The Rev. Cyril Mast extended patronage to Pentwin, who received it with a seemly gratitude.
“Of course,” said Mast, “as a member of the committee I have to exercise discretion. I can’t discuss the committee’s business.”
“Certainly not,” said Pentwin. “I shouldn’t expect it. Besides, I’m the least curious of men.”
“Apart from that, I shall be only too glad to put you up to things.”
“That’s really kind of you. I’m a new member, but I hope to spend many happy years here, and for that reason I don’t want to begin by treading on the toes of other members. You understand what I mean. Nobody has said a word to me about Pentwin’s Popular Bank, and I appreciate that. It shows nice feeling. Before I make any blunder, you can perhaps tell me what subjects to avoid with particular members.”
They chatted over the subject, and Mast became from force of habit rather vinously and aggressively moral on the sins of other people. He noticed it himself and half apologised for it.
“You see, Pentwin, I have never been able to shut my eyes to the serious side of life. Have another drink?”
“Thank you, I will,” said Pentwin, and did.
All went smoothly and peacefully now at the Exiles’ Club. A tentative order to King Smith had been received and executed with alacrity, and so far he had shown no disposition to quarrel with the men whose partnership he was renouncing. Members of the club who had had fears of what Lechworthy might do had been quieted by Sir John, or Hanson, or Mast. It had all been arranged, they were told. Pryce, clever fellow, had got Lechworthy’s promise of silence in exchange for his professional services to Lechworthy’s niece. Mast had the feeling of elation which comes to a man who after a period of depression finds himself becoming of importance. Sir John, after his talk with the chess-player in the garden, had talked very seriously to Mast. “We have a new scheme on foot,” he said. “Pryce is not in it, and you are.” Nothing could have made Mast better pleased. True, he was not told what the scheme was. Until Lechworthy’s departure nothing was to be done except the first formal step towards the winding up of the club; and it was generally to be given out that Pryce had squared Lechworthy. “Once Lechworthy has gone,” said Sir John, “you’ll be called upon to act. You’ll be shown what to do. Do it, and you’ll wipe out your past follies, and the new scheme will go through and we shall all be safe.”
Sir John had considered that whoever killed King Smith would be very lucky indeed if he escaped being killed in his turn. Mast had made the trouble, and had professed his readiness to redeem his mistake. Mast could be spared, for he had greatly deteriorated since his election to the committee. He might as well die that way as from drink. Hanson had planned the game; Sir John would play it; Mast would be merely a miserable pawn, gladly sacrificed for the great end.