MOON/Yurth ourselves to be embittered by the unfortunate parallels and repetitions of history. As a historian, you are no doubt right, but as a politician you are wrong, you are wrong as a patriot." "I have no ambitions as a patriot," said Henry. "I want only to be a man the world is proud of." "You are young," said the Prime Minister lighting a match for Henry. "Incidentally, The Archbishop of Canterbury has expressed an urgent desire to meet you." "I knew it!" cried Henry. "A Church of England moon!" When he returned home, Henry sat up all night writing a letter. Veronica, as she lay sleepless, heard the febrile stutter of the typewriter and an occasional angry outburst. The cabin trunks still stood half-filled in the bedroom, a measure of how disappointed Henry and Veronica were at not going to Washington and of the uncertainty of their future, of their country's. Henry didn't go to bed that night, but left the house at six that morning to mail his letter. He noticed a detective loitering on the opposite pavement, but ignored him. There was practically no conversation between Henry and Veronica all day, and even the children modified their games. It was as though disaster had struck the family. After lunch, they suffered the surprise visit of a grave Sir Humphrey, accompanied by Oliver De Vouvenay at his most petulant, and a rosy-faced inspector from Scotland Yard called Peddick. "What may I offer you?" asked Henry, investing his question with sarcasm. He seemed incapable of saying anything without sarcasm these days. "Nothing. Nothing at all," replied Sir Humphrey. "Perhaps we could sit down?" said De Vouvenay. "I see nothing to prevent you," said Henry. "Thank you." In silence, De Vouvenay opened his briefcase and produced the letter which Henry had posted that morning. It was open. "What are you doing with that?" demanded Henry. "Perhaps I should take over, sir?" It was Peddick who spoke. "Did you write this letter?" "What business is that of yours?" "I see that it's addressed to Switzerland." "I can explain that. It is addressed to Switzerland because I intended it to arrive in Switzerland." "I gather, sir, that this letter contains information of a highly secret nature." "It contains information which emanated from my brain and which I do not consider secret. And in any case, for how long has it been a practice, in this free country, to intercept private mail?" "We have authority, sir, under the Official Secrets Act." "Could you tell me what you find particularly secret about that letter?" The inspector smiled. "That's hardly my province, sir. It doesn't make much sense to me, but I've been told it's secret from higher up, and I've acted accordingly." "But you've read it?" "Oh, I skimmed through part of it, yes, sir, in the line of duty." Henry broke a vase and shouted a profanity. Sir Humphrey raised a restraining hand. "You must realize, Henry, that you must be in some measure subject to the government. You can't go on being a rebel all your life. What has been accomplished by you is far too important for us all for you to attempt to destroy it by what you imagine to be scientific integrity. Henry, I implore you to regard yourself as the caretaker of a secret, and not to do anything in your moment of imminent triumph which will bring you into "THE AMERICANS ARE OUR ALLIES THAT GOES WITHOUT SAYING. BUT IN A WAY WE DO HAVE A FRIENDLY LITTLE SCORE TO SETTLE, DON'T YOU THINK? 18 "LIFE WILL BECOME CHEAP AGAIN AND SO WILL GLORY." disrepute." "I am not the caretaker of a secret," shouted Henry. "I am the inventor of a public utility!" "You wrote a letter to professor Nussli in Switzerland. Nussli has been to Moscow recently," broke in De Vouvenay smoothly. "So what?" snapped Henry. "I've been to Trinidad. That doesn't mean I sing calypsos all day. What God-awful idiots you all are. Just because a man is inquisitive, just because he wants to find out, you think automatically that he is tarnished by whatever it was he went to investigate." "I didn't insinuate that at all." "Why the hell did you mention it, then? What do people mean when they say the word 'Moscow' out of the blue? How naive do you think I am? I've known Nussli for fourty years in other words, all my life. I was brought up in Switzerland when I was young because I had asthma. I went to school with Hans. We were firm friends. He's a brilliant man now as he was a brilliant boy then, and he knows probably more about my particular field than any other man alive today. He's a thoroughly enlightened, liberal chap." "I'm very gratified to hear it," said De Vouvenay. "You're gratified to hear it? And just who the hell do you think you are? I very much regret leaving my Swiss school where I worked and had fun, to come back here for the sole privilege of watching your nasty little career developing from the self-righteous goody-goody with the only unbroken voice in school that could do justice to the soprano solos in the Messiah to the pompous prig who has the impertinance to ventilate opinions about which he knows nothing, nothing, nothing! Get out of here!" De Vouvenay rose, flushed with anger, his yellow hair falling over one eye. "Your letter will be confiscated for the time being, and perhaps, in time, you will learn to behave yourself sufficiently for us to be able to entrust you with Herr Nussli's replies." Henry was aghast. "D'you mean" Sir Humphrey looked at him steadily and openly. "I will apologize for Mr. De Vouvenay since Mr. De Vouvenay evidently hasn't the resources to apologize for himself." "Letters to me-" "Yes, Henry. I deplore the practice of opening other people's mail. Especially do I deplore it when it is perpetrated by a government. But, as an Englishman, and as one who recognized your great talent early in life, I must say that I realize the necessity for such emergency measures at this time. We must protect our secret from any enemy, and we must also protect you from yourself. I don't know what you have been writing to Herr Nussli in these past months, but the one answer in our possession suggests that he has a detailed and even a brilliant insight into our methods. What is especially disturbing is his apparent knowledge of our fuel-" "Our fuel, fiddlesticks. It was his fuel as much as mine. How do you think two friends work when they're fired by the same ambition? They share their information, selflessly, for the common good." "In the mail? Neither of these letters was so much as registered." "Surely the mail is more discreet than the telephone, and it's certainly less expensive. I never for one moment believed that my letters would be opened. Had I known that, I would have found other means of communication." "Such as?" sneered De Vouvenay. "Pigeons!" spat Henry. When the visitors left, Henry chided himself for not having hit De Vouvenay. He had actually been forced to defend himself from a position which was as strong as any position could be in a country with democratic traditions. His correspondence had been confiscated, and yet somehow he 19