In the Fog | Page 2

African explorer, young Chetney, who turned up
yesterday after he was supposed to have died in Uganda, did nothing
adventurous. He made maps and explored the sources of rivers. He was
in constant danger, but the presence of danger does not constitute
adventure. Were that so, the chemist who studies high explosives, or
who investigates deadly poisons, passes through adventures daily. No,
'adventures are for the adventurous.' But one no longer ventures. The
spirit of it has died of inertia. We are grown too practical, too just,
above all, too sensible. In this room, for instance, members of this Club
have, at the sword's point, disputed the proper scanning of one of
Pope's couplets. Over so weighty a matter as spilled Burgundy on a
gentleman's cuff, ten men fought across this table, each with his rapier
in one hand and a candle in the other. All ten were wounded. The
question of the spilled Burgundy concerned but two of them. The eight
others engaged because they were men of 'spirit.' They were, indeed,
the first gentlemen of the day. To-night, were you to spill Burgundy on
my cuff, were you even to insult me grossly, these gentlemen would
not consider it incumbent upon them to kill each other. They would
separate us, and to-morrow morning appear as witnesses against us at
Bow Street. We have here to-night, in the persons of Sir Andrew and
myself, an illustration of how the ways have changed."
The men around the table turned and glanced toward the gentleman in
front of the fireplace. He was an elderly and somewhat portly person,
with a kindly, wrinkled countenance, which wore continually a smile of
almost childish confidence and good-nature. It was a face which the
illustrated prints had made intimately familiar. He held a book from
him at arm's-length, as if to adjust his eyesight, and his brows were knit
with interest.
"Now, were this the eighteenth century," continued the gentleman with
the black pearl, "when Sir Andrew left the Club to-night I would have
him bound and gagged and thrown into a sedan chair. The watch would
not interfere, the passers-by would take to their heels, my hired bullies
and ruffians would convey him to some lonely spot where we would
guard him until morning. Nothing would come of it, except added

reputation to myself as a gentleman of adventurous spirit, and possibly
an essay in the 'Tatler,' with stars for names, entitled, let us say, 'The
Budget and the Baronet.'"
"But to what end, sir?" inquired the youngest of the members. "And
why Sir Andrew, of all persons--why should you select him for this
adventure?"
The gentleman with the black pearl shrugged his shoulders.
"It would prevent him speaking in the House to-night. The Navy
Increase Bill," he added gloomily. "It is a Government measure, and Sir
Andrew speaks for it. And so great is his influence and so large his
following that if he does"--the gentleman laughed ruefully--"if he does,
it will go through. Now, had I the spirit of our ancestors," he exclaimed,
"I would bring chloroform from the nearest chemist's and drug him in
that chair. I would tumble his unconscious form into a hansom cab, and
hold him prisoner until daylight. If I did, I would save the British
taxpayer the cost of five more battleships, many millions of pounds."
The gentlemen again turned, and surveyed the baronet with freshened
interest. The honorary member of the Grill, whose accent already had
betrayed him as an American, laughed softly.
"To look at him now," he said, "one would not guess he was deeply
concerned with the affairs of state."
The others nodded silently.
"He has not lifted his eyes from that book since we first entered," added
the youngest member. "He surely cannot mean to speak to-night."
"Oh, yes, he will speak," muttered the one with the black pearl moodily.
"During these last hours of the session the House sits late, but when the
Navy bill comes up on its third reading he will be in his place--and he
will pass it."
The fourth member, a stout and florid gentleman of a somewhat

sporting appearance, in a short smoking-jacket and black tie, sighed
enviously.
"Fancy one of us being as cool as that, if he knew he had to stand up
within an hour and rattle off a speech in Parliament. I 'd be in a devil of
a funk myself. And yet he is as keen over that book he's reading as
though he had nothing before him until bedtime."
"Yes, see how eager he is," whispered the youngest member. "He does
not lift his eyes even now when he cuts the pages. It is probably an
Admiralty Report, or some other weighty work of statistics which bears
upon his speech."
The