The Secret Adversary
12. A Friend In Need
FRIDAY and Saturday passed uneventfully. Tuppence had received a brief answer to her
appeal from Mr. Carter. In it he pointed out that the Young Adventurers had undertaken
the work at their own risk, and had been fully warned of the dangers. If anything had
happened to Tommy he regretted it deeply, but he could do nothing.
This was cold comfort. Somehow, without Tommy, all the savour went out of the
adventure, and, for the first time, Tuppence felt doubtful of success. While they had been
together she had never questioned it for a minute. Although she was accustomed to take
the lead, and to pride herself on her quick-wittedness, in reality she had relied upon
Tommy more than she realized at the time. There was something so eminently sober and
clear-headed about him, his common sense and soundness of vision were so unvarying,
that without him Tuppence felt much like a rudderless ship. It was curious that Julius,
who was undoubtedly much cleverer than Tommy, did not give her the same feeling of
support. She had accused Tommy of being a pessimist, and it is certain that he always
saw the disadvantages and difficulties which she herself was optimistically given to
overlooking, but nevertheless she had really relied a good deal on his judgment. He might
be slow, but he was very sure.
It seemed to the girl that, for the first time, she realized the sinister character of the
mission they had undertaken so lightheartedly. It had begun like a page of romance. Now,
shorn of its glamour, it seemed to be turning to grim reality. Tommy--that was all that
mattered. Many times in the day Tuppence blinked the tears out of her eyes resolutely.
"Little fool," she would apostrophize herself, "don't snivel. Of course you're fond of him.
You've known him all your life. But there's no need to be sentimental about it."
In the meantime, nothing more was seen of Boris. He did not come to the flat, and Julius
and the car waited in vain. Tuppence gave herself over to new meditations. Whilst
admitting the truth of Julius's objections, she had nevertheless not entirely relinquished
the idea of appealing to Sir James Peel Edgerton. Indeed, she had gone so far as to look
up his address in the Red Book. Had he meant to warn her that day? If so, why? Surely
she was at least entitled to demand an explanation. He had looked at her so kindly.
Perhaps he might tell them something concerning Mrs. Vandemeyer which might lead to
a clue to Tommy's whereabouts.
Anyway, Tuppence decided, with her usual shake of the shoulders, it was worth trying,
and try it she would. Sunday was her afternoon out. She would meet Julius, persuade him
to her point of view, and they would beard the lion in his den.
When the day arrived Julius needed a considerable amount of persuading, but Tuppence
held firm. "It can do no harm," was what she always came back to. In the end Julius gave
in, and they proceeded in the car to Carlton House Terrace.