"But I told you why," said Beth.
"You've always been telling me why."
"Jimmy," she burst out, "are you going to make me propose to you? Don't you see, you silly old dear, that that isn't a why any longer? You've been perfectly splendid to-night. You've thought of things and done things—and—— Oh, Jimmy, only for you where would everybody be to-morrow when the horrid Customs officers come to search the cave?"
Then, though very thirsty, Jimmy forgot about the beer. Ben Jonson, a dramatist and a poet who knew something about human nature and could express himself very prettily, says that kisses are to be preferred sometimes "even to Jove's nectar." Jimmy, tired, sore and grimy, in a stuffy cave, at the horrible hour of 4 a.m., found them more to be desired than much beer.
Chapter XIX
A good conscience is a priceless possession. Sir Evelyn had not broken the laws of his country by bringing into it forbidden things. With all his admiration for the smugglers of the eighteenth century, whose lives he studied, it would have been impossible for him to imitate them. Nor would he willingly have associated with a man who smuggled anything more than a box of cigars after a trip to the Channel Islands. The accusation of the egregious Mr. East left Sir Evelyn untroubled. Some incredibly absurd mistake had been made for which in due time an apology would be forthcoming. It was impossible that a pageant, in itself a highly commendable thing—a pageant under the patronage of a bishop, of a judge, of a man who had been Prime Minister, of Sir Evelyn Dent—should have been in reality a smuggling raid. Was he to suspect Mrs. Eames, a transparently honest though too talkative lady, of being a smuggler? And she had managed the whole affair from the beginning. Could he think that James Hinton, the very type of superior upper servant, that Linker, a most respectable shopkeeper with a taste for politics, had deliberately planned a disgraceful fraud? The idea was preposterous. And had not his own nephew, Lord Colavon, to whom the petty gains of illicit trading could be no temptation—had he not been in command of—had he not actually steered the lugger?
Someone in a Government office in London had blundered badly, and the ridiculous, tremulous Mr. East with his ultimatum and his threats could be forgotten as quickly as possible.
Nevertheless, Sir Evelyn could not quite forget Mr. East, and after a while he rose and rang the bell.
"If Lord Colavon is anywhere about the place," he said, "ask him to be so good as to come and speak to me here for a few minutes."
A servant searched for Lord Colavon in the house. A gardener sought him in the grounds. A man who cleaned the boots and carried coal reported that the Pallas Athene was not in the garage. It was surmised that Lord Colavon had not yet returned from the railway station to which he had conveyed the judge.