“Intimately?”
“I met him this afternoon for the first time.”
“Then you can’t be said really to know Higginbotham. That’s a pity, because without a close and intimate knowledge of Higginbotham, you’re not in a position to understand that geological survey story. Take my advice and drop the whole subject until you know Higginbotham better. After spending a few days on the island in constant intercourse with Higginbotham you’ll be able to understand the whole thing. Then you’ll appreciate it. In the meanwhile, I’m sure you won’t mind my adding, since we are on the subject,—and it was you who introduced it—that you ought not to go leaping to conclusions without a proper knowledge of the facts. I said the same thing this morning to Major Kent, when he insisted that you had come here to search for buried treasure.”
Mr. Willoughby pulled himself together with an effort. He felt a sense of bewilderment and hopeless confusion. The sensation was familiar. He had experienced it before in the House of Commons when the Irish members of both parties asked questions on the same subject. He knew that his only chance was to ignore side-issues, however fascinating, and get back at once to the original point.
“I’m willing,” he said, “to listen to any explanation you have to offer; but I do not see how Mr. Higginbotham’s character alters, or can alter, the fact that you told him what I can only describe as an outrageous lie.”
“The worst thing about you Englishmen is that you have such blunt minds. You don’t appreciate the lights and shades, the finer nuances, what I may perhaps describe as the chiaroscuro of things. It’s just the same with my friend Major Kent. By the way, I ought to apologise for him. He ought to have come ashore and called upon you this afternoon. It isn’t a want of loyalty which prevented him. He’s a strong Unionist and on principle he respects His Majesty’s Ministers, whatever party they belong to. The fact is, he was a bit nervous about this geological survey business. He didn’t know exactly how you’d take it. I told him that you were a reasonable man, and that you’d see the thing in a proper light, but he wouldn’t come.”
“Will you kindly tell me what is the proper light in which to view this extraordinary performance of yours?”
“Certainly. It will be a little difficult, of course, when you don’t know Higginbotham, but I’ll try.”
“Leave Mr. Higginbotham out,” said the Chief Secretary, irritably. “Tell me simply this: Were you justified in making a statement which you knew to be a baseless invention? How do you explain the fact that you told a deliberate—that you didn’t tell the truth?”
“I’ve always heard of you as an educated man. I may assume that you know all about pragmatism.”