Black August (44 page)

‘Nothing can be useless which gives mental joy, however brief,' declared Kenyon firmly.

‘All right then. I grant your request since it is in accordance with the established customs of humanity. But I fear you must be content with civil marriage. There can be no priest.'

‘That doesn't matter; where can it be done?'

‘Here,' replied the President quietly, ‘and now. Under the New Order a simple declaration made before this court will be binding upon you both. Is the woman willing?'

This new development threw Ann into a fresh torment of indecision. How could she refuse Kenyon when she loved him so much, she would have said yes gladly with all her heart if they had been free or both about to die. If she refused he would think her utterly heartless; for how could she explain. Yet how could she marry him and commit adultery that very night?

With growing amazement he saw her hesitation and watched her lowered lids. Then slowly she raised large dark tear-dimmed eyes. ‘I—I can't, Kenyon,' she murmured. ‘I'd like to, dear, but—but Brisket's here, so I've promised—I've promised, he's going—'

Her voice was drowned by the rattle of the rifles as the soldiers came to attention on Brisket's entry. Stocky and powerful he strode to the centre of the Court. ‘The execution of these people's ter be postponed,' he declared loudly.

‘What's that?' The President stiffened in his chair. ‘By what authority?'

‘By mine.'

‘But …'

‘I'm a member of the Committee, ain't I?' Brisket thrust his chin out aggressively at the magistrate.

‘Your interference with the course of justice is intolerable,' the bearded fanatic cried angrily.

‘I got me own way o' doin' things—see, an' you keep a civil tongue in yer ‘ead or there'll be trouble.' With a threatening glare Brisket motioned to the guard: ‘Remove the prisoners. Come on, big eyes; you come wi' me.'

In a second Kenyon had sized up the situation. Ann had made a bargain with this brute to save their lives. With a flaming face he leapt from the dock, and as the soldier stretched out a hand to take Ann by the arm, hit him a tremendous blow beneath the chin.

Brisket, taken off his guard, went crashing to the ground. Kenyon, his left arm wrenched from the sling, dived at him as he fell and caught him with both hands by the throat. The soldiers flung themselves upon him, but Rudd and Silas had both joined in the scuffle; with his immense strength the latter gripped two guards by their collars and cracked their heads violently together.

One soldier loosed off his rifle and there was a splintering of glass. The magistrates were shouting from the bench. The doors burst open, more soldiers and an excited crowd rushed in. For a few moments a wild tumult reigned in the well of the court, but when at last order was restored, and Kenyon dragged, panting, back into the dock, Brisket remained a crumpled heap upon the floor. His head had cracked like an egg in his fall against the solid dais.

The crowd stood there for a moment gaping at the body from which life had passed so suddenly, but the soldier who had fired the rifle was exclaiming, ‘One of 'em's got away; after him, quick!' and dashed out of the room. He alone had seen Gregory leap to the tall window on the first sign of trouble, and dive through it to the lane which ran along the side of the Town Hall.

A detachment was sent in pursuit of the flying Gregory, Brisket's body removed, the court cleared, and then the President looked sternly at the figures in the dock. ‘If there had ever been any doubt in your case, this murderous attack upon a loyal officer of the New Order would serve to condemn you a hundred times.'

The swine! he asked for it,' Kenyon panted.

The Chief of the Tribunal smiled a little grimly. ‘Perhaps—such men are necessary to restore order, but their morals do no honour to our Cause, and his interference for some private reason was unwarranted.'

Then let's get back to where we left off,' said Kenyon promptly.

‘You still ask for this marriage?'

‘Yes, I am no less condemned than I was before.'

Ann felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Even if they were all to die she had escaped that unspeakable degradation. Willingly she gave her hand to Kenyon and in a few short sentences the ceremony was performed.

Silas bent over to Veronica, as the others signed on the first page of a new ledger. ‘You know,' he said, ‘it would make me very happy too.'

‘What's the use, darling?' Veronica sighed.

‘Well, tell me,' he pressed her. ‘Just say we'd met in ordinary times—yould you—would you have thought of becoming my wife?'

Slowly she turned and faced him. ‘Yes, Silas, I would have married you. You're the only man I've ever met who has all the interests I really care about, who is kind to the verge of stupidity, yet strong enough to prevent me making a fool of myself.'

‘Then let's, Veronica; it's great to know you really care that much, and it may be stupid sentimentality, but I'd like to have you Mrs. Gonderport Harker for any hours we've got.'

‘Why, darling, if you want me to,' her voice cracked suddenly, and two large tears trickled down her face. She rubbed them away impatiently, and gave a rueful smile. ‘What idiots we are, my dear; but never mind.'

So they, too, were married, and it fell to Rudd to claim another privilege. ‘I've always 'eard,' he stated loudly, ‘that them 'as was due for a 'anging got a good square meal at the lars'.'

‘Waste,' thundered the fat man on the bench, but the President upheld Rudd's submission and ordered an issue of rations to each of them when they had returned to their temporary prison. Then he ordered their removal.

On his way out Rudd paused before the bench and in a low voice again addressed the President: 'Er—you'll excuse me, Guv'nor, but 'ow long 'ave we got, if yer know wot I mean?'

‘About three hours,' was the soft reply. ‘Executions take place at seven o'clock in the morning and the evening.'

‘Coo-er! that ain't long, is it. Couldn't yer make it ter-morrer? It's me birfday, an' it 'ud be a kind o' celebration ter go out on what they calls yer natal day.'

‘No, that is impossible.' The Chief of the Tribunal shook his
head. ‘Other reactionaries are constantly being arrested and your place of confinement will be needed for them.'

‘Orl right, Guv'nor.' Rudd moved to follow the rest but threw a parting shot over his shoulder. ‘I 'ope it keeps fine for yer when they bumps you off; an' they
will,
yer know, sure as me favourite dish is winkles.'

An armed escort piloted them across the square, into the little hotel where Ann had spent a portion of the night, and the morning, then up the stairs to the first floor drawing-room, where they were locked in and at last able to talk freely.

‘Well, we're for it all right,' Silas announced grimly, ‘but you certainly are an extraordinary people. That magistrate managed to give me the impression that he had a real right to deliver judgment on us, he was that serious about it.'

‘Yes, we're orderly enough,' Kenyon agreed, ‘even in a revolution; it's in the blood, I suppose, but that's what makes it so horribly final. They'll take us out of this place on the tick of seven o'clock and shoot us with the same precision as if they were serving a summons on us for not having paid the dog licence.'

‘Kenyon,' said Ann suddenly, ‘we haven't got long—kiss me.'

She was still so overwrought that she could think of nothing but his presence and her escape, the others were shadows moving in the room, and as they turned away she clung to him with pathetic passion.

Twenty minutes later their food arrived. Two potatoes apiece boiled in their jackets, a hunk of coarse light brown bread and an apple each. Rudd came away from the window where he had been staring out into the square. Veronica rose from her new husband's vast knee where she had been endeavouring to keep up a cheerful flow of banter, and Kenyon and Ann ceased to stare at each other stupidly upon the sofa.

They had not tasted food for the best part of twenty-four hours so, despite the fact that they might not live to digest the meal, they set to almost ravenously, while Ann recounted her adventures and they told her of their trip crowded together in one small cabin of the
Shark
.

After they had fed they fell silent, only the monotonous tread of the sentry as he paced up and down outside the door was audible.

‘Silas, is there
no
way that we can get out of this place?' Veronica demanded suddenly.

He looked a little hopelessly around the old-fashioned hotel drawing-room. It was a low-ceilinged room of moderate size overfilled with indifferent furniture. A spindle-legged writing-table stood between the windows, and a geranium plant on a pedestal occupied one corner. Antimacassars of coarse lace draped the arm-chairs and sofa, the wallpaper was a hideous shade of green, and cheap prints of sentimental subjects hung on long wires from the picture-rail. There was one door only, and the sole outward sign that the place had been converted into a prison was a network of barbed wire across the windows. Silas shook his head: ‘I'm afraid not, honey.'

‘If you call me honey I shall scream,' she exclaimed wildly and began to pace nervously up and down the room.

Rudd stood again by the window keeping an anxious, fascinated eye upon the hands of the clock opposite. Kenyon and Ann had returned to the sofa and once more a strained unnatural silence fell upon the room.

‘What's the time?' asked Veronica suddenly breaking the tension.

‘Jus' turned 'arf pars' five, Miss,' reported Rudd.

‘I wonder,' she said slowly, ‘if Gregory got away.'

‘You bet 'e did,' Rudd's belief in his master's capabilities remained unshakable.

‘Yes,' said Kenyon from the sofa a little bitterly, ‘he would be the one to get out in the end; I expect he'll walk to London and turn Kommissar after all.'

‘Well, good luck to him if he does,' Veronica took him up sharply.

‘Oh, rather,' he agreed heartily, ‘and if he did I'll bet his first action would be to secure an order of release for us; the only trouble is that even Gregory couldn't get himself made a Kommissar in the hour and a quarter we have to go.'

‘I wonder what
is
happening in London,' Ann said ruminatively.

Kenyon squeezed her hand. ‘It's much the same as here I expect.'

‘Then there is a chance that things will settle down again.'

‘After a bit perhaps, but first there will be wholesale shootings. It wouldn't be so bad if the chaps like that magistrate
could keep control, the trouble is that the extremists like Brisket always get the upper hand in every revolution after the first month or two, and massacre the moderates. Once that happens it may be years before the country recovers.'

‘The English are very conservative,' Silas put in. ‘It wouldn't surprise me any if there were a counter-revolution.'

No one contradicted him and they sank into silence again, too busy with agitated thoughts of their approaching end to enter into argument.

‘What time is it now?' Veronica asked again after a little in a nervous, high-pitched voice.

‘Few minutes ter six, Miss,' Rudd muttered from his post of observation at the window.

‘God!' Kenyon groaned, forgetful of Ann for the moment. ‘We've got another hour of this.'

‘Try not to think of it, my darling,' she smiled at him. ‘I wish we could know if there is going to be a counter-revolution though.'

Silas heaved his bulk out of the arm-chair. Despite his apparent calmness he was desperately worried for Veronica, yet he could think of no way to engage her mind and quieten her restlessness. ‘I wish a darn sight more that this radio was working,' he remarked, laying his large hand on the switch. ‘If only we could tune in to a band it might cheer us up a little.'

Tick, tick, tick, the instrument responded with its rhythmic note.

‘Good God! it is,' exclaimed Kenyon, bounding to his feet, ‘That's the metronome.'

For a full minute they all stood staring at it in astonished silence, and then a clear resonant voice impinged upon their listening ears, coming to that drab, old-fashioned room out of the vastness of the ether:

‘This is London calling.'

They stood with strained expectant faces, their eyes riveted upon the instrument, while the voice continued slowly and distinctly:

‘I am not a professional announcer, listeners will please overlook any faults of delivery. I will, however, speak as clearly as possible for this message is of vital importance.

‘As you are aware the Broadcasting Service has been suspended for nearly a month and doubtless you will have assumed this to be due to sabotage; actually, the wrecking of all stations throughout the country was deliberate and carried out, under the instructions of the late Government, by the principal executives before abandoning their plant; it being the policy of the Government to prevent facilities for propaganda falling into other hands.

During the first fortnight in August a reign of anarchy swept the whole country. Many deaths are reported from all quarters, and owing to a complete breakdown in the distribution of supplies, the prospect of starvation drove an ordinarily law-abiding people to unheard-of acts of savagery.

Desperate efforts have been made however to cope with the vital questions of feeding the population, and if listeners will faithfully carry out the instructions which I am about to give there will be no further danger to any member of the community from lack of food.

On the breakdown of the late Government only one political body in this country was sufficiently organised to offer any prospect of stability if they were placed in power; I refer to the Communist party. For many years this party has been increasing in numbers, intelligence and strength. They have watched the gradual decline of confidence among the people in the succession of so-called National, Socialist-National, and finally United British Governments, convinced that a time would surely come when the nation would turn to them in some great crisis as the
only body offering a clear-cut break from the old tradition of muddle, compromise and incompetence.