“Those against?”
No hands were raised.
“Are there any abstentions?”
Young raised his hand.
“Before you make a note in the minutes, Mr. Hinks,” said Younghusband, “don’t you think, Young, that it would be helpful if we were to give General Bruce our unanimous support?”
“In normal circumstances I would agree with you, Mr. Chairman,” said Young. Sir Francis smiled. “However, I feel it would be irresponsible of me to vote for a man I’ve never met, however well qualified he appears to be.”
“So be it,” said Sir Francis. “I declare the motion carried by four votes to none, with one abstention.”
“Shall I ask General Bruce to join us?” said Hinks.
“Yes, please do,” replied Sir Francis.
Hinks rose from his place and a porter immediately jumped up, opened the door at the far end of the room, and stood aside to allow him to enter an ante-room where three men were seated, waiting to be called before the committee.
“General Bruce, if you would be kind enough to join us?” said Hinks, without giving the other two men so much as a glance.
“Thank you, Hinks,” said the General, heaving himself up from his chair and following the secretary slowly back into the committee room.
“Welcome, General Bruce,” said Sir Francis. “Do come and join us,” he added, ushering Bruce toward an empty chair.
“I am delighted to tell you,” said Sir Francis after Bruce had taken his seat, “that the committee has voted to invite you to oversee this great adventure, and also to join us as a member of the executive board.”
“My thanks, Mr. Chairman, to you and the committee for its confidence,” said the General, toying with his monocle before pouring himself a large whiskey. “Be assured I will do my damnedest to prove worthy of it.”
“I believe you’re acquainted with everyone on the committee, General, except our deputy chairman, Mr. Young.”
Young took a closer look at the General, and doubted if he was a day under sixty. If he was to make the arduous journey to the foothills of the Himalaya, a very sturdy beast would be needed to transport him.
“Our next duty, gentlemen,” said Sir Francis, “is to select a climbing leader, who will take over from General Bruce once he has led the expedition across the border into Tibet where he will set up base camp. The person we choose will have the responsibility of identifying the route by which the final party, possibly including himself, will make the first assault on the summit of Everest.” Sir Francis paused. “Let us pray that whomever we select will succeed in this noble enterprise.”
Young bowed his head, and wondered if any of the men seated around the table had the slightest idea what they were asking these brave young men to do in God’s name.
Sir Francis paused again before adding, “The Alpine Club has put forward two names for our consideration. Perhaps this would be the appropriate moment to ask our deputy chairman if he would like to say a few words by way of introduction.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” said Young. “I can tell the committee that in the opinion of the Alpine Club, these two candidates are unquestionably the finest climbers in the British Isles. The only other man in their class was Siegfried Herford, who was sadly cut down at Ypres.”
“Thank you,” said the chairman. “I should point out once again that had Captain Young not been wounded on the Western Front, there would be no need for this interview to take place.”
“It’s kind of you to say so, Mr. Chairman, but I can assure the committee that both of these young men are capable of carrying out the task.”
“And which of the two gentlemen should we see first?” asked Sir Francis.
“Mr. Leigh Mallory,” said Hinks, before anyone else could offer an opinion.
“It’s George Mallory, actually,” said Young.
“Very well, perhaps we should invite Mr. Mallory to join us,” suggested the chairman.
Once again Hinks rose from his place, and the porter opened the door that led into the ante-room. Hinks peered at the two men who were seated below a portrait of Queen Mary, and without having the slightest idea which was which, said, “Mr. Mallory, please follow me.” George stood up.
“Good luck, Mallory,” said Finch. “Don’t forget that you’ve only got one friend in there.”
Hinks stopped in his tracks, and for a moment looked as if he was going to respond, but evidently thought better of it and walked back into the committee room without another word.
“Mr. Mallory,” said Sir Francis as George entered the room. “It’s good of you to spare us your time.” He rose from his chair and shook hands with the candidate. “I do apologize for keeping you waiting.” George smiled. “I know that Mr. Young has informed you why you’re here this evening, so perhaps you’d be kind enough to take a seat at the top of the table. The committee have one or two questions for you.”
“Of course, Sir Francis,” said George a little nervously.
“May I begin,” said Sir Francis once George was seated, “by asking if you are in any doubt that we can succeed in this massive endeavor, and by that I mean conquering Everest.”
“No one can possibly answer that question with any authority, Sir Francis,” said George, “as only a handful of mountaineers have ever climbed higher than 20,000 feet. My brother Trafford, a pilot with the RAF, tells me that even an airplane hasn’t yet reached 29,000 feet, which is the height of Everest.”
“But you’d still be willing to give it a go, wouldn’t you?” asked Raeburn who was puffing away on a cigar, and looked as if his idea of a challenging climb would be the steps to his club.
“Of course I would,” said George enthusiastically. “But as no one has ever attempted to scale Everest, we have no way of knowing what difficulties it might present. For example-”
“Are you a married man, Mr. Mallory?” asked Commander Ashcroft, reading from the piece of paper in front of him.
“Yes, I am, sir.”
“Any family?”
“Two daughters,” George replied, slightly puzzled by the question. He couldn’t see how Clare and Beridge could possibly help him to climb a 29,000-foot mountain.
“Are there any more questions for Mr. Mallory?” asked Sir Francis as he checked his half-hunter pocket watch.
Was that it? thought George in disbelief. Was this bunch of old buffers going to decide between Finch and himself on the basis of such irrelevant questions? It looked as if Finch had been right about Hinks and his cronies.
“I have a question for Mr. Mallory,” said Hinks.
George smiled. Perhaps he’d misjudged the man.
“Can I confirm,” said Hinks, “that you were educated at Winchester?”
“Yes, I was,” said George, wondering once again what possible relevance the question might have.
“And from there you went up to Magdalene College, Cambridge, to read history?”
“Yes,” repeated George. He was tempted to add, “But I had to climb the college wall to make sure they offered me a place,” but somehow he managed to hold his tongue.
“And you graduated with an honors degree before taking up a teaching post at Charterhouse?”
“That is correct,” said George, still unsure where this could possibly be leading.
“And although as a schoolmaster you were exempt from serving in the armed forces, you nevertheless volunteered and were commissioned as an officer in the Royal Artillery, seeing action on the Western Front?”
“Yes,” said George. He glanced at Young in the hope of guidance, only to find that he looked equally bemused.
“And after the war you returned to Charterhouse to become the senior history master.”
George nodded, but said nothing.
“That’s all I needed to know. Thank you, Mr. Chairman.”
George once again glanced at Young, but he just shrugged his shoulders.
“Are there any more questions for Mr. Mallory?” asked Sir Francis. “Or can we let him go?”
The man with the cigar raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Raeburn?” said Younghusband.
