Summons, The 
 
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Title: The Summons 
Author: A.E.W. Mason 
Release Date: July 28, 2005 [EBook #16381] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
SUMMONS *** 
 
Produced by Ted Garvin and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team 
at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
THE SUMMONS 
BY A.E.W. MASON 
AUTHOR OF "THE FOUR FEATHERS," "THE TURNSTILE," ETC. 
NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1920. BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
TO THOSE WHO SERVED WITH ME ABROAD THROUGH THE 
FOUR YEARS 
 
CONTENTS 
CHAPTER 
I 
THE OLYMPIC GAMES 11 
II AN ANTHEM INTERVENES 18 
III MARIO ESCOBAR 28 
IV THE SECRET OF HARRY LUTTRELL 35 
V HILLYARD'S MESSENGER 47 
VI THE HONORARY MEMBER 55 
VII IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN 65 
VIII HILLYARD HEARS NEWS OF AN OLD FRIEND 70 
IX ENTER THE HEROINE IN ANYTHING BUT WHITE SATIN 80 
X THE SUMMONS 91 
XI STELLA RUNS TO EARTH 100 
XII IN BARCELONA 111
XIII OLD ACQUAINTANCE 121 
XIV "TOUCHING THE MATTER OF THOSE SHIPS" 135 
XV IN A SLEEPING-CAR 144 
XVI TRICKS OF THE TRADE 155 
XVII ON A CAPE OF SPAIN 163 
XVIII THE USES OF SCIENCE 173 
XIX UNDER GREY SKIES AGAIN 183 
XX LADY SPLAY'S PREOCCUPATIONS 193 
XXI THE MAGNOLIA FLOWERS 208 
XXII JENNY PRASK 219 
XXIII PLANS FOR THE EVENING 227 
XXIV JENNY PRASK IS INTERESTED 235 
XXV IN A LIBRARY 238 
XXVI A FATAL KINDNESS 248 
XXVII THE RANK AND FILE 257 
XXVIII THE LONG SLEEP 263 
XXIX JENNY PUTS UP HER FIGHT 273 
XXX A REVOLUTION IN SIR CHICHESTER 287 
XXXI JENNY AND MILLIE SPLAY 298 
XXXII "BUT STILL A RUBY KINDLES IN THE VINE" 306
THE SUMMONS 
CHAPTER I 
THE OLYMPIC GAMES 
"Luttrell! Luttrell!" 
Sir Charles Hardiman stood in the corridor of his steam yacht and 
bawled the name through a closed door. But no answer was returned 
from the other side of the door. He turned the handle and went in. The 
night was falling, but the cabin windows looked towards the north and 
the room was full of light and of a low and pleasant music. For the tide 
tinkled and chattered against the ship's planks and, in the gardens of the 
town across the harbour, bands were playing. The town was Stockholm 
in the year nineteen hundred and twelve, and on this afternoon, the 
Olympic games, that unfortunate effort to promote goodwill amongst 
the nations, which did little but increase rancours and disclose hatreds, 
had ended, never, it is to be hoped, to be resumed. 
"Luttrell," cried Hardiman again, but this time with perplexity in his 
voice. For Luttrell was there in the cabin in front of him, but sunk in so 
deep a contemplation of memories and prospects that the cabin might 
just as well have been empty. Sir Charles Hardiman touched him on the 
shoulder. 
"Wake up, old man!" 
"That's what I am doing--waking up," said Luttrell, turning without any 
start. He was seated in front of the writing-desk, a young man, as the 
world went before the war, a few months short of twenty-eight. 
"The launch is waiting and everybody's on deck," continued Hardiman. 
"We shall lose our table at Hasselbacken if we don't get off." 
Then he caught sight of a telegram lying upon the writing-table.
"Oh!" and the impatience died out of his voice. "Is anything the 
matter?" 
Luttrell pushed the telegram towards his host. 
"Read it! I have got to make up my mind--and now--before we start." 
Hardiman read the telegram. It was addressed to Captain Harry Luttrell, 
Yacht The Dragonfly, Stockholm, and it was sent from Cairo by the 
Adjutant-General of the Egyptian Army. 
"_I can make room for you, but you must apply immediately to be 
transferred._" 
Hardiman sat down in a chair by the side of the table against the wall, 
with his eyes on Luttrell's face. He was a big, softish, overfed man of 
forty-five, and the moment he began to relax from the upright position, 
his body went with a run; he collapsed rather than sat. The little veins 
were beginning to show like tiny scarlet threads across his nose and on 
the fullness of his cheeks; his face was the colour of wine; and the 
pupils of his pale eyes were ringed with so pronounced an arcus senilis 
that they commanded the attention like a disfigurement. But the eyes 
were shrewd and kindly enough as they dwelt upon the troubled face of 
his guest. 
"You have not    
    
		
	
	
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