The Secret War Read Online Free

month. The probabilities are that the Italians will have to dig in then and wait till the next dry season before they can advance further. Even if they succeed in taking Addis Ababa they will not have conquered the country. The tribes will still put up a stiff resistance in the western mountains. I should have been out there months ago if I hadn’t been held up by other, rather important, personal affairs.”
    â€œI see,” Penn hesitated; “but what is it you are going to do out there?”
    â€œI don’t quite know yet,” Lovelace said quietly. “I have a little money of my own. Not much, but enough to make me independent, so I’ve knocked about the world a good deal, and I’ve rather a gift for languages. I’ve been mixed up in the tail ends of half a dozen wars too, and know how to handle native labour, so there are plenty of jobs the relief organisations would be glad to give a fellow like myself.”
    â€œI see. You make a habit of being on the spot in any war that’s going. But why? Is it because you like the excitement?”
    â€œNo.” Lovelace fiddled with his pipe, and seemed a little shy as he gave his reason. “You’ll probably think me a queer bird, but if you’ve never seen it you can have no idea of the incredible misery and suffering which afflicts the population behind a war zone. And since we can’t stop the war, I feel it’s up to those of us who can afford to chuck up the easy life to go and do the little that’s possible to make things just a shade less terrible, particularly for the women and children.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” said Penn softly. “You’re really a war hater, just as much as I am, then. I’m afraid I’ve done you rather an injustice.”
    â€œOh, that’s all right. It just amuses me to pull the leg of theoretical pacifists like Cassel now and again, that’s all.”
    Penn passed a hand over his jet-black hair. For a moment he was silent. “You know,” he said at last,“there’s lots of things I’d like to talk to you about. D’you happen to be fixed up for this evening?”
    â€œNo. I was going to a show but the man I was going with has gone sick.”
    â€œWell, I can’t ask you to dine in New York because it’s essential I should go out to my Long Island home to-night. But, if you don’t mind the drive, we could dine there and the car could run you back, or I could put you up for the night, just as you prefer.”
    â€œThanks. I’ll come with pleasure.”
    As they stood up to leave, Lovelace glanced at the pale ascetic face of the young American again. “I wonder,” he said suddenly, “if there is really anything except pacifist bluff behind this
Millers of God
business. D’you think the police will stand any chance of tracing the man who gave you that message?”
    Christopher Penn’s beautifully chiselled mouth curved into a faint smile. “Not the least,” he said firmly. “I don’t mind telling you now that whatever description I give will be completely mythical, and that the
Millers of God
are in deadly earnest. I am one of them myself, you see.”
    â€œI had an idea that might be the case,” murmured Sir Anthony Lovelace.

CHAPTER II

MURDER?
    As Penn and Lovelace left the warmth and security of the Union Club, the outer world seemed doubly grim by contrast.
    Manhattan Island was still in the grip of winter. Spring might be on the way, but the towering blocks of steel and concrete flung their pinnacles towards a grey and lowering sky. An icy wind bent the tree-tops in Central Park and howled down the man-made canyons, causing the down-town crowd to draw their wraps more closely round them as they hurried homewards from their offices.
    During the forty-mile drive the two men hardly spoke. Penn, at the wheel of his long low car, was intent on the swift-moving