The Comforters

‘I should never have thought of the man as being foremost in anything.’

‘How does he strike you, tell me?’

‘Between ourselves, Baron, he strikes me, between ourselves, as a cynic, as they say, and a misanthropist. A tedious fellow.’

‘Devoted to his son, though?’

‘I don’t know, I do not. He behaves well to the lad. Mrs Jepp believes, and this is between ourselves, Baron, that he only sticks to the boy in order to spite his former wife. At least that was her impression when she first met them.’

‘This diamond trading was Mrs Jepp’s idea, wasn’t it?’

‘Oh yes. Oh, and she enjoys it, Mrs Jepp would be the last to deny it.’

‘They don’t need money, the Hogarths?’

‘No. Hogarth himself is comfortable. The unfortunate young man does so enjoy evading the customs, Baron.’

The Baron put a finger to his lips with a smile. Mr Webster lowered his voice as he thanked his host for the replenishment of his glass.

‘Evading the customs has made a great difference to young Andrew Hogarth. It has given him confidence,’ Mr Webster said in low tones.

‘When Mrs Jepp first suggested this arrangement to me — for it was she, you know, who approached me with the scheme, she came straight in to the shop here a few days after I had met her with Laurence and stated her proposition most admirably; I could see her quality. Well, when she put it to me she added that if I should agree to come in with her, I must undertake not to inquire into the methods used by the more active agents. When I had thought over her suggestion and had satisfied myself that the plan was genuinely and well conceived — allowing for the usual risk which I do not find unpleasurable — I agreed exactly to Mrs Jepp’s terms. I mention this, because frankly I would not be within my rights if I asked you by what means the Hogarths convey their valuables. Up to the past few months I have not been greatly interested in that side of the transactions, but now I am greatly interested because of my interest in the actions of Mervyn Hogarth.’

‘I do not know their method,’ said Mr Webster, and the Baron could not tell if he were speaking the truth or not, so unaltered were his sharp blue eyes.

‘Hogarth is a diabolist. I am intensely interested in Hogarth for the reason that I am interested in the psychology of diabolism. You do not know the madness of scholarly curiosity, Mr Webster. To be interested and at the same time disinterested. …

‘I can well understand it, Baron. But I should not have thought the elder Mr Hogarth indulged in any exotic practices. He seems to me a disillusioned man, far from an enthusiast.’

‘That is the interesting factor,’ said the Baron excitedly. ‘From all I have discovered of the man’s personality, he is drenched in disillusionment, an intelligent man, a bored man; an unsuccessful man with women, indifferent to friendships. Yet, he is a fanatical diabolist. You will keep my confidence, Mr Webster.’

‘Baron, of course. And now I must be going.’

‘A fanatic,’ said the Baron as he escorted Mr Webster from the inside to the outside. ‘A pity the Hogarths did not go abroad. I would have called on Mrs Jepp. She may have been persuaded to tell me more of Mervyn Hogarth. However, I shall be meeting him myself very soon, I believe.’

‘Good day to you, Baron.’

‘My regards to Mrs Jepp.’ And he added, ‘Be assured, Mr Webster, the risk is neglig-ible.’

‘Oh, Hogarth is not dangerous.’

‘I do not mean Hogarth. I mean our happy trade. We are amateurs. There is a specially protective providence for amateurs. How easily the powerful and organized professionals come to grief! They fall like Lucifer—’

‘Quite so, Baron.’

‘But we innocents are difficult to trip up.

‘I shouldn’t call us innocents. Ho!’ said Mr Webster stepping forth. ‘That’s the point… .’ But by this time the old man had gone out of hearing.

‘I don’t pretend to understand women,’ Mervyn Hogarth stated over the brandy. He looked at his host as if he were not sure he had said the right thing, for there was a touch of the woman, a musing effect in the baby-faced, white-haired man.

‘The lamb was not right or else the sauce, I fear,’ Ernest Manders mused. After all, he had not gone to Sussex. He had contrived a better plan.

‘I take it you are speaking in good faith?’ Mervyn Hogarth was saying.

‘The lamb —?’

‘No, no, the subject we were discussing, I take it —’

‘Do let’s take it that way, Mr Hogarth.’

‘Manders, I meant no offence. I wanted to make my mind clear —only that. It seems to me a definitely odd suggestion to come from Eleanor, she knows my position, definitely.’

‘It was only, you see, that we’re temporarily in a tight place. Baron Stock has withdrawn his support. Naturally Eleanor thought of you. It was a kind of compliment.’

‘Oh, definitely.’

‘And if you can’t, you can’t, that is quite understood,’ said Ernest.

‘Have you approached your brother?’