GREENMANTLEby JOHN BUCHAN

Chapter1

A Mission is Proposed:

I had just finished breakfast and was filling my pipe when I gotBullivant's telegram. It was at Furling, the big country house inHampshire where I had come to convalesce after Loos, and Sandy,who was in the same case, was hunting for the marmalade. I flung himthe flimsy with the blue strip pasted down on it, and he whistled.

'Hullo, Dick, you've got the battalion. Or maybe it's a staffbillet. You'll be a blighted brass-hat, coming it heavy over thehard-working regimental officer. And to think of the language you'vewasted on brass-hats in your time!'

I sat and thought for a bit, for the name 'Bullivant' carried meback eighteen months to the hot summer before the war. I had notseen the man since, though I had read about him in the papers. Formore than a year I had been a busy battalion officer, with no otherthought than to hammer a lot of raw stuff into good soldiers. I hadsucceeded pretty well, and there was no prouder man on earth thanRichard Hannay when he took his Lennox Highlanders over theparapets on that glorious and bloody 25th day of September. Looswas no picnic, and we had had some ugly bits of scrapping beforethat, but the worst bit of the campaign I had seen was a tea-party tothe show I had been in with Bullivant before the war started. [MajorHannay's narrative of this affair has been published under the titleof _The _Thirty-nine _Steps.]

The sight of his name on a telegram form seemed to change allmy outlook on life. I had been hoping for the command of thebattalion, and looking forward to being in at the finish with BrotherBoche. But this message jerked my thoughts on to a new road.There might be other things in the war than straightforward fighting.Why on earth should the Foreign Office want to see an obscure Majorof the New Army, and want to see him in double-quick time?'I'm going up to town by the ten train,' I announced; 'I'll beback in time for dinner.'

'Try my tailor,' said Sandy. 'He's got a very nice taste in redtabs. You can use my name.'An idea struck me. 'You're pretty well all right now. If I wirefor you, will you pack your own kit and mine and join me?''Right-o! I'll accept a job on your staff if they give you a corps.If so be as you come down tonight, be a good chap and bring abarrel of oysters from Sweeting's.'

I travelled up to London in a regular November drizzle, whichcleared up about Wimbledon to watery sunshine. I never couldstand London during the war. It seemed to have lost its bearings andbroken out into all manner of badges and uniforms which did not fitin with my notion of it. One felt the war more in its streets than inthe field, or rather one felt the confusion of war without feeling thepurpose. I dare say it was all right; but since August 1914 I neverspent a day in town without coming home depressed to my boots.I took a taxi and drove straight to the Foreign Office. Sir Walterdid not keep me waiting long. But when his secretary took me tohis room I would not have recognized the man I had knowneighteen months before.

His big frame seemed to have dropped flesh and there was astoop in the square shoulders. His face had lost its rosiness and wasred in patches, like that of a man who gets too little fresh air. Hishair was much greyer and very thin about the temples, and therewere lines of overwork below the eyes. But the eyes were the sameas before, keen and kindly and shrewd, and there was no change inthe firm set of the jaw.

'We must on no account be disturbed for the next hour,' he toldhis secretary. When the young man had gone he went across toboth doors and turned the keys in them.'Well, Major Hannay,' he said, flinging himself into a chair besidethe fire. 'How do you like soldiering?''Right enough,' I said, 'though this isn't just the kind of war Iwould have picked myself. It's a comfortless, bloody business. Butwe've got the measure of the old Boche now, and it's dogged asdoes it. I count on getting back to the front in a week or two.''Will you get the battalion?' he asked. He seemed to havefollowed my doings pretty closely.