The Cruise of the "Scandal", and other stories — Reading Companion

Dryden was cheerfully prepared to furnish a flattering introduction to the work of any author on the simple understanding that he was not expected to read the volume in question.

Not possessing the pen of Dryden, and being additionally handicapped by the fact that I have read the accompanying stories, I find myself very much at a loss how to fulfil my publishers' request. Desperate situations demand desperate remedies, and I will, therefore, tell the truth. I wrote these stories in order to satisfy an inward craving--not for artistic expression, but for food and drink. I took a great deal of trouble over them, and if they are not good they are at least as good as I could make them. I should not, however, have had the audacity to offer them to the American public in book form, except for the fact that they have sold well and are continuing to sell well in England. The most curious phenomena occasionally repeat themselves, and it is with a wistful hope that something of the sort may occur in the present case that I venture to launch the _Scandal_ on the time-honoured trail of Columbus.

CHELSEA; LONDON, January 2, 1920.

The Cruise of the "_Scandal_"

The Man with the Chin

Tony and His Conscience

With the Conquering Turkey

The Strange Adventure of Mr. Bates

Full-back for England

The Bronze-haired Girl

The Cruise of the "_Scandal_"

"One must never forget," said George solemnly, "that rank has its duties as well as its privileges." I helped myself to another glass of champagne.

"What is it you want me to do?" I asked.

"I have no wish to dictate to you in any way," he answered. "I am merely offering you my advice. As your elder brother and the head of the family, I naturally take an interest in your career."

"Fire ahead," I replied gratefully. "I'm always ready to listen to wisdom, especially from a Cabinet Minister."

There was a short pause.

"Well, then," said George, taking a thoughtful pull at his cigar, "my advice is that you should accept this invitation from Lady Bulstrode, and make up your mind to settle down."

"To do what?" I asked in dismay.

"To settle down," repeated George, with some firmness. "If you are ever going to do anything with your life, it's quite time you started. You can't go wandering about the world in this aimless fashion for ever."

"But it isn't aimless, George," I protested. "I always have an excellent reason for going anywhere."

"And may I ask what your 'excellent reason' was for spending the whole of last year in the wilds of Kashmir?"

"I wanted to shoot a snow leopard," I said.

George shrugged his shoulders.

"Exactly what I mean. A year of your life thrown away on a frivolous piece of sport."

"Frivolous!" I echoed. "There's devilish little frivolity about shooting a snow leopard. You try it."

"Thank you," said George coldly. "I have something better to do with my time."

It was plain that he was getting a little huffy, and my conscience pricked me. With all his seriousness George is an excellent fellow.

"Look here, old son," I said. "Politics are all very well for you--you've got a turn for that sort of thing--but what on earth use should I be? I can't talk for nuts, and know rather less about the game than this cigar."

George frowned slightly.

"Politics," he observed, "are not a game, and with regard to your knowing nothing about them--I suppose you can learn. You have plenty of ability if you care to use it. Sir Henry Martin was telling me only yesterday that your paper about New Guinea in the _Fortnightly_ was quoted by practically every witness at the Royal Commission.

"Good!" said I. "That must be why the editor wants me to write him something about Kashmir."

George nodded his head approvingly.

"I hope you will do so. Nowadays serious journalism is as good an introduction to a political career as you could possibly have. Besides, one would like to feel that all these years of wandering about have not been entirely wasted."

"Oh, they've not been wasted, George," I said. "I've enjoyed 'em enormously. The only thing is they've rather put me off what people call civilization. I can stand a couple of months of London, but I'm afraid I should get frightfully fed up if I stopped here much longer."

George leaned back in his chair and drummed lightly on the table with his fingers.