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Updated: May 20, 2025
As he worked the switch, he looked across at the illuminated window of the room in which Barling stood, with bent head, earnestly engaged upon his polishing. "B-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack-B-a-r-l-i-n-g-ack-ack-ack" The light flickered up and down in long and short flashes. Still "Buzzer" Barling trilled away at the "Grand Reveille" nor raised his eyes from his work.
From the billiard-room, they proceeded to another part of the house, more retired, and there, at the suggestion of Barling, tried a game at cards for a small stake. Young Darlington was loser at first, but, after a time, regained his losses and made some advance on his fellow-player.
There his eye fell on an advertisement couched in the following terms: "If Gunner Martin Barling, 1820th Battery, R.F.C., will communicate with Messrs. Mills & Cheyne, solicitors 130 Bedford Row, W. C., he will hear of something to his advantage. Difficulties with the military can be arranged." Desmond read this advertisement over once and then, starting at the beginning, read it over again.
Harry was no longer the thoughtful affectionate, innocent-minded young man of former days. Mason and Barling had introduced him into gay company, and, fascinated with a new and more exciting kind of life, he was fast forming associations and acquiring habits of a dangerous character.
Fortunately the Frenchman's bowsprit broke right off, carrying away our mizen-mast, and with it the greater number of our assailants, who failed to regain their own ship. With our mizen-mast of course went our colours, but that the Frenchmen might not suppose that we had given in, Harry Barling, one of our quarter-masters, getting hold of a Union Jack, nailed it to the stump of the mizen-mast.
I had hoped, by this, to have been able to put him on the track of Nur-el-Din, but, for the moment, it looks as if we had lost the scent. But you can tell our friend all we know about the lady's antecedents what we had from my French colleague the other day, you know? Let him have all the particulars about this Barling case you know about that, don't you?
But some kind of a what I may say a voice kept a-saying, 'Tom Barling, you're not a good 'un, and at last I got what I wanted, and I bursts out crying for joy, for I had learned to trust my blessed Saviour, whose blood cleanses from all sin.
Whatever he was going to do, he must do quickly; for the fact that people were beginning to darken their windows showed that it must be close on half-past six, and about seven o'clock, Barling, after putting out Desmond's things, was accustomed to go out for the evening. Should he shout? Should he try and break the window? Desmond rejected both these suggestions.
Then suddenly the room seemed full of people. The thongs binding his hands and feet fell to the ground. "Buzzer" Barling stood at his side. A man broke quickly away from the throng of people pressing into the room. It was Francis. The Chief and Mr. Marigold were close at his heels. "Des," cried Francis, "ah! thank God! you are all right!" Desmond looked in a dazed fashion from one to the other.
Barling and Mason, observing all this, and enjoying it, were generally the first to break the reigning silence; and this was usually done by addressing some remark to Scragg, for no other reason, it seemed, than to hear his growling reply.
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