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Updated: May 16, 2025
The days went on, and to Mrs. Otway's surprise and bitter disappointment, there came no answer to the letter she had written to the German surgeon. She had felt so sure that he would write again very soon if not exactly by return, then within a week or ten days. The only people she told were Major Guthrie's solicitor, Robert Allen, and her daughter.
Guthrie's death he could not of course tell which they intended to make one of those middle-aged marriages which often, strange to say, turn out more happily than earlier marriages are sometimes apt to do. The lawyer naturally kept his views to himself during the afternoon he spent at Dorycote House, and he simply treated Mrs. Otway as though she had been a near relation of the deceased lady.
Is anything the matter, Howard? You look as if things had gone wrong. You don't mind that nonsense of Guthrie's, do you? I was an ass to get him to do it; I hate doing a stupid thing, and he is simply wild with me. It's no good saying it is not like, because it is in a way, but of course it's only a rag. It isn't absurd when you do it, only when someone else does."
Job is a small book, so is the Psalms, so is Isaiah, so is the Gospel of John, so is the Epistle to the Romans, so is the Confessions, so is the Comedy, so is the Imitation, so are the Pilgrim and the Grace Abounding, and though William Guthrie's small book is not for a moment to be ranked with such master-pieces as these, yet it is a small book on a great subject, and a book to which I cannot find a second among the big religious books of our day.
Otway, while taking off her things, and watching Anna unpack her bag, told of Major Guthrie's home-coming. In simple words she described the little group of people of mothers, of wives, of sweethearts and of friends who had waited at the London Docks for that precious argosy, the ship from Holland, to come in.
How he had begun by telling Mr. Guthrie of his own and Mr. MacFarlane's opinion of the property, as he did not want to sell anything he himself considered worthless. How he had told him frankly what Peter had said of his Mr. Guthrie's fairness and honesty; how he was at work for his prospective father-in-law, the distinguished engineer of whom Mr.
Mind you, whatever it was, it hadn't come in by the front. I have made inquiries everywhere, but without result." He stopped abruptly. "No. 189 Mr. Guthrie's door, sir." Smith knocked. "Hallo!" came a muffled voice; "what do you want?" "Open the door! Don't delay; it is important." He turned to the hotel detective.
The first four words were printed, but what was really very strange was the fact that the sentences written in were almost similar in each case. But whereas Jervis Blake wrote his few words in English, Major Guthrie's few words were written in French. Jervis Blake's postcard ran: "I AM QUITE WELL and very happy. This is a glorious country. I will write a letter soon." And then "J. B."
This fine stroke of diplomacy had its effect, however; the rebel captains agreed to a formal interview with Col. Guthrie and Capt. Sadler, and a treaty was at last executed with all due solemnity, under a large cotton-tree at the entrance of Guthrie's Defile. This treaty recognized the military rank of "Capt. Cudjoe," "Capt.
There would have been plenty of room for the three of them leaning back, but he had preferred to sit opposite to them, and now he was looking, with a good deal of sympathy, interest, and respect at the blind soldier, and with equal interest, but with less liking and respect, at Major Guthrie's wife. Mr.
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