Greenmantle - John Buchan

abominating the English and burning to strike a blow for you. But you haven't
given me much cause to love you. For the last two days I've had nothing from
you but suspicion and insult. The only decent man I've met is Herr Gaudian. It's
because I believe that there are many in Germany like him that I'm prepared to
go on with this business and do the best I can. But, by God, I wouldn't raise my
little finger for your sake.'
He looked at me very steadily for a minute. 'That sounds like honesty,' he said
at last in a civil voice. 'You had better come down and get your coffee.'
I was safe for the moment but in very low spirits. What on earth would
happen to poor old Peter? I could do nothing even if I wanted, and, besides, my
first duty was to my mission. I had made this very clear to him at Lisbon and he
had agreed, but all the same it was a beastly reflection. Here was that ancient
worthy left to the tender mercies of the people he most detested on earth. My
only comfort was that they couldn't do very much with him. If they sent him to
the front, which was the worst they could do, he would escape, for I would have
backed him to get through any mortal lines. It wasn't much fun for me either.
Only when I was to be deprived of it did I realize how much his company had
meant to me. I was absolutely alone now, and I didn't like it. I seemed to have
about as much chance of joining Blenkiron and Sandy as of flying to the moon.
After breakfast I was told to get ready. When I asked where I was going
Stumm advised me to mind my own business, but I remembered that last night
he had talked of taking me home with him and giving me my orders. I wondered
where his home was.
Gaudian patted me on the back when we started and wrung my hand. He was
a capital good fellow, and it made me feel sick to think that I was humbugging
him. We got into the same big grey car, with Stumm's servant sitting beside the
chauffeur. It was a morning of hard frost, the bare fields were white with rime,
and the fir-trees powdered like a wedding-cake. We took a different road from
the night before, and after a run of half a dozen miles came to a little town with a
big railway station. It was a junction on some main line, and after five minutes'
waiting we found our train. Once again we were alone in the carriage. Stumm
must have had some colossal graft, for the train was crowded.
I had another three hours of complete boredom. I dared not smoke, and could
do nothing but stare out of the window. We soon got into hilly country, where a