Part 23 (1/2)

Mr. Manley hesitated, thinking; then he said: ”I can't remember at the moment. You see, I was downstairs some little time. I found an evening paper in the dining-room and looked through it there. I might have heard him from there.”

”You can't remember?” said Mr. Flexen in a tone of disappointment.

”Not at the moment,” said Mr. Manley. ”Is it important?”

”Yes; very important. It would probably help me to fix the time of Lord Loudwater's death.”

”I see. A lot may turn on that,” said Mr. Manley thoughtfully.

”Yes. You can see how immensely it helps to have a fact like that fixed,”

said Mr. Flexen.

”Yes: of course,” said Mr. Manley. ”Well, I must try to remember. I daresay I shall, if I keep the fact in my mind gently, and do not try to wrench the recollection out of it. You know how hard it is to remember a thing, if it hasn't caught your attention fairly when it happened.”

”Yes,” said Mr. Flexen. ”But I hope to goodness you'll remember it quickly. It may be of the greatest use to me.”

”Ah, yes; I must,” said Mr. Manley, giving him a queer look.

”I was forgetting,” said Mr. Flexen, understanding the thought behind the queer look. ”You'd hardly believe it, Mr. Carrington, but Mr. Manley told me at the very beginning of this business that he was not going to help in any way to discover the murderer of Lord Loudwater, because he considered that murderer a benefactor of society.”

”But I never heard of such a thing!” cried the lawyer in a tone of astonished disapproval. ”Such a course might be possible in the case of some minor crime, or in a person intimately connected with the criminal in the case of a major crime. But for an outsider to pursue such a course in the case of a murder is unheard of--absolutely unheard of.”

”I daresay it isn't common,” said Mr. Manley in a tone of modest satisfaction. ”But I am modern; I claim the right of private judgment in all matters of morality.”

”Oh, that won't do--that won't do at all!” cried the shocked lawyer.

”There would be hopeless confusion--in fact, if everybody did that, the law might easily become a dead letter--absolutely a dead letter.”

”But there's no fear of everybody doing anything of the kind. The ruck of men have no private judgment to claim the right of. They take whatever's given them in the way of morals by their pastors and masters.

Only exceptional people have ideas of their own to carry out; and there are not enough exceptional people to make much difference,” said Mr.

Manley calmly.

”But, all the same, such principles are subversive of society--absolutely subversive of society,” said Mr. Carrington warmly, and his square, ma.s.sive face was growing redder.

”I daresay,” said Mr. Manley amiably. ”But if any one chooses to have them, and act on them, what are you going to do about it? For example, if I happened to know who had murdered Lord Loudwater and did not choose to tell, how could you make me?”

”If there were many people with such principles about, society would soon find out a way of protecting itself,” said the lawyer, in the accents of one whose tenderest sensibilities are being outraged.

”It would have to have recourse to torture then,” said Mr. Manley cheerfully.

”But let me remind you that it is a crime to be an accessory before, or after, the fact to murder,” said the lawyer in a tone of some triumph.

”Oh, I'm not going as far as that,” said Mr. Manley. ”A man might very well approve of a murder without being willing to further it.”

Mr. Flexen laughed and said: ”I understand Mr. Manley's point of view. Sometimes I have felt inclined to be judge as well as investigator--especially in the East.”

”And you followed your inclination,” said Mr. Manley with amiable certainty.

”Perhaps--perhaps not,” said Mr. Flexen, smiling at him.

”The war has upset everything. I never heard such ideas before the war,”

grumbled the lawyer.