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Computer Hacking
Forensic Investigator
(CHFI)

Introduction
 Introductions

~ Name

~ Company Affiliation

~ Title / Function

~ Job Responsibility

~ System security related experience

~Expectations

EC-Council
 Course Materials

~ Identity Card
~ Student Courseware
~ Lab Manual/Workbook
~ CHFI Lab Files
~ Knoppix CD-ROM
~ Course Evaluation
~ Reference Materials

EC-Council
 Course Outline

~ Module I: Computer Forensics in Today’s World

~ Module II: Law And Computer Forensics
~ Module III: Computer Investigation Process
~ Module IV: Computer Security Incident Response
Team
~ Module V: Computer Forensic Laboratory
Requirements
~ Module VI: Understanding File systems and Hard
disks
~ Module VII: Windows Forensics

EC-Council
 Course Outline (contd.)

~ Module VIII: Linux and Macintosh Boot processes

~ Module IX: Linux Forensics
~ Module XX: Data Acquisition and Duplication
~ Module XI: Recovering Deleted Files
~ Module XII: Image Files Forensics
~ Module XIII: Steganography
~ Module XIV: Computer Forensic Tools

EC-Council
 Course Outline (contd.)

~ Module XV: Application password crackers

~ Module XVI: Investigating Logs
~ Module XVII: Investigating network traffic
~ Module XVIII: Router Forensics
~ Module XIX: Investigating Web Attacks
~ Module XX: Tracking E-mails and Investigating E-
mail crimes

EC-Council
 Course Outline (contd.)

~ Module XXI: Mobile and PDA Forensics

~ Module XXII: Investigating Trademark and
Copyright Infringement
~ Module XXIII: Investigative Reports
~ Module XIV: Becoming an Expert Witness
~ Module XXV: Forensics in action

EC-Council
 EC-Council Certified e- business
Certification Program
There are several levels of certification tracks under EC-Council Accreditation
body:
1. Certified e-Business Associate

2. Certified e-Business Professional

3. Certified e-Business Consultant

4. E++ Certified Technical Consultant

5. Certified Ethical Hacker (CEH)

6. Computer Hacking Forensic Investigator (CHFI) Å You are here

7. EC-Council Certified Security Analyst (ECSA)

8. EC-Council Certified Secure Programmer (ECSA)

9. Certified Secure Application Developer (CSAD)

10. Licensed Penetration Tester (LPT)

11. Master of Security Science (MSS)

EC-Council
 EC-Council CHFI Exam

EC-Council
 Student Facilities

Class Hours

Building Hours Phones

Parking Messages

Restrooms Smoking

Meals Recycling

EC-Council
 Lab Sessions

~ Lab Sessions are designed

to reinforce the classroom
sessions
~ The sessions are intended
to give a hands on
experience only and does
not guarantee proficiency.

EC-Council
Computer Hacking
Forensics Investigator

Module I
Computer Forensics in
Today’s World
 Scenario

Steven is the managing director of a

respected software company. After finding
pornography downloaded on his network
server and a number of individual office
computers, he decided to hire a computer
forensics investigator to build a case for
employee dismissal.
The Investigator was hired to locate deleted
files if any and verify certain non-work
related contents of the hard drives in
question. The investigator was able to
locate spy software, pornography, illegal
file-sharing software from the hard drive of
the suspicious employee. This led to
employee dismissal.

Copyright © by EC-Council
EC-Council All rights reserved. Reproduction is strictly prohibited
 Module Objective

~Introduction to computer forensics

~History of computer forensics
~Computer forensics flaws and risks
~Cyber crime
~Role of computer forensics
~Reason for cyber attacks
~Modes of attacks
~Cyber war
Copyright © by EC-Council
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 Module Flow

Introduction History

Forensics flaws
Cyber crime and risks

Role of computer
Reason for cyber attacks
forensics

Cyber war Modes of attacks

Copyright © by EC-Council
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 Introduction

~ Cyber activity has become an

important part of everyday life of the
general public
~ Importance of computer forensics:
• 85% of business and government
agencies detected security breaches
• FBI estimates that the United States
loses up to $10 billion a year to
cyber crime

Copyright © by EC-Council
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 History of Forensics

~Francis Galton (1822-1911)

• Made the first recorded study of fingerprints
~Leone Lattes (1887-1954)
• Discovered blood groupings (A,B,AB, & 0)
~Calvin Goddard (1891-1955)
• Allowed Firearms and bullet comparison
for solving many pending court cases
~Albert Osborn (1858-1946)
• Developed essential features of document examination
~Hans Gross (1847-1915)
• Made use of scientific study to head criminal investigations
~FBI (1932)
• A Lab was set up to provide forensic services to all field agents and
other law authorities throughout the country

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 Definition of Forensic Science

Definition:
–“Application of physical sciences to law in the
search for truth in civil, criminal and social
behavioral matters to the end that injustice shall
not be done to any member of society”
(Source: Handbook of Forensic Pathology College of
American Pathologists 1990)

–Aim: determining the evidential value of

crime scene and related evidence

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 Definition of Computer Forensics

Definition:
“A methodical series of techniques and procedures for
gathering evidence, from computing equipment and
various storage devices and digital media, that can be
presented in a court of law in a coherent and
meaningful format”
- Dr. H.B. Wolfe

Copyright © by EC-Council
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 What Is Computer Forensics?

~ According to Steve Hailey, Cybersecurity

Institute
“The preservation, identification, extraction,
interpretation, and documentation of computer
evidence, to include the rules of evidence, legal
processes, integrity of evidence, factual reporting of
the information found, and providing expert opinion
in a court of law or other legal and/or
administrative proceeding as to what was found.”

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 Need for Computer Forensics

~ “Computer forensics is equivalent of surveying a

crime scene or performing an autopsy on a victim”.
{Source: James Borek 2001}
~ Presence of a majority of electronic documents
nowadays
~ Search and identify data in a computer
~ Digital Evidence is delicate in nature
~ For recovering
• Deleted,
• Encrypted or,
• Corrupted files from a system

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 Evolution of Computer Forensics

~ 1984 - FBI Computer Analysis and

Response Team (CART) emerged
~ 1991 - International Law Enforcement
meeting was conducted to discuss
computer forensics & the need for
standardized approach
~ 1997 - Scientific Working Group on
Digital Evidence (SWGDE) was
established to develop standards
~ 2001 - Digital Forensic Research
Workshop (DFRWS) was held
• http://www.dfrws.org/

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 Computer Forensics Flaws and Risks

~ Computer forensics is in its early or

development stages
~ It is different from other forensic sciences as
digital evidence is examined
~ There is a little theoretical knowledge based up
on which empirical hypothesis testing is done
~ Designations are not entirely professional
~ There is a lack of proper training
~ There is no standardization of tools
~ It is still more of an “Art” than a “Science”
Copyright © by EC-Council
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 Corporate Espionage Statistics

~ Corporate computer security budgets

increased at an average of 48% in
2002
~ 62% of the corporate companies had
their systems compromised by virus
~ FBI statistics reveal that more than
100 nations are engaged in corporate
espionage against US companies
~ More than 2230 documented
incidents of corporate espionage by
the year 2003
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 Modes of Attacks

~ Cyber crime falls into two categories depending

on the ways attack take place
~ Following are the two types of attacks
1.Insider Attacks
2.External Attacks

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 Cyber Crime

~ Cyber crime is defined as

“Any illegal act involving a computer, its systems, or
its applications”
~ The crime must be intentional and not
accidental.
~ Cyber crime is divided into 3 T’s
• Tools of the crime
• Target of the crime
• Tangential to the crime

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 Examples of Cyber Crime

~ A few examples of cyber crime

include:
• Theft of intellectual property
• Damage of company service networks
• Financial fraud
• Hacker system penetrations
• Denial of Service Attacks
• Planting of virus and worms

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 Reason for Cyber Attacks

~ Motivation for cyber attacks

1. Experimentation and a desire for
script kiddies to learn
2. Psychological needs
3. Misguided trust in other individuals
4. Revenge and malicious reasons
5. Desire to embarrass the target
6. Espionage - corporate and
governmental

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 Role of Computer Forensics in Tracking
Cyber Criminals
~ Identifying the crime
~ Gathering the evidence
~ Building a chain of custody
~ Analyzing the evidence
~ Presenting the evidence
~ Testifying
~ Prosecution

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 Rules of Computer Forensics

~ Minimize the option of examining the original

evidence
~ Obey rules of evidence
~ Never exceed the knowledge base
~ Document any changes in evidence

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 Computer Forensics Methodologies

The 3 A’s
~ Acquire evidence without modification or
corruption
~ Authenticate that the recovered evidence is same
as the originally seized data
~ Analyze data without any alterations

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 Accessing Computer Forensics Resources
~ Resources can be referred by joining various
discussion groups such as:
– Computer Technology Investigators Northwest
– High Technology Crime Investigation Association
~ Joining a network of computer forensic experts
and other professionals
~ News services devoted to computer forensics
can also be a powerful resource
~ Other resources:
• Journals of forensic investigators
• Actual case studies

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 Preparing for Computing Investigations

~ Computing investigations fall under two

distinct categories:

1. Public Investigation
2. Corporate Investigation

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 Maintaining professional conduct

~ Professional conduct determines the credibility

of a forensic investigator
~ Investigators must display the highest level of
ethics and moral integrity
~ Confidentiality is an essential feature which all
forensic investigators must display
~ Discuss the case at hand only with person who
has the right to know

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 Understanding Enforcement Agency
Investigations
Enforcement agency investigations include:

1. Tools used to commit the crime

2. Reason for the crime
3. Type of crime
4. Infringement on someone else’s rights by
cyberstalking

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 Understanding Corporate Investigations

~ Involve private companies who address company

policy violations and litigation disputes
~ Company procedures should continue without any
interruption from the investigation
~ After the investigation the company should
minimize or eliminate similar litigations
~ Industrial espionage is the foremost crime in
corporate investigations

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 Investigation Process
~ Identification
• Detecting/identifying the event/crime.
~ Preservation
• Chain of Evidence, Documentation.
~ Collection
• Data recovery, evidence collection.
~ Examination
• Tracing, Filtering, Extracting hidden data.
~ Analysis
• Analyzing evidence
~ Presentation
• Investigation report, Expert witness
~ Decision
• Report Copyright © by EC-Council
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 Digital Forensics

The use of scientifically unexpressed and proven

methods towards the
~ Preserving
~ Collecting
~ Confirming Digital evidence extracted
~ Identifying
from digital sources
~ Analyzing
~ Recording
~ Presenting

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 Summary

~ The need for computer forensics has grown to a

large extent due to the presence of a majority of
digital documents
~ A computer can be used as a tool for investigation or
as evidence
~ Minimize the option of examining the original
evidence
~ 3A’s of Computer forensics methodologies are –
Acquire, Authenticate, and Analyze
~ A computer forensic investigator must be aware of
the steps involved in the investigative process
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Computer Hacking
Forensic Investigator

Module II
Law And Computer
Forensics
 Scenario

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 Module Objectives

~ Introduction to cyber law ~To initiate an investigation

and computer forensics
~Legal issues involved in
~Reporting security seizure of computer
breaches to law enforcement equipments.
~Federal computer crimes
~Privacyissues regarding
and laws
computer forensics.
~ Building the cyber crime
case ~International issues related
~ How the FBI investigates to computer forensics
computer crime ~Cyber crime investigations

Copyright © by EC-Council
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 Module Flow

Cyber law and computer forensics Reporting security breaches

Building cyber crime case Federal computer crimes and laws

How the FBI investigates cyber crime To initiate investigation

Privacy issues involved Legal issues involved

International issues involved Cyber crime investigation

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 What Is Cyber Crime?

~ Crime directed against a computer

~ Crime where the computer contains evidence
~ Crime where the computer is used as a tool to
commit the crime
“Any crime in which computer-related technology
is encountered.”

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 What Is Computer Forensics ?

~ Discipline using predefined

procedures to thoroughly examine a
computer system to extract the
evidence
~ Methodology:
• Acquire
• Authenticate
• Analyze

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 Computer Facilitated Crimes

~ Dependency on computer has given way to new

criminal opportunities
~ Computer is used as a tool for committing
crimes
~ Computer crimes are posing new challenges for
investigators due to the following reasons:
• Speed
• Anonymity
• Fleeting nature of evidence

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 Reporting Security Breaches to Law
Enforcement - A
Type of crime Appropriate federal
investigative Law
Agencies
Computer intrusion ~FBI local office
(i.e. hacking) ~U.S. Secret Service
~Internet Fraud Complaint Center

Password trafficking ~FBI local office

~U.S. Secret Service
~Internet Fraud Complaint Center

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 Reporting Security Breaches to Law
Enforcement - B
Internet fraud and ~FBI local office
SPAM ~U.S. Secret Service (Financial Crimes
Division)
~Federal Trade Commission (online
complaint)
~ Securities and Exchange
Commission (online complaint)
~The Internet Fraud Complaint
Center

Internet harassment ~FBI local office

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 Reporting Security Breaches to Law
Enforcement - C
Child Pornography or ~FBI local office
Exploitation ~U.S. Customs and Border
Patrol Protection local office
~Internet Fraud Complaint Center

Copyright (software, ~FBI local office

movie, sound ~If imported, U.S. Customs and
recording) piracy Border Patrol Protection local
Office
~Internet Fraud Complaint Center

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 Reporting Security Breaches to Law
Enforcement - D
Theft of trade secrets ~FBI local office

Trademark ~FBI local office

counterfeiting ~Ifimported, U.S. Customs and
Border Patrol Protection local office
~Internet Fraud Complaint Center
Trafficking in explosive ~FBI local office
or incendiary devices ~ATF local office
or firearms over the
Internet

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Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 And there’s gold in the creek and the sands of the sea,
So ho! for the smuggler’s cargo!

It meant nothing, of course—a kind of “Pirates of Penzance”

absurdity—but the little tune was beating in his brain.
Half-way up the hill there is the market-place, standing on a
raised plateau as it were, with the town-hall as its central glory.
They drove through with difficulty, because there was a fair that
filled the market and overflowed into the crooked streets up and
down the hill. They only caught a passing glimpse as they bumped
and stumbled through: a merry-go-round and rows of booths and
shouting crowds of men and girls, and a strange toothless old
woman in a peaked hat seated on a barrel and selling sweets.
“How they can allow it I don’t know!” Mrs. Maradick leant back
from the window. “One might as well—Whitechapel, you know, and
all that sort of thing.”
The last turn of the road to the hotel was very steep indeed, and
the weight of the boxes seemed to accumulate with every step; the
horses strained and tugged, and for a moment they hesitated and
half slid backward, then with a hoarse shout from the driver, a
gigantic straining of limb and muscle, they were through the hotel
gates. For the hotel stands in its own grounds, and, as you approach
it up a drive of larch and birch, its privacy is startling and unusual.
One hundred years before it had been the manor of the estate,
the feudal castle of a feudal town, ruling, like some Italian despot,
the country at its feet. Then its masters had fallen at the feet of the
Juggernaut of modern civilisation and improvement, and their
tyranny had passed into the hands of others. For some years the
house had lain desolate and threatened to fall into utter ruin and
decay; its gardens had been transformed into a wilderness, and its
rooms had gathered dust and mildew into their quarters. Then in
1850 or thereabouts young Mr. Bannister of Manchester had seen his
chance. Treliss, at that time, was an obscure and minute village of
no fame whatever; but it had fishing, colour and bathing, so Mr.
Bannister seized his opportunity.
 He had large resources at his back and a very original brain at his
service, so he set to work and was immediately successful. He had
no intention of turning it into a modern watering-place—there was
enough of that (speaking now of 1860) to be done elsewhere—he
had Pendragon and Port Looth in his mind. No, he would let it keep
its character—indeed, he would force it to keep its character. For
some years there were other things to do and his plans were still in
embryo; then in 1870 (no longer young Mr. Bannister, but stout and
prosperous Mr. Bannister) he took the house in hand.
He interfered in no way with its original character. There were a
great many alterations, of course, but, through it all, it retained that
seventeenth-century charm and spaciousness—that air of surprise
and unexpected corners, the sudden visions of hidden gardens
bordered by close-clipped box and the broad depths of wide stone
staircases and dark oak panelling—a charm that was to be found in
no other hotel in England, a delicious survival that gave you
seventeenth-century England without any of its discomforts and
drawbacks, sanitary or otherwise.
For now, in 1908, it had all the very latest improvements. There
were lifts, and the very best methods of ventilation; the electric light
was of a delicious softness, and carpets and chairs were so luxurious
that it was difficult to force oneself outside. But then, when you
were outside, you wondered how you could ever stay in; for there
were lawns with the most wonderful views of the sea and tennis and
croquet and badminton and—and now the Maradicks were at the
door.
There were several people scattered about the grounds who
watched them with curiosity; but it was nearly dressing-time, and
already the shadows were lengthening over the lawns and the yews
flung long fantastic shapes over the roses and pinks. There was a
little breeze in the tops of the trees, and very faintly, like some
distant solemn music, came the roll of the sea.
The doors closed on the Maradicks.
 CHAPTER III
IN WHICH THE ADMONITUS LOCORUM BEGINS TO HAVE FUN
WITH TWO ENTIRELY RESPECTABLE MEMBERS OF
SOCIETY

The hall of the “Man at Arms” was ever a place of mystery. The
high roof seemed to pass into infinite space, and on every side there
appeared passages and dark oaken doors that led, one fancied, into
the very heart of secrecy.
At the other end, opposite to the great doors, was the wide stone
staircase leading to other floors, and down the passages to right and
left deep-set windows let in shafts of light.
Mrs. Maradick greeted Mr. Bannister cordially, but with reserve.
He was a little stout man like a top, scrupulously neat and always
correct. He liked to convey to his guests the spirit of the place—that
they were received from no mercenary point of view, but rather with
the greeting of a friend. Of course, there would ultimately be a bill—
it was only the horrid necessity of these, our grasping times—but let
it be forgotten and put aside until the final leave-taking. He would
have preferred, if possible, to send bills afterwards by post, directed
by another hand; but that gave opportunity to unscrupulous
adventurers. He would have liked to have entertained the whole
world, at any rate the whole social world, free of charge; as it was—
well, the bills were heavy. He was always disappointed when his
guests failed to grasp this point of view; sometimes they were
blustering and domineering, sometimes they were obsequious and
timorous—either manner was disagreeable.
About Mrs. Maradick he was never quite sure. He was afraid that
she scarcely grasped the whole situation; there was no doubt that
she found it impossible to eliminate the bill altogether.
“And our rooms?”
Mrs. Maradick looked up at him. She was smiling, but it was a
smile that threatened to disappear.
 “I think you will be completely satisfied, Mrs. Maradick. A most
delightful suite on the second floor with a view of the sea——”
“Ah—but our rooms. My husband wrote, I think. We had the
same last year—I——”
“I’m afraid that there’s been a little difficulty. We had had
previous orders. I would have written to explain had I not been sure
that the rooms that we had allotted you would be completely
satisfactory.”
“Now, Mr. Bannister, that is too bad of you.” The smile had gone
and her eyes flashed. There was to be a battle as she had foreseen.
“We had the same trouble last year, I think——”
“I am extremely sorry, Mrs. Maradick.” He watched her a little
anxiously. This was one of the occasions on which he was not
certain of her. Would she remember the true ethics of the situation?
He hoped for her sake that she would. “I am really very sorry, but I
am afraid in this case that there is nothing to be done. Sir Richard
and Lady Gale ordered the rooms so long ago as last Christmas. It is
of some importance to him, I believe, owing to reasons of health.
They laid some stress on it.”
“Lady Gale?”
“Yes.” Mr. Bannister smiled again. “Really, Mrs. Maradick, I think
that you would be perfectly satisfied with your rooms if you would
come up for a moment.”
“Is Lady Gale here?” Mrs. Maradick was considering.
“Yes. They arrived last night.”
“Well,” this slowly and with hesitation, “let us go and see them,
James. One never knows, after all.”
Maradick was relieved. He always waited in the background
during these interviews—there were many throughout the year. But
this was delightfully over. Had it been the Jones’s! Well, he had no
doubt that it would have been a prolonged struggle; after all, there
was a difference.
Mrs. Maradick hurried to the lift, her girls in close attendance,
and Mr. Bannister at her side. Maradick was about to follow, when he
felt a touch on his elbow and turned round. At his side stood a
young man with dark curly hair and a snub nose; not snub enough
to mind, but just enough to give you the impression that “everything
turned up”—the corners of his mouth and the tips of his ears.
He seemed very young indeed, and had that very clean, clear
skin that is the best thing in a decent young man; at least, that is
more or less how Maradick summed him up. He was in evening
dress, and it suited him.
“I say, I’m most awfully sorry.”
He was smiling, so Maradick smiled too.
“I beg your pardon,” he said.
“About the rooms, you know. It is my people—my name is Gale—
who have them. I’m afraid it was most annoying, and I’m sure my
mother will be extremely sorry.” He blushed and stammered.
“Oh, please——” Maradick felt quite embarrassed. “It really
doesn’t matter at all. My wife liked those rooms—we were there last
year—and she’s naturally asked about them; but these others will
suit us splendidly.”
“No, but your being there last year seems almost as though you
had a right, doesn’t it? It is true about my father, it makes rather a
difference to him, and they are ripping rooms.”
“Yes, of course,” Maradick laughed again, “we shall be perfectly
comfortable.”
There was a moment’s pause. There was nothing more to say:
then suddenly, simultaneously—“It’s very decent . . .” and at that
they laughed again. Then Maradick hurried up the stairs.
The boy stayed where he was, the smile lingering at the corners
of his mouth. Although it was half-past seven the daylight streamed
into the hall. People were passing to and fro, and every now and
again glanced at him and caught his infectious smile.
“By Jove, a pretty woman, but a bit of a Tartar,” he said, thinking
of Mrs. Maradick; then he turned round and walked up the stairs,
down a passage to the right, and in a moment young Gale had
opened their sitting-room door. The rooms under discussion were
certainly very delightful and the view was charming, down over the
town and out to the sea beyond. There were glimpses of the
crooked streets and twisted gables, and, at last, the little stone pier
and a crowd of herring-boats sheltering under its protection.
 In the sitting-room was Lady Gale, waiting to go down to dinner.
At this time she was about fifty years of age, but she was straight
and tall as she had been at twenty. In her young days as Miss
Laurence, daughter of Sir Douglas Laurence, the famous
Egyptologist, she had been a beauty, and she was magnificent now
with a mass of snow-white hair that, piled high on her head, seemed
a crown worthily bestowed on her as one of the best and gentlest
women of her generation; but perhaps it was her eyes that made
you conscious at once of being in the presence of some one whose
judgment was unswerving with a tenderness of compassion that
made her the confidante of all the failures and wastrels of her day.
“Lady Gale will tell you that you are wrong,” some one once said of
her; “but she will tell you so that her condemnation is better than
another person’s praise.”
At her side stood a man of about thirty, strikingly resembling her
in many ways, but lacking in animation and intelligence. You felt that
his carefully controlled moustache was the most precious thing
about him, and that the cut of his clothes was of more importance
than the cut of his character.
“Well, Tony?” Lady Gale greeted him as he closed the door
behind him. “Getting impatient? Father isn’t ready. I told him that
we’d wait for him; and Alice hasn’t appeared——”
“No, not a bit.” He came over to her and put his hand on her
shoulder. “I’m not hungry, as a matter of fact, too big a tea. Besides,
where’s Alice?”
“Coming. She told us not to wait, but I suppose we’d better.”
“Oh, I say! Mother! I’ve discovered the most awfully decent
fellow downstairs, really; I hope that we shall get to know him. He
looks a most thundering good sort.”
The red light from the setting sun had caught the church spire
and the roofs of the market-place; the town seemed on fire; the
noise of the fair came discordantly up to them.
“Another of your awfully decent chaps!” This from his brother.
“My dear Tony, you discover a new one every week. Only I wish you
wouldn’t thrust them on to us. What about the charming painter
who borrowed your links and never returned them, and that
delightful author-fellow who was so beastly clever that he had to fly
the country——?”
“Oh, chuck it, Rupert. Of course one makes mistakes. I learnt a
lot from Allison, and I know he always meant to send the links back
and forgot; anyhow he’s quite welcome to them. But this chap’s all
right—he is really—he looks jolly decent——”
“Yes; but, Tony,” said his mother, laughing, “I agree with Rupert
there. Make your odd acquaintances if you like, but don’t bring them
down on to us; for instance, that horrid little fat man you liked so
much at one time, the poet——”
“Oh, Trelawny. He’s all right now. He’s going to do great things
one day.”
“And meanwhile borrows money that he never intends to repay.
No, Tony, these sudden acquaintances are generally a mistake, take
my word for it. How long have you known this man downstairs?”
“Only a minute. He’s just arrived with his wife and two little girls.”
“And you know him already?”
“Well, you see his wife wanted these rooms—said she ordered
them or something—and then went for old Bannister about it, and
he, naturally enough, said that we’d got them; and then he stuck it
on about their rooms and said that they were much the nicest rooms
in the place, and then she went off fairly quiet.”
“Well, where did the man come in?”
“He didn’t at all, and, from the look of her, I shouldn’t think that
he ever does. But I went up and said I was jolly sorry, and all that
sort of thing——”
“Well, I’m——!” from Rupert. “Really, Tony! And what on earth
was there to apologise for! If we are going to start saying pretty
things to everyone in the hotel who wants these rooms we’ve got
our work cut out.”
“Oh! I didn’t say pretty things; I don’t know why I really said
anything at all. The spirit moved me, I suppose. I’m going to be
friends with that man. I shall like him.”
“How do you know?”
“By three infallible signs. He looks you straight in the eyes, he’s
got a first-class laugh, and he doesn’t say much.”
 “Characteristics of most of the scoundrels in the kingdom,”
Rupert said, yawning. “By Jove! I wish father and Alice would hurry
up.”
A girl came in at that moment; Tony danced round her and then
caught her hand and led her to his mother.
“Your Majesty! I have the honour of presenting her Grace the
Duchess of——”
But the girl broke from him. “Don’t, Tony, please, you’re
upsetting things. Please, Lady Gale, can’t we go down? I’m so
hungry that no ordinary dinner will ever satisfy me.”
“Don’t you pretend, Alice,” cried Tony, laughing. “It’s the dress,
the whole dress, and nothing but the dress. That we may astonish
this our town of Treliss is our earnest and most humble desire.” He
stopped. “It is high time, you know, mother; nearly half-past eight.”
“I know, but it’s your father. You might go and see if he’s nearly
ready, Tony.”
As he moved across the room her eyes followed him with a
devotion that was the most beautiful thing in the world. Then she
turned to the girl.
Miss Alice Du Cane was looking very lovely indeed. Her dress was
something wonderful in pink, and that was all that the ordinary
observer would have discovered about it; very beautiful and soft,
tumbling into all manner of lines and curves and shades as she
walked. Quite one of the beauties of the season, Miss Alice Du Cane,
and one of the loveliest visions that your dining-halls are likely to
behold, Mr. Bannister! She was dark and tall and her smile was
delightful—just a little too obviously considered, perhaps, but
nevertheless delightful!
“Yes, dear, you look very nice.” Lady Gale smiled at her. “I only
wish that all young ladies nowadays would be content to dress as
simply; but, of course, they haven’t all got your natural advantages!”
Then the door opened once more and Sir Richard Gale appeared,
followed closely by Tony. He was a man of magnificent presence and
wonderful preservation, and he was probably the most completely
selfish egoist in the kingdom; on these two facts he had built his
reputation. The first gave him many admirers and the second gave
him many enemies, and a splendid social distinction was the result.
He was remarkably handsome, in a military-cum-Embassy
manner; that is, his moustache, his walk, and the swing of his
shoulders were all that they should be. He walked across the room
most beautifully, but, perhaps, just a little too carefully, so that he
gave the onlooker the impression of something rather precariously
kept together—it was the only clue to his age.
He spent his life in devising means of enabling his wife to give
sign and evidence to the world of her affection. He was entirely
capricious and unreliable, and took violent dislikes to very many
different kinds of people. He had always been a very silent man, and
now his conversation was limited to monosyllables; he disliked
garrulous persons, but expected conversation to be maintained.
The only thing that he said now was “Dinner!” but everyone
knew what he meant, and an advance was made: Lady Gale and her
husband, Miss Du Cane between Rupert and Tony, accompanied by
laughter and a good deal of wild jesting on the part of the last
named.
The going in to dinner at home was always a most solemn affair,
even when no one save the family were present. Sir Richard was
seen at his best in the minutes during which the procession lasted,
and it symbolised the dignity and solemnity befitting his place and
family. The Gales go in to dinner! and then, Sir Richard Gale goes in
to dinner!—it was the moment of the day.
And now how greatly was the symbolism increased. Here we are
in the heart of the democracy, sitting down with our fellow-
creatures, some of whom are most certainly commoners, sitting
down without even a raised platform; not at the same table, it is
true, but nevertheless on the same floor, beneath the same ceiling!
It was indeed a wonderful and truly British ceremony.
He generally contrived to be a little late, but to-day they were
very late indeed, and his shoulders were raised just a little higher
and his head was just a little loftier than usual.
The room was full, and many heads were raised as they entered.
They were a fine family, no doubt—Sir Richard, Lady Gale, Rupert—
all distinguished and people at whom one looked twice, and then
Alice was lovely. It was only Tony, perhaps, who might have been
anybody; just a nice clean-looking boy people were inclined to call
him, but they always liked him. Their table was at the other end of
the room, and the procession was slow. Tony always hated it
—“making a beastly monkey-show of oneself and the family”—but
his father took his time.
The room was charming, with just a little touch of something
unusual. Mr. Bannister liked flowers, but he was wise in his use of
them; and every table had just that hint of colour, red and blue and
gold, that was needed, without any unnecessary profusion.
There were a great many people—the season was at its height—
and the Maradicks, although late, were fortunate to have secured a
table by the windows. The girls were tired and were going to have
supper in bed—a little fish, some chicken and some shape—Mrs.
Maradick had given careful directions.
Through the windows came the scents of the garden and a tiny
breeze that smelt of the sea. There were wonderful colours on the
lawn outside. The moon was rising, a full moon like a stiff plate of
old gold, and its light flung shadows and strange twisted shapes
over the grass. The trees stood, tall and dark, a mysterious barrier
that fluttered and trembled in the little wind and was filled with the
whispers of a thousand voices. Beyond that again was the light pale
quivering blue of the night-sky, in which flashed and wheeled and
sparkled the stars.
Mr. and Mrs. Maradick were playing the game very thoroughly to-
night; you could not have found a more devoted couple in the room.
She looked charming in her fragile, kittenish manner, something
fluffy and white and apparently simple, with a slender chain of gold
at her throat and a small spray of diamonds in her hair. She was
excited, too, by the place and the people and the whole change.
This was, oh! most certainly! better than Epsom, and Mrs. Martin
Fraser and Louie had faded into a very distant past. This was her
métier!—this, with its lights and its fashion! Why didn’t they live in
London, really in London? She must persuade James next year. It
would be better for the girls, too, now that they were growing up;
and they might even find somewhere with a garden. She chattered
continuously and watched for the effect on her neighbours. She had
noticed one man whisper, and several people had looked across.
“It is so wonderful that I’m not more tired after all that bolting
and jolting, and you know I felt that headache coming all the
time. . . only just kept it at bay. But really, now, I’m quite hungry; it’s
strange. I never could eat anything in Epsom. What is there?”
The waiter handed her the card. She looked up at him with a
smile. “Oh! no consommé! thank you. Yes, Filet de sole and Poularde
braisée—oh! and Grouse à la broche—of course—just in time,
James, to-day’s only the fifteenth. Cerises Beatrice—Friandises—oh!
delightful! the very thing.”
“Bannister knows what to give us,” he said, turning to her.
She settled back in her seat with a little purr of pleasure. “I hope
the girls had what they wanted. Little dears! I’m afraid they were
dreadfully tired.”
He watched her curiously. There had been so many evenings like
this—evenings when those around him would have counted him a
lucky fellow; and yet he knew that he might have been a brick wall
and she would have talked in the same way. He judged her by her
eyes—eyes that looked through him, past him, quite coldly, with no
expression and no emotion. She simply did not realise that he was
there, and he suddenly felt cold and miserable and very lonely. Oh! if
only these people round him knew, if they could only see as he saw.
But perhaps they were, many of them, in the same position. He
watched them curiously. Men and women laughing and chatting with
that intimate note that seemed to mean so much and might, as he
knew well, mean so little. Everybody seemed very happy; perhaps
they were. Oh! he was an old, middle-aged marplot, a kill-joy, a
skeleton at the feast.
“Isn’t it jolly, dear?” he said, laughing across the table; “this
grouse is perfection.”
“Tell me,” she said, with that little wave of her wrist towards him
that he knew so well—“tell me where the Gales are. I don’t suppose
you know, though, but we might guess.”
 “I do know,” he answered, laughing; “young Gale came and
spoke to me just before I came up to dress. He seemed a nice
young fellow. He came up and said something about the rooms—he
had heard you speaking to Bannister. They came in just now; a fine-
looking elderly man, a lady with beautiful white hair, a pretty girl in
pink.”
“Oh! of course! I noticed them! Oh, yes! one could tell they were
somebody.” She glanced round the room. “Yes, there they are, by
the wall at the back; quite a lovely girl!” She looked at them
curiously. “Oh, you spoke to young Gale, did you? He looks quite a
nice boy. I hope they have liked the rooms, and, after all, ours aren’t
bad, are they? Really, I’m not sure that in some ways——”
She rattled on, praising the grouse, the bread sauce, the
vegetables. She speculated on people and made little jokes about
them, and he threw the ball back again, gaily, merrily, light-
heartedly.
“You know I don’t think Louie really cares about him. I often
hoped for her sake, poor girl, that she did, because there’s no
denying that she’s getting on; and it isn’t as if she’s got looks or
money, and it’s a wonder that he’s stuck to her as he has. I’ve
always said that Louie was a marrying woman and she’d make him a
good wife, there’s no doubt of that.”
Her little eyes were glittering like diamonds and her cheeks were
hot. People were arriving at the fruit stage, and conversation, which
had murmured over the soup and hummed over the meat, seemed
to Maradick to shriek over the grapes and pears. How absurd it all
was, and what was the matter with him? His head was aching, and
the silver and flowers danced before his eyes. The great lines of the
silver birch were purple over the lawn and the full moon was level
with the windows. It must have been the journey, and he had
certainly worked very hard these last months in town; but he had
never known his nerves like they were to-night, indeed he had often
wondered whether he had any nerves at all. Now they were all on
the jump; just as though, you know, you were on one of those
roundabouts, the horses jumping up and down and round, and the
lights and the other people jumping too. There was a ridiculous man
at a table close to them with a bald head, and the electric light
caught it and turned it into a fiery ball. Such a bald head! It shone
like the sun, and he couldn’t take his eyes away from it: and still his
wife went on talking, talking, talking—that same little laugh, that
gesticulating with the fingers, that glance round to see whether
people had noticed. In some of those first years he had tried to
make her angry, had contradicted and laughed derisively, but it had
had no effect. She simply hadn’t considered him. But she must
consider him! It was absurd; they were husband and wife. He had
said—what had he said that first day in church? He couldn’t
remember, but he knew that she ought to consider him, that she
oughtn’t to look past him like that just as though he wasn’t there.
He pulled himself together with a great effort and finished the
champagne in his glass: the waiter filled it again; then he leant back
in his chair and began to peel an apple, but his fingers were
trembling.
“That woman over there,” said Mrs. Maradick, addressing a table
to her right and then glancing quickly to her left, “is awfully like Mrs.
Newton Bassett—the same sort of hair, and she’s got the eyes.
Captain Bassett’s coming home in the autumn, I believe, which will
be rather a blow for Muriel Bassett if all they say is true. He’s been
out in Central Africa or somewhere, hasn’t he? Years older than her,
they say, and as ugly as—Oh, well! people do talk, but young Forrest
has been in there an awful lot lately, and he’s as nice a young fellow
as you’d want to meet.”
He couldn’t stand it much longer, so he put the apple down on
his plate and finished the champagne.
“If I went out to Central Africa,” he said slowly, “I wonder
whether——”
“These pears are delicious,” she answered, still looking at the
table to her left.
“If I went out to Central Africa——” he said again.
She leant forward and played with the silver in front of her.
“Look here, I want you to listen.” He leant forward towards her
so that he might escape the man with the bald head. “If I went out
to Central Africa, you—well, you wouldn’t much mind, would you?
Things would be very much the same. It’s rather comforting to think
that you wouldn’t very much mind.”
Maradick’s hands were shaking, but he spoke quite calmly, and
he did not raise his voice because he did not want the man with the
bald head to hear.
“You wouldn’t mind, would you? Why don’t you say?” Then
suddenly something seemed to turn in his brain, like a little wheel,
and it hurt. “It’s been going on like this for years, and how long do
you think I’m going to stand it? You don’t care at all. I’m just like a
chair, a table, anything. I say it’s got to change—I’ll turn you out—
won’t have anything more to do with you—you’re not a wife at all—a
man expects——” He did not know what he was saying, and he did
not really very much care. He could not be eloquent or dramatic
about it like people were in books, because he wasn’t much of a
talker, and there was that little wheel in his head, and all these
people talking. It had all happened in the very briefest of moments.
He hardly realised at the time at all, but afterwards the impression
that he had of it was of his fingers grating on the table-cloth; they
dug into the wood of the table.
For only a moment his fingers seemed, of their own accord, to
rise from the table and stretch out towards her throat. Sheer animal
passion held him, passion born of her placidity and indifference.
Then suddenly he caught her eyes; she was looking at him, staring
at him, her face was very white, and he had never seen anyone look
so frightened. And then all his rage left him and he sat back in his
chair again, shaking from head to foot. There were all those years
between them and he had never said a word until now! Then he felt
horribly ashamed of himself; he had been intolerably rude, to a lady.
He wasn’t quite certain of what he had said.
“I beg your pardon,” he said slowly, “I have been very rude. I
didn’t quite know what I was saying.”
For a moment they were silent. The chatter went on, and the
waiter was standing a little way away; he had not heard anything.
“I am rather tired,” said Mrs. Maradick; “I think I’ll go up, if you
don’t mind.”
 He rose and offered her his arm, and they went out together. She
did not look at him, and neither of them spoke.
Tony Gale was absurdly excited that evening, and even his
father’s presence scarcely restrained him. Sir Richard never said very
much, but he generally looked a great deal; to-night he enjoyed his
dinner. Lady Gale watched Tony a little anxiously. She had always
been the wisest of mothers in that she had never spoken before her
time; the whole duty of parents lies in the inviting of their children’s
confidence by never asking for it, and she had never asked. Then
she had met Miss Alice Du Cane and had liked her, and it had struck
her that here was the very girl for Tony. Tony liked her and she liked
Tony. In every way it seemed a thing to be desired, and this
invitation to accompany them to Cornwall was a natural move in the
right direction. They were both, of course, very young; but then
people did begin very young nowadays, and Tony had been “down”
from Oxford a year and ought to know what he was about. Alice was
a charming girl, and the possessor of much sound common-sense;
indeed, there was just the question whether she hadn’t got a little
too much. The Du Canes were excellently connected; on the
mother’s side there were the Forestiers of Portland Hall down in
Devon, and the Craddocks of Newton Chase—oh! that was all right.
And then Tony had a fortune of his own, so that he was altogether
independent, and one couldn’t be quite sure of what he would do, so
that it was a satisfaction to think that he really cared for somebody
that so excellently did! It promised to be a satisfactory affair all
round, and even Sir Richard, a past master in the art of finding
intricate objections to desirable plans, had nothing to say. Of course,
it was a matter that needed looking at from every point of view. Of
the Du Canes, there were not many. Colonel Du Cane had died some
years before, and Lady Du Cane, a melancholy, faded lady who
passed her time in such wildly exciting health-resorts as Baden-
Baden and Marienbad, had left her daughter to the care of her aunt,
Miss Perryn. There were other Du Canes, a brother at Eton and a
sister in France, but they were too young to matter; and then there
was lots of money, so really Alice had nothing to complain of.
 But Lady Gale was still old-fashioned enough to mind a little
about mutual affection. Did they really care for each other? Of
course it was so difficult to tell about Tony because he cared about
everyone, and was perpetually enthusiastic about the most absurdly
ordinary people. His geese were all swans, there was no question;
but then, as he always retorted, that was better than thinking that
your swans, when you did meet them, were all geese. Still, it did
make it difficult to tell. When, for instance, he rated a man he had
met in the hall of the hotel for the first time, and for one minute
precisely, on exactly the same scale as he rated friends of a lifetime,
what were you to think? Then Alice, too, was difficult.
She was completely self-possessed and never at a loss, and Lady
Gale liked people who made mistakes. You always knew exactly
what Alice would say or think about any subject under discussion.
She had the absolutely sane and level-headed point of view that is
so annoying to persons of impulsive judgment. Not that Lady Gale
was impulsive; but she was wise enough to know that some of the
best people were, and she distrusted old heads on young shoulders.
Miss Du Cane had read enough to comment sensibly and with
authority on the literature of the day. She let you express your
opinion and then agreed or differed with the hinting of standards
long ago formed and unflinchingly sustained, and some laughing
assertion of her own ignorance that left you convinced of her
wisdom. She always asserted that she was shallow, and shallowness
was therefore the last fault of which she was ever accused.
She cared for Tony, there was no doubt of that; but then, so did
everybody. Lady Gale’s only doubt was lest she was a little too
matter-of-fact about it all; but, after all, girls were very different
nowadays, and the display of any emotion was the unpardonable
sin.
“Grouse! Hurray!” Tony displayed the menu. “The first of the
year. I’m jolly glad I didn’t go up with Menzies to Scotland; it’s much
better here, and I’m off shooting this year——”
“That’s only because you always like the place you’re in better
than any other possible place, Tony,” said Alice. “And I wish I had
the virtue. Oh! those dreary months with mother at Baden! They’re
hanging over me still.”
“Well, I expect they gave your mother a great deal of pleasure,
my dear,” said Lady Gale, “and that after all is something, even
nowadays.”
“No, they didn’t, that’s the worst of it. She didn’t want me a bit.
There was old Lady Pomfret and Mrs. Rainer, and oh! lots of others;
bridge, morning, noon, and night, and I used to wander about and
mope.”
“You ought to have been writing letters to Tony and me all the
time,” said Rupert, laughing. “You’ll never get such a chance again.”
“Well, I did, didn’t I, Tony? Speak up for me, there’s a brick!”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Tony. “They were jolly short, and there
didn’t seem to be much moping about it.”
“That was to cheer you up. You didn’t want me to make you
think that I was depressed, did you?”
Sir Richard had finished his grouse and could turn his attention to
other things. He complained of the brilliancy of the lights, and some
of them were turned out.
“Where’s your man, Tony?” said Rupert. “Let’s see him.”
“Over there by the window—a man and a woman at a table by
themselves—a big man, clean shaven. There, you can see him now,
behind that long waiter—a pretty woman in white, laughing.”
“Oh, well! He’s better than some,” Rupert grudgingly admitted.
“Not so bad—strong, muscular, silent hero type—it’s a pretty
woman.” He fastened his eye-glass, an attention that he always paid
to anyone who really deserved it.
“Yes, I like him,” said Lady Gale; “what did you say his name
was?”
“I didn’t quite catch it; Marabin, or Mara—no, I don’t know—Mara
—something. But I say, what are we going to do to-night? We must
do something. I was never so excited in my life, and I don’t a bit
know why.”
“Oh, that will pass,” said Rupert; “we know your moods, Tony.
You must take him out into the garden, Alice, and quiet him down.
Oh! look, they’re going, those Marabins or whatever their names are.
She carries herself well, that woman.”
Dinner always lasted a long time, because Sir Richard enjoyed his
food and had got a theory about biting each mouthful to which he
entirely attributed his healthy old age; it entailed lengthy meals.
They were almost the last people in the room when at length
they rose to go, and it was growing late.
“It’s so sensible of them not to pull blinds down,” said Tony, “the
moon helps digestion.” Sir Richard, as was his custom, went slowly
and majestically up to his room, the others into the garden.
“Take Alice to see the view from the terraces, Rupert,” said Lady
Gale. “Tony and I will walk about here a little.”
She put her arm through her son’s, and they passed up and
down the walks in front of the hotel. The vision of the town in the
distance was black, the gardens were cold and white under the
moon.
“Oh! it is beautiful.” Lady Gale drew a deep breath. “And when
I’m in a place like this, and it’s England, I’m perpetually wondering
why so many people hurry away abroad somewhere as soon as
they’ve a minute to spare. Why, there’s nothing as lovely as this
anywhere!”
Tony laughed. “There’s magic in it,” he said. “I hadn’t set foot in
the place for quarter of an hour before I knew that it was quite
different from all the other places I’d ever been in. I wasn’t joking
just now at dinner. I meant it quite seriously. I feel as if I were just
in for some enormous adventure—as if something important were
most certainly going to happen.”
“Something important’s always happening, especially at your time
of life; which reminds me, Tony dear, that I want to talk to you
seriously.”
He looked up in her face. “What’s up, mother?”
“Nothing’s up, and perhaps you will think me a silly interfering
old woman; but you know mothers are queer things, Tony, and you
can’t say that I’ve bothered you very much in days past.”
“No.” He suddenly put his arm round her neck, pulled her head
towards his and kissed her. “It’s all right. There’s nobody here to
see, and it wouldn’t matter a bit if there were. No, you’re the very
sweetest and best mother that mortal man ever had, and you’re
cursed with an ungrateful, undutiful scapegrace of a son, more’s the
pity.”
“Ah,” she said, shaking her head, “that’s just what I mean. Your
mother is a beautiful and delightful joke like everything and
everybody else. It’s time, Tony, that you were developing. You’re
twenty-four, and you seem to me to be exactly where you were at
eighteen. Now I don’t want to hurry or worry you, but the perpetual
joke won’t do any longer. It isn’t that I myself want you to be
anything different, because I don’t. I only want you to be happy; but
life’s hard, and I don’t think you can meet it by playing with it.”
He said nothing, but he gave her arm a little squeeze.
“Then you know,” she went on, “you have absolutely no sense of
proportion. Everybody and everything are on exactly the same scale.
You don’t seem to me to have any standard by which you estimate
things. Everybody is nice and delightful. I don’t believe you ever
disliked anybody, and it has always been a wonder to all of us that
you haven’t lost more from suffering so many fools gladly. I always
used to think that as soon as you fell in love with somebody—really
and properly fell in love with some nice girl—that that seriousness
would come, and so I didn’t mind. I don’t want to hurry you in that
direction, dear, but I would like to see you settled. Really, Tony, you
know, you haven’t changed at all, you’re exactly the same; so much
the same that I’ve wondered a little once or twice whether you really
care for anybody.”
“Poor old mother, and my flightiness has worried you, has it? I
am most awfully sorry. But God made the fools as well as the wits,
and He didn’t ask the fools which lot they wanted to belong to.”
“No, but, Tony, you aren’t a fool, that’s just it. You’ve got the
brain of the family somewhere, only you seem to be ashamed of it
and afraid that people should know you’d got it, and your mother
would rather they did know. And then, dear, there is such a thing as
family pride. It isn’t snobbery, although it looks like it; it only means,
don’t be too indiscriminate. Don’t have just anybody for a friend. It
doesn’t matter about their birth, but it does matter about their
opinions and surroundings. Some of them have been—well, scarcely
clean, dear. I’m sure that Mr. Templar wasn’t a nice man, although I
dare say he was very clever; and that man to-night, for instance: I
dare say he’s an excellent man in every way, but you owe it to the
family to find out just a little about him first; you can’t tell just in a
minute——”
He stopped her for a minute and looked up at her quite seriously.
“I’ll be difficult to change, mother, I’m afraid. How you and father
ever produced such a vagabond I don’t know, but vagabond I am,
and vagabond I’ll remain in spite of Oxford and the Bond Street
tailor. But never you grieve, mother dear, I’ll promise to tell you
everything—don’t you worry.”
“Yes. But what about settling?”
“Oh, settling!” he answered gravely. “Vagabonds oughtn’t to
marry at all.”
“But you’re happy about everything? You’re satisfied with things
as they are?”
“Of course!” he cried. “Just think what kind of a beast I’d be if I
wasn’t. Of course, it’s splendid. And now, mother, the jaw’s over and
I’m the very best of sons, and it’s a glorious night, and we’ll be as
happy as the day is long.”
They knelt on the seat at the south end and looked down into
the crooked streets; the moon had found its way there now, and
they could almost read the names on the shops.
Suddenly Lady Gale put her hand against his cheek. “Tony, dear,
I care for you more than anything in the world. You know it. And,
Tony, always do what you feel is the straight thing and I shall know
it is right for you, and I shall trust you; but, Tony, don’t marry
anybody unless you are quite certain that it is the only person. Don’t
let anything else influence you. Marriage with the wrong person is
——” Her voice shook for a moment. “Promise me, Tony.”
“I promise,” he answered solemnly, and she took his arm and
they walked back down the path.
Rupert and Alice were waiting for them and they all went in
together. Lady Gale and Rupert said good night. Rupert was always
tired very early in the evening unless there was bridge or a dance,
but Alice and Tony sat in the sitting-room by the open window
watching the moonlight on the sea and listening to the muffled
thunder of the waves. Far out into the darkness flashed the Porth
Allen Lighthouse.
For a little while they were silent, then Tony suddenly said:
“I say, am I awfully young?”
She looked up. “Young?”
“Yes. The mater has been talking to me to-night. She says that it
is time that I grew up, that I haven’t grown a bit since I was
eighteen, and that it must be very annoying for everybody. Have you
felt it, too?”
“Well, of course I know what she means. It’s absurd, but I
always feel years older than you, although by age I’m younger. But
oh! it’s difficult to explain; one always wants to rag with you. I’m
always at my silliest when you’re there, and I hate being at my
silliest.”
“I know you do, that’s your worst fault. But really, this is rather
dreadful. I must proceed to grow up. But tell me honestly, am I a
fool?”
“No, of course you’re not, you’re awfully clever. But that’s what
we all think about you—you could do so many things and you’re not
doing anything.”
He sat on the window-sill, swinging his legs.
“There was once,” he began, “the King of Fools, and he had a
most splendid and widely attended Court; and one day the Wisest
Man in Christendom came to see and be seen, and he talked all the
wisest things that he had ever learnt, and the fools listened with all
their ears and thought that they had never heard such folly, and
after a time they shouted derisively, not knowing that he was the
Wisest Man, ‘Why, he is the biggest fool of them all!’”
“The moral being?”
“Behold, the Wisest Man!” cried Tony, pointing dramatically at his
breast. “There, my dear Alice, you have the matter in a nutshell.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” said Alice, laughing, “only it is
scarcely convincing. Seriously, Tony, Lady Gale is right. Don’t be one
of the rotters like young Seins or Rocky Culler or Dick Staines, who
spend their whole day in walking Bond Street and letting their heads
wag. Not, of course, that you’d ever be that sort, but it would be
rather decent if you did something.”
“Well, I do,” he cried.
“What?” she said.
“I can shoot a gun, I can ride a horse, I can serve corkers from
the back line at tennis, and score thirty at moderate cricket; I can
read French, German, Italian. I can play bridge—well, fairly—I can
speak the truth, eat meringues all day with no evil consequences,
stick to a pal, and walk for ever and ever, Amen. Oh, but you make
me vain!”
She laughed. “None of those things are enough,” she said. “You
know quite well what I mean. You must take a profession; why not
Parliament, the Bar, writing?—you could write beautifully if you
wanted to. Oh, Tony!”
“I have one,” he said.
“Now! What?”
“The finest profession in the world—Odysseus, Jason, Cœur-de-
Lion, St. Francis of Assisi, Wilhelm Meister, Lavengro. By the beard of
Ahasuerus I am a wanderer!”
He struck an attitude and laughed, but there was a light in his
eyes and his cheeks were flushed.
Then he added:
“Oh! what rot! There’s nobody so boring as somebody on his
hobby. I’m sorry, Alice, but you led me on; it’s your own fault.”
“Do you know,” she said, “that is the first time, Tony, that I’ve
ever heard you speak seriously about anything, and really you don’t
do it half badly. But, at the same time, are you quite sure that you’re
right . . . now? What I mean is that things have changed so. I’ve
heard people talk like that before, but it has generally meant that
they were unemployed or something and ended up by asking for
sixpence. It seems to me that there’s such a lot to be done now, and
such a little time to do it in, that we haven’t time to go round looking
for adventure; it isn’t quite right that we should if we’re able-bodied
and can work.”
 “Why, how serious we are all of a sudden,” he cried. “One would
think you ran a girls club.”
“I do go down to Southwark a lot,” she answered. “And we’re
badly in need of subscriptions. I’d meant to ask you before.”
“Who’s the unemployed now?” he said, laughing. “I thought it
would end in that.”
“Well, I must go to bed,” she said, getting up from the window-
sill. “It’s late and cold, and I’m sure we’ve had a most inspiring talk
on both sides. Good night, old boy.”
“Ta-ta,” said Tony.
But after she had gone he sat by the window, thinking. Was it
true that he was a bit of a loafer? Had he really been taking things
too easily? Until these last two days he had never considered himself
or his position at all. He had always been radiantly happy; self-
questioning had been morbid and unnecessary. It was all very well
for pessimists and people who wrote to the Times, but, with Pope,
he hummed, “Whatever is, is best,” and thought no more about it.
But this place seemed to have changed all that. What was there
about the place, he wondered? He had felt curiously excited from
the first moment of his coming there, but he could give no reason
for it. It was a sleepy little place, pretty and charming, of course, but
that was all. But he had known no rest or peace; something must be
going to happen. And then, too, there was Alice. He knew perfectly
well why she had been asked to join them, and he knew that she
knew. Before they had come down he had liked the idea. She was
one of the best and true as steel. He had almost decided, after all, it
was time that they settled down. And then, on coming here,
everything had been different. Alice, his father, his mother, Rupert
had changed; something was wrong. He did not, could not worry it
out, only it was terribly hot, it was a beautiful night outside, and he
wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours.
He passed quietly down the stairs and out into the garden. He
walked down to the south end. It was most wonderful—the moon,
the stars, the whirling light at sea, and, quite plainly, the noise of the
fair.
 He leant over the wall and looked down. He was suddenly
conscious that some one else was there; a big man, in evening
dress, smoking a cigar. Something about him, the enormous arms or
the close-cropped hair, was familiar.
“Good evening,” said Tony.
It was Maradick. He looked up, and Tony at once wished that he
hadn’t said anything. It was the face of a man who had been deep in
his own thoughts and had been brought back with a shock, but he
smiled.
“Good evening. It’s wonderfully beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I’m Gale,” said Tony apologetically, “I’m sorry if I interrupted
you.”
“Oh no,” Maradick answered. “One can think at any time, and I
wanted company. I suppose the rest of the hotel is in bed—rather a
crime on a night like this.” Then he suddenly held up a warning
finger. “Listen!” he said.
Quite distinctly, and high above the noise of the fair, came the
voice of a man singing in the streets below. He sang two verses, and
then it died away.
“It was a tune I heard last year,” Maradick said apologetically. “I
liked it and had connected it with this place. I——” Then suddenly
they heard it again.
They were both silent and listened together.
 CHAPTER IV
IN WHICH THE AFORESAID ADMONITUS LEADS THE AFORESAID
MEMBERS OF SOCIETY A DANCE

The two men stood there silently for some minutes; the voice
died away and the noise of the fair was softer and less discordant;
past them fluttered two white moths, the whirr of their wings, the
heavy, clumsy blundering against Tony’s coat, and then again the
silence.
“I heard it last year, that song,” Maradick repeated; he puffed at
his cigar, and it gleamed for a moment as some great red star flung
into the sky a rival to the myriads above and around it. “It’s funny
how things like that stick in your brain—they are more important in a
way than the bigger things.”
“Perhaps they are the bigger things,” said Tony.
“Perhaps,” said Maradick.
He fell into silence again. He did not really want to talk, and he
wondered why this young fellow was so persistent. He was never a
talking man at any time, and to-night at any rate he would prefer to
be left alone. But after all, the young fellow couldn’t know that, and
he had offered to go. He could not think connectedly about
anything; he could only remember that he had been rude to his wife
at dinner. No gentleman would have said the things that he had said.
He did not remember what he had said, but it had been very rude; it
was as though he had struck his wife in the face.
“I say,” he said, “it’s time chaps of your age were in bed. Don’t
believe in staying up late.” He spoke gruffly, and looked over the wall
on to the whirling lights of the merry-go-round in the market-place.
“You said, you know,” said Tony, “that you wanted company; but,
of course——” He moved from the wall.
“Oh! stay if you like. Young chaps never will go to bed. If they
only knew what they were laying in store for themselves they’d be a
bit more careful. When you get to be an old buffer as I am——”
 “Old!” Tony laughed. “Why, you’re not old.”
“Aren’t I? Turned forty, anyhow.”
“Why, you’re one of the strongest-looking men I’ve ever seen.”
Tony’s voice was a note of intense admiration.
Maradick laughed grimly. “It isn’t your physical strength that
counts, it’s the point of view—the way you look at things and the
way people look at you.”
The desire to talk grew with him; he didn’t want to think, he
couldn’t sleep—why not talk?
“But forty anyhow,” said Tony, “isn’t old. Nobody thinks you’re old
at forty.”
“Oh, don’t they? Wait till you are, you’ll know.”
“Well, Balzac——”
“Oh, damn your books! what do they know about it? Everyone
takes things from books nowadays instead of getting it first hand.
People stick themselves indoors and read a novel or two and think
they know life—such rot!”
Tony laughed. “I say,” he said, “you don’t think like that always, I
know—it’s only just for an argument.”
Maradick suddenly twisted round and faced Tony. He put his
hand on his shoulder.
“I say, kid,” he said, “go to bed. It doesn’t do a chap of your age
any good to talk to a pessimistic old buffer like myself. I’ll only growl
and you won’t be the better for it. Go to bed!”
Tony looked up at him without moving.
“I think I’ll stay. I expect you’ve got the pip, and it always does a
chap good, if he’s got the pip, to talk to somebody.”
“Have you been here before?” asked Tony.
“Oh yes! last year. I shan’t come again.”
“Why not?”
“It unsettles you. It doesn’t do to be unsettled when you get to
my time of life.”
“How do you mean—unsettles?”
Maradick considered. How exactly did he mean—unsettles? There
was no doubt that it did, though.
 “Oh, I’m not much good at explaining, but when you’ve lived a
certain time you’ve got into a sort of groove—bound to, I suppose.
I’ve got my work, just like another man. Every morning breakfast the
same time, same rush to the station, same train, same morning
paper, same office, same office-boy, same people; back in the
evening, same people again, same little dinner, same little nap—oh,
it’s like anyone else. One gets into the way of thinking that that’s
life, bounded by the Epsom golf course and the office in town. All
the rest one has put aside, and after a time one thinks that it isn’t
there. And then a man comes down here and, I don’t know what it
is, the place or having nothing to do upsets you and things are all
different.” Then, after a moment, “I suppose that’s what a holiday’s
meant for.”
He had been trying to put his feelings into words, but he knew
that he had not said at all what he had really felt. It was not the
change of life, the lazy hours and the pleasant people; besides, as
far as that went, he might at any moment, if he pleased, change
things permanently. He had made enough, he need not go back to
the City at all; but he knew it was not that. It was something that he
had felt in the train, then in the sight of the town, some vague
discontent leading to that outbreak at dinner. He was not a reading
man or he might have considered the Admonitus Locorum. He had
never read of it nor had he knowledge of such a spirit; but it was, it
must be, the place.
“Yes,” said Tony, “of course I’ve never settled down to anything,
yet, you know; and so I can’t quite see as you do about the
monotony. My people have been very decent; I’ve been able to
wander about and do as I liked, and last year I was in Germany and
had a splendid time. Simply had a rucksack and walked. And I can’t
imagine settling down anywhere; and even if I had somewhere—
Epsom or anywhere—there would be the same looking for
adventure, looking out for things, you know.”
“Adventures in Epsom!”
“Why not? I expect it’s full of it.”
“Ah, that’s because you’re young! I was like that once, peering
round and calling five o’clock tea a romance. I’ve learnt better.”
 Tony turned round. “It’s so absurd of you, you know, to talk as if
you were eighty. You speak as if everything was over, and you’re
only beginning.”
Maradick laughed. “Well, that’s pretty good cheek from a fellow
half your age! Why, what do you know about life, I’d like to know?”
“Oh, not much. As a matter of fact, it’s rather funny your talking
like that, because my people have been talking to me to-night about
that very thing—settling down, I mean. They say that my roving has
lasted long enough, and that I shall soon be turning into a waster if
I don’t do something. Also that it’s about time that I began to grow
up. I don’t know,” he added apologetically, “why I’m telling you this,
it can’t interest you, but they want me to do just the thing that
you’ve been complaining about.”
“Oh no, I haven’t been complaining,” said Maradick hastily. “All
I’m saying is, if you do get settled down don’t go anywhere or do
anything that will unsettle you again. It’s so damned hard getting
back. But what’s the use of my giving you advice and talking, you
young chaps never listen!”
“They sound as if they were enjoying themselves down there,”
said Tony a little wistfully. The excitement was still in his blood and a
wild idea flew into his brain. Why not? But no, it was absurd, he had
only known the man quarter of an hour. The lights of the merry-go-
round tossed like a thing possessed; whirl and flash, then
motionless, and silence again. The murmured hum of voices came to
their ears. After all, why not?
“I say,” Tony touched Maradick’s arm, “why shouldn’t we stroll
down there, down to the town? It might be amusing. It would be a
splendid night for a walk, and it’s only twenty to eleven. We’d be
back by twelve.”
“Down there? Now!” Maradick laughed. But he had a strange
yearning for company. He couldn’t go back into the hotel, not yet,
and he would only lose himself in his own thoughts that led him
nowhere if he stayed here alone. A few days ago he would have
mocked at the idea of wandering down with a boy he didn’t know to
see a round-about and some drunken villagers; but things were
different, some new impulse was at work within him. Besides, he
rather liked the boy. It was a long while since anyone had claimed
his companionship like that; indeed a few days ago he would have
repelled anyone who attempted it with no uncertain hand.
Maradick considered it.
“Oh, I say, do!” said Tony, his hand still on Maradick’s arm, and
delighted to find that his proposal was being seriously considered.
“After all, it’s only a stroll, and we’ll come back as soon as you wish.
We can get coats from the hotel; it might be rather amusing, you
know.”
He was feeling better already. It was, of course, absurd that he
should go out on a mad game like that at such an hour, but—why
not be absurd? He hadn’t done anything ridiculous for fifteen years,
nothing at all, so it was high time he began.
“It will be a rag!” said Tony.
They went in to get their coats. Two dark conspirators, they
plunged down the little crooked path that was the quickest way to
the town. On every side of them pressed the smell of the flowers,
stronger and sweeter than in the daylight, and their very vagueness
of outline gave them mystery and charm. The high peaks of the
trees, outlined against the sky, assumed strange and eerie shapes—
the masts of a ship, the high pinnacle of some cathedral, scythes
and swords cutting the air; and above them that wonderful night sky
of the summer, something that had in its light of the palest saffron
promise of an early dawn, a wonderful suggestion of myriad colours
seen dimly through the curtain of dark blue.

“By night we lingered on the lawn,

For underfoot the herb was dry;
And genial warmth, and o’er the sky
The silvery haze of summer drawn:

“And bats went round in fragrant skies,

And wheeled or lit the filmy shapes
That haunt the dusk, with ermine capes
And woolly breasts and beaded eyes:”

quoted Tony. “Tennyson, and jolly good at that.”

 “Don’t know it,” said Maradick rather gruffly. “Bad for your
business. Besides, what do those chaps know about life? Shut
themselves up in their rooms and made rhymes over the fire. What
could they know?”
“Oh, some of them,” said Tony, “knew a good bit. But I’m sorry I
quoted. It’s a shocking habit, and generally indulged in to show
superiority to your friends. But the sky is just like that to-night.
Drawn lightly across as though it hid all sorts of things on the other
side.”
Maradick made no answer, and they walked on in silence. They
reached the end of the hotel garden, and passed through the little
white gate into a narrow path that skirted the town wall and brought
you abruptly out into the market-place by the church. It passed
along a high bank that towered over the river Ess on its way to the
sea. It was rather a proud little river as little rivers go, babbling and
chattering in its early, higher reaches, with the young gaiety suited
to country vicarages and the paper ships of village children; and
then, solemn and tranquil, and even, perhaps, a little important, as it
neared the town and gave shelter to brown-sailed herring-boats, and
then, finally, agitated, excited, tumultuous as it tumbled into its
guardian, the sea.
To-night it passed contentedly under the walls of the town,
singing a very sleepy little song on its way, and playing games with
the moonlight and the stars. Here the noise of the fair was hidden
and everything was very still and peaceful. The footsteps of the two
men were loud and clear. The night air had straightened Maradick’s
brain and he was more at peace with the world, but there was,
nevertheless, a certain feeling of uneasiness, natural and indeed
inevitable in a man who, after an ordered and regulated existence of
many years, does something that is unusual and a little ridiculous.
He had arrived, as was, indeed, the case with so many persons of
middle age, at that deliberate exclusion of three sides of life in order
to grasp fully the fourth side. By persistent practice he had taught
himself to believe that the other three sides did not exist. He told
himself that he was not adaptable, that he had made his bed and
must lie on it, that the moon was for dreamers; and now suddenly,
in the space of a day, the blind was drawn from the window before
which he had sat for fifteen years, and behold! there were the stars!
Then Tony began again. It had been said of him that his worst
fault was his readiness to respond, that he did not know what it was
to be on his guard, and he treated Maradick now with a confidence
and frankness that was curiously intimate considering the length of
their acquaintance. At length he spoke of Alice Du Cane. “I know my
people want it, and she’s an awful good sort, really sporting, and the
kind of girl you’d trust to the end of your days. A girl you’d be
absolutely safe with.”
“Do you care about her?” said Maradick.
“Of course. We’ve known each other for years. We’re not very
sentimental about it, but then for my part I distrust all that
profoundly. It isn’t what you want nowadays; good solid esteem is
the only thing to build on.”
Tony spoke with an air of deep experience. Maradick, with the
thought of his own failure in his mind, wondered whether, after all,
that were not the right way of looking at it. It had not been his way,
fifteen years before; he had been the true impetuous lover, and now
he reaped his harvest. Oh! these considering and careful young men
and girls of the new generation were learning their lesson, and yet,
in spite of it all, marriage turned out as many failures as ever. But
this remark of the boy’s had been little in agreement with the rest of
him; he had been romantic, impetuous, and very, very young, and
this serious and rather cynical doctrine of “good solid esteem” was
out of keeping with the rest of him.
“I wonder if you mean that,” he said, looking sharply at Tony.
“Of course. I’ve thought a great deal about marriage, in our set
especially. One sees fellows marrying every day, either because
they’re told to, or because they’re told not to, and both ways are
bad. Of course I’ve fancied I was in love once or twice, but it’s
always passed off. Supposing I’d married one of those girls, what
would have come of it? Disaster, naturally. So now I’m wiser.”
“Don’t you be too sure. It’s that wisdom that’s so dangerous. The
Fates, or whatever they are, always choose the cocksure moment for
upsetting the certainty. I shouldn’t wonder if you change your views
before you’re much older. You’re not the sort of chap, if you’ll pardon
my saying so, to do those things so philosophically. And then, there’s
something in the air of this place——”
Tony didn’t reply. He was wondering whether, after all, he was
quite so cocksure. He had been telling himself for the last month
that it was best, from every point of view, that he should marry Miss
Du Cane; his people, his future, his certainty of the safety of it, all
urged him, and yet—and yet . . . His mother’s words came back to
him. “Tony, don’t marry anybody unless you are quite certain that it
is the only person. Don’t let anything else influence you. Marriage
with the wrong person is . . .”
And then, in a moment, the fair was upon them. It had just
struck eleven and the excitement seemed at its height. The market-
place was very French in its neatness, and a certain gathering
together of all the life, spiritual and corporate, of the town; the
church, Norman, and of some historical interest, filled the right side
of the square. Close at its side, and squeezed between its grey walls
and the solemn dignity of the Town Hall, was a tall rectangular tower
crowded with little slits of windows and curious iron bars that jutted
out into the air like pointing fingers.
There was something rather pathetically dignified about it; it
protested against its modern neglect and desertion. You felt that it
had, in an earlier day, known brave times. Now the ground floor was
used by a fruiterer; apples and plums, cherries and pears were
bought and sold, and the Count’s Tower was Harding’s shop.
There were several other houses in the Square that told the
same tale, houses with fantastic bow-windows and little pepper-pot
doors, tiny balconies and quaintly carved figures that stared at you
from hidden corners; houses that were once the height of fashion
now hid themselves timidly from the real magnificence of the Town
Hall. Their day was over, and perhaps their very life was threatened.
The Town Hall, with its dinners and its balls and its speeches, need
fear no rivalry.
But to-night the Town Hall was pushed aside and counted for
nothing at all. It was the one occasion of the year on which it was of
no importance, and the old, despised tower was far more in keeping
with the hour and the scene.
Down the centre of the Square were rows of booths lighted by
gas-jets that flamed and flared in the night-air with the hiss of many
serpents. These filled the middle line of the market. To the right was
the round-about; its circle of lights wheeling madly round and round
gave it the vitality of a living thing—some huge Leviathan on wheels
bawling discordantly the latest triumph of the Halls, and then,
excited by its voice, whirling ever swifter and swifter as though it
would hurl itself into the air and go rioting gaily through the market,
and then suddenly dropping, dead, exhausted, melancholy at the
ceasing of its song:—

Put me amongst the—girls!

Those wi-th the curly curls!

and then a sudden vision of dark figures leaping up and down into
the light and out of it again, the wild waving of an arm, and the red,
green and yellow of the horses as they swirled up and down and
round to the tune.
In another corner, standing on a plank laid upon two barrels, his
arms raised fantastically above his head, was a preacher. Around him
was gathered a small circle of persons with books, and faintly,
through the noise of the merry-go-round and the cries of those that
bought and sold, came the shrill, wavering scream of a hymn:—

So like little candles

We shall shine,
You in your small corner
And I in mine.

Down the central alley passed crowds of men and women, sailors
and their sweethearts, for the most part; and strangely foreign
looking a great many of them were—brown and swarthy, with black
curling hair and dark, flashing eyes.
There were many country people wearing their Sunday clothes
with an uneasiness that had also something of admitted virtue and
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