Page:BulldogDrummondSapper.djvu/239

 reserved for those who have from early childhood voted for a Channel tunnel.

"There he is," he whispered ecstatically, "our little Carl, busy recalling his past. It may be vulgar, Ted: doubtless it is. I don't care. Such trifles matter not in the supreme moments of one's life; and I can imagine of only one more supreme than this."

"What's that?" asked Ted, firmly piloting him down the stairs.

"The moment when he and Henry sit side by side and recall their pasts together," murmured Hugh solemnly. "Think of it, man—think of it! Each cursin' the other between spasms. My hat! What a wonderful, lovely dream to treasure through the weary years!" He gazed abstractedly at the waiter. "Roast beef—underdone," he remarked, "and take a plate of cold fat up to the silence room above. The third gentleman from the door would like to look at it."

But third gentleman from the door, even in the midst of his agony, was consoled by one reflection.

"Should it be necessary, letter awaits him." So had run the telegram, which he had scattered to the winds right under Drummond's nose. And it was necessary. The mutton-headed young sweep had managed to escape once again: though Petro had assured him that the wretched native had never yet failed. And he personally had seen the man clamber on to the top of the cupboard….

For a moment his furious rage overcame his sufferings…. Next time … next time … and then the seventh wave of several seventh wave