the line between his eyes deep 
 with suffering. 
 
 "There is bad news for England, my friends. 
 Terrible news," he said in a low tone, as he took 
 his seat. "The warship Hartshire has been tor- 
 pedoed or sunk by submarine, off a nearby 
 coast "
 
 116 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Many lost on her?" asked one of the men. 
 
 "They think the biggest man in England 
 was lost on her," replied Ashton, "Lord Ken- 
 drick." 
 
 "No," came the breathless chorus. Lady 
 Bobs gave a sort of exclamation, which no one 
 noticed in the excitement. 
 
 "But that man is necessary to us, he cannot 
 be dead!" cried Mildred Downer. 
 
 "There is one chance in a thousand that he 
 was picked up, but the crew is reported lost." 
 
 "It isn't believable!" said Lady Cecily. 
 "When did you see him last, Ashton?" 
 
 "Several days ago. But Roberta saw him 
 yesterday." 
 
 They all looked at her. 
 
 "Did he tell you he was going to France?" 
 asked Mildred. 
 
 "He told me he was leaving England." 
 
 "Was it chance, or did the Huns know he 
 was on that ship ?" Mildred asked Ashton. 
 
 "We'll never know," he answered. 
 
 "But how could they know the name of the 
 ship ?" said Cecily. "It must have been an ab- 
 solute secret, so much depended on it. How 
 could any one have found out, Ashton?" 
 
 "They could not unless some one in the War
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 117 
 
 Office told," said Sir Ashton, and all at once 
 his eyes rushed to Roberta. She met them 
 steadily, but Mildred Downer, in a flash of 
 intuition, guessed the truth. Lady Trask had 
 known the ship Kendrick sailed on, because 
 Sir Ashton had told her! Mildred's glance 
 slid across the room to Captain O'Toole, who 
 was apparently enjoying his supper. 
 
 "Let's go home this is awful!" said Lady 
 Cecily. 
 
 They rose and made their way toward the 
 door. On the way they passed the table where 
 Larry O'Toole sat, and he rose to intercept 
 them, and say good evening. He was in high 
 spirits. He walked with them toward the 
 foyer, until he had a chance to catch Lady 
 Bobs' attention. He lifted his eyebrows and 
 she nodded. 
 
 "Congratulations," he said to her with a 
 smile.
 
 PART THREE
 
 PART THREE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MILDRED DOWNER spent a perfectly sleep- 
 less night after the supper at the Savoy, where 
 the news of the sinking of the Hartshire was 
 announced, and the ugly certainty had come 
 to her that Roberta Trask knew in advance 
 the name of the ship on which Lord Kendrick 
 went down. 
 
 At first she tried to dismiss the whole thing 
 from her mind. It was not unnatural that Sir 
 Ashton should have told her the fact, by acci- 
 dent, or in confidence. It had no bearing on 
 the ultimate tragedy. Never for an instant 
 did any doubt of Lady Trask's loyalty enter 
 her head. 
 
 But in regard to Lady Trask's intimate 
 friend, Captain O'Toole, she had an accumula- 
 tion of impressions, not yet sufficiently definite 
 to be called suspicions. 
 
 She had begun by hating O'Toole for per- 
 sonal reasons. An ugly woman, unused to any 
 
 121
 
 122 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 amorous attentions from young men, she had 
 mistaken the handsome Captain's attempt 
 pour passer le temps at a dull house party, as 
 a genuine infatuation. Her hurt pride and 
 fury at him when she learned the truth were 
 sufficient groundwork for her hate. In her 
 queer way she cherished a deep admiring devo- 
 tion for Lady Trask. Her beauty, her fascina- 
 tions, her quick wit, these were the supreme 
 gifts to the mind of plain Mildred Downer. 
 It disgusted her to have her ideal waste time 
 with Larry O'Toole. It was partly in the spirit 
 of wishing to save her friend future chagrin 
 that she began her investigations of Larry. 
 
 She had been characteristically thorough in 
 her efforts. She made inquiries about him in 
 the Irish town where he was born. She fol- 
 lowed his record in school and college. She 
 found no disgraceful facts about the handsome 
 Celt, but certain indications of a happy-go- 
 lucky laxity kept her on the trail, until she 
 discovered the mistress in London. This 
 seemed to her sufficient evidence to convince 
 Lady Trask of his undesirability. She was 
 shocked at the apparent indifference of her idol 
 to this revelation. 
 
 It was a little after this interview with Lady
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 123 
 
 Trask that Mildred came upon the fact of 
 O'Toole's connection with the Sinn Feiners. 
 The Casement execution had apparently put 
 an end for the time being to Irish- German 
 intrigue, but the discovery of this revolutionary 
 alliance of his threw some light, she thought, on 
 one or two coincidences, which had come to 
 Miss Downer's attention. There was the mat- 
 ter of the zig-zag British advance, which Sir 
 Ashton had mentioned at his own luncheon 
 table, and which was in the hands of the enemy 
 next day. 
 
 What if Lady Trask had been indiscreet in 
 regard to the name of Kendrick's ship, in the 
 presence of her admirer? Would it be possible 
 that O'Toole could have used information ac- 
 quired that way? 
 
 She went over it, all night long, in an agony 
 of distrust and terror. Hers was a consuming 
 devotion to England and its cause. She would 
 not hesitate one second to sacrifice Captain 
 O'Toole, if the good of England required it. 
 But what about Lady Trask? Suppose 
 O'Toole were a spy, and that it could be proved 
 that he learned his facts from Lady Trask, who 
 in turn obtained them from Sir Ashton, a mem- 
 ber of the War Cabinet f It would mean ruin
 
 124 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 and disgrace for both her friends. Surely 
 England could not ask that of her ! 
 
 But as if the Fates conspired to make her 
 go ahead on this path of discovery, two nights 
 later, the Duchess of Wrowe came up to town 
 and opened her house for a distinguished 
 French general, who was in London on diplo- 
 matic business. She heard, during the evening, 
 O'Toole discussing with the guest of honour 
 the matter of the general direction of the allied 
 forces. There was some argument, into which 
 several of the men were drawn, and some facts 
 were dropped in regard to future plans. It 
 was all general enough, but the stand which 
 England and France would take in the matter 
 was fairly well indicated, if not stated. 
 
 Somewhat later in the evening, she was 
 standing in the supper room with a dull com- 
 panion, when O'Toole joined Lady Trask, 
 standing nearby. He spoke to her in a casual 
 tone, but Mildred's ears, sharpened by sus- 
 picion, listened. 
 
 "Did you get it?" inquired the Captain. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "But you must," forcibly. 
 
 Lady Trask laughed. 
 
 "Any plans?"
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 125 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 O'Toole was summoned by the Duchess, and 
 Mildred's partner turned an astonished face 
 to her sudden remark: 
 
 "But it isn't possible!" 
 
 "I assure you it is," said he, thinking she 
 challenged him. He stared at her almost 
 hysterical laughter. 
 
 Two days later it became evident that Ger- 
 many knew the attitude of England and 
 France in regard to the general direction of the 
 allied forces. Mildred Downer assured herself 
 that it was coincidence, but the affair tor- 
 mented her so that she could neither eat nor 
 sleep. 
 
 Finally in desperation she went to an old 
 friend of the family, a man of authority and 
 position in public affairs. She poured out to 
 him the whole miserable story of her suspi- 
 cions. She did not even spare herself the con- 
 fession of why she began to hate Captain 
 O'Toole. Her friend listened attentively, and 
 asked some questions about Lady Trask. Mil- 
 dred repeatedly stated her belief in Lady 
 Trask. She was a coquette, flattered by the 
 attentions of a witty rogue. 
 
 She explained how she had tried to keep the
 
 126 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 affair to herself because of her affection for 
 Sir Ashton and Lady Trask. She was afraid 
 that disgrace for O'Toole might incriminate 
 them. But when she thought of the sacrifices 
 that were being made for England, she thought 
 that maybe this one was demanded of her. 
 Was there some way that the Irishman could 
 be watched, without drawing the Trasks into 
 it? 
 
 "You say you warned her that the man was 
 a libertine?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Does Trask make no objection to the fel- 
 low?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "Suppose I put a secret service man on him, 
 and if I get confirmation of your suspicions, 
 warn Trask that Lady Trask is indiscreet." 
 
 "Yes, that would be a good way to manage 
 it. Would my name have to be used?" she 
 asked anxiously. 
 
 "I should think not not unless something 
 develops where we would need your testi- 
 mony." 
 
 "It has been a relief to talk to you." 
 
 "You have done a plucky and a patriotic
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 127 
 
 thing, Mildred. England may have cause to 
 thank you for a real service." 
 
 "I'd do anything to help." 
 
 "I know that. Thank you for coming to me. 
 You may be sure that we will shield the Trasks 
 in every possible way." 
 
 She left his office relieved of responsibility 
 but not of anxiety and foreboding. If it should 
 be her duty to bring sorrow and disgrace to 
 Lady Bobs ! 
 
 These were days of hectic activity for Lady 
 Trask. The days she managed somehow, but 
 the nights could not be escaped. Surrender to 
 sleep meant visions of slowly heaving waves, 
 and drowning men. . . . Sir Ashton finally 
 carried her off to the country, on the plea that 
 he needed rest. She went willingly enough. 
 It seemed to make no difference to her, and he 
 wondered why she had persisted in remaining 
 in town. 
 
 They spent a week together, mostly out of 
 doors. They rode and golfed. Lady Bobs 
 tried to garden, but there was a ghost in the 
 garden now, who always stood behind her, or 
 worked beside her. It had brown deft fingers 
 which patted down the earth. Even Hughie's 
 prattle and old Mallory's song could not drive
 
 128 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 him away. So that happy refuge was taken 
 from her. She no longer set foot on Mallory's 
 well-trimmed paths. 
 
 "Ye notice how Lady Trask never digs no 
 more in yer garden, Mallory?" his wife in- 
 quired. 
 
 "Ladies gets whimsies for work. Gardenin* 
 ain't no bank holiday," was his answer. 
 
 "She ain't the same wommun. I wunder 
 sometimes does Sir Ashton see it like I see it." 
 
 "He sees what is under his nose, don't ye 
 fret." 
 
 Sir Ashton, in fact, thought Roberta very 
 nervous and over-tired. He discouraged their 
 having any guests and urged her to relax and 
 rest. She smiled at that. She was ever on the 
 alert for orders from Them. The difficulties 
 and dangers of transmission were greater here 
 in the country. She was planning how to meet 
 Sir Ash ton's sure objections, and go back to 
 town with him, when he went. 
 
 Lady Cecily arrived one day, bringing two 
 men. Ashton took charge of one of them. He 
 made no impression on Lady Bobs although he 
 told her he was an old friend of Mildred Dow- 
 ner, and had heard much from her of Lady 
 Trask's charms. The other man was a Captain
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 129 
 
 Ivan Insull. He was a big, magnificently pro- 
 portioned young man, with laughing blue eyes, 
 and abounding vitality. 
 
 "Captain Insull gave me no peace, until I 
 brought him here, Bobs. There are men who 
 worry along for a day with my poor charms, 
 but not the Captain," complained Cecily. 
 
 "What can a man say to that?" he asked, 
 with his big boy smile. 
 
 "If you only spare us the 'How happy would 
 I be' couplet," suggested Bobs. 
 
 "You are spared," he assured her. 
 
 "And don't bother about calling us the horns 
 of your dilemma " 
 
 "Ladies, you have elected me the King of 
 Bromidia ! Accept in return the neighbouring 
 provinces of Sulphitia." 
 
 They laughed at his nonsense, and Lady 
 Cecily went to speak to old Mallory. 
 
 "Why did you want to come and see me?" 
 inquired Roberta idly. 
 
 "Because you are the most beautiful person 
 I have ever seen. You were pointed out to me 
 in London." 
 
 "That is manna from Heaven to a tired 
 woman feeling middle-agish."
 
 130 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I'm an antidote for that feeling. Do try 
 me," he urged her. 
 
 "My case would demand your constant at- 
 tention," she warned him. 
 
 "Your case would get it," he replied with 
 decision. 
 
 "Are you an Englishman?" she asked. 
 
 "Canadian." 
 
 "Ah, yes, that's it." 
 
 "May I ask what is that, that's it?" 
 
 "Hm you've got the look of a man whose 
 eyes have swept broad spaces. I knew you 
 were no dweller in cities." 
 
 "I'm a rover no dweller long in any place. 
 Like Satan 'I walk up and down the earth.' 
 From Singapore to London is a step." 
 
 "You wear seven league boots, then. That's 
 who you are, of course. The Giant in the Fairy 
 Tale." 
 
 He laughed at that. 
 
 "That's me. You haven't any prejudice 
 against giants?" anxiously. 
 
 "Not if they make me laugh, and play, and 
 believe in fairies." 
 
 "Oh, we do!" he assured her. "You may be 
 the haughty Princess Irmingarde, and I will
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 131 
 
 show you what a handy thing is a pocket 
 giant." 
 
 "I think that must be what I need." 
 
 "I'm yours," he cried, with a low bow. 
 
 "Good, you are getting on!" commented 
 Lady Cecily, joining them. "What are you 
 going to do with the great creature, Bobs?" 
 
 "She's going to play with me," he boasted. 
 
 "Don't you ever go off to war and get shot," 
 said Cecily, with eyes suddenly misted. "We 
 do so need big boys who can laugh in Eng- 
 land!" 
 
 So it was that Captain Insull came in to 
 Lady Bobs' circle.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 LADY BOBS was finally forced to make Lady- 
 Cecily her long deferred visit. They met in 
 town and Lady Harrison cornered her. 
 
 "Bobs, have you taken a dislike to me, or to 
 the place?" 
 
 "Cecily, you foolish one ! When do you want 
 me?" 
 
 "When will you come?" 
 
 "My dear, I was never such poor company, 
 to myself or to my friends." 
 
 "I'll risk you. Want to be alone, or shall 
 we import some amusement?" 
 
 "For instance?" 
 
 "Some pleasant men not husbands," 
 laughed Cecily. 
 
 "Are you dispensing with husbands entire- 
 ly?" 
 
 "Oh, no. We'll have them for week-ends. 
 They can golf together but they'll be no use 
 to us. We can take Cecil and Ivan " 
 
 "Cecil is lily-fingered poet, but who is 
 Ivan?" inquired Roberta. 
 
 132
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 133 
 
 "Your late conquest, Captain Insull." 
 
 "Oh, is he Ivan?" 
 
 "Would you like him, or do you want 
 Larry?" 
 
 "I'm sick to death of Larry!'* 
 
 "Ivan it shall be. We will motor out to- 
 morrow and carry our playmates along. Case 
 of the Sabine men," she laughed. 
 
 They started from London, late in the 
 morning, intending to lunch at the Automo- 
 bile Club. It was hot. The poet and Roberta 
 were a trifle languid, but no sun could dampen 
 the ardour or tie the tongues of Lady Cecily 
 and Captain Insull. They chattered, they 
 laughed, they chivied the other two, until 
 finally they were all weak from laughter. 
 England was at war, the world in ruins, and 
 yet they made merry past sunny fields, through 
 "pastures green, and quiet waters by." It was 
 a desultory day of sun and healing laughter. 
 From it grew courage in Lady Bobs' sick 
 heart. 
 
 It was the beginning of days when her deep 
 forebodings almost left her. Days in the open 
 with companions who knew how to play. She 
 had never met any man like Ivan Insull. He 
 was a big happy boy, as unselfconscious as a
 
 134 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 puppy, and as tender-hearted as a woman. He 
 sang delightfully in a mellow baritone voice, 
 and played the piano very well. His vitality 
 seemed to surcharge the world. His laugh 
 boomed forth constantly, and every human 
 creature, and every animal creature, who came 
 in touch with him, loved him. 
 
 To Roberta he was like a breath of moun- 
 tain air to a woman strangling. He hurled 
 himself into things with such abandon that he 
 swept her along with him. She fairly clung 
 to the thought of him. He made her laugh, he 
 made her forget. He made love to her, too, 
 in the most wholehearted way. He flattered 
 her constantly with little tender attentions. To 
 her stricken spirit, burned with the vitriol of 
 scorn from the man she loved, it was like sweet, 
 healing oil which quenched her pain. 
 
 "How can you be so young?" she said to 
 him once. 
 
 "I protect my youth, where most people 
 squander theirs. Youth is the most important 
 thing of all." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "One only realises it when it is gone." 
 
 "Get it back. Middle age is a complaint, 
 but old age is a disease. Hurry to a doctor."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 135 
 
 "He'll tell me to give up coffee." 
 
 "I'll prescribe for you. Give up to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 "You mean ?" 
 
 "To-day is enough." 
 
 "La CigaLe et La Fovrmif she reminded 
 him. 
 
 "Ah, yes, but give me La Cigale. She has 
 her perfect day of sun and love, and then she 
 goes out. That's my way. Isn't it yours?" 
 
 "Make me laugh, Pocket Giant, don't make 
 me philosophise," she begged him. 
 
 "I wish I could make you forget," he said 
 gently. 
 
 "Forget what?" 
 
 "The thing that drives you so." 
 
 They were sitting on the veranda, and he 
 went to get a ukulele, and came to sit beside 
 her. He sang her some aching Hawaiian songs, 
 and then he broke off and made her laugh with 
 an imitation of a Chinese boy, trying to sing 
 a Chinese song, with one string of the instru- 
 ment for accompaniment. These strange 
 noises brought Lady Cecily and Languedoc to 
 the spot. 
 
 "I have an inspiration," said Cecily. "Let's 
 have a garden party and a concert for the ben-
 
 186 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 efit of convalescent Tommies. Basil could 
 recite his poems, Ivan could sing, and I could 
 provide the garden and the food." 
 
 "Must we?" sighed Captain Insull. "We've 
 been so happy here in our quiet way. Why let 
 the rude world in?" 
 
 "The rude world must pay well to get in," 
 his hostess replied. 
 
 "Do vote against it, Lovely Lady Irmin- 
 garde!" Ivan begged Roberta. 
 
 "It is no use. I can see the idea growing 
 like a plant, in Cecily's mind," she laughed, 
 indicating Cecily's absorbed expression. 
 
 "We could get down some celebrities from 
 London, and exhibit the Duchess of Wrowe," 
 Cecily said. 
 
 "For a fee?" inquired Languedoc. 
 
 "They still pay to see a Duchess," she re- 
 torted. 
 
 "Are husbands to be exhibited, too?" asked 
 Insull. 
 
 "Don't be cynical. What do you say to 
 Saturday?" 
 
 "The day does not matter, it's the audience. 
 Do you expect me to read my poems to the vil- 
 lage green grocer on a half holiday?"
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 137 
 
 "I do. It's part of your 'bit/ " cried Lady 
 Cecily. 
 
 "Yes, and the green grocer's bit, too. He 
 may stand under gunfire, but will he stand 
 under Languedoc's poetry?" 
 
 "Hush, Saul, or I'll brain thee with a peb- 
 ble," said the poet sweetly. 
 
 Roberta was right, the idea was fixed in 
 Cecily's mind, and she marched them all to- 
 ward her goal. Cards and tickets were sent 
 out broadcast; people were asked down from 
 London by telegram and telephone. 
 
 When she made out a programme for the 
 two performers Basil protested. 
 
 "You treat us like two trained bears with 
 rings in our noses." 
 
 "I haven't time to pet you now, but later my 
 appreciation will embarrass you," she prom- 
 ised. 
 
 The day before the party they rifled the 
 gardens and woods for decorations. They de- 
 cided on the spots where the refreshments were 
 to grow. They were as merry as youngsters 
 preparing for a picnic. 
 
 "Are the village children to dance on the 
 green?" asked Insull of Cecily. 
 
 "I had not thought of it."
 
 138 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "They always do, in song and story." 
 
 "Do they? You and Roberta go and collect 
 the village children, and engage them for to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "No sooner said than done," cried Ivan, go- 
 ing after Lady Bobs. "Lovely Lady Irmin- 
 garde, we are ordered to the village to stage 
 the Pied Piper," he explained. 
 
 They boarded Cecily's runabout, which 
 Captain Insull drove, and started for the vil- 
 lage. Ivan sang lustily, as they dashed along 
 the country road. Bobs lay back relaxed, al- 
 most content. He threw her a smile, now and 
 then. 
 
 "Comfy?" he asked. 
 
 "Hm. Sing that again." 
 
 So he sang it again. 
 
 The day of the lawn fete was a dispensation 
 in weather. Everybody came from far and 
 near, and Lady Cecily was so pleased, that 
 Languedoc said to her: 
 
 "Madam, your triumph is offensive!" 
 
 The audience was as kind as the weather. 
 They applauded Languedoc's poems politely, 
 but they encored Captain Insull's songs until 
 he was as hoarse as a tired crow. The children
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 danced on the lawn, led by Lady Bobs and 
 Insull, and every one was in high spirits. 
 
 The Duchess of Wrowe turned to Ashton 
 after the children's games. Insull was bending 
 over Roberta, who smiled up at him. The 
 man's devotion was in his face, in the very pos- 
 ture of his body as he leaned toward her. 
 
 "Ashton, do make that girl of yours behave 
 herself. That is not a proper tableau for a 
 mixed, public affair like this. Who is Captain 
 Insull?" 
 
 Sir Ashton shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "He seems an agreeable fellow." 
 
 "Too agreeable by far, I should say. 
 O'Toole, Lord Kendrick, Captain Insull 
 Roberta's list grows too long." 
 
 "My dear old friend, forgive me if I say that 
 I cannot discuss Roberta's friends or her con- 
 duct with any one." 
 
 "Ashton, you're a fool!" snapped the old 
 woman. "Why don't you make her love you 
 so that she will give you her full attention?" 
 
 "I think the verb 'make' is never conjugated 
 with the verb 'to love,' " he smiled at her. 
 
 Captain O'Toole stopped to say a word to 
 them. He caught Roberta's eye and made a 
 gesture which she knew. She paid no attention
 
 140 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 to it, so shortly he sauntered over and joined 
 her. With a smile he held out his hand, and 
 when she put her own in it she felt a tightly 
 folded paper against her palm. She presented 
 O'Toole to Captain Insull, and, after a few 
 bantering words, the Irishman went on. 
 
 "Don't let him give you notes," said Insull. 
 
 "Why not?" she challenged him. 
 
 "He won't do. He's a second rater." 
 
 "Men never like him. He's an old pal of 
 mine, and he has a perfect right to slip me 
 billets-doux. Come along and be pretty to the 
 Duchess." 
 
 "I prefer to stay with you. Why should I 
 be pretty to an old grenadier with a black 
 moustache?" 
 
 "Because you're such a kind pocket giant 
 that you will like to give the grenadier a treat." 
 
 But Cecily arrived at the moment and or- 
 dered Insull to sing again, so Lady Bobs 
 joined the Duchess and Ashton. 
 
 "Roberta, who is the handsome officer?" 
 
 "Captain Ivan Insull is his name." 
 
 "He's in love with you." 
 
 "Is he?" 
 
 "I tell Ashton he ought to put a stop to your 
 philandering."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 141 
 
 Lady Trask looked at her husband. 
 
 "Why don't you?" she inquired. 
 
 He smiled at her, without reply. 
 
 "Irishman!" called the Duchess. "Take me 
 to Cecily. I'm tired and I'm going home. 
 Roberta, behave yourself." 
 
 "You don't mind her, dear? She's getting 
 old and cranky." 
 
 "I wasn't thinking of her. Why don't you 
 stop me, Ashton?" 
 
 "I have, I hope, never stopped anybody 
 from doing anything that their natures or their 
 pleasures dictated," he remarked. 
 
 "I wish I were the kind of wife you ought 
 to have, Ashton!" she said with sudden feeling. 
 
 "Dearest, you are the only wife for me to 
 have." 
 
 "How you do stand by!" 
 
 "You'll find me standing by, as long as we 
 two are on this planet," he smiled. 
 
 He drew her hand through his arm, and led 
 her toward the house. 
 
 "I wish I could make you as happy as you 
 make me," he added with a sigh.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LADY BOBS' "mission" brought her back to 
 town. The remark of Captain Insull about 
 notes from O'Toole recurred to her once or 
 twice, but when she recalled his bland expres- 
 sion, she was sure it was a chance shot. At 
 worst he would think Larry in love with her. 
 They must be more careful, however. They 
 had thought themselves very expert in this* 
 exchange business. There must have been 
 something in action or expression which had 
 caught the attention of Captain Insull. 
 
 She found herself refreshed by the normal 
 healthy days spent at the Harrisons'. Her 
 dread moment of reckoning seemed post- 
 poned, and life regained some of its savour. 
 Ashton thought her much improved. He so 
 enjoyed her society in his enforced stay in 
 London, that he made no more protest to her 
 remaining in town. 
 
 Captain Insull managed to see her every 
 day. They walked or motored, or lunched or 
 took tea together, and Lady Bobs leaned on his 
 high spirits as on a crutch. He had an uncanny 
 
 142
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 143 
 
 way of guessing her mood or her state of mind 
 before she spoke, and with a sort of boyish 
 tenderness he set himself to make her forget 
 everything except the moment in hand, with 
 its golden opportunities. 
 
 She gave his devotion little thought, save 
 that it comforted her. She was fond of him as 
 she might have been of a brother. She often 
 longed to open her heart to him, to tell him 
 about the tangled web she was caught in. She 
 was so sure of his understanding and his help. 
 
 About this time the masters over sea began 
 to make many and arduous demands upon her. 
 Planning ways to get the required information, 
 manipulating this friend and that, taking care 
 to cover her tracks always, such were the de- 
 vious trails along which she forced her mind. 
 The service she had entered upon, in a moment 
 of high feeling, had closed her in with prison 
 bars. She no longer obeyed Them gladly 
 she obeyed because she must. 
 
 Heinrich Briick came no more in answer to 
 her appeals for help. He sent no message of 
 courage to sustain her dreams. Duty and 
 Destruction were the ball and chain that 
 clanked behind her every step during these 
 days. No wonder that she turned to Ivan
 
 144 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Insull as a prisoner turns toward an open 
 door. 
 
 Mildred Downer came in to see her one day 
 in July. 
 
 "What are you doing in town?" Lady Bobs 
 asked. 
 
 "Working from eight to six, and sometimes 
 half the night besides, with wounded Tom- 
 mies," the girl replied cheerfully. 
 
 "Good for you. You look very fit." 
 
 "Never better in my life. I have never been 
 too busy to think before, with work that counts. 
 It is the answer to the whole thing " 
 
 "The answer is not so simple for all of us," 
 sighed Lady Bobs. 
 
 "Work from now on is to be my religion. 
 It is the only way to forget the things you 
 want and cannot have," said Miss Downer. 
 
 "I do not need conversion," smiled Lady 
 Bobs, 
 
 "I can't imagine you working," said the 
 girl. "You were just made to express beauty 
 and wealth and leisure. But why do you stay 
 in town this hot weather?" 
 
 "Ashton has to stay. I do not mind it." 
 
 "Is Sir Ashton well?" 
 
 "Fagged, poor dear."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 145 
 
 "Marvellous how the men stand the strain 
 of it." 
 
 "How about the women? I'd go to the 
 front, to sure death, in preference to the 
 woman-job of waiting." 
 
 "Most of us are too busy to think." 
 
 "You and I have neither husbands nor sons 
 out there. There's time to think for mothers 
 and wives, Mildred." 
 
 "We're all living in Hell," the girl said. 
 
 "Let's talk of something else," Lady Bobs 
 suggested. 
 
 "Lady Cecily told me that you had a new 
 slave. Who is Captain Insull?" 
 
 "If you can imagine all of youth, and gaiety, 
 a splendid body and a singing voice, in one 
 goodly person, you have Captain Insull." 
 
 "Where did you find the paragon?" de- 
 manded Mildred. 
 
 "Cecily handed him over to me, and by the 
 way, she had him as a present from a friend 
 of yours," said Lady Bobs, mentioning the 
 name of Captain Insull's sponsor. 
 
 At the mention of that name a strange thing 
 happened to Mildred Downer's expression. 
 Her skin went dead white, her lips looked blue,
 
 146 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 her eyes full of terror. Then a hideous flush 
 spread over her face and neck. 
 
 "Mildred, what is it? Are you ill?" 
 
 "It's nothing. I'm all right. Heat, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 Lady Trask rang for a glass of wine, and 
 urged her guest to go up-stairs and lie down. 
 But Mildred refused. She seemed anxious 
 to get away. 
 
 When she had gone Roberta tried to recall 
 anything in their conversation which might 
 have upset her guest, but it seemed to her in- 
 nocuous enough. She decided that it was a 
 case of overwrought nerves and too much heat, 
 and let it go at that. 
 
 She telephoned Insull, but he was not at his 
 club, so she started out on an errand, defying 
 the sun, which was hot. She had not been gone 
 from her house more than half an hour when 
 Captain Insull rang her bell. Brooks admitted 
 him. 
 
 "Lady Trask went out half an hour ago, 
 Captain Insull." 
 
 "Did she say how long she would be gone?" 
 
 "No, Captain Insull, but she was walking, 
 so she has not gone far, I fancy. Will you 
 wait, sir?"
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 147 
 
 "Yes, I will wait a bit." 
 
 "Very good, sir." 
 
 Brooks led the way to the darkened drawing- 
 room. 
 
 "Muggy day, sir. You'll find it cooler on 
 the balcony." 
 
 "Thanks. Anything new, Brooks?" 
 
 "Captain O'Toole yesterday, sir." 
 
 "Has he been here to-day?" 
 
 "No, sir. No one but Miss Mildred Downer 
 to-day." 
 
 "Who is on duty outside?" 
 
 "Watts, sir." 
 
 "Did he go after Lady Trask?" 
 
 "Yes, Captain Insull." 
 
 "Keep your eyes open." 
 
 "I do, sir." 
 
 The bell rang and he started to answer it. 
 
 "That may be Lady Trask now, sir." 
 
 As he left, Insull stepped out on the balcony 
 which ran across the end of the room, overlook- 
 ing a tiny square of green at the back of the 
 house. The three French windows that led 
 out of the room were all standing open to let 
 in the air. Presently he heard Lady Trask's 
 voice. 
 
 "I am at home to no one, Brooks."
 
 148 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Yes, Madam, but if you please 
 
 "That will do. I don't want to be inter- 
 rupted," she said curtly. 
 
 He heard Brooks go, and still he did not 
 step into the room. Then he started as she 
 spoke to a companion. 
 
 "I tell you I've reached the end of my en- 
 durance. They are killing me by inches. I 
 won't stand it." 
 
 "Lady Bobs, dear, it is a hot day, an' yer 
 nerves arr all a- jangle. I know how you feel, 
 old dear. But don't decoide annything on a 
 day loike this. It won't do," said O'Toole's 
 caressing voice. 
 
 "It isn't the weather, it's the whole thing. 
 They demand more and more. They are never 
 satisfied " 
 
 "But ye've done wonders, Lady Bobs. They 
 are hard taskmasters, but They know what 
 ye've done what a grand patriotic service 
 ye've given Them 
 
 "I tell you I'm through," she said wearily. 
 
 "Where is all that fine glow ye started in 
 with?" 
 
 "I've learned to turn and twist, to equivo- 
 cate, to pump my friends, to kill Oh, I 
 hate myself 1"
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 149 
 
 "What is the difference what happens to 
 you or me, Bobs, in this f eight? Ye're workin' 
 for the spread of all that's fine in the German 
 ideals. I'm workin' for the freedom of Ire- 
 land. What do you an' I count, I ask ye?" 
 
 "But I want my own soul back!" she cried 
 to him. 
 
 "It's too late. You're in ut, now, I tell ye. 
 You an' I may have sold our souls, but we're 
 in it now, and we must stay to the end." 
 
 "I can refuse to go on. There is no evidence 
 against me. Ashton's position would protect 
 me " 
 
 O'Toole laughed unpleasantly. 
 
 "My dear girl, Ash ton, nor Lloyd George, 
 nor the King, nor anybody can protect you, 
 once you make an enemy of Konigstrasse." 
 
 "I can rely on the support of the strongest 
 men in England " she began. 
 
 "Can you rely on me?" 
 
 "Larry, you mean ?" 
 
 There was no caress in the voice now. 
 
 "I'd sell you an' the whole British empire 
 to get the freedom of Ireland!" he warned her. 
 
 She made a little gesture of despair, of resig- 
 nation. There was no sound for a few seconds, 
 then Lady Trask said musingly:
 
 150 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "How curious that what seemed the highest, 
 truest instinct in me for service to high ideals, 
 should lead through degradation to destruc- 
 tion." 
 
 "Don't psycho-analyse, Lady Bobs. Do the 
 job and let the devil do the rest." 
 
 There followed a discussion of the best way 
 to get certain facts. He left her with a word 
 of advice and warning. Presently she dragged 
 herself out of the room. 
 
 Almost at once Brooks entered hurriedly. 
 
 "Captain Insull, are you ?" 
 
 Insull appeared. 
 
 "All right, Brooks. They did not know I 
 was there. Announce me to Lady Trask, 
 please. Say it is very important." 
 
 When Brooks was gone, he went to the win- 
 dow and made a signal, which sent a man 
 speeding down the street. Then Insull paced 
 the room until Lady Bobs appeared. She came 
 presently, very pale but perfectly composed. 
 
 "Bobs," he said, taking her two hands, and 
 speaking her name so for the first time, "my 
 poor Bobs." 
 
 "Ivan, what is it?" she asked him. 
 
 "How much do you care for O'Toole?" 
 
 "What has happened to Larry?" tensely.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 151 
 
 "He is in trouble with the authorities " 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Bobs, he has been your intimate friend, 
 your companion in public places. He is facing 
 disgrace. Go away, dear, now at once. Go to 
 Lady Cecily for the night, there's a good girl. 
 We will get you on a steamer for Amer- 
 ica " he was speaking incoherently and she 
 stared at him. 
 
 "But why should I?" 
 
 "Because I cannot explain it now. I beg 
 you to go away at once." 
 
 "Why do you want me to go?" 
 
 "Because I'd sell my soul to keep you from 
 unhappiness !" 
 
 "Dear pocket giant, I cannot go." 
 
 Sir Ashton came into the room, and after 
 a few moments Captain Insull left. She saw 
 that Ashton was disturbed about something. 
 
 "My dear, may I ask that Captain O'Toole 
 be dismissed from our list?" 
 
 "Why?" dry-lipped. 
 
 "There are some ugly rumours about the 
 gentleman. It is unfortunate that he has been 
 here so often " 
 
 "All right, Ashton, I will not see him again." 
 
 Brooks came to the door.
 
 152 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I am very sorry, Sir Ashton, but there are 
 some men here, who " 
 
 Two military officers entered the room. Sir 
 Ashton stared at them. They were strangers 
 to him. 
 
 "You wished to see me?" he inquired. 
 
 "I am sorry, Sir Ashton, but we have a mil- 
 itary warrant for Lady Trask," said the elder 
 man. 
 
 Before Sir Ashton could reply, he stepped to 
 Roberta's side. 
 
 "Lady Roberta Trask, you are under ar- 
 rest," he said quietly.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 "WHAT is the charge?" Sir Ashton brought 
 himself to say at last. 
 
 "Offence against the Army Act." 
 
 "Your warrant, please." 
 
 "Under a special Espionage Act, Sir Ash- 
 ton, military and police authorities are given 
 power to arrest suspicious characters without 
 a warrant. This is our order, and the charge 
 sheet," he added, offering Sir Ashton these 
 documents. They were signed by General 
 Stoten. 
 
 "We are given time to get witnesses, to pre- 
 pare a defence?" 
 
 "The court martial is set for eight o'clock 
 to-morrow night, Sir Ashton." 
 
 "I guarantee Lady Trask's appearance at 
 the court, at the hour appointed." 
 
 "Sorry, Sir Ashton, I am under orders to 
 arrest her. If you will come with me to Gen- 
 eral Stoten, he may parole her in your charge." 
 
 "I will speak to the General on the tele- 
 phone," said Sir Ashton. 
 
 153
 
 154 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 In a few moments he summoned the officer 
 and, after a brief conversation on his part, 
 over the 'phone, he returned and withdrew his 
 fellow officer. 
 
 Sir Ashton crossed swiftly to Lady Trask 
 and put his arms about her. 
 
 "Courage, dearest, this is some monstrous 
 mistake. We must answer this summons, but 
 we can set it straight at once. It is, of course, 
 because of O'Toole- 
 
 "You have not read that " she said, indi- 
 cating the charge sheet. "Ashton, whatever 
 comes to us, I want you to remember this, that 
 I have been true to the deepest instinct in me." 
 
 He laid his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 "That is all I ask, dearest." 
 
 "Thank you," she said softly, and turned 
 to go. 
 
 "I will ask our attorneys to come here at 
 once, Roberta. There is not much time to go 
 into this 
 
 "I must go to " 
 
 Her voice trailed off weakly, without finish- 
 ing the sentence. Sir Ashton went to the tele- 
 phone again. He succeeded in finding Sir 
 Andrew Stark, the senior member, at home.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 155 
 
 He promised to get a colleague and come to the 
 house at once. 
 
 Presently Lady Trask's maid ran down the 
 stairs, and called to him. 
 
 "Sir Ashton, Lady Trask is very ill, I 
 think." 
 
 He hurried up-stairs after her, and into his 
 wife's room. She was in bed, white as chalk, 
 and shaking with a nervous chill. She did not 
 open her eyes when he spoke to her. 
 
 "She will not speak to me either, she just 
 shakes like that " the girl exclaimed. 
 
 Ashton summoned a physician and came 
 back to sit with Roberta, until he arrived. She 
 looked dead it terrified him. The doctor 
 seemed puzzled by her condition. Ashton told 
 him she had sustained a mental and nervous 
 shock, that she had been overwrought all sum- 
 mer. 
 
 "Frequent nourishment, absolute quiet. I 
 will send a nurse and return myself at mid- 
 night," the doctor said. 
 
 Ashton remained until the nurse came and 
 was installed. Roberta did not open her eyes 
 in all that time, she would not answer his ques- 
 tions, and yet he knew that she was not asleep. 
 , The attorneys were announced and he went
 
 156 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 down to meet them. He explained the situa- 
 tion, and his belief that O'Toole had involved 
 Lady Trask as an unconscious victim of his 
 treachery. 
 
 Sir Andrew read the charge sheet aloud. 
 
 "But that is utterly impossible," cried Ash- 
 ton. 
 
 "That is what we must prove," said Sir An- 
 drew, quietly. 
 
 "But why does she have to submit to a court 
 martial? She should have a civil trial," pro- 
 tested Trask. 
 
 "I had General Stoten on the wire after I 
 talked to you. I asked about that. Captain 
 O'Toole naturally comes before a military 
 court, and Lady Trask is accused of being his 
 accomplice. The authorities thought that as 
 a court martial could be conducted with abso- 
 lutely no publicity, that out of deference to 
 you as a member of the Cabinet it should be so 
 conducted." 
 
 "My feelings are not to be considered. The 
 utmost justice is what I demand for Lady 
 Trask. There is no time in twenty-four hours 
 to prepare a defence 
 
 "Pardon me, Sir Ashton, there is all the time 
 we need. If Lady Trask will help us with the
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 157 
 
 truth, we will stay here until we go to court 
 to-morrow night." 
 
 "But Lady Trask is ill she cannot speak." 
 
 "Then the trial must be postponed. How- 
 ever, we will stay on, until all hope of her help 
 is futile." 
 
 "You advise me not to insist upon a civil 
 trial?" 
 
 "If Lady Trask is innocent, as we all believe 
 her to be, is it not better that the fact should 
 be proved before a court sitting in secret, 
 whose proceedings are never revealed? Why 
 should all England blaze with this scandal?" 
 
 "If you think she will get justice " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 With a sigh Ashton acquiesced, and they 
 began to lay their plans for the defence. Fre- 
 quently Ashton went up to see Roberta, to beg 
 her to speak to him. At midnight the doctor 
 returned, and reported no change. All night 
 long, down in the library, the three men worked 
 on the case of Lady Trask. 
 
 Morning came, still she lay like a dead 
 woman. Ashton and the attorneys decided 
 that if at three o'clock there was no change, 
 then Sir Andrew would appeal to General 
 Stoten for a postponement.
 
 158 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 A few moments before that hour Ashton 
 went to Lady Trask's bedside. He laid his 
 hand gently on hers, and she opened her eyes 
 and looked at him. 
 
 "Dear- 
 
 "Ashton, is it time to go?" 
 
 "Not yet. Could you see Sir Andrew Stark 
 for a little and tell him some things he must 
 know?" 
 
 "No, I cannot see any one. I want to be 
 alone until I go." 
 
 "But, Roberta, we must know. How can 
 we defend you unless you help us?" 
 
 "You cannot help me, Ashton." 
 
 She closed her eyes and would not speak any 
 more. He reported this to Sir Andrew. 
 
 "This looks serious. Could this shock have 
 unsettled her mind?" 
 
 "I think her mind was clear." 
 
 The doctor reported at three o'clock that 
 Lady Trask's heart was normal, her brain 
 clear. But she would not speak. 
 
 At seven forty-five, in silence, the two attor- 
 neys and Sir Ashton and Roberta drove to the 
 court. They were a few seconds early. The 
 President of the court martial, General Stoten, 
 the prosecutor and the Judge-Advocate were
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 159 
 
 consulting together. Mildred Downer and 
 Captain Ivan Insull sat together, and beyond 
 them Brooks, the butler. Several of the officers 
 composing the court, in fact nearly every one 
 in the room was known to the Trasks. It 
 seemed a friendly gathering. Larry O'Toole 
 sat with his attorney. He rose and smiled 
 when Lady Trask bowed to him. 
 
 Roberta smiled and bowed to them all, and 
 sat down. She felt slightly amused by the 
 solemnity of the occasion. She seemed not to 
 look and yet she saw how Mildred Downer wet 
 her lips with her tongue continually, how 
 Brooks cleared his throat. Why did they have 
 Brooks? 
 
 The President of the Court took his place 
 and called the court to order. Ashton and the 
 attorneys came to sit beside Roberta. The 
 names and rank of all officers composing the 
 court were read. The Judge Advocate admin- 
 istered the oath to the President who repeated 
 it solemnly: 
 
 "I do swear that I will not, unless it is neces- 
 sary for due discharge of my official duties, 
 divulge the sentence of this court martial, 
 until it is duly confirmed, and that I will not,
 
 160 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 on any account, at any time whatsoever, dis- 
 close or discover the vote or opinion of any par- 
 ticular member of this court martial unless 
 thereunto required in due course of law, 
 "So Help Me God!" 
 
 The oath was taken by each member of the 
 court. Then the prosecutor read the charge. 
 He first read the indictment against Captain 
 Larry O'Toole, charged with being a spy in 
 the service and pay of the enemy. A list of a 
 dozen particular acts followed which gave aid 
 and comfort to the enemy. There was no 
 sound of breathing in the room, so tense was 
 the attention. 
 
 The indictment was read against Lady 
 Roberta Trask. She was charged with being 
 a spy, in the service of the enemy, working in 
 collaboration with Captain O'Toole. The 
 specific act of treason was the revelation to the 
 enemy of the name of the warship on which 
 Lord Kendrick had sailed. 
 
 Roberta looked neither to the right nor the 
 left. She could feel Ashton's body in the next 
 chair tremble. She wished he need not suffer 
 so ; she had no sensation herself. 
 
 The court proceeded to satisfy itself that
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 161 
 
 the charges brought were against offenders 
 amenable to military law and the jurisdiction 
 of this court. That each charge disclosed an 
 offence against the Army Act. 
 
 Ashton leaned over and whispered to her. 
 
 "Say 'not guilty' when they ask you." 
 
 The prosecutor asked Captain O'Toole 
 whether he plead "Guilty or not guilty." 
 
 "Not guilty," he replied in a steady voice. 
 
 "Lady Roberta Trask, do you plead guilty 
 or not guilty?" 
 
 "Guilty," she said quietly. 
 
 Sir Andrew started up, but the President 
 asked her if she understood the nature of the 
 charge, and the general effect of pleading 
 guilty. He explained at length and he advised 
 her to withdraw the plea. 
 
 "Guilty," repeated Lady Bobs. 
 
 The prosecutor began an address. Roberta 
 did not listen. She seemed to be back in New 
 York, a child. She was in the big old-fash- 
 ioned house where Heinrich Briick had lived. 
 His voice was in her ears "Deep, deeper than 
 anything in your life is this love of fatherland. 
 Give your love to this young America, lieb- 
 chen, but let your deepest loyalty be for the
 
 162 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 traditions of your mother's race. Count no 
 sacrifice too great, not even life itself." 
 
 There was some movement in the room, and 
 Roberta's spirit came back. Mildred Downer 
 was called and sworn, to give testimony against 
 Larry O'Toole. How topsy-turvy life was! 
 If Larry had not kissed her on the stairs, she 
 might not now be swearing away his honour. It 
 was a big price for a kiss. . . . Larry's attor- 
 ney tried to get into the testimony the motive 
 which caused her to set a watch on the Captain. 
 
 "Why did you collect evidence against Cap- 
 tain O'Toole?" 
 
 "Because I wished to rid my country of her 
 enemies." 
 
 "It was patriotism alone which prompted 
 your action?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Did you suspect that Captain O'Toole was 
 working with the aid of Lady Trask?" 
 
 "I had no suspicion of Lady Trask." 
 
 "Yet you carried your suspicions to head- 
 quarters and had a secret service agent ap- 
 pointed to follow Lady Trask." 
 
 "I did not know that was to be done. I said 
 repeatedly that I did not doubt Lady Trask!" 
 
 "If you had doubted her, your patriotism
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 163 
 
 would not have driven you to give evidence 
 against Captain O'Toole?" 
 
 "If I had doubted her, I would have given 
 the evidence just the same. My country de- 
 manded that of me." 
 
 She was dismissed and Brooks was called 
 and sworn. He stated his term of service to 
 the Trasks and admitted that for the last six 
 weeks he had been in the service of the govern- 
 ment authorities. 
 
 He testified that Captain O'Toole was a 
 constant guest at the Trasks' house. He had 
 never heard any treasonable conversation be- 
 tween them until the afternoon before, when 
 he had heard Lady Trask threaten to defy 
 some authority which she called Them, and 
 Captain O'Toole had threatened her with dis- 
 grace. He had never seen any exchange of 
 papers or documents between them, etc., etc. 
 
 The various counts against O'Toole were 
 established slowly and painfully. 
 
 "You wear the uniform of a British officer, 
 Captain O'Toole. Were you ever loyal in 
 heart and deed to England?" 
 
 "I am loyal in heart an' deed, to one coun- 
 try, and only one to me own country to Ire- 
 land!" he replied.
 
 164 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 He was asked if he would testify as a wit- 
 ness. He refused. 
 
 The case of Lady Trask was opened. The 
 same technicalities were gone through with. 
 
 "Your nationality, Lady Trask?" 
 
 "German." 
 
 There was a stir at that. Sir Ashton pro- 
 tested, and was called to order. 
 
 "Where were you born?" 
 
 "In New York City, the United States." 
 
 "Your father's name?" 
 
 "Henry Hancock." 
 
 "His nationality?" 
 
 "American." 
 
 "Your mother's name?" 
 
 "Adelaide Bruck." 
 
 "Her birthplace?" 
 
 "New York City." 
 
 "Why do you say that you are of German 
 nationality when you were born in New York, 
 of American-born parents ?" 
 
 "Because I choose Germany as my father- 
 land. My birth in New York was an acci- 
 dent." 
 
 "Did you enter into marriage previous to 
 your present union?" 
 
 "Yes. I married Andrew Bouton, an Amer-
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 165 
 
 lean, when I was eighteen. He died when I 
 was twenty." 
 
 "Did he have German sympathies?" 
 
 "No. He was very American." 
 
 "You married Sir Ash ton Trask when?" 
 
 "In 1901." 
 
 "You became an English citizen, by your 
 marriage to an English subject." 
 
 "I have never been an English citizen in my 
 own mind." 
 
 "That does not concern us. You were such 
 by law." 
 
 Roberta smiled at that. 
 
 "On what date did you begin collusion with 
 the enemy?" 
 
 "In May, on the day the Premier spoke " 
 
 she gave the place and the date. 
 
 "Did anything said by the Premier on that 
 occasion lead you to so act?" 
 
 "The whole mental attitude of the English 
 people, for whom he was spokesman, moved 
 me to the act." 
 
 "What mental attitude do you refer to?" 
 
 "The attitude of a superior Anglo-Saxon 
 race, called upon to destroy barbarians." 
 
 "That is the belief of the entire world, Lady
 
 166 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Trask, not only of 'a superior Anglo-Saxon 
 race,' as you call us." 
 
 "It was against that belief that I rebelled." 
 
 "By what means did you establish communi- 
 cation with the enemy?" 
 
 "They had sent me many messages during 
 the years of war, urging me to serve them. I 
 was told a watchman guarded my house night 
 and day. That when I had something to com- 
 municate, if I made a certain sign, an agent 
 would be sent to me. I made the sign." 
 
 "Who was the agent who was sent?" 
 
 "Captain O'Toole." 
 
 Sir Ashton was asked to testify in regard to 
 Lady Trask's German descent. He said that 
 while she spoke sometimes in derision of Brit- 
 ish faults, and American faults, that she had 
 never spoken in his presence, in defence of 
 Germany, never admitted a basic devotion to 
 the enemy's country. 
 
 "How did the name of the warship on which 
 Lord Kendrick sailed come into your posses- 
 sion?" she was asked. 
 
 "By accident." 
 
 Sir Ashton asked permission to testify to 
 that point and it was granted him. 
 
 "I take full blame for the fact that Lady
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 167 
 
 Trask gained this information. She knew, 
 because I told her the name of the ship." 
 
 "You knew that to be a state secret, Sir 
 Ashton?" 
 
 "I did. In speaking of Lord Kendrick's 
 departure, by a slip of the tongue, I spoke the 
 name." 
 
 "You realised your mistake?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You warned Lady Trask not to repeat it?" 
 
 He hesitated a second. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You had no reason to fear, at that time, 
 that she would use the information?" 
 
 "No, none." 
 
 "You very gravely neglected your duty, Sir 
 Ashton, by this breach of confidence." 
 
 "I know that, milord. I beg that I may 
 suffer the full penalty of this breach. It was 
 in no way the fault of Lady Trask. The pos- 
 session of this knowledge was a terrible tempta- 
 tion put in her way." 
 
 Lady Trask was recalled. 
 
 "What motive inspired your action in regard 
 to the Hart shire?" 
 
 "It was the greatest service I could do Ger- 
 many."
 
 168 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Was there any personal reason why you 
 wished Lord Kendrick destroyed?" 
 
 "I refuse to answer." 
 
 "Was Lord Kendrick your lover?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Brooks was called. He reported that Lord 
 Kendrick had visited Lady Trask the day be- 
 fore his death. He testified that they had quar- 
 relled, that Lord Kendrick left in a fury, and 
 that Lady Trask seemed like a crazy woman 
 after he was gone. She dined in her room, but 
 as soon as Sir Ashton was off to his club, she 
 summoned O'Toole. They had a conference, 
 which Brooks did not hear, and the Captain 
 left hastily. 
 
 "Lady Trask, is it true that on the occasion 
 of your last talk with Lord Kendrick you 
 quarrelled?" 
 
 "I refuse to answer." 
 
 The prosecutor pointed out to her that this 
 refusal to answer would be used against her. 
 There was a whispered conference between the 
 attorneys; they urged Lady Trask to tell the 
 truth, but she refused. She was asked if she 
 would call witnesses, and refused, again con- 
 trary to advice. Sir Ashton begged to be 
 allowed to speak as witness to her character,
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 169 
 
 and made an impassioned plea for her. She 
 was high-strung, impetuous. An enemy, dia- 
 bolic in its cleverness, had tempted her past en- 
 durance. A moment's impatience, a second 
 of revolt against what she felt to be bigotry, 
 had caused her to set her feet into the trap 
 Germany had laid for her. Then there was 
 no turning back. 
 
 He pictured the anguish of a sensitive per- 
 son so caught and driven. He repeated the 
 testimony, entered by Brooks, in which she had 
 tried to defy her masters. She had not known 
 what she was doing, she was victim, not crim- 
 inal. Let the court order exile for life, for 
 both of them, and he would take her to the 
 ends of the earth. 
 
 There were tears in every one's eyes. Mil- 
 dred Downer sobbed aloud. Roberta turned 
 and looked at Ashton, as he sat, white, shaken 
 and spent. How could he have sensed so 
 quickly the Golgotha she had trod? His eyes 
 were tender for her weakness, but she knew 
 how he despised her crime. 
 
 Captain Ivan Insull was called and sworn. 
 Roberta only half listened to his open state- 
 ments, but suddenly her full attention focussed. 
 
 "I am in the secret service of the govern-
 
 170 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 ment, and I was assigned to the case of Lady 
 Trask on June 8." 
 
 That sentence burned into Roberta's con- 
 sciousness. She had been fooled, and duped 
 by this man whom she had made her intimate 
 friend! The whole thing came to her. His 
 introduction to Cecily by the man to whom 
 Mildred had carried her suspicions. But how 
 could Ivan, the singing giant, be ? 
 
 He told in detail all the evidence which he 
 had collected, including her intimacy with 
 O'Toole. 
 
 "Yesterday I went to call on Lady Trask. 
 She was out. Brooks ushered me in, to wait. 
 I stepped out on to a balcony, which hangs 
 outside the drawing-room. She came in, pres- 
 ently, with Captain O'Toole. Before I could 
 announce myself, or make an escape, they 
 began the conversation which Brooks has re- 
 ported. They did not discover me. When 
 they were gone, I made my report to headquar- 
 ters and the arrests followed." 
 
 Roberta looked at him. He had much more 
 the appearance of a man facing death sentence 
 than did Captain O'Toole. 
 
 The president praised him for his work, and 
 congratulated him upon the arrests.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 171 
 
 The evidence was all in now. The Judge 
 Advocate asked Lady Trask if she wished to 
 speak. She rose slowly and swept them all 
 with friendly eyes. 
 
 "Milord, and gentlemen, and friends, I have 
 nothing to say in my own defence. Two 
 months ago I undertook a service, in which I 
 was prepared to give my life, if need be. I 
 undertook it, in a spirit of high resolve, and 
 deep devotion to certain ideals which I believe 
 to be of supreme value to the world. Now, 
 in these days of war, when all values are ob- 
 scured by fury, and hatred and passion, I know 
 that these ideals are lost to view. But in the 
 innermost heart of my fatherland they lie dor- 
 mant, and when the world is rebuilt, they will 
 be the steel girders of its framework. England 
 and America and all the nations must make the 
 contribution of their highest and best, too. 
 
 "What is this thing we call patriotism? It 
 makes me sacrifice the closest human tie, to 
 serve Germany. It makes Captain O'Toole 
 ready to offer his honour, if only Ireland can 
 be freed. It makes Mildred Downer sacrifice 
 her friends, it sets Captain Insull as a spy in 
 the house of his intimates! 
 
 "Surely if any one of these is treachery, then
 
 172 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 all of them are treachery. Yet the president 
 of this court congratulates Captain Insull on 
 his service to England. What makes the act 
 good or bad, if the motive is service to an ideal? 
 Why cannot this fierce passion, planted in 
 each of us, be made to serve all of us more 
 truly? 
 
 "For my own part, I have but one regret, 
 that Sir Ashton Trask, whose patriotism and 
 nobility of character is known to all of you, 
 should be made to suffer so terribly in order 
 that I may be true to my country. 
 
 "Whatever the sentence of this court, I shall 
 abide by it as cheerfully as I may, in the knowl- 
 edge that this court is actuated by high prin- 
 ciples of justice and patriotism." 
 
 The Judge Advocate then summed up the 
 case. The court retired into closed chambers 
 to deliberate the findings. No one moved, or 
 spoke. The tension was terrible. A clock 
 jabbed the silence with its tick- tick. Roberta 
 had no sense of being in that room, after a 
 little. She was suspended somewhere in space 
 she was at peace. 
 
 Every person in the room sat with eyes on 
 the closed door. The concentrated urgency 
 of those eyes finally burst it open at least so
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 173 
 
 it seemed to the watchers. In solemn file the 
 officers filed in again, and took their seats. 
 
 "We, the members of this court martial, find 
 Captain Larry O'Toole guilty of treason, as 
 a spy. The court sentences him to suffer 
 death, at dawn, by being shot." 
 
 Roberta's eyes dragged themselves across 
 to Larry's face. He was looking at her. He 
 smiled and nodded gaily. The voice went on: 
 
 "We, the members of this court martial, find 
 Lady Roberta Trask guilty as a spy, but in 
 view of her relationship to a valued and patri- 
 otic British subject, whose services to England 
 have been tireless and unremitting, we con- 
 demn Lady Trask to death by her own hand. 
 If on the first day of July, of this year 1916, 
 she be not dead, then this court sentences her 
 to face a firing squad, and to suffer death by 
 being shot. 
 
 "Lady Trask is hereby committed to the cus- 
 tody of Sir Ashton Trask. It shall be his duty 
 to see that she has no communication with the 
 enemy, from now until the day of her demise." 
 
 In silence the president of the court signed 
 the sentence, and the Judge Advocate did like- 
 wise. The court was adjourned, and the offi- 
 cers marched out of the room. Larry O'Toole
 
 174 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 came across the room to Lady Bobs, his hands 
 out. 
 
 " 'Tis a foine woman ye are, Lady Bobs. I 
 kiss yer hands. I'll be seein' ye soon, maybe." 
 
 "Good luck, and au 'voir, Larry," she an- 
 swered calmly. 
 
 Mildred Downer, her face swollen with 
 weeping, tried to speak to Lady Trask, but 
 she broke down, and hurried away sobbing 
 hysterically. Ivan Insull started toward her, 
 his face grey and drawn with suffering, but 
 she turned away deliberately. For him she 
 had no pity. 
 
 They were all gone now, and with the last 
 word of counsel from Sir Andrew she and 
 Ashton were alone. He dropped into a chair, 
 and laid his head on his arms, crossed on the 
 chair back, and deep sobs racked him. For 
 the first time Roberta felt, poignantly. She 
 went to him, and bent over him, her hands 
 seeking to comfort him. 
 
 "My dear my dear, don't!" she begged. "It 
 is all right, Ashton. Come home, dear, please." 
 
 He did not lift his head, and at the sound of 
 her voice his agony mastered him. 
 
 "Don't cry. I'm not worth one tear, Ash- 
 ton."
 
 
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 175 
 
 When finally he gained control of himself, 
 she found his hat and coat for him, she led him, 
 as a mother her little suffering boy, out to the 
 motor which waited for them. All the way 
 home he held her close in his arms, and they 
 spoke no word.
 
 PART FOUR
 
 PART FOUR 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 WHEN they arrived at home, after the brief 
 silent trip in the motor, from the court room, 
 Lady Bobs turned at the foot of the stairs, 
 and waited until Ashton laid off his hat and 
 coat. 
 
 "Would it help you if I if we sat together 
 for a while and faced this thing out?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "You're very tired?" 
 
 "Yes, I am. But I want to consider you 
 only" 
 
 "Do you think you can sleep?" 
 
 "Yes. I have not slept for weeks, but to- 
 night I think I can rest," she said slowly, her 
 black circled eyes lifted to him. 
 
 "Go to bed, then, Beloved. We will talk 
 to-morrow," he urged her. 
 
 "But will you sleep, Ashton?" 
 
 "No. I have some work to do. I will keep 
 my mind busy on other things, until to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 179
 
 180 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 She laid her hands on his shoulders, as he 
 stood below her. 
 
 "I can never say what your understanding, 
 what your support to-night has meant 
 
 She broke off, laid her cheek for a second 
 against his hair, and climbed slowly up the 
 stairs and out of his sight. 
 
 He turned and walked quickly into the small 
 study which he used as office. He carefully 
 arranged the working light. He unstrapped 
 and laid out his papers in order. He went to 
 his cellarette and measured himself a stiff drink 
 of brandy. Then, by a terrific exercise of will, 
 he gave his attention to the work in hand. It 
 was as if he forced himself into a tiny dark 
 chamber of his own mind. He sealed the win- 
 dows and doors that no air might come in, that 
 no light from outside might penetrate. There 
 in the darkness, he gave his full, concentrated 
 attention to this business, which was England's 
 business, and therefore required his best. 
 
 It was about three o'clock when the last pe- 
 riod was placed. He ran his hand across his 
 brow, and it came off wet. He felt himself hot 
 and perspiring from the strain he had been 
 under. 
 
 He turned off the light, and crossed the room
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 181 
 
 to raise the shades and open the window. The 
 daily miracle of dawn was at hand. London 
 lay out there, half distinguished in the opal- 
 escent mist. Birds stirred and cheeped. The 
 roar of the huge city was muffled, indistinct. 
 The houses looked indefinite in the light, as if 
 they might be the frail habitation of ghosts. 
 And were they not? Was there a roof, in all 
 those acres of dwellings, where a ghost of some 
 kind did not lift its eyeless skull? How the 
 agony of humanity outweighs its rapture! 
 How, in these days, war laid its bloody hand 
 on every human life. . . . Not only here, in 
 this faint dream-city, which he looked upon, 
 but in India, Australia, Canada, Italy, France, 
 Russia, in Turkey, Greece, in Germany and 
 Austria the same dawn ushered in the same 
 terror, the same human suffering. 
 
 It was by such avenues that Ashton's tired 
 thoughts journeyed back towards the tragedy 
 which had suddenly smitten his life into ruins. 
 A fierce rebellion against the anguish that was 
 let loose in him, rose and choked him. The 
 memory of the court room, the thought of 
 Roberta, pilloried there with a common spy, 
 like O'Toole, condemned to a hideous death 
 even as he was it almost bereft him of reason.
 
 182 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 This woman, guilty of the most heinous 
 crime in the history of the war, was his wife! 
 Why could he not see her as she was, traitor 
 to all he held sacred ? Why could he not hate 
 her and cast her from his thoughts? 
 
 At the same moment, his love, strong as it 
 was tortured, hovered about the thought of 
 her. Standing there, in the dawn, by the 
 alchemy of his tenderness, he seemed to enter 
 into the very soul of her, and know all its se- 
 crets. He understood her as no one else did, 
 with her impetuous, passionate loyalties. If 
 only those loyalties might have included him! 
 He recalled that thought as unfair. 
 
 He visioned himself as married to Roberta, 
 a native-born German citizen, and living in 
 Berlin. He reversed the whole situation, with 
 Sir Ashton Trask tempted to help England, 
 at any cost. Suppose the chance came to him 
 to connive at the death of Hindenburg! How 
 could he say in the fervour to serve Eng- 
 land that he would find strength to resist, 
 because of loyalty to his wife? Where was the 
 ultimate loyalty? Was it to wife, or to coun- 
 try? 
 
 The sun's rays were piercing the mists over 
 London-town now. Banners and ragged
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 188 
 
 scarves of light fluttered overhead. . . . He 
 wondered how his mother would have met this 
 catastrophe, had his own father been the vic- 
 tim? He knew her true sense of justice but 
 she had stricter standards of morality than he 
 she was not so dependent upon the people she 
 loved. . . . But it was not her problem, it 
 was his. His, and Roberta's for a little while, 
 then his forever. At the thought of her going, 
 he felt in himself the pangs of death. 
 
 The stir was beginning in the house about 
 him. The clear bright sun of early morning 
 streamed into the room. He went upstairs, 
 had a cold bath and tried to rest. He stopped 
 a second to listen outside Roberta's door, on his 
 way down to breakfast. He took up his paper 
 and tried to look at the news. Presently he 
 was startled by her entrance. 
 
 "Roberta!" 
 
 "Good morning, Ashton. Ah, you did not 
 keep your promise, my dear," she added, her 
 eyes on his face, marked with suffering. 
 
 "I did my best. And you?" 
 
 "I slept." 
 
 The breakfast was brought, and he followed 
 her deliberate lead into the protective conven- 
 tions. Once or twice he looked at her, and
 
 184 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 wondered if the night before had been a hide- 
 ous nightmare. 
 
 When the meal was over she rose at once. 
 
 "I have some letters to write, Ashton. Will 
 you come to my sitting-room in an hour?" 
 
 He nodded. When she was gone he tried to 
 busy himself for that hour. He was impatient 
 for their talk, he dreaded it utterly. He tried 
 in vain to read. In the end he paced up and 
 down the library, at the mercy of his emotions. 
 A hundred times he looked at his watch before 
 it was time to present himself at Roberta's 
 door. 
 
 He found her at her desk. She was calm, 
 interested in her task. She glanced up and 
 smiled. 
 
 "Sit down a minute, until I finish this, will 
 you?" 
 
 He sat down on the couch and looked about 
 him. The room was the same. Hundreds of 
 times he had sat here, while Roberta played 
 to him, hundreds of times they had sat here 
 together, before her fire, and talked. He 
 looked at her. She was the same gracious pres- 
 ence. It was not true that she was to die I 
 
 With a sigh she turned and came toward 
 him.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 185 
 
 "Dear, we cannot escape this talk," she said. 
 "I wish you might have had some rest to help 
 you." 
 
 "I'm all right," he assured her. 
 
 "I have been going over my things " 
 
 He laid his hand on hers in protest. 
 
 "Must you?" 
 
 "Dear, I have only twelve days, you 
 know " 
 
 "Oh, don't!" he begged her, his face in his 
 hands. 
 
 "Ashton dear, I wish I could make you see 
 it as I do," she said, her hand smoothing his 
 bent head. "Can't we say that I have made a 
 journey into a dangerous country, and given 
 my life as forfeit?" 
 
 "No, no. It is not right it is not 'justice, 
 tempered with mercy.' We have mixed it all 
 up somehow," he protested. 
 
 "Perhaps. The essential thing to us is, that 
 the price must be paid." 
 
 He groaned. 
 
 "Ashton, the horror is all gone for me. I 
 have paid for months a price that makes 
 Death seem a trifle," she said. 
 
 He rose and faced her. 
 
 "My poor Roberta!"
 
 186 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "No, no pity! I chose my path, I saw 
 where it might lead, I have come now to that 
 place. Sometime, before I go on, I want you 
 to know every step of that road, but not now. 
 Let us dispose of certain essentials, so that we 
 need not mention them again 
 
 "As you like, dear." 
 
 "I have a list here of personal things to go 
 to my intimate friends. We will, of course, 
 decide on some cause for my death, to be made 
 public. But let us arrange now that this list 
 is in the top drawer of my desk, where you will 
 find it." 
 
 "Yes," he agreed. 
 
 "My books and music I want you to have 
 and anything else you would like 
 
 He turned away and she paused a second. 
 
 "I have made some legacies for the ser- 
 vants, and named some small possessions of 
 mine which they might like." 
 
 "I will attend to it," he forced himself to 
 say. 
 
 "Here is a list of people to whom I want to 
 leave money, here my list of charities. My 
 will is in the safety deposit vault, as you know. 
 I want you to have as little trouble as pos- 
 sible "
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 187 
 
 "Oh, Roberta " 
 
 She put her arms about him. He leaned 
 his cheek on her hair, and they were silent for 
 a little. 
 
 "We must face this last thing, Ashton the 
 manner of my going." 
 
 "No, I cannot." 
 
 "It is infinitely harder for you than it is for 
 me. I know that. My only desire is to spare 
 you, if I can. What is your wish in the mat- 
 ter? Shall we decide now how I am to go, and 
 when?" 
 
 "You will not go until you have to? You 
 will give me these twelve brief days?" he 
 begged her. 
 
 "Yes, dear, of course." 
 
 "Promise?" 
 
 "I promise. I have a feeling can you bear 
 this, Ashton? a feeling that I owe it to the 
 gods to shoot myself." 
 
 "No no-^no." 
 
 "How then?" 
 
 "Oh, must we decide this ghastly thing?" he 
 cried, out of the bitterness of his agony. 
 
 "We need not, if it hurts too terribly. Sup- 
 pose we leave it to me " 
 
 "That is too damnable. Whatever it is, in
 
 188 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 the end, beloved, let it be my responsibility. I 
 could teach my hand to hold a revolver, to aim 
 at you, to fire at you, if it would spare you one 
 jot of the horror." 
 
 "Dear heart, it is not a horror! Look at it 
 with me. Death is a friend come to lead me 
 out of a tangle I could no longer stumble in. 
 Let him free me the old Greek way, with a cup 
 of hemlock. There's a sort of glory in that. 
 Shall we say that we close this subject until the 
 eleventh hour is come?" 
 
 "Yes, yes. I may find a little strength, 
 if you will help me." 
 
 "I shall," she said gently. 
 
 "What would you like to do with these 
 days?" he asked her. 
 
 "I should like to spend them quietly with 
 you, in Surrey. Could you manage that?" 
 
 "Yes, it must be managed. Let us go to- 
 
 morrow." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 She drew away from him and said : 
 
 "Ashton, do you want my w r ord that my 
 services to to my country are at an end ?" 
 
 "I do not need it." 
 
 "I feel certain that when Larry was arrested 
 he sent Them word of our undoing."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 189 
 
 "Let us not speak of it," urgently. 
 
 "Not again. I wanted you to be sure of me, 
 now." 
 
 He bowed, his face haggard with emotion 
 and weariness. She scarcely dared look at him, 
 so poignant was his expression. 
 
 "Ashton, this is not fair to you! I wish my 
 soul hao!. mounted this morning, with Larry's, 
 so you might have been spared this." 
 
 "Don't say that don't think it! You can- 
 not know what this reprieve means to me. 
 Twelve days, why Heaven and earth were 
 made in less! Let us pretend that we have 
 been offered twelve days in Paradise. Le^ not 
 one word or thought penetrate there, which is 
 not the child of happiness and love. Shall we 
 make these twelve brief days of ours, a Golden 
 Age, beloved?" 
 
 She looked into his eyes, his stricken tender 
 eyes, and her own filled with tears. 
 
 "Am I fit to enter Paradise with you, Ash- 
 ton? Will not the Angel with the Flaming 
 Sword cast me out?" 
 
 "No sword shall bar your way, my Roberta. 
 Love guards our gate." 
 
 "Ashton, I'm so unworthy "
 
 190 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "My love, you are the heart of me!" he an- 
 swered. 
 
 There came a knock at the door, and Roberta 
 answered it. 
 
 "A package, by messenger, Lady Trask." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 She took it, closed the door, and turned to 
 her husband, merely glancing at the address. 
 She went white. 
 
 "Ashton, this is " 
 
 "What is it?" he asked quickly. 
 
 "Will you open it?" 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 "It is from Them !" 
 
 "Let me destroy it unopened," he counselled. 
 
 "No, please. Later, we will destroy it, if 
 need be. Open it." 
 
 He tore off the wrapping and disclosed a 
 small box. He opened that. There lay a rib- 
 bon and a cross. She took it up and turned it 
 on her palm. It had an inscription : 
 
 "To a Patriot, Roberta Trask, for dis- 
 tinguished service to the fatherland." 
 
 It bore the Emperor's name. 
 
 They stood there silently, with the hateful
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 191 
 
 symbol between them. It seemed to Ashton 
 that he could not bear it this last insult. Ro- 
 berta saw it in his eyes. 
 
 "Don't hate it too much, dear. It is only 
 the same old symbol of suffering, triumphant 
 humanity the cross of sacrifice." 
 
 "But I cannot, Roberta " 
 
 "Do not tiy. This goes into the past with 
 our memories, we shall carry none of them into 
 Paradise, Ashton," she said, putting the dec- 
 oration out of sight. 
 
 "I must go now, if I am to arrange our leave. 
 You will not be lonely?" he asked her. 
 
 "Oh, no, I shall have much to do." 
 
 "Goodbye, for a little," he said, lingering as 
 a lover does. 
 
 "No more goodbyes after to-morrow," she 
 said, and too late saw her mistake. "There is 
 no goodbye in the Golden Age, dear," she 
 added steadily.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 AFTER Sir Ashton left her, Lady Bobs re- 
 turned to her desk. There were many letters 
 to be written to many friends in many places 
 and lands. She wanted these farewells said 
 before she went into the country. 
 
 A telephone call from Cecily Harrison inter- 
 rupted her labours. 
 
 "Bobs, the Duchess and I came in together 
 for the day, and we want you for lunch." 
 
 "Delighted." 
 
 "We will pick you up at one. It is the 
 Duchess's party and I do not know where she 
 is taking us." 
 
 "I will be ready at one, thanks." 
 
 These oldest and best friends deserved the 
 greatest part of her day, if they wanted it. She 
 would not see them again, for those last days 
 she meant to be Ashton's exclusively. 
 
 She dressed with great care. She wanted 
 these two to remember her at her best. She 
 selected a frock which Cecily especially ad- 
 mired. When she joined them in the motor 
 the Duchess exclaimed: 
 
 192
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 193 
 
 "Roberta, you look lovely!" 
 
 "Thank you, dear Duchess/* she smiled. 
 
 "The more you abuse yourself, and stay on 
 in this oven, the handsomer you get ! It wrecks 
 my beauty in a day," laughed the Duchess and 
 they both joined her, for she was famous for 
 her ugliness. 
 
 "It's that gown," remarked Cecily. "Bobs, 
 I wish you'd sell me that dress." 
 
 "You shall have it." 
 
 "Make me a reasonable price, now, because 
 I'm rather short. Why is it, do you suppose, 
 that I am always short?" 
 
 "Because your extravagances are long, no 
 doubt," replied the Duchess. 
 
 They lunched on the terrace, at one of the 
 hotels. Every table was full, and there was 
 an air of festivity, and many uniforms bright- 
 ened the picture. The fountain sprayed and 
 dripped refreshingly, while a stringed orches- 
 tra played softly. The food was of the best. 
 
 "Life is rather jolly, isn't it?" said Cecily, 
 looking about her, and bowing to friends. 
 
 "It's the j oiliest thing we know there's 
 that to be said," the Duchess answered. 
 
 "Of course, Heaven may be jollier still, but 
 I've always been suspicious of that golden
 
 194 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 street and harp picture," Cecily continued 
 gaily. "So dangerous to let every one experi- 
 ment on the harp difficult instrument, you 
 know." 
 
 "Cecily, what an awful idea! Heaven a 
 clamour of amateur harpists!" laughed Ro- 
 berta. 
 
 "And crowns! You know how few people 
 can wear a tiara." 
 
 "Stop at once, Cecily," ordered the Duchess. 
 "I cannot afford to lose my religion at this 
 late date. But I promise you here and now, 
 that I will never wear one of their ready-made 
 crowns, nor touch a harp." 
 
 "Bobs, the Duchess is a fallen angel. We 
 three may be together after death," said Cecily, 
 hopefully. 
 
 "I hope so," said Roberta with sudden ear- 
 nestness. 
 
 "Will you tell me how we got on this lugu- 
 brious subject?" inquired the hostess. 
 
 "Need it be lugubrious? Isn't it an old tra- 
 dition to surround death with horror?" asked 
 Bobs. "With such multitudes clamouring at 
 the door of Heaven I like to think in Cecily's 
 phrase maybe it's jollier there."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 195 
 
 "Heaven is an old tradition, Bobs, if you're 
 going into that," said Cecily. 
 
 "So it is, and none of us believe in it " 
 
 "I do," said the Duchess promptly. 
 
 "Not a static place of bliss, Duchess," pro- 
 tested Cecily. 
 
 "Certainly static. I hate being moved 
 about. Since nobody knows anything about 
 the place, you may as well pick out the kind of 
 Heaven you like, and believe in that." 
 
 They laughed together at that. 
 
 "What kind would you decide on, Bobs?" 
 inquired Cecily gaily. 
 
 "Mine is rather hazy in my mind. Not so 
 unlike this, perhaps. Going on with your 
 work, developing, loving, growing wiser." 
 
 "Any God in yours?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. God working, developing, loving, 
 growing wiser through me, through all of us." 
 
 "What an idea!" 
 
 "Where do you go from here, Cecily?" 
 asked the Duchess and laughed at her own 
 slang. 
 
 "My faith paints a place rather like London, 
 in the season, only with a pleasanter climate." 
 
 "No God in yours," laughed Roberta. 
 
 "Oh, yes. Some woman in a modern book
 
 196 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 I cannot remember the name of it defined it 
 perfectly. She said Heaven was a place pre- 
 sided over by a distinguished old gentleman 
 in evening dress, who had the right people to 
 dine. That's where I belong." 
 
 "That will do for Heaven. Plain blas- 
 phemy!" sputtered the Duchess. "Roberta, 
 how and where is the handsome Irishman?" 
 
 Roberta's mouth trembled, and she made an 
 effort to hold her lips firm. 
 
 "Larry? It is difficult to say where Larry 
 
 "I must get him down to the country. He 
 always makes me laugh," the Duchess said. 
 "And where is the other one?'* 
 "Other one?" 
 
 "Insull is his name, isn't it?" 
 "Oh, yes. He is about, I think." 
 "Why don't you ask me about my beaux, 
 Duchess?" inquired Cecily. 
 
 "Because your beaux don't interest me." 
 "But I have much choicer ones than Bobs." 
 "That white-livered poet, I suppose. No, 
 you are a natural polygamist, Cecily, and I 
 cannot bother with you, but Roberta's flirta- 
 tions irritate me, because I think Ashton Trask 
 is the finest man I know."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 197 
 
 "So do I," said Roberta simply. 
 
 "You don't act like it," bluntly. 
 
 "I am just crawling out from under that 
 'natural polygamist,' but I hope we are not 
 turning from Heaven to monogamy!" said 
 Cecily. 
 
 So they laughed and chaffed each other in 
 the way of old friends. They finished luncheon 
 and planned the afternoon. The Duchess had 
 errands and they were going back to the coun- 
 try for the night, in spite of Roberta's urgent 
 invitation that they stay with her. She wished, 
 she said, to be dropped at the Downers'. 
 
 "How can you endure that girl, Bobs?" 
 demanded Cecily. 
 
 "Poor Mildred I like her." 
 
 "Don't discourage Christian charity, Cecily, 
 it is rare enough as it is," cautioned the 
 Duchess. 
 
 When the motor stopped at the Downers', 
 Roberta bent and kissed the Duchess' withered 
 cheek. 
 
 "It has been perfect, Duchess," she said. 
 
 "You two are priceless to me. You give my 
 days savour," the old woman remarked with 
 rare softness.
 
 198 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Roberta caught a sob back into her throat, 
 and bent to Cecily. 
 
 "Goodbye, old dear," she said. 
 
 "When are you going to the country?" 
 Cecily asked, kissing her fondly. 
 
 "Ashton and I are off to-morrow for a 
 while." 
 
 "It is high time," the Duchess remarked. 
 "We will see you soon, Roberta." 
 
 f 'Au 'voir, dear friends," she said softly, and 
 watched the motor slide away. 
 
 Miss Downer was reported out, so Lady 
 Trask picked up a hansom and made a few 
 calls, but found no one at home. She turned 
 back to her own door. 
 
 "Miss Mildred Downer is in the drawing- 
 room, Lady Trask. She has been waiting a 
 long time," said the maid who admitted her. 
 
 Lady Bobs hurried into the room where 
 Mildred sat. She surprised her in an attitude 
 of complete dejection. At sight of Roberta 
 she rose, suddenly flushed and embarrassed. 
 
 "Well, Mildred," said Lady Trask, her hand 
 out. 
 
 "Oh, Lady Bobs," exclaimed the girl. Then, 
 "You must wonder how I dared come here, 
 after last night."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 199 
 
 "On the contrary. I went to see you." 
 
 "You did? Then you don't hate me?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I have not slept for nights because I hate 
 myself so." 
 
 "You must not. You saw this thing as your 
 duty. No one can think that it was pleasant 
 for you, Mildred." 
 
 The girl fought for composure. 
 
 "What you said last night has upset my mind 
 completely. Why are we all trying to serve, 
 by destroying each other? If I have brought 
 this on you unjustly, Lady Bobs, how am I 
 to live?" 
 
 "If the whole world has 'its mind upset com- 
 pletely' there is some hope for the future, 
 Mildred. According to the law of England, 
 Larry and I were justly condemned as en- 
 emies, but my question is, isn't there a larger 
 law of patriotism? Your love for England, 
 mine for Germany, Larry's for Ireland, Ted 
 Carter's for America surely this is a divine 
 instinct, it must be utilised in some bigger 
 scheme of a universe." 
 
 "I see that, I want to work for that," the 
 girl said earnestly. "Oh, it is sardonic that
 
 200 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 you should point the way to me when I have 
 have " 
 
 "It is not sardonic, Mildred. You carry on 
 the torch, that's all." 
 
 "I didn't know abuuc Captain Insull until 
 that day I was here. You thought I was 
 ill 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I want you to know that I never suspected 
 you, nor tried to impugn your loyalty." 
 
 "I'm sure of it." 
 
 "I've always cared 'bout you so much," she 
 said haltingly. 
 
 "I am glad of that. I have been fond of 
 you, too." 
 
 "Oh, I cannot bear it for you to treat me 
 like this !" she burst out. 
 
 "My dear, how should I treat you? You 
 did an unpleasant duty, so did I. I respect 
 you for it. Is that surprising?" 
 
 "I don't see how you can help hating me," 
 Mildred sobbed. 
 
 "It is unfitting for the dead to bear ran- 
 cour," she said simply. 
 
 Mildred lifted a swollen face to her. 
 
 "There is that, too- 
 
 "Yes, there is that, too. . . ."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 201 
 
 "I thought I should die this morning, at 
 
 dawn, when I knew he " Mildred could not 
 
 go on. 
 
 "No, no. Think rather of the way he met 
 his fate smiling, I promise you. Flinging 
 his soul forth, proudly, without a cry." 
 
 "I suppose you will not believe this, but I 
 loved him. I know, now, why I wanted him 
 punished. It was because I was humiliated 
 that he did not want my love. Oh, Lady Bobs, 
 now you will despise me!" 
 
 Lady Bobs put her arm across Mildred's 
 shoulders. 
 
 "No, I do not despise you. I know how 
 alike we all are, how far from civilised; how 
 bound by old traditions that a woman must not 
 offer her best gift. Some day surely, it must 
 be otherwise, if the race is to climb. . . ." 
 
 "I should have known that he could not care 
 for me," Mildred went on. "I'm so ugly and 
 stupid, and he was so handsome, so happy. 
 'Son of the morning' I used to call him to my- 
 self. When he kissed me I thought I should 
 faint with happiness " 
 
 Lady Trask nodded. 
 
 "Afterward, when I knew he meant nothing 
 by it, that he was just playing with me, some-
 
 202 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 thing inside me went mad. I thought I hated 
 him. I thought I wanted to serve England, 
 but last night I knew the real truth. I wanted 
 to be revenged on him, because he had hurt me 
 so. I loved him. I loved him ! As dawn came 
 
 on, I " she choked and stopped, sobbing 
 
 hysterically. 
 
 Lady Trask's eyes were full of pity. 
 
 "Do you think I ought to go and tell Gen- 
 eral Stoten that I killed Larry out of re- 
 venge?" 
 
 "That would not save Larry, Mildred. I 
 think your punishment will come without Gen- 
 eral Stoten's help or direction." 
 
 "But I've always thought I was a decent 
 person, with standards, and now I find I'm 
 just a rotter!" 
 
 "I know. These instincts spring up to 
 shame us, in crises. We never know they are 
 a part of us even, until all at once they domi- 
 nate us. It must be that you and I, and our 
 kind, are second rate." 
 
 "Not you, Lady Bobs." 
 
 "Yes, I am thoroughly second rate. I know 
 it, and I pay the price willingly." 
 
 "If I could only pay for you."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 20S 
 
 "The ill ye do, by two and two, 
 Ye pay for, one by one," 
 
 quoted Lady Bobs. "Never fear, Mildred, 
 you will pay," she added. 
 
 Mildred rose to go. 
 
 "You have been fair to me, and very kind. 
 I wish you could say as much for me. I'm glad 
 I've known you," she said earnestly. 
 
 "Thank you, Mildred. Good luck." 
 
 They clasped hands firmly, like two com- 
 rades. Then with a groan Mildred turned and 
 hurried out of the room. She did not see Sir 
 Ashton, who passed her. She fled out the door 
 and away, like one pursued by furies. Sir 
 Ashton went to Roberta quickly. 
 
 "Did Mildred Downer presume to come to 
 this house?" he said sternly. 
 
 "She is very unhappy, Ashton." 
 
 "She ought to be ~neaking little inform- 
 er!" 
 
 "Let us be a little kind in judging her, dear." 
 
 He kissed her, his eyes dim. 
 
 "We can go to-morrow, at noon, if you like." 
 
 "I do like," she assured him. 
 
 She sat late that night finishing up the many 
 things there were to be done. "Balancing her
 
 204 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 book," as she phrased it to herself. At mid- 
 night her husband came to her door. 
 
 "I saw your light burning. Can you not 
 leave these duties, whatever they are? Surely 
 you should have some rest." 
 
 "To-morrow, dear, I shall shed my past 
 like a cocoon. I want to start off a new being." 
 
 His hands rested on her shoulders, and she 
 felt them tremble. 
 
 "Sit here, and read, if you cannot sleep," 
 she suggested. 
 
 He sat down and tried to obey. At least he 
 sat with her, he kept her in his sight. 
 
 The morning found her still resolutely her- 
 self. The moment came to take leave of this 
 home she had come to, fifteen years before, as 
 a bride. She sent Ashton off on some errand, 
 that she might say her farewells alone. 
 
 She walked through all the familiar rooms, 
 lingering now and then to touch some well 
 loved object. Into Ashton's rooms she went 
 with a heart that threatened to suffocate her. 
 She sat down, impulsively, at his desk, and 
 wrote him a letter. She tucked it away where 
 some day, afterward, he might come upon it, 
 and find comfort. 
 
 In her own rooms she lingered. Her piano,
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 205 
 
 her books, all the intimacies of herself, held 
 out hands to her. The sun streamed in, a flood 
 of light. It was cheery, and real. No atmos- 
 phere of parting, this. Perhaps some day 
 soon, she might slip back, on such a broad sun- 
 beam, to visit her old belongings. 
 
 "The motor is here. Shall we go, Beloved?" 
 Ashton asked her, standing at her door, and 
 sensing the anguish of the moment. 
 
 She smiled, and gave him her hand. 
 
 "Yes, let us go. No memories, no regrets. 
 We go without impedimenta to find our 
 Golden Age." 
 
 He smiled, bravely, too, and hand in hand 
 they went down-stairs, and out of the door of 
 their home.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE moment they left London a change 
 came over Roberta. She was keen, interested, 
 alive. Nothing on the road escaped her. She 
 approved the day, which Ashton thought hot; 
 she quoted poetry about the English fields, she 
 repeated to him some of Cecily's absurdities. 
 She was as light hearted as a girl on a holiday, 
 and while Ashton marvelled, he delighted in 
 her. How her beauty filled the eye, and satis- 
 fied it, with its rich maturity! 
 
 "Yes, Ashton?" she questioned, aware of his 
 gaze. 
 
 "I'm wondering how you can be more beau- 
 tiful than when I married you." 
 
 "What a pleasant thing to say." 
 
 ' 'Pleasant' is a homely adjective," he pro- 
 tested. 
 
 "Vanity is a homely vice. Of course, you 
 are glad to be told you grow old gracefully, 
 but all the time you think back to your radiant 
 youth, and you are not satisfied with 'grace- 
 fully.' " 
 
 "Strange. I've no regrets for my youth. 
 
 206
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 207 
 
 "Grow old along with me, 
 The best is yet to be, 
 The last for which the first was made," 
 
 he said, and turned away quickly at the thought 
 that followed it. 
 
 "That is true of you, Ashton, as it is of few 
 people. Some of us cannot risk old age it 
 is too trying." 
 
 "Think of the penalty of eternal youth," he 
 suggested. 
 
 She recalled Ivan's phrase, "I protect my 
 youth, where other people squander theirs." 
 She frowned, and turned him out of her mind. 
 
 June was the loveliest month of all at Trasli 
 Hall. The rose gardens were an ecstacy of 
 colour and scent. A rose-covered pergola 
 fairly sagged with bloom, and a trellis which 
 climbed to Lady Trasks' window sent roses 
 creeping over the sill. She called Ashton's 
 attention to it. 
 
 "Isn't that charming? It is like a votive 
 offering from the good god Pan," she said. 
 
 "Take his offering, but do not listen to his 
 piping, Roberta," he warned her. 
 
 She slipped her hand through his arm, and 
 answered in the same spirit.
 
 208 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I cannot promise. Some day, if you should 
 find me gone, you will know that I have an- 
 swered his call." 
 
 "Where would he lead you, I wonder?" 
 
 "Back into the heart of nature." 
 
 "Then I should find you in sun, and wind 
 and rain," he mused. 
 
 "Forever and ever." 
 
 So they spoke of their coming ordeal, but 
 without bitterness or despair. There were no 
 secrets or evasions between them now. There 
 was truth and a new oneness, as if the flesh had 
 actually fallen away, and they stood together, 
 disembodied spirits. 
 
 The first two days were perfect with sun 
 and soft airs. They spent them in the open, 
 and most of the nights, too, for the moon rode 
 the sky in full splendour. 
 
 Roberta's determination was strong to make 
 these days a painless memory to Ashton. But 
 one doubt was ever in her mind, was it his 
 right to hear from her lips the whole story of 
 her short-lived passion for Lord Kendrick? 
 Was she letting herself off half the price she 
 was to pay, by not telling him? 
 
 It seemed to her that Ashton had risen to 
 heights of sacrifice during this ordeal. Never
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 200 
 
 once did she forget how her actions had out- 
 raged all his standards of high honour, but in 
 spite of that, his pity and his love had con- 
 quered every other emotion. She knew him 
 now, for the finest type of manhood which his 
 race produces. She had failed him all through 
 their life together. How could she have missed 
 seeing that he was all the things she had sought 
 in other men, and more ? 
 
 She saw now, in the light of their present, 
 what she had made them both lose. He had 
 known all the while that these possibilities of 
 happiness lay in their grasp, and he had waited 
 for the moment when she should give herself 
 to him, wholly. Through her blindness he was 
 never to know the realisation of that dream ex- 
 cept for these few days. Should she poison the 
 memory of them by making him father con- 
 fessor for all her sins? 
 
 Peace came to her finally in the realisation 
 that she had no right to ease her own burden 
 of guilt by pouring it on to him. She deter- 
 mined, however, to write the story from its be- 
 ginning. To tell the ugly truth about the 
 affair with Kendrick, to spare herself nothing. 
 She would leave this confession for him, and 
 if he cared to read it, then, he had a choice.
 
 210 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "What is it you are always writing on?" he 
 asked finally, coming upon her repeatedly at 
 this task. 
 
 She hesitated a second before she replied. 
 
 "It is a story which I have no courage to tell 
 you now, which I think it is your right to 
 know." 
 
 "You mean the story of you?" 
 
 "Yes, I mean the story of me." 
 
 "You intend to bequeath it to me?" 
 
 "Yes. A sorry bequest, my dear." 
 
 "Is it nearly finished?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He came to her side. 
 
 "May I have it now?" 
 
 A look of terror came into her eyes. 
 
 "Must you read it now?" she asked him. 
 
 "May I have it?" 
 
 "It is yours, Ash ton." 
 
 He bent to take it from her, kissed her hair 
 as he straightened up, and then with strong 
 fingers, he tore the closely written sheets into 
 bits. He laid it on her hearth, and set a 
 match to them. 
 
 She watched him silently. All at once she 
 put her face in her hands, and sobs shook her. 
 She had not shed a tear before. But this fine
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 211 
 
 gesture, with which Ashton swept the dross of 
 her on to a sacrificial pyre, punished her 
 cruelly. 
 
 He came and stood above her. 
 
 "So, dear, that is our past. Our present has 
 no memories. Nothing shall spoil these days, 
 nothing." 
 
 She took his hand and laid her cheek against 
 it. 
 
 "If you knew what your love meant to me! 
 How I cling to your tenderness, how I count 
 on your understanding." 
 
 "What else is love, but these things, my Ro- 
 berta?" 
 
 "I've stumbled along so many roads, and 
 hurt so many people, to find out what love is," 
 she said. 
 
 "I wish you might know " he began and 
 
 could not finish. 
 
 "I do," she answered him. She drew his 
 face down to her and kissed him. "Oh, dearest, 
 I've blundered so, and played with sacred fire. 
 But deep in me I must have known how safe 
 I was in your heart that the time was to be, 
 when I should know that my love was yours." 
 
 She felt his tears on her cheek, the beating 
 of his heart, but there was no need of words.
 
 212 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 A great peace had come upon them, like the 
 one "which passeth understanding." 
 
 From that time on there was no flaw in all 
 their days. They were lovers on a transcendent 
 honeymoon. Their talk ranged the universe. 
 They rode, they motored, they walked, they 
 gardened, with Hughie at heel, like a faithful 
 puppy. There came a day of rain. Bobs pro- 
 posed slickers and a cross-country tramp. 
 They swung along deserted country roads for 
 hours, hand in hand, with the rain beating in 
 their faces. Later he sat and smoked while she 
 played to him. They read together, discussed, 
 disagreed, laughed and were exultantly happy. 
 
 "Such days as these are vouchsafed to few 
 humans, Beloved," he said to her. 
 
 "Whom the gods love " she sighed. 
 
 "Happiness is not destroyed. It is as im- 
 mortal as the human spirit," he said earnestly. 
 
 "Its pleasures and pains are boundless, 
 And endless its wants and wealth,'* 
 
 she quoted, smiling. 
 
 "Who said that?" 
 
 "Tagore." 
 
 "I found 'The Gardener' beside your pillow 
 this morning."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 213 
 
 "It's like my Bible these days. He and his 
 race are so sure of the things of the spirit. . . . 
 'O, Great Beyond, O, the keen call of thy 
 flute.' It has the eternal yearning of the 
 human race to know. How do you suppose 
 the immortal hope was planted in all our 
 hearts?" 
 
 "We must presuppose a plan. And why 
 not? If the planets move in courses, if the 
 earth turns on an axis? What sort of an or- 
 dered universe, if death by accident, by war, 
 by disease can cut short unfulfilled lives ? The 
 youth of the whole world swept on to the scrap 
 heap, by this accident of war? No, they must 
 go on. They must finish their work." 
 
 "Yes, that's it. We must, finish our work," 
 she repeated thoughtfully. "I shall think of 
 you working here, you will think of me work- 
 ing on somewhere else. Perhaps when you 
 
 come, I shall know " but he interrupted 
 
 her passionately. 
 
 "Not now, dear heart of me. The spirit 
 must comfort me later, but not now, while I 
 can hold you, while I can kiss your brow and 
 eyes and lips " 
 
 "Oh, my lover, take me now, all of me and 
 find me sweet, if you can, but don't forget,
 
 214 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 later, that the very essence of me is yours." she 
 answered him with equal passion. 
 
 He spoke to her one day of their friends. 
 
 "I am very selfish. Shall we have some peo- 
 ple here? Cecily perhaps?" 
 
 "No. These days belong to us." 
 
 As the hours flew by and the time grew short, 
 they were more and more reluctant to be apart. 
 Sleep grew less possible for them both. 
 
 "Let us saddle our horses and ride through 
 the dawn," she suggested, their last day but 
 one. 
 
 They dressed hurriedly, and she managed 
 some coffee, while he struggled with the sad- 
 dles. She carried the coffee pot to the stables, 
 and they whispered and laughed over it, and 
 were happy. Then they mounted and rode 
 off, Roberta in the lead. 
 
 "We'll ride to the rim of the world where the 
 sun comes up," she called. 
 
 The horses ran side by side in the fresh air 
 of the new day. It was a world empty save 
 for them, a day fashioned for their pleasuring. 
 They called a word now and then, exchanged a 
 smile, or a caress of the eyes. Pounding along, 
 blood coursing freely, no thought of any mo-
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 215 
 
 ment but the present one came to taunt them. 
 The rays sprayed over the horizon line. 
 
 "It will beat us!" cried Roberta, urging her 
 horse. She was off at a gallop, Ashton at her 
 heels. 
 
 As the sun-ball shot up over the world's rim 
 she galloped faster. 
 
 "You're too late, my love," called Ashton. 
 
 "Not yet," she answered, and fled on. 
 
 But when the golden circumference was com- 
 plete against the sky, she let Ashton come 
 abreast. 
 
 "I almost made it," she boasted. 
 
 "So you did," he smiled. "What is a million 
 miles?" 
 
 She laughed and they turned their horses 
 to ride back. 
 
 "Doesn't this air taste like pleasant fruit?" 
 she asked him. 
 
 "Like trees of frankincense," he nodded. 
 
 "Is the air always so sweet in the Golden 
 Age?" she inquired. 
 
 "Always." 
 
 "Are the days always so full of good gifts 
 in the Golden Age?" 
 
 "Always." 
 
 "And love so abounding?"
 
 216 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "And love so abounding." 
 
 So, with courage, with hope and with com- 
 posure, they marched over the brow of the day 
 before the end.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 HUGH IE and old Mallory were at work in 
 the garden. The sun shone and the air was 
 heavy with sweetness. Lady Bobs strolled out 
 aimlessly, waiting for Ashton, and Hughie 
 trotted to meet her. 
 
 "Lady dig?" he inquired. 
 
 "No, Hughie, not to-day," she smiled. 
 
 There was something about the smile that 
 made Hughie feel she needed comfort. He 
 slipped his fat, earth-covered hand into hers, 
 and she clung to it. 
 
 Ashton came in search of her presently. He 
 kept in touch with his office by telephone, and 
 every day Roberta dreaded a summons for 
 him. 
 
 "All right, lover?" she asked him. 
 
 "All right," he reassured her. "Well, 
 Hughie, are you looking after my lady for 
 me?" 
 
 "My lady!" said Hughie stoutly. 
 
 "Wrong, Hughie. I share her with no 
 man." 
 
 217
 
 218 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "Dear, I wish I had given you a son," Bobs 
 said wistfully. 
 
 He made no reply save to draw her hand 
 through his arm. So escorted on either hand, 
 she walked through old Mallory's domain. 
 Hughie was lured away by a golden butterfly 
 which he pursued with invitations: 
 
 "Wait, buttyfy. Wait for Hughie." 
 
 "There go I, Ashton, with Hughie in pur- 
 suit. You remember I said I would slip my 
 past like a cocoon and come here as free as a 
 butterfly? I had no idea that it could really 
 be done. But it has been. What a happy, 
 happy day mine has been!" 
 
 "Has it, Beloved? Have I filled your heart 
 these days?" 
 
 "To the brim, my husband." 
 
 "My whole life has been lived in these brief 
 days," he said earnestly. 
 
 A taxi drove up to the house, and some one 
 stepped out of it. 
 
 "Visitors? Oh, let us run, Ashton," Bobs 
 said, for they were in full view of the house. 
 
 "Too late. He has seen us " 
 
 The man was approaching them, at the mo- 
 ment.
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 219 
 
 "It is " Ashton broke off with an angry 
 exclamation. 
 
 Roberta looked, and stood perfectly still. 
 The man came on, until he was within a few 
 feet of them. He was so changed that he was 
 scarcely recognisable. 
 
 "By what right do you intrude here, may I 
 ask?" Ashton demanded. 
 
 "By no right at all, except that I am a man 
 in extremity, come to beg Lady Trask for one 
 word " began Ivan Insull. 
 
 "Oh, your poor youth!" exclaimed Roberta, 
 involuntarily. 
 
 "Do you wish to speak to this man?" Ashton 
 asked her. 
 
 "Yes, dear. We cannot turn him away," 
 she replied. 
 
 Ashton bowed and started to leave them, but 
 she halted him. 
 
 "Stay with us, please, Ashton." 
 
 He made a gesture of protest, but Insull 
 added his request that he stay. So when Ro- 
 berta led the way to a summer house at the 
 edge of the garden, the two men followed her 
 silently. 
 
 Roberta thought to herself that here was the 
 only soul in all the net that entangled them,
 
 220 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 about whom she had let herself feel bitterly. 
 She had driven all memory of the handsome, 
 singing big boy out of her mind forever, and 
 here he was, scarred and aged with his ordeal, 
 come to sue for her pity. 
 
 She looked at Ashton, but his face was a 
 white mask, set and graven. She sat down on 
 a bench in the summer house, and indicated 
 chairs for the other two. Ivan began to speak 
 at once. He stood before her and his words 
 rained down upon her. 
 
 "I have no right to come here, I know that. 
 But I remembered how kind you were to peo- 
 ple, and I thought I hoped " he broke off, 
 
 and then began again. "I could not let you 
 go without saying one word in defence of my- 
 self- 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Captain Insull, but 
 Lady Trask has borne a good deal from you. 
 I think she might be spared your defence, don't 
 you?" Ashton asked coldly. 
 
 "What is it you want to tell me?" Roberta 
 asked him. 
 
 "How I love you, and what the Hell of this 
 week has meant to me!" the boy burst out 
 impetuously. 
 
 "Roberta, it is folly to let this go on. We
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 221 
 
 are not interested in your emotions " Ash- 
 ton broke in. 
 
 "Why not? I was serving you," Insull 
 cried. 
 
 "Serving me?" 
 
 "Certainly. I was doing the dirty business 
 of your country, wasn't I?" 
 
 "Ashton, let Captain Insull say what he 
 has come to say, please," Roberta begged him. 
 
 "When I was put on your case, Lady Trask, 
 I knew nothing about you. I had only seen 
 you once. I hated the job but I had no choice. 
 I was ordered to shadow you and get evidence." 
 
 "Yes?" Roberta said, anxious to help him. 
 
 "I made myself agreeable at first to try to 
 make you like me, so you would let me be with 
 you. You were heavenly kind, and I felt 
 surer every day that it was a false scent, that 
 you were all right. But when I got my first 
 actual evidence, that paper that I saw passed 
 between you and Captain O'Toole, in Lady 
 Harrison's garden " he stopped and wiped 
 his forehead, breathing deeply. 
 
 "Yes, I remember." 
 
 "I saw that message later. I went into your 
 room at Lady Harrison's, and saw it." 
 
 She nodded, frowning.
 
 222 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 "I held up the report for a week, because I 
 discovered that I loved you more than anything 
 in this world 
 
 "This is impertinence!" cried Ashton. 
 
 "My God, aren't we past impertinence? She 
 and you and I in the shadow of death? I can't 
 help it if she is your wife. I love her with 
 every beat of my heart, and I have betrayed 
 her " 
 
 "Ivan, you gave this evidence against me 
 finally." 
 
 "My first thought was that I would resign, 
 go away, say there was no evidence. Then I 
 had a call from headquarters, and I found that 
 the suspicion there was almost a certainty. If 
 I got out, they would put some one else in my 
 place, some one who might be brutal, who 
 might make it harder 
 
 "So you stayed on, trying to help me?" 
 
 "Yes. I knew from that moment where we 
 were all going. I looked into the pit of de- 
 struction every minute, night and day 
 
 "Why didn't you tell Lady Trask? Why 
 did you trade on her friendship?" Ashton 
 asked. 
 
 "He did tell me in the end, Ashton, only I
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 223 
 
 would not see. He begged me to run away 
 just befdre they arrested me. I refused." 
 
 "How could I tell her ? The evidence against 
 O'Toole was mounting every minute. There 
 was no chance for her. Even if she went to 
 America, as I urged her to do, she would not 
 have escaped " he groaned. 
 
 "I did not want to escape," she said. 
 
 "You say you love her, yet you hounded 
 her to her death !" Ashton challenged him. 
 
 "I was under British orders, Sir Ashton, I 
 had no choice in the matter!" Insull answered. 
 
 Ashton turned away and looked with unsee- 
 ing eyes over the garden without. What God 
 of Fury and Unreason twitched the strings 
 which made them all dance in these torturing 
 days? 
 
 "Lady Trask, I wanted you to know, that 
 any suffering which has come to you through 
 me, has been nothing to the suffering I have 
 brought upon myself. What you said, that 
 night, about our motive of service being true, 
 no matter what treachery seemed to result, has 
 comforted me a little. It was so fair. I 
 thought that maybe, if you believed that, you 
 might have mercy for me in your heart."
 
 224 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 She caught her breath in a quick stab of 
 pain. 
 
 "I know that you do not care anything about 
 me, that you never did. I knew those last days 
 what you were going through, and how it 
 helped you to play with me, and laugh at my 
 foolishness " 
 
 "Yes, it did help me. I'm afraid I never 
 thought what it was doing to you," she admit- 
 ted. 
 
 "I don't count I Why, I'd grind myself up 
 in little pieces, if it would help you. I shall 
 not pay less, Lady Trask, for my duty than 
 you pay," he added solemnly. 
 
 Sir Ashton turned swiftly. 
 
 "What do you mean by that? 
 
 "I mean that life isn't the greatest thing you 
 can give up. You know that." 
 
 Roberta went to Ivan and laid her hand on 
 his arm. 
 
 "Ivan, let there be no talk of that," she said 
 firmly. "I tried to say at the trial, that each 
 of us had done his best for what we believe in. 
 I found it hardest to forgive you, Ivan, be- 
 cause I had made you so intimate a friend. 
 But I see now that you have paid the ultimate 
 price with the rest of us."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 225 
 
 "I have by God I have," he cried. 
 
 "I know one thing surely, that our lives, 
 yours and Larry's and mine, cannot be waste. 
 They must fulfil some purpose. Stay on, and 
 make yours count here, Ivan." 
 
 "I cannot. Let me go with you," he begged. 
 
 "No a thousand times no! Ashton and 
 you have to help with the mighty task of teach- 
 ing the new world a better way to use its crea- 
 tures than in destroying each other." 
 
 "You're taking away my hope of peace," 
 he said brokenly. 
 
 "I have given you a new one." 
 
 "You have been all that I knew you to be." 
 
 She offered him her hand. 
 
 "I am glad you came, Ivan. I have many 
 things to thank you for." 
 
 He almost crushed the hand he held. 
 
 "Thank you " 
 
 "Good luck, Ivan. Courage, my friend. 
 That is what the world needs now." 
 
 He tried to smile, he pressed her hand again, 
 bowed to Sir Ashton and went quickly away. 
 
 "Why did he come here to spoil our perfect 
 day?" Ashton protested. 
 
 "Don't begrudge him his hour, dearest. I 
 am truly glad he came. I want to go on with
 
 226 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 my heart sponged clean of hate and misunder- 
 standing. How we are all caught in 'the 
 clutch of circumstance,' " she added with a 
 sigh. 
 
 He put his arms about her. 
 
 "He has made you sad." 
 
 "Do the scales ever balance, do you think? 
 The good you may have done, ever balance 
 the harm?" 
 
 "Who knows, Beloved?" 
 
 "What a pity that the reckoning comes at 
 the end." 
 
 There was a silence, which he broke with his 
 question. 
 
 "Dear, if I asked you what he asked you, 
 would you make me the same answer?" 
 
 "You mean?" she said, lifting her face to 
 look at him. 
 
 "Let me go, when you go." 
 
 "Ashton!" 
 
 She clung to him with sudden strength, she 
 kissed him with deep feeling. 
 
 "Best beloved, my dearest!" she cried to 
 him brokenly. 
 
 "I may come?" he asked softly. 
 
 "No no no." 
 
 "But you want me."
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 227 
 
 "As you want me to stay! But your work 
 is here. England needs you as never before. 
 We cannot both be traitor to her, dear." 
 
 "Oh, let me come," he pleaded. 
 
 "Must I ask a promise of you, Ashton?" 
 
 "Yes, and help me keep it!" 
 
 "Promise me that you will finish your work 
 here," she said solemnly. "Dearest^ to comfort 
 me," she begged when he was silent. 
 
 "I promise I will finish my work here," he 
 said after her. 
 
 She freed herself from his arms, with a 
 sigh. 
 
 "Now, what shall we do with this day?" she 
 asked him. 
 
 "What you will," he answered. 
 
 They determined on a horse-back journey 
 to some favourite woods, with luncheon in 
 knapsacks. They did not manage to recapture 
 the same care-free spirit which had been theirs 
 before Ivan Insull's visit, but they found help 
 for the ache he had left with them, in the 
 philosophy of trees, in the eternal fitness of 
 bird songs, and silence. 
 
 It was a day full of silent communion. They 
 came back from it, refreshed and renewed in 
 spirit, just as the sun flooded the earth with a
 
 228 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 largesse of colour and of glory. They dined 
 under the sky, and went into the moon-swept 
 garden afterward. 
 
 "Moon, ah, moon, of my delight " began 
 Roberta, but the frantic clutch of his fingers 
 stopped her. In her own heart she finished the 
 couplet : 
 
 "How often in this same garden, 
 Look for me in vain " 
 
 They made the rounds of all the paths, hand 
 in hand. They sat in the midst of the calm 
 beauty, speaking now and then, but knowing 
 a harmony which made words but clumsy coun- 
 ters. It was long after midnight when they 
 went into the house. Only once did they refer 
 to the morrow. 
 
 "To-morrow we decide the way?" he forced 
 himself to ask her. 
 
 "Yes, lover, to-morrow." 
 
 They made no pretence of sleep. In the 
 early morning he spoke gently : 
 
 "Dearest?" 
 
 She made no answer, hoping that he would 
 rest. He rose and quietly dressed and went 
 out. She knew that he sought strength for
 
 The Clutch of Circumstance 229 
 
 this day. She smiled. It was as she would 
 have it. 
 
 She lay her cheek for a little in the nest his 
 cheek had made in his pillow. Then close 
 to her heart, where the sight of it might not 
 offend her beloved's eyes, she pinned the little 
 cross. She wrote a line across the page, in a 
 book at her bedside, and she laid it open for 
 him. 
 
 There was a sort of transcendent calm in 
 Ashton Trask's face when he came into the 
 room. 
 
 "Beloved," he said to her, and yet again 
 "Beloved." 
 
 He went to her side, and even then he did 
 not know, until he touched her. Beautiful, 
 and calm, and smiling she faced him. 
 
 "Roberta," he whispered then his eye fell 
 on her message. 
 
 "Beloved," he read, "I am racing toward the 
 sun-up, but this day, I shall be on time! I 
 love you with my whole heart and soul. 'Hold 
 thou the lamp!'" 
 
 His eye followed to the words she marked: 
 
 Peace, my heart, let the time for parting be sweet, 
 Let it not be a death, but completeness.
 
 230 The Clutch of Circumstance 
 
 Let love melt into memory, and pain into songs. 
 Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of 
 
 wings over the nest. 
 Let the last touch of your hands be gentle, like the 
 
 flower of the night. 
 Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say 
 
 your last words in silence. 
 I bow to you, and hold up my lamp to light you on 
 
 your way. 
 
 He did not cry out, he did not flinch. He 
 looked upon her calmly, with a love which 
 equalled her demand of him. He stood above 
 her, so, many minutes, then he whispered : 
 
 "Beloved, I bow to you and hold up my lamp 
 to light you on your way!" 
 
 THE END
 
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 UCLAYRLILL 
 
 DUE: FEB 3 Z006 
 
 UCLA ACCESS 
 Interlibrary Loans 
 11 630 Young Rese? 
 BOX 951 575 
 Los Angeles, CA. 
 
 SERVICES BL 1 
 
 rch Library 
 910096-1575
 
 iiili'"" V->OQ A 1 C\ 1