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A panel is not beaten into shape by force but by recurrent blows, light and accurate, and by the same cumulative process, Van Diest and his colleagues sought to shape the will of Richard Frencham Altar to their intention. The fact that their effort had so far failed in no way discouraged the belief that eventually it would succeed.
"You will be if you keep going to that door." "I don't even know your name, but if you look at me like that, with laughter in your eyes if you play the fool at such a time as this how can I possibly keep my resolve." "What resolve?" "To go away and never come back." "Come here," said Richard Frencham Altar, "come here at once." "Oh, please," she pleaded.
Richard Frencham Altar lit a cigarette and buried his hands in his pockets and with the whole future before him to contemplate and with every vital problem that a man may be called upon to face, he said to himself, "Now I wonder who that johnny was who nodded to me at the Berkeley."
Richard Frencham Altar I am father shot himself Torrington paying me five thousand keep it up for three weeks but you've made the course too stiff. I can't stay the distance. I can't stay the distance." His knees gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor beating the boards and blubbering like a school-boy.
He had spent a couple of months looking for work, but the name Frencham Altar, coupled with his complete inability to point to a single marketable asset other than courage and a smiling disposition, conspired together to harden the hearts of employers. Old friends denied him interviews, business acquaintances turned him from their doors and the casual advertiser forbore replying to his enquiries.
"And I could hazard a guess where the locality is. Like me to try?" "If it amuses you any." The American's voice rose and filled the room, reverberant as thunder. "P'r'aps it isn't so far away after all." And out of the wreckage of his resources, Richard Frencham Altar brought up his big guns for a final effort at counter battery. "P'r'aps it isn't, p'r'aps it is," he cried.
Somewhere overhead a lark was singing and the air vibrated to the drone of summer insects. The day was blue, peaceful, sweet. A thin breeze rustled the foliage, and golden sun spots dappled the brown carpet of pine needles upon which she lay. A single cloud travelled in the sky and its shadow fell across the house and grounds in which Richard Frencham Altar was imprisoned.
Torrington intervened with the suggestion that Frencham Altar's cheque should be signed while they were waiting. Cassis obstructed the idea. He thought tomorrow would be quite soon enough. He scouted Mr. Torrington's statement that on the morrow they would have to see about Frencham Altar's release. He said that this was a matter dependant on Barraclough's return.
It is probable that Hilbert Torrington also read a meaning in the girl's eyes for he was very active in marshalling his forces for departure. "I think, gentlemen," he said, "we might meet tomorrow to discuss our obligation to Mr. Frencham Altar an obligation by no means covered by the small arrangement we made with him."
In that instant of gathering danger Richard Frencham Altar became captain of the situation. He literally flung Anthony into the car and refused to listen to Auriole's protests. "We're players of a game, aren't we?" he said, "and we're going to play it to a finish. I think, too, it 'ud do me good to have one clean smack at 'em before I'm through."
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