girl to be compromised on her first date, I now seem to be harboring a fugitive. So the first thing my father will want to know is whether your intentions are honorable, or can I only hope to be a criminal’s moll?”
“I’m surprised you need to ask, Mrs. Mallory.”
“It’s just that my father told me that you already have a mistress who resides in very high places.”
“Your father is correct, and I explained to him that I have been promised to the lady in question since my coming of age, and several people have already borne witness to the engagement. It’s what they call in Tibet an arranged marriage-where neither party sees the other before the wedding day.”
“Then you must visit this little hussy as soon as possible,” said Ruth, “and tell her in no uncertain terms that you are spoken for.”
“I fear she’s not that little,” said George with a grin. “But once the diplomatic niceties have been sorted out, I hope to pay her a visit early in the new year, when I will explain why it’s no longer possible for us to go on seeing each other.”
“No woman ever wants to be told that,” said Ruth, sounding serious for the first time. “You can tell her that I’ll agree to a compromise.”
George smiled. “A compromise?”
“It’s possible,” said Ruth, “that this goddess may not agree to see you when you make your first approach, because like any woman, she will want to confirm that you are constant and will return to woo her again. All I ask, George, is that once you have seduced your goddess, you will return to me, and never court her again.”
“Why so serious, my darling?” asked George, taking her hand.
“Because when I saw you climb St. Mark’s you convinced me of your love, but I also saw the risks you’re willing to take if you believe in something passionately enough-whatever dangers are placed in your path. I want you to promise me that once you’ve stood on the summit of that infernal mountain, it will be for the first and last time.”
“I agree, and shall now prove it,” said George, letting go of her hand. He took the little package out of his pocket, removed the wrapping, and placed the small leather box in front of her. Ruth opened the lid to reveal a slim gold ring set with a single diamond.
“Will you marry me, my darling?”
Ruth smiled. “I thought we’d agreed on that yesterday,” she said as she slipped on the ring, leaned across the table and gave her fiance a kiss.
“But I thought we also agreed that…”
George considered Mr. Turner’s offer for a moment before he said, “Thank you, sir.” After managing to score three points, his first of the evening, he added, “That’s most generous of you.”
“It’s no more, and certainly no less, than I decided when you came to see Ruth in Venice.” George laughed for the first time that evening. “Despite the fact,” added Turner, “that you only escaped being thrown in jail by a matter of minutes.”
“By a matter of minutes?”
“Yes,” Turner replied after he’d potted another red. “I had a visit from the Italian police later that afternoon. They wanted to know if I’d come across an Englishman called Mallory who had at some time in the past been arrested in Paris for climbing the Eiffel Tower.”
“That wasn’t me, sir,” said George.
“The description of this vagabond bore a striking resemblance to you, Mallory.”
“It’s still not true, sir. I had at least a hundred feet to go when they arrested me.”
Turner burst out laughing. “All I can say, Mallory, is that you’d better not plan to spend your honeymoon in France or Italy, unless you wish to spend your first night of married life in a prison cell. Mind you, when I looked into your criminal activities in Venice, it seems that you only broke a by-law.”
“A by-law?”
“Failure to pay an entrance fee when entering a public monument.” Turner paused, “Maximum fine one thousand lire.” He smiled at his future son-in-law. “On a more serious matter, dear boy-my game, I think.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“DO YOU THINK we’ll have to go to war, sir?” asked Wainwright on the first day of term.
“Let’s hope not, Wainwright,” George replied.
“Why not, sir, if it’s a just cause? After all, we should stand up for what we believe in; the English always have in the past.”
“But if it were possible to negotiate an honorable agreement with the Germans,” said George, “wouldn’t that be a better solution?”
“You can’t negotiate an honorable agreement with the Hun, sir. They never keep to their side of the bargain.”
“Perhaps history will prove you wrong on this occasion,” said George.
“You’ve always taught us, sir, to study the past carefully if you want to predict the most likely outcome in the future, and the Hun-”
“The Germans, Wainwright.”
“The Germans, sir, have throughout history proved to be a warlike nation.”
“Some might say the same of the English, whenever it’s been in our interests.”
“Not true, sir,” said Wainwright. “England only goes to war when there’s a just cause.”
“As seen by the English,” suggested George, which silenced Wainwright for a moment.
“But if we did have to go to war,” jumped in Carter minor, “would you enlist?”
Before George could reply, Wainwright interjected, “Mr. Asquith has said that should we go to war, schoolmasters would be exempt from serving in the armed forces.”
“You seem unusually well informed on this subject, Wainwright,” said George.
“My father’s a general, sir.”
“Views overheard in the nursery are always harder to dislodge than those taught in the classroom,” replied George.
“Who said that?” asked Graves.
“Bertrand Russell,” George replied.
“And everyone knows he’s a conchie,” chipped in Wainwright.
“What’s a conchie?” asked Carter minor.
“A conscientious objector. Someone who will use any excuse not to fight for his country,” said Wainwright.
“Everyone should be allowed to follow their own conscience, Wainwright, when it comes to facing a moral dilemma.”
“Bertrand Russell, no doubt,” said Wainwright.
“Jesus Christ, actually,” said George.
Wainwright fell silent, but Carter minor came back, “If we were to go to war, sir, wouldn’t that rather scupper your chances of climbing Everest?”
“My personal belief-” began George just as the bell sounded. The class, in their eagerness not to miss morning break, didn’t seem all that interested in his personal beliefs.
As George walked across to the common room, he dismissed any thoughts of war in the hope of coming to a peaceful settlement with Andrew, whom he hadn’t seen since he’d returned from Venice. When he opened the
