That Hideous Strength

II

“This throws a quite unexpected burden on our resources,” said Wither to Frost, where they both sat in the outer room with the door ajar. “I must confess I had not anticipated any serious difficulty about language.”

“We must get a Celtic scholar at once,” said Frost.

“We are regrettably weak on the philological side. I do not at the moment know who has discovered most about ancient British. Ransom would be the man to advise us if he were available. I suppose nothing has been heard of him by your department?”

“I need hardly point out,” said Wither, “that Dr. Ransom’s philological attainments are by no means the only ground on which we are anxious to find him. If the least trace had been discovered, you may rest assured that you would have long since had the-ah-gratification of seeing him here in person.”

“Of course. He may not be in the Earth at all.”

“I met him once,” said Wither, half closing his eyes.

“He was a most brilliant man in his way. A man whose penetrations and intuitions might have been of infinite value, if he had not embraced the cause of reaction. It is a saddening reflection-”

“Of course,” said Frost, interrupting him. “Straik knows modern Welsh. His mother was a Welsh woman.”

“It would certainly be much more satisfactory,” said Wither, “if we could, so to speak, keep the whole matter in the family. There would be something very disagreeable to me-and I am sure you would feel the same way yourself-about introducing a Celtic expert from outside.”

“The expert would of course, be provided for as soon as we could dispense with his services, replied Frost. “It is the waste of time that is the trouble. What progress have you made with Straik?”

“Oh, really, excellent.” said the Deputy Director. “Indeed I am almost a little disappointed. I mean, my pupil is advancing so rapidly that it may be necessary to abandon an idea which, I confess, rather attracts me. I had been thinking while you were out of the room that it would be specially fitting and-ah-proper and gratifying if your pupil and mine could be initiated together. We should both, I am sure, have felt . . . But, of course, if Straik is ready some time before Studdock, I should not feel myself entitled to stand in his way. You will understand, my dear fellow, that I am not trying to make this anything like a test case as to the comparative efficiency of our very different methods.”

“It would be impossible for you to do so,” said Frost, “since I have interviewed Studdock only once, and that one interview has had all the success that could be expected. I mentioned Straik only to find out whether he were already so far committed that he might properly be introduced to our guest.”

“Oh . . . as to being committed, said Wither, “in some sense . . . ignoring certain fine shades for the moment, while fully recognising their ultimate importance, . . . I should not hesitate . . . we should be perfectly justified.”

“I was thinking,” said Frost, “that there must be someone on duty here. He may awake at any moment. Our pupils-Straik and Studdock-could take it in turns. There is no reason why they should not be useful even before their full initiation. They would, of course, be under orders to ring us up the moment anything happened.”

“You think Mr.-ah-Studdock is far enough on?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Frost. “What harm can he do? He can’t get out. And in the meantime we only want someone to watch. It would be a useful test.”