The general said with a gloating irony:
“A damn pretty pass to come to … You put a general officer under arrest … Then you say you had misjudged him! … I am not saying you were not performing a duty …” He went on to recount the classical case of a subaltern, cited in King’s Regulations, temp. William IV, who was court-martialled and broken for not putting under arrest his colonel who came drunk on to parade … He was exhibiting his sensuous delight in misplaced erudition.
Tietjens heard himself say with great slowness:
“I absolutely deny, sir, that I put General O’Hara under arrest! I have gone into the matter very minutely with Colonel Levin.”
The general burst out:
“By God! I had taken that woman to be a saint … I swear she is a saint …”
Tietjens said:
“There is no accusation against Mrs. Tietjens, sir!”
The general said:
“By God, there is!”
Tietjens said:
“I am prepared to take all the blame, sir.”
The general said:
“You shan’t … I am determined to get to the bottom of all this … You have treated your wife damn badly … You admit to that …”
Tietjens said:
“With great want of consideration, sir …”
The general said:
“You have been living practically on terms of separation from her for a number of years? You don’t deny that that was on account of your own misbehaviour. For how many years?”
Tietjens said:
“I don’t know, sir … Six or seven!”
The general said sharply:
“Think, then … It began when you admitted to me that you had been sold up because you kept a girl in a tobacco-shop? That was at Rye in 1912 …”
Tietjens said:
“We have not been on terms since 1912, sir.”
The general said:
“But why? … She’s a most beautiful woman. She’s adorable. What could you want better? … She’s the mother of your child …”
Tietjens said:
“Is it necessary to go into all this, sir? … Our differences were caused by … by differences of temperament. She, as you say, is a beautiful and reckless woman … Reckless in an admirable way. I, on the other hand …”
The general exclaimed:
“Yes! that’s just it … What the hell are you? … You’re not a soldier. You’ve got the makings of a damn good soldier. You amaze me at times. Yet you’re a disaster; you are a disaster to everyone who has to do with you. You are as conceited as a hog; you are as obstinate as a bullock … You drive me mad … And you have ruined the life of that beautiful woman … For I maintain she once had the disposition of a saint … Now: I’m waiting for your explanation!”
Tietjens said:
“In civilian life, sir, I was a statistician. Second secretary to the Department of Statistics …”
The general exclaimed convictingly:
“And they’ve thrown you out of that! Because of the mysterious rows you made …”
Tietjens said:
“Because, sir, I was in favour of the single command …”
The general began a long wrangle: “But why were you? What the hell had it got to do with you?” Couldn’t Tietjens have given the Department the statistics they wanted—even if it meant faking them? What was discipline for if subordinates were to act on their consciences? The home Government had wanted statistics faked in order to dish the Allies … Well … Was Tietjens French or English? Every damn thing Tietjens did … Every damn thing, made it more impossible to do anything for him! With his attainments he ought to be attached to the staff of the French Commander-in-Chief. But that was forbidden in his, Tietjens’, confidential report. There was an underlined note in it to that effect. Where else, then, in Heaven’s name, could Tietjens be sent to? He looked at Tietjens with intent blue eyes:
“Where else, in God’s name … I am not using the Almighty’s name blasphemously … can you be sent to? I know it’s probably death to send you up the line—in your condition of health. And to poor Perry’s Army. The Germans will be through it the minute the weather breaks.”
He began again: “You understand: I’m not the War Office. I can’t send any officer anywhere. I can’t send you to Malta or India. Or to other commands in France. I can send you home—in disgrace. I can send you to your own battalion. On promotion! … Do you understand my situation? … I have no alternative.”
Tietjens said:
“Not altogether, sir.”
The general swallowed and wavered from side to side. He said:
“For God’s sake, try to … I am genuinely concerned for you. I won’t—I’m damned if I will!—let it appear that you’re disgraced … If you were McKechnie himself I wouldn’t! The only really good jobs I’ve got to give away are on my own staff. I can’t have you there. Because of the men. At the same time …”
He paused and said with a ponderous shyness:
“I believe there’s a God … I believe that, though wrong may flourish, right will triumph in the end! … If a man is innocent, his innocence will one day appear … In a humble way I want to … help Providence … I want someone to be able one day to say: ‘General Campion, who knew the ins and outs of the affair …’ promoted you! In the middle of it …” He said: “It isn’t much. But it’s not nepotism. I would do as much for any man in your position.”
Tietjens said:
“It’s at least the act of a Christian gentleman!”
A certain lacklustre joy appeared in the general’s eyes. He said:
“I’m not used to this sort of situation … I hope I’ve always tried to help my junior officers … But a case like this …” He said:
“Damn it … The general commanding the 9th French Army is an intimate friend of mine … But in face of your confidential report—I can’t ask him to ask for you. That’s blocked!”
Tietjens said:
“I do not propose, sir, at any rate in your eyes, to pass as putting the interests of any power before those of my own country. If you examine my confidential report you will find that the unfavourable insertions are initialled G. D. … They are the initials of a Major Drake …”
The general said bewilderingly:
“Drake … Drake … I’ve heard the name.”
Tietjens said:
“It doesn’t matter, sir … Major Drake’s a gentleman who doesn’t like me …”
The general said:
“There are so many. You
