All-Story Weekly/Volume 98/Number 3/Fires Rekindled/Introductory note

N the spring of 1918 I succeeded (with some difficulty) in securing passage to London on a private errand of my own. Not that the war of the nations against Germany had not deeply and painfully stirred me: I had offered myself for service,but owing to some obscure affection of the nerves, not outwardly noticeable. I had been rejected. So far as I, personally, was concerned, I was resigned, for it was the spiritual aspects of the struggle that had chiefly engaged me, and I was never much of a fighter.

During more than a year past I had been collecting materials for a biography of a certain great-granduncle of mine—Captain Lionel Heathcote—who had been distinguished, a century before, as a soldier and diplomatist. But I had found the data covering one period of his career to be scant, or missing: yet this very period—about a twelvemonth—seemed to be of special importance, for, whereas, up till then, he had been singularly successful in his undertakings, and stood at the threshold of a brilliant diplomatic future, he then suddenly abandoned his prospects and sank into obscurity. None of the letters and other documents which I had assembled explained the mystery.

It now occurred to me that the Library of the British Museum might contain something bearing upon the subject. Captain Heathcote, at the date in question, was about thirty-five years of age: he had been sent to London by President Monroe to assist our Minister at the Court of St. James (Mr. Richard Rush) in unraveling a dispute between Great Britain and this country over the execution of an alleged British spy, Ambrister, during the Seminole War: the captain having been personally present at the execution, which had been ordered by General Andrew Jackson. His mission had been signally successful: not only did he place Mr. Rush under great obligations to him, but he won the personal liking of the British Premier, Lord Canning. He was a handsome, dashing young soldier, with a romantic and adventurous life behind him,and was now evincing intellectual endowments of a high order; the best society of London opened its doors to him; he was accredited with having averted the peril of another war between the mother country and our own; there was almost no distinction to which he might not aspire.

What could have induced a youth so fortunate, gifted and ambitious to put aside the cup that was held brimming to his lips?

It was in the hope of solving this enigma that I embarked on my journey to London—the first that I had undertaken beyond the boundaries of my native land. My only sister, Joan, had some years before married a British officer. Major Philip Dalrymple, was residing in London, and would guide my first footsteps there.

It may be proper to mention that I am now approaching forty years of age, have always been of a studious turn, and, after leaving the university, took a post-graduate course in mental science and religious philosophy; but this left my mind unsettled, and I took up history and biography, in the hope of arriving at a spiritual interpretation of events and of the actors in them. I published a few monographs, which were kindly received but not widely read. Finally, the figure of my problematic ancestor appealed to me as a promising theme, and I had become singularly interested in it.

The following narrative consists substantially of the diary, or journal, which I kept during my London sojourn. That sojourn resulted in unexpected and strange developments, concerning the significance of which I shall leave the reader to form his own conclusions.

The reader is now qualified to proceed.