Page:Gibbs--The yellow dove.djvu/203

 Hammersley is a type of man who under the guise of inefficiency does all things well. He is a sportsman. He would do such a thing for the love of adventure, because the danger, the excitement, appealed to him—because it was the ‘sporting thing.’”

“A reason, Rizzio,” muttered von Stromberg, “but not the real reason.”

Rizzio started and a smile broke at the corners of his lips.

“Oh! You realize, then, that there is something else—something?” He paused.

“I realize nothing,” growled the General. “Realization, Rizzio, is the one banality of existence! Uncertainty is the only thing worth while. When one is certain of anything it ceases to be interesting. That is why Herr Hammersley, whom you call a fool in one breath and a genius in the next, excites my profound attention. Come, I think you will agree with me that he is worth it.”

“I do not like Hammersley, Excellenz.”

“Natürlich! But that need not prevent your interest in him, even though your interest is largely in his death.”

The phrase was significant, delivered significantly, and in spite of himself Rizzio felt the gaze of the General piercing his veneer.

“I could feel no happiness in such a misfortune,” he said gravely, “notwithstanding my dislike of him.”

A knock at the door interrupted further conversation and, at a command from the General, Hammersley entered.