Now I comprehend Birley's silence. Now I comprehend why Sir Alec goes on talking, and why he looks puzzled at any interruption, and why he could only smile when he got the cue, as it were, from his companion, and was made aware that there had been something said which required to be smiled at.
I relapse into silence. I accept an excellent cigar from Sir Alec, and I let him talk for the rest of the evening uninterruptedly, until he looks at his watch, says that nine-thirty is late enough for him, that he has enjoyed his evening with us amazingly, and goes off to bed.
"Agreeable old chap," says Birley, stretching out his legs, preparatory to taking a short stroll. "Seen a lot of life has old Alec. He's a capital Chairman at a Board-meeting. Just deaf enough when he doesn't want to hear any arguments. I let him talk on."
"So I see," I say, and we walk out to bid good-night to Mont Blanc.
"The Mons looks like a warrior taking his rest—his last rest," says Birley, gravely, giving me a subdued nudge. "Napoleon the Great, and his cocked hat, carved out of white stone. Ah!" and, meditatively we linger, and then walk slowly back to the Hotel.
"We'll take old Alec to his warm bath at Evian-les-Bains to-morrow," says Birley. "Good night." Then he pauses on the stairs, as with a wink full of fun, and last playful nudge, he says, "I suppose you'll let him have all the talk to himself, eh? Won't you? Ha! ha! I shall."
My friend Skurrie to whom his own Plan of Return, which I have accepted, is as the law of the Medes and Persians, says he will give me three days more for Geneva and Birley, and that then we must emphatically start homewards as he insists on Jane and myself seeing Heidelberg en route and every half hour of our time from Wednesday to Monday is so carefully adjusted that to miss one train will upset all the plans he has taken such pains and trouble to arrange for us. I am closeted with him for two hours, when he explains it all to me, gives me, so to speak, the key of the puzzle, insists on my verifying the items by Cook's Tourist Train-Book (an invaluable work), and then reducing it to writing. After this I am headachey, and exhausted.
[P.S.—Revising this, long after the event, I say, "Beware of Skurrie and his fixed plan of sight-seeing against time.">[