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Then for the first time I took a personal interest in Hawberk. "It was worth something to you," I ventured. "No," he replied, laughing, "my pleasure in finding it was my reward." "Have you no ambition to be rich?" I asked, smiling. "My one ambition is to be the best armourer in the world," he answered gravely. Constance asked me if I had seen the ceremonies at the Lethal Chamber.
"What do you know about Mr. Wilde? He doesn't need the money. He is rich or will be richer than any living man except myself. What will we care for money then what will we care, he and I, when when " "When what?" demanded Hawberk, astonished. "You will see," I replied, on my guard again. He looked at me narrowly, much as Doctor Archer used to, and I knew he thought I was mentally unsound.
This was the missing greave of a famous suit which a client of his had traced to a little shop in Paris on the Quai d'Orsay. He, Hawberk, had negotiated for and secured the greave, and now the suit was complete. He laid down his hammer and read me the history of the suit, traced since 1450 from owner to owner until it was acquired by Thomas Stainbridge.
I smiled at her confusion and complimented her on the banner she was embroidering from a coloured plate. Old Hawberk sat riveting the worn greaves of some ancient suit of armour, and the ting! ting! ting! of his little hammer sounded pleasantly in the quaint shop. Presently he dropped his hammer, and fussed about for a moment with a tiny wrench.
I visited him last night and the interview was final." Louis turned quite pale, but did not move. I resumed triumphantly, "There are yet three people to be interviewed in the interests of Mr. Wilde and myself. They are my cousin Louis, Mr. Hawberk, and his daughter Constance." Louis sprang to his feet and I arose also, and flung the paper marked with the Yellow Sign to the ground.
It will secure the happiness and prosperity of a continent yes, a hemisphere!" "Oh," said Hawberk. "And eventually," I continued more quietly, "it will secure the happiness of the whole world." "And incidentally your own happiness and prosperity as well as Mr. Wilde's?" "Exactly," I smiled. But I could have throttled him for taking that tone.
For three weeks there was sharp fighting; and, finally, a battle, in which the younger William was wounded, and the elder, cased in his full armor of chain mail, encountered unknowingly with Robert, in the like disguising hawberk.
Old Hawberk, leaning on his ivory headed cane, lighted an excellent cigar, the mate to which I politely refused, and smiled at vacancy. The sun hung low above the Staten Island woods, and the bay was dyed with golden hues reflected from the sun-warmed sails of the shipping in the harbour.
He chanced to put on his hawberk with the wrong side before, and seeing some of his men disconcerted, fancying this a token of ill, he told them that it boded that his dukedom should be turned to a kingdom.
The soft clash of the mail sent a thrill of pleasure through me. I loved to hear the music of steel brushing against steel, the mellow shock of the mallet on thigh pieces, and the jingle of chain armour. That was the only reason I went to see Hawberk. He had never interested me personally, nor did Constance, except for the fact of her being in love with Louis.
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