Hamerly was out when I arrived at his lodgings, called away suddenly for a couple of days, the maid reported. On my way back, however, I came to one very definite conclusion. Hamerly must have seen the man face to face in Dr. Heidenmuller’s laboratory. He could settle one vexed question anyway. I was going to find a picture of Regnier if there was one to be had.
I reached the Savoy to find word from Tom that he and Dorothy had gone over to the Cecil to see some friends. I followed, leaving word at the office that I had gone. As I stood in the corridor waiting, a page came by, calling my name for the telephone. I took up the receiver with a deep thrill of anticipation. “Orrington?”
“Yes.” It was one of our correspondents.
“War just declared between England and Germany. I have inside information that the fleets will meet in the Channel, to-morrow, off Dover. I suppose you’ll hunt your man there?”
“I’m off for the scene of battle by the first train,” I answered. “Much obliged,” and I hung up the receiver.
As I stepped out under the great awning at the head of the courtyard, the gayety and life of the full tide of evening was sweeping through. Beautifully dressed women, gallant men, life and youth and pleasure,—and to-morrow—what? Would a single one of those mighty ships, would one of those brave sailors return? As I stood there, a hush came. The news which I had heard had just been received. Then came a mighty roar, “War, War, War.” Then, as it died away, out burst a great increasing wave of song, the whole multitude joining in one mighty chorus, “God save the King.” I saw Dorothy hastening towards me, her lips quivering.
“Jim, have you got to go to sea?” she said stammering. “I’m so afraid no boat will ever return,” and she ended with a sob. I could wait no longer.
“Dear love,” I said, “I must, but I love you, dear, and if I die to-morrow or fifty years off, I love you and you alone,” and there, as the last bars of the song rang forth in the full tide of exaltation, as the clamor of the crowded street outside rose to its height, Dorothy and I came to our own.