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Sir Rodwell Blachington gave his nod. The crowd interjected, half-sighing. We ought to be proud of such a man! Perhaps we are a trifle exaggerating, says its heart. But that we are wholly grateful to him, is a distinct conclusion. And he may be one of the great men of his time: he has a quite individual style of dress. Lady Rodwell Blachington observed to Colney Durance: 'Mr.
Legends of combats are preserved fondly in schools; they have stories of such at Rodwell Regis, performed in the old Doctor's time, forty years ago.
Last night, however, I was out on duty I haven't had time to go home and change my clothes yet in a pretty bad part, shadowing one of the most dangerous swell mobsmen in Europe a man you may have heard of, sir. He is commonly known as Dagger Rodwell." I hastily disclaimed any acquaintance with the person in question. "Tell me, though," I begged, "what this has to do with Mr. Bundercombe?"
"He shall have it, sir, I swear to you; he shall be made to repent this as long as he lives. If you will have the goodness to deliver him over to my hands, I will carry him back at once to Market Rodwell, and to-morrow, sir, to-morrow, I will endeavour to awaken his conscience in a way he will remember!"
Sir Rodwell Blachington would have preferred Radnor's not leading or playing either. Colonel Corfe and Mr. Caddis declined to consider such conduct English, in a man of station . . . notwithstanding Royal Highnesses, who are at least partly English: partly, we say, under our breath, remembering our old ideal of an English gentleman, in opposition to German tastes.
Grimstone's approbation, and he almost decided on declaring himself in the station fly. And now at last the train was grinding along discordantly with the brakes on, and, after a little preliminary jolting and banging over the points, drew up at a long lighted platform, where melancholy porters paced up and down, croaking "Market Rodwell!" like so many Solomon Eagles predicting woe.
"He'll be my father-in-law in a couple of months." "Then if you want him to attend the ceremony, sir," Mr. Cullen advised earnestly, "you'll get him out of London. He's restless. You may have noticed that yourself. He's spoiling for an adventure, and Dagger Rodwell is just the man to make use of him and then leave him high and dry the booby for us to save our bacon with.
Whatever it might cost him to overcome his fear of the Doctor, he would force himself to act and talk ostentatiously, as much like his own ordinary self as possible, during the journey down to Market Rodwell, so as to prepare the Doctor's mind for the disclosures he meant to make at the earliest opportunity.
For an instant he felt almost inclined to turn away and give the whole thing up in sick despair even to return to Market Rodwell and brave the Doctor's anger; for how could he hope to explain matters to his family and servants, or get the Garudâ Stone safely into his hands again before all these guests, in the whirl and tumult of an evening party?
Having thus spoken of some of the eminent men of my early days, I would like to mention a little incident that occurred before I had fairly settled down to practise, or formed any serious intention as to the course I should pursue that is to say, whether I should remain a sessions man like Woollet, or become a master of Saxon like old Peter Ryland, a sportsman like Bob Grimston, or a cosmopolitan like Rodwell, so as to comprehend all that came in my way.
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