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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I reported that civil war in Ireland was imminent and inevitable and would come only the sooner for any continental trouble in which England might become engaged." Mr. Hebblethwaite's face cleared. "I begin to understand now, Norgate," he muttered. "Good fellow!" Mr. Bullen was summoned in hot haste by one of his supporters and hurried out. Norgate drew his chair a little closer to his friend's.
But I have come to warn you that possibly within a few days, probably within a week, certainly within a fortnight, England will be at war." Mr. Wyatt glanced down at Hebblethwaite's letter. "You are rather taking my breath away, Mr. Norgate!" "I can't help it, sir," Norgate said simply. "I know that what I am telling you must sound like a fairy tale. I beg you to take it from me as the truth."
Norgate found himself in an atmosphere of strange excitement during his two hours' waiting at the House of Commons on the following day. He was ushered at last into Mr. Hebblethwaite's private room. Hebblethwaite had just come in from the House and was leaning a little back in his chair, in an attitude of repose. He glanced at Norgate with a faint smile.
Selingman, with a gold-topped cane under his arm, a fresh cigar between his lips, and a broad smile of good-fellowship upon his face, strolled down one of the wings of the Promenade. Suddenly he came to a standstill. In the box opposite to him, Norgate and Hebblethwaite were seated side by side. Selingman regarded them for a moment steadfastly. "A friend of Hebblethwaite's!" he muttered.
"I didn't come here to cadge, Hebblethwaite. I am never likely to make use of my friends in that way. I came for a bigger thing. I came to try and make you see a danger, the reality of which I have just begun to appreciate myself for the first time in my life." Mr. Hebblethwaite's manner slowly changed. He pulled down his waistcoat, finished off a glass of wine, and leaned forward.
He jumped into a taxi, gave an address in Belgrave Square, and within a quarter of an hour was ushered into the presence of Mr. Spencer Wyatt, who was seated at a writing-table covered with papers. "Mr. Norgate, isn't it?" the latter remarked briskly. "I had Mr. Hebblethwaite's note, and I am very pleased to give you five minutes. Sit down, won't you, and fire away." "Did Mr.
I heard him instructed to procure a list of the wealthy inhabitants of Ghent and the rateable value of the city, and I heard him commissioned to purchase land in the neighbourhood of Antwerp for a secret purpose." Mr. Hebblethwaite's eyebrows became slowly upraised. The twinkle in his eyes remained, however. "My!" he exclaimed softly. "We're getting on with the romance all right!"
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