Mr. Hungerton, Gladys’s father, was probably the most tactless man I had ever met.
He was a cheerful, untidy little man who reminded me of a badly groomed cockatoo. He meant well enough, but he was completely absorbed in himself.
If anything could have made me give up my feelings for Gladys, it would have been the thought of having him as my father-in-law.
I was sure he honestly believed that I visited the Chestnuts three times a week because I enjoyed his company—and, above all, because I wanted to listen to his opinions on bimetallism.
He considered himself an expert on the subject.
That evening, I had to listen to him talk for more than an hour about bad money driving out good money, the value of silver, the falling value of the rupee, and the proper standards for international exchange.
Then he suddenly leaned forward.
“Suppose every debt in the world had to be paid immediately,” he said with surprising excitement. “What do you think would happen under our present financial system?”
I gave him what seemed to me the obvious answer.
“I’d be ruined.”
He jumped out of his chair.
“Your constant joking makes it impossible to discuss any serious subject with you!”
With that, he hurried out of the room to get ready for a Masonic meeting.
At last, Gladys and I were alone.
The moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived.
All evening I had felt like a soldier waiting for the order to charge into a battle he might not survive. One moment I imagined myself winning her heart; the next, I was terrified she would reject me.
Gladys sat quietly beside the window, her beautiful profile outlined against the red curtain.
She was incredibly beautiful.
And yet there had always been something distant about her.
We were good friends—very good friends, in fact. But our relationship had never gone beyond the sort of easy friendship I might have had with one of my fellow reporters at the Gazette.
We could talk openly about anything.
But there was no romantic tension between us.
I had always believed that when a woman truly cares for a man, she becomes a little shy around him. There is hesitation, uncertainty, and even a little fear.
Gladys had none of that with me.
She was completely comfortable in my presence.
Still, I knew she was a deeply feminine woman. Some people thought she was cold, but I could never understand that judgment.
Her warm, slightly exotic complexion, black hair, large dark eyes, and beautiful lips suggested a passion that she simply never showed me.
I had spent months wondering how to bring that hidden side of her to the surface.
Tonight, I decided, I would finally take the risk.
She could reject me, but that would be better than spending the rest of my life wondering what might have happened.
I was just about to speak when she turned her dark eyes toward me.
She smiled and shook her head.
“I have a feeling you’re going to propose to me, Ned.”
She sighed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t. Things are so much nicer between us as they are.”
I moved my chair a little closer.
“How did you know I was going to propose?”
She laughed.
“Don’t women always know?”
“Do you really think a woman can ever be caught completely by surprise?”
She looked at me seriously.
“But, Ned, we’ve had such a wonderful friendship. Why ruin it?”
“Don’t you think there’s something special about a man and a woman being able to talk as openly as we do?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“I can talk face-to-face with the stationmaster.”
I had no idea why I mentioned the stationmaster, but somehow the ridiculous comparison made us both laugh.
Then I became serious again.
“Friendship isn’t enough for me.”
“I want to hold you in my arms. I want you to rest your head against my chest.”
I hesitated.
“I want…”
Gladys suddenly stood up when she realized what I was about to do.
“You’ve ruined everything, Ned.”
Her voice was almost sad.
“Everything was so natural and pleasant until you started talking like this.”
“Why can’t you control yourself?”
“I didn’t invent these feelings,” I protested.
“It’s nature. It’s love.”
“Perhaps it would be different if we both felt the same way.”
She looked away.
“But I don’t.”
“You must.”
I couldn’t help myself.
“How could you not? Look at you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and full of life.”
“You were made to love someone.”
“You have to fall in love eventually.”
“You can’t make me fall in love,” she said quietly.
“But why can’t you love me?”
“Is it my appearance?”
Her expression softened.
She reached out and gently pushed my head back.
Then she looked down at me with a thoughtful smile.
“No, it’s not your appearance.”
“You’re not naturally conceited, so I can tell you that honestly.”
“The problem is deeper than that.”
“My character?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“What can I do to change it?”
“Sit down and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
She looked at me with a strange mixture of distrust and amusement.
For some reason, that little bit of distance made me feel better than her usual complete trust.
I suppose it sounds rather primitive when I put it into words.
Still, she sat down.
“All right,” I said.
“Tell me what’s wrong with me.”
She looked directly at me.
“I’m in love with someone else.”
I jumped to my feet.
“What?”
She laughed when she saw my face.
“It’s not a real person.”
“It’s an ideal.”
“I’ve never actually met the kind of man I want.”
“Then tell me about him.”
“What does he look like?”
“Oh, he might look a lot like you.”
That pleased me immediately.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Now tell me what he does that I don’t.”
“I’ll change.”
“Do you want me to stop drinking? Become a vegetarian? Learn to fly a balloon? Study philosophy?”
“I’ll become anything you want, Gladys.”
She laughed.
“You really are willing to change yourself for me.”
“Well, tell me what kind of man you want.”
She thought for a moment.
“First, I don’t think my ideal man would talk like that.”
“He would be stronger and more serious.”
“He wouldn’t be so eager to change himself just because a foolish girl asked him to.”
“Most of all, he would be a man who could act.”
“A man who could face death without fear.”
“A man who had done remarkable things and experienced things most people could never imagine.”
She became more animated as she spoke.
“It’s not really the man himself that I would love.”
“It’s what he has achieved.”
“Think of Richard Burton.”
“When I read his wife’s account of his life, I understood why she loved him.”
“Or Lady Stanley.”
“Did you ever read the final chapter of the book she wrote about her husband?”
“Those are the kind of men a woman could truly admire.”
“And if she inspired such a man to achieve great things, she would become more honored, not less.”
Gladys looked so beautiful while talking about her ideal man that I almost lost my ability to argue.
But I forced myself to stay calm.
“We can’t all be Richard Burtons or Stanleys.”
“Besides, ordinary men don’t get opportunities like that.”
“At least, I never have.”
“If I ever got such an opportunity, though, I’d take it.”
Gladys shook her head.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Opportunities are everywhere.”
“The kind of man I’m talking about doesn’t sit around waiting for an opportunity.”
“He creates one.”
“Nothing can hold him back.”
“I’ve never met such a man, but somehow I feel as if I know exactly what he would be like.”
“There are heroic things happening all around us.”
“They’re waiting for someone brave enough to do them.”
“Men should do those things.”
“And women should save their love for the men who are brave enough to try.”
“Look at that young Frenchman who went up in a balloon last week.”
“There was a terrible wind, but he had already announced that he would make the flight, so he refused to cancel it.”
“The wind carried him fifteen hundred miles in only twenty-four hours.”
“He eventually landed in the middle of Russia.”
“That’s the kind of man I mean.”
“Imagine the woman he loved.”
“Think how proud she must have been—and how many other women must have envied her.”
“That’s what I want.”
“I want other women to envy me because of the man I married.”
“I’d do something like that just to make you happy.”
She immediately shook her head.
“But that’s not what I mean.”
“You shouldn’t do something heroic simply because you want to impress me.”
“You should do it because that’s who you are.”
“Because you can’t stop yourself.”
“Because something inside you demands that you do something great.”
She paused.
“When you reported on the Wigan coal-mine explosion last month, couldn’t you have gone down into the mine and helped the trapped workers, even though the air was full of poisonous gas?”
“I did.”
Her eyes widened.
“You did?”
“You never told me.”
“There wasn’t anything worth mentioning.”
She looked at me with new interest.
“That was brave.”
“I had no choice.”
“If you want to write a good newspaper story, you have to be where the action is.”
She smiled.
“What a practical reason.”
“You’ve completely removed the romance from it.”
“But still…”
“I’m glad you went down there.”
She reached out and took my hand.
There was such warmth and dignity in the gesture that I could only bend down and kiss it.
“Perhaps I’m just a foolish woman with a young girl’s romantic ideas,” she said.
“But this feeling is real to me.”
“It’s part of who I am.”
“If I ever marry, I want to marry a famous man.”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
I felt a sudden rush of confidence.
“Women like you are exactly what make men want to become better.”
“Give me the opportunity and I’ll take it.”
“You said it yourself. Men shouldn’t sit around waiting for opportunities.”
“We should make them.”
“Look at Clive.”
“He started as an ordinary clerk, and he went on to conquer India.”
I stood up, filled with determination.
“By George! I’ll make something of myself yet.”
Gladys laughed at my sudden burst of enthusiasm.
“Why not?”
“You have everything a young man could need.”
“You’re young, healthy, strong, educated, and energetic.”
“I was sorry that you proposed to me.”
“But now I’m glad you did.”
“I’m glad because it has awakened something in you.”
“And if I do…”
Her hand gently covered my mouth.
“Not another word, Sir.”
“You should have been at the office half an hour ago for your evening shift.”
“I simply didn’t have the heart to remind you.”
She smiled.
“Perhaps one day, after you’ve made something of yourself, we can talk about this again.”
And that was how I left the house that foggy November evening.
I chased after the Camberwell tram with my heart burning with excitement.
For the first time in my life, I was determined to prove myself.
I had to find something worth doing.
Something worthy of Gladys.
I had no idea then what that “something” would be.
Nor could I possibly have imagined the strange events that would eventually lead me to it.
Looking back, this opening chapter might seem to have little connection with the story that follows.
But without that conversation, there would have been no story at all.
A man does not leave the familiar life behind unless he begins to believe that something greater is waiting for him.
Once he starts looking for adventure, for danger, and for the chance to prove himself, he may suddenly find himself stepping into a world he never knew existed.
That was exactly what happened to me.
That night, I returned to the offices of the Daily Gazette.
I was still only a very small and unimportant member of the newspaper staff.
But I had made up my mind.
If possible, I would find something worth doing before the night was over.
I wanted a challenge worthy of the woman I loved.
Some people might ask whether it was selfish or cruel for Gladys to make me feel that I had to risk my life simply to become worthy of her.
Perhaps a man of middle age might think that way.
But I was only twenty-three.
I was young, deeply in love, and filled with the burning desire to prove myself.
At that age, I never stopped to question where that desire might lead me.