This description--he quite jumped at it--had a sound that gratified his mental ear, so that of a sudden he had already adopted it. Pagan--yes, that was, wasn"t it? what Chad WOULD logically be. It was what he must be. It was what he was. The idea was a clue and, instead of darkening the prospect, projected a certain clearness. Strether made out in this quick ray that a Pagan was perhaps, at the pa.s.s they had come to, the thing most wanted at Woollett. They"d be able to do with one--a good one; he"d find an opening--yes; and Strether"s imagination even now prefigured and accompanied the first appearance there of the rousing personage. He had only the slight discomfort of feeling, as the young man turned away from the lamp, that his thought had in the momentary silence possibly been guessed. "Well, I"ve no doubt," said Chad, "you"ve come near enough. The details, as you say, don"t matter.
It HAS been generally the case that I"ve let myself go. But I"m coming round--I"m not so bad now." With which they walked on again to Strether"s hotel.
"Do you mean," the latter asked as they approached the door, "that there isn"t any woman with you now?"
"But pray what has that to do with it?"
"Why it"s the whole question."
"Of my going home?" Chad was clearly surprised. "Oh not much! Do you think that when I want to go any one will have any power--"
"To keep you"--Strether took him straight up--"from carrying out your wish? Well, our idea has been that somebody has. .h.i.therto--or a good many persons perhaps--kept you pretty well from "wanting." That"s what--if you"re in anybody"s hands--may again happen. You don"t answer my question"--he kept it up; "but if you aren"t in anybody"s hands so much the better. There"s nothing then but what makes for your going."
Chad turned this over. "I don"t answer your question?" He spoke quite without resenting it. "Well, such questions have always a rather exaggerated side. One doesn"t know quite what you mean by being in women"s "hands." It"s all so vague. One is when one isn"t. One isn"t when one is. And then one can"t quite give people away." He seemed kindly to explain. "I"ve NEVER got stuck--so very hard; and, as against anything at any time really better, I don"t think I"ve ever been afraid." There was something in it that held Strether to wonder, and this gave him time to go on. He broke out as with a more helpful thought. "Don"t you know how I like Paris itself?"
The upshot was indeed to make our friend marvel. "Oh if THAT"S all that"s the matter with you--!" It was HE who almost showed resentment.
Chad"s smile of a truth more than met it. "But isn"t that enough?"
Strether hesitated, but it came out. "Not enough for your mother!"
Spoken, however, it sounded a trifle odd--the effect of which was that Chad broke into a laugh. Strether, at this, succ.u.mbed as well, though with extreme brevity. "Permit us to have still our theory. But if you ARE so free and so strong you"re inexcusable. I"ll write in the morning," he added with decision. "I"ll say I"ve got you."
This appeared to open for Chad a new interest. "How often do you write?"
"Oh perpetually."
"And at great length?"
Strether had become a little impatient. "I hope it"s not found too great."
"Oh I"m sure not. And you hear as often?"
Again Strether paused. "As often as I deserve."
"Mother writes," said Chad, "a lovely letter."
Strether, before the closed porte-cochere, fixed him a moment. "It"s more, my boy, than YOU do! But our suppositions don"t matter," he added, "if you"re actually not entangled."
Chad"s pride seemed none the less a little touched. "I never WAS that--let me insist. I always had my own way." With which he pursued: "And I have it at present."
"Then what are you here for? What has kept you," Strether asked, "if you HAVE been able to leave?"
It made Chad, after a stare, throw himself back. "Do you think one"s kept only by women?" His surprise and his verbal emphasis rang out so clear in the still street that Strether winced till he remembered the safety of their English speech. "Is that," the young man demanded, "what they think at Woollett?" At the good faith in the question Strether had changed colour, feeling that, as he would have said, he had put his foot in it. He had appeared stupidly to misrepresent what they thought at Woollett; but before he had time to rectify Chad again was upon him. "I must say then you show a low mind!"
It so fell in, unhappily for Strether, with that reflexion of his own prompted in him by the pleasant air of the Boulevard Malesherbes, that its disconcerting force was rather unfairly great. It was a dig that, administered by himself--and administered even to poor Mrs.
Newsome--was no more than salutary; but administered by Chad--and quite logically--it came nearer drawing blood. They HADn"t a low mind--nor any approach to one; yet incontestably they had worked, and with a certain smugness, on a basis that might be turned against them. Chad had at any rate pulled his visitor up; he had even pulled up his admirable mother; he had absolutely, by a turn of the wrist and a jerk of the far-flung noose, pulled up, in a bunch, Woollett browsing in its pride. There was no doubt Woollett HAD insisted on his coa.r.s.eness; and what he at present stood there for in the sleeping street was, by his manner of striking the other note, to make of such insistence a preoccupation compromising to the insisters. It was exactly as if they had imputed to him a vulgarity that he had by a mere gesture caused to fall from him. The devil of the case was that Strether felt it, by the same stroke, as falling straight upon himself. He had been wondering a minute ago if the boy weren"t a Pagan, and he found himself wondering now if he weren"t by chance a gentleman. It didn"t in the least, on the spot, spring up helpfully for him that a person couldn"t at the same time be both. There was nothing at this moment in the air to challenge the combination; there was everything to give it on the contrary something of a flourish. It struck Strether into the bargain as doing something to meet the most difficult of the questions; though perhaps indeed only by subst.i.tuting another. Wouldn"t it be precisely by having learned to be a gentleman that he had mastered the consequent trick of looking so well that one could scarce speak to him straight?
But what in the world was the clue to such a prime producing cause?
There were too many clues then that Strether still lacked, and these clues to clues were among them. What it accordingly amounted to for him was that he had to take full in the face a fresh attribution of ignorance. He had grown used by this time to reminders, especially from his own lips, of what he didn"t know; but he had borne them because in the first place they were private and because in the second they practically conveyed a tribute. He didn"t know what was bad, and--as others didn"t know how little he knew it--he could put up with his state. But if he didn"t know, in so important a particular, what was good, Chad at least was now aware he didn"t; and that, for some reason, affected our friend as curiously public. It was in fact an exposed condition that the young man left him in long enough for him to feel its chill--till he saw fit, in a word, generously again to cover him. This last was in truth what Chad quite gracefully did. But he did it as with a simple thought that met the whole of the case. "Oh I"m all right!" It was what Strether had rather bewilderedly to go to bed on.
II
It really looked true moreover from the way Chad was to behave after this. He was full of attentions to his mother"s amba.s.sador; in spite of which, all the while, the latter"s other relations rather remarkably contrived to a.s.sert themselves. Strether"s sittings pen in hand with Mrs. Newsome up in his own room were broken, yet they were richer; and they were more than ever interspersed with the hours in which he reported himself, in a different fashion, but with scarce less earnestness and fulness, to Maria Gostrey. Now that, as he would have expressed it, he had really something to talk about he found himself, in respect to any oddity that might reside for him in the double connexion, at once more aware and more indifferent. He had been fine to Mrs. Newsome about his useful friend, but it had begun to haunt his imagination that Chad, taking up again for her benefit a pen too long disused, might possibly be finer. It wouldn"t at all do, he saw, that anything should come up for him at Chad"s hand but what specifically was to have come; the greatest divergence from which would be precisely the element of any lubrication of their intercourse by levity It was accordingly to forestall such an accident that he frankly put before the young man the several facts, just as they had occurred, of his funny alliance. He spoke of these facts, pleasantly and obligingly, as "the whole story," and felt that he might qualify the alliance as funny if he remained sufficiently grave about it. He flattered himself that he even exaggerated the wild freedom of his original encounter with the wonderful lady; he was scrupulously definite about the absurd conditions in which they had made acquaintance--their having picked each other up almost in the street; and he had (finest inspiration of all!) a conception of carrying the war into the enemy"s country by showing surprise at the enemy"s ignorance.
He had always had a notion that this last was the grand style of fighting; the greater therefore the reason for it, as he couldn"t remember that he had ever before fought in the grand style. Every one, according to this, knew Miss Gostrey: how came it Chad didn"t know her? The difficulty, the impossibility, was really to escape it; Strether put on him, by what he took for granted, the burden of proof of the contrary. This tone was so far successful as that Chad quite appeared to recognise her as a person whose fame had reached him, but against his acquaintance with whom much mischance had worked. He made the point at the same time that his social relations, such as they could be called, were perhaps not to the extent Strether supposed with the rising flood of their compatriots. He hinted at his having more and more given way to a different principle of selection; the moral of which seemed to be that he went about little in the "colony." For the moment certainly he had quite another interest. It was deep, what he understood, and Strether, for himself, could only so observe it. He couldn"t see as yet how deep. Might he not all too soon! For there was really too much of their question that Chad had already committed himself to liking. He liked, to begin with, his prospective stepfather; which was distinctly what had not been on the cards. His hating him was the untowardness for which Strether had been best prepared; he hadn"t expected the boy"s actual form to give him more to do than his imputed. It gave him more through suggesting that he must somehow make up to himself for not being sure he was sufficiently disagreeable. That had really been present to him as his only way to be sure he was sufficiently thorough. The point was that if Chad"s tolerance of his thoroughness were insincere, were but the best of devices for gaining time, it none the less did treat everything as tacitly concluded.
That seemed at the end of ten days the upshot of the abundant, the recurrent talk through which Strether poured into him all it concerned him to know, put him in full possession of facts and figures. Never cutting these colloquies short by a minute, Chad behaved, looked and spoke as if he were rather heavily, perhaps even a trifle gloomily, but none the less fundamentally and comfortably free. He made no crude profession of eagerness to yield, but he asked the most intelligent questions, probed, at moments, abruptly, even deeper than his friend"s layer of information, justified by these touches the native estimate of his latent stuff, and had in every way the air of trying to live, reflectively, into the square bright picture. He walked up and down in front of this production, sociably took Strether"s arm at the points at which he stopped, surveyed it repeatedly from the right and from the left, inclined a critical head to either quarter, and, while he puffed a still more critical cigarette, animadverted to his companion on this pa.s.sage and that. Strether sought relief--there were hours when he required it--in repeating himself; it was in truth not to be blinked that Chad had a way. The main question as yet was of what it was a way TO. It made vulgar questions no more easy; but that was unimportant when all questions save those of his own asking had dropped. That he was free was answer enough, and it wasn"t quite ridiculous that this freedom should end by presenting itself as what was difficult to move.
His changed state, his lovely home, his beautiful things, his easy talk, his very appet.i.te for Strether, insatiable and, when all was said, flattering--what were such marked matters all but the notes of his freedom? He had the effect of making a sacrifice of it just in these handsome forms to his visitor; which was mainly the reason the visitor was privately, for the time, a little out of countenance.
Strether was at this period again and again thrown back on a felt need to remodel somehow his plan. He fairly caught himself shooting rueful glances, shy looks of pursuit, toward the embodied influence, the definite adversary, who had by a stroke of her own failed him and on a fond theory of whose palpable presence he had, under Mrs. Newsome"s inspiration, altogether proceeded. He had once or twice, in secret, literally expressed the irritated wish that SHE would come out and find her.
He couldn"t quite yet force it upon Woollett that such a career, such a perverted young life, showed after all a certain plausible side, DID in the case before them flaunt something like an impunity for the social man; but he could at least treat himself to the statement that would prepare him for the sharpest echo. This echo--as distinct over there in the dry thin air as some shrill "heading" above a column of print--seemed to reach him even as he wrote. "He says there"s no woman," he could hear Mrs. Newsome report, in capitals almost of newspaper size, to Mrs. Poc.o.c.k; and he could focus in Mrs. Poc.o.c.k the response of the reader of the journal. He could see in the younger lady"s face the earnestness of her attention and catch the full scepticism of her but slightly delayed "What is there then?" Just so he could again as little miss the mother"s clear decision: "There"s plenty of disposition, no doubt, to pretend there isn"t." Strether had, after posting his letter, the whole scene out; and it was a scene during which, coming and going, as befell, he kept his eye not least upon the daughter. He had his fine sense of the conviction Mrs. Poc.o.c.k would take occasion to reaffirm--a conviction bearing, as he had from the first deeply divined it to bear, on Mr. Strether"s essential inapt.i.tude. She had looked him in his conscious eyes even before he sailed, and that she didn"t believe HE would find the woman had been written in her book. Hadn"t she at the best but a scant faith in his ability to find women? It wasn"t even as if he had found her mother--so much more, to her discrimination, had her mother performed the finding. Her mother had, in a case her private judgement of which remained educative of Mrs. Poc.o.c.k"s critical sense, found the man. The man owed his unchallenged state, in general, to the fact that Mrs.
Newsome"s discoveries were accepted at Woollett; but he knew in his bones, our friend did, how almost irresistibly Mrs. Poc.o.c.k would now be moved to show what she thought of his own. Give HER a free hand, would be the moral, and the woman would soon be found.
His impression of Miss Gostrey after her introduction to Chad was meanwhile an impression of a person almost unnaturally on her guard. He struck himself as at first unable to extract from her what he wished; though indeed OF what he wished at this special juncture he would doubtless have contrived to make but a crude statement. It sifted and settled nothing to put to her, tout betement, as she often said, "Do you like him, eh?"--thanks to his feeling it actually the least of his needs to heap up the evidence in the young man"s favour. He repeatedly knocked at her door to let her have it afresh that Chad"s case--whatever else of minor interest it might yield--was first and foremost a miracle almost monstrous. It was the alteration of the entire man, and was so signal an instance that nothing else, for the intelligent observer, could--COULD it?--signify. "It"s a plot," he declared--"there"s more in it than meets the eye." He gave the rein to his fancy. "It"s a plant!"
His fancy seemed to please her. "Whose then?"
"Well, the party responsible is, I suppose, the fate that waits for one, the dark doom that rides. What I mean is that with such elements one can"t count. I"ve but my poor individual, my modest human means.
It isn"t playing the game to turn on the uncanny. All one"s energy goes to facing it, to tracking it. One wants, confound it, don"t you see?" he confessed with a queer face--"one wants to enjoy anything so rare. Call it then life"--he puzzled it out--"call it poor dear old life simply that springs the surprise. Nothing alters the fact that the surprise is paralysing, or at any rate engrossing--all, practically, hang it, that one sees, that one CAN see."
Her silences were never barren, nor even dull. "Is that what you"ve written home?"
He tossed it off. "Oh dear, yes!"
She had another pause while, across her carpets, he had another walk.
"If you don"t look out you"ll have them straight over."
"Oh but I"ve said he"ll go back."
"And WILL he?" Miss Gostrey asked.
The special tone of it made him, pulling up, look at her long. "What"s that but just the question I"ve spent treasures of patience and ingenuity in giving you, by the sight of him--after everything had led up--every facility to answer? What is it but just the thing I came here to-day to get out of you? Will he?"
"No--he won"t," she said at last. "He"s not free."
The air of it held him. "Then you"ve all the while known--?"
"I"ve known nothing but what I"ve seen; and I wonder," she declared with some impatience, "that you didn"t see as much. It was enough to be with him there--"
"In the box? Yes," he rather blankly urged.
"Well--to feel sure."
"Sure of what?"
She got up from her chair, at this, with a nearer approach than she had ever yet shown to dismay at his dimness. She even, fairly pausing for it, spoke with a shade of pity. "Guess!"
It was a shade, fairly, that brought a flush into his face; so that for a moment, as they waited together, their difference was between them.