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JANE GRELLIER & VERONICA GOERKE
Communications Toolkit © 2018 Cengage Learning Australia Pty Limited
4th Edition
Jane Grellier Copyright Notice
Veronica Goerke This Work is copyright. No part of this Work may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior
written permission of the Publisher. Except as permitted under the
Publishing manager: Dorothy Chiu Copyright Act 1968, for example any fair dealing for the purposes of private
Senior publishing editor: Fiona Hammond study, research, criticism or review, subject to certain limitations. These
Developmental editor: Jacqueline Flynn/Carly Slater/Vicki limitations include: Restricting the copying to a maximum of one chapter or
Stegink 10% of this book, whichever is greater; providing an appropriate notice and
Project editor: Sutha Surenddar warning with the copies of the Work disseminated; taking all reasonable
Cover design: Watershed Design (Leigh Ashforth) steps to limit access to these copies to people authorised to receive these
Text design: Jennai Lee Fai copies; ensuring you hold the appropriate Licences issued by the
Editor: Duncan Campbell-Avenell Copyright Agency Limited (“CAL”), supply a remuneration notice to CAL and
Proofreader: James Anderson pay any required fees. For details of CAL licences and remuneration notices
Permissions/Photo researcher: Helen Mammides please contact CAL at Level 15, 233 Castlereagh Street, Sydney NSW 2000,
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Typeset by Cenveo Publisher Services Email: [email protected]
Website: www.copyright.com.au
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currency during the production process. Note, however, that For product information and technology assistance,
the publisher cannot vouch for the ongoing currency of URLs. in Australia call 1300 790 853;
in New Zealand call 0800 449 725
Acknowledgements For permission to use material from this text or product, please email
We would like to acknowledge the work of past students that [email protected]
appear in this text. Every effort has been made to contact
them. (as in 3e ©) National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Creator: Jane Grellier, author.
Every effort has been made to track and acknowledge Title: Communications toolkit / Jane Grellier, Veronica Goerke
copyright. However, if any infringement has occurred, the Edition: 4th edition
publishers tender their apologies and invite the copyright ISBN: 9780170401623 (spiral)
holder to contact them. Notes: Includes index.
Subjects: Engineering communication
Science communication
Communication skills
Professional communication skills
Other Creators/Contributors:
Veronica Goerke, author.
1
Tertiary Education Quality and Standards Agency. 2017. ‘Characteristics of Australian Higher
Education Providers and Their Relation to First-year Student Attrition.’ Melbourne: Australian
Government Department of Education and Training.
2
Higher Education Standards Panel. 2017. ‘Improving Retention, Completion and Success in
Higher Education: HESP Discussion Paper.’ Australian Government Department of Education and
Training.
vi
FOREWORD vii
study and the criteria for successful engagement with it. Given the foreseeability of
transition hurdles, there is an onus on us to articulate, clearly and consistently, not only the
explicit but also the hidden rules, expectations and behaviours fundamental to learning
engagement and success. If we expect first-year students to become independent and self-
managing learners, they must be supported in their early development and acquisition
of the tools they need – transferable academic skills – to engage productively with the
learning and assessment tasks we design for them. Mastery of these basic enabling skills
is foundational for later years’ learning success in all disciplines and for future learning.
Essentially also, their attainment presages the acquisition of key graduate attributes,
outcomes which TEQSA requires HE providers to evidence and the employability skills
that are demanded of graduates on entry into the workplace.
This book makes clear for all students, whatever their background or prior learning, the
substance of the academic skills in which they must be proficient. It does so comprehensively
and accessibly, in a manner that is direct, inclusive, motivational and student-friendly. The
practical advice, tips and strategies that are presented provide novice learners with the
opportunity to acquire the threshold skills and literacies many degree programs assume
already exist. In this way, the book makes explicit many of the hidden curriculum’s rules
and expectations, while also surfacing the potential for disciplinary difference. Critically
for first-year success, the authors acknowledge early the importance of the social context of
learning and seek to normalise the predictable anxiety many new learners will encounter
over the course of their early engagement with the student life cycle.
But students are only one half of the equation for effective transition pedagogy. Many
higher education teachers also require assistance to unpack and scaffold the acquisition
of these foundational skills for diverse cohorts; assistance which is not predicated on a
deficit view of entering student ability. This is another great value of this text – the ways
and means for empowering student learning are made explicit for both students and their
teachers. To have maximum impact on student success, substantive references to this book
should be embedded in core first-year curricula – in lectures and tutorials, in program
materials, in reading lists, in eLearning and the like – as a basis for discussing these enablers
with students in ways that are contextualised to the discipline. The research in this regard is
clear: to be most effective, language and learning skills’ development should be integrated
into the curriculum and context of discipline learning – their acquisition cannot be left to
chance.
I commend the authors on the obvious care, expertise and respect for students and their
learning they have brought to this task. The book is a valuable contribution to the effective
deployment of transition pedagogy and should be harnessed in aid of intentional first-year
curriculum design. I recommend this book as an invaluable learning support for diverse
first-year student cohorts and for those who seek to engage with them for learning success.
Both students and teachers will be grateful for the learning it facilitates.
viii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many of our colleagues at Curtin University have continued to be supportive and generous
with their time and ideas as we have been working on this fourth edition. In particular, we
would like to thank fellow Curtin University staff members who have given us invaluable
feedback that has enriched and sharpened this edition. A special note of appreciation goes
to Katie Dunworth and Carmela Briguglio, who are international leaders in research into
English-language proficiency and what this means in the Australian higher-education
sector. Veronica has been privileged to have had their direction and guidance on the
text, as well as their assistance while working on university strategies to support academic
communication development among students. Veronica again acknowledges Anne Harris
for her commitment, supportive conversation and expertise in this field. This fourth edition
acknowledges the contribution of senior Wadjuck, Simon Forrest, the Elder in Residence
at Curtin University.
We thank again those involved in the development of the first three editions, whose
feedback and contribution are the foundation of this new text: Carol Igglesden, Katie
Scott, Cathryn Wilkinson, Cathy Cupitt, Lyn Payne, Gabby Barrett, Sue Denham, Katalin
Dobos, Deborah Hunn, Richard Liston, Robyn Mayes, Chris Nagel, Hugh Rayner,
Nari van Der Zanden, Sue Grey-Smith, Pippa Beetson, Paula Beck, Karen Rickman,
Katherine Bathgate, Melanie Griffiths, Michelle Carey, Jeannie Morrison, Michelle
Webb, Geoff Cody, Lyn Komarzynski, Liam Lynch, Joy Scott and Helen Rogers from
the Communications Program; Lara Mackintosh from the Department of Architecture;
Ann Kosovich, Beatrice Tucker, Kuki Singh, Raelene Tifflin and Allan Goody (Office
of Teaching and Learning); Aaron Matthews (Centre for Aboriginal Studies); Jim Elliott
(Student Transition and Retention Team); Lynne Vautier (the TL Robertson Library); and
Courtenay Harris (Faculty of Health Sciences).
As with previous editions, this toolkit would be impoverished without the many examples
of written work and ideas students have allowed us to include. Delighting in their success as
communicators, we thank all these students: Sanan Al Abbasi, Esther Adeney, Geoff Barnes,
Nicholas Bertone, Tammy Beven, Simon Blyth, Kaden Boekhoorn, Jonathon Borrello,
Barbara Bozsik, Gabrielle Brabander, Suzanne Breusch, Alex Cardell-Oliver, Alex (Ping Hei)
Chan, Ebony Clare Chang, Rebecca Chang, Justin Colangelo, Nikki D’Agostino, Tomzarni
Dann, Matthew Degnan, Anna Dewar-Leahy, Aden Dielesen, Sean Dixon, Hursh Dodhia-
Shah, Khush Dodhia-Shah, Marcia Doolan, Sarah Edmiston, Stephen Edmund, Rebecca
Hadley, Stephanie Huynh, Matthew Hunter, Naomi Fisher, Kristie Foenander, Daniel Frewer,
Chaithanya Giridharan, Alannah Goerke, Megan Goerke, Martin Gowran, Anne Hibbard,
Jessica Hodder, Anneliese Hunt, Joel Kandiah, Daniel Laaja, Mortigou Labunda, Suzanne
Lambaart, Jonathan Lendich, Chris Lodge, Sharon Marrelies Backley, Jessica Matthews, Simon
McLaughlin, Alina Morelli, Samantha Petri, Sally Potsch, Ryan Quinn, Kieron Safstrom,
Samia Scott, Melissa Settineri, Kelley Shaughnessy, Josh Sunderland, Freyja Taverner, Stephanie
Walker, Hannah Walter, Kathleen Ward, Emily Webb, Lavinia Wehr, Jennifer Zeven, Alex
Zuniga, Lewis Stewart and Tashia Abeyasinghe.
Jane would like to thank her husband Warren for his continuing support through this
writing process. Their shared passion for teaching and for language lies at the heart of all
her work, and their teaching experiences together over the past two years have kept her
ix
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x Acknowledgements
grounded and enthusiastic. She would also like to thank teacher, friend and co-learner Joy
Scott, who challenges, supports and laughs along with her.
Veronica thanks her husband, Mark, who remains delightfully pedantic about the
written and spoken word! She also adds a note of appreciation for her children, Damien,
Alannah and Megan, who, with their friends, continue to show her that communication is
dynamic and multi-dimensional – especially as they chat with her using one of the many
communication apps like Messenger and WhatsApp, along with Bitmoji and Snapchat.
However, they probably don’t ‘Zoom’, WebEx or Spark as much as she does. (Veronica
notes that all these communication tools may have been superseded by the time this edition
is published!)
To the staff at Cengage Learning, especially Fiona Hammond, Jacqueline Flynn, Carly
Slater, Sutha Surenddar, Vicki Stegink and Duncan Campbell-Avenell, who have supported
us in this venture ‘fourth time around’, we say thank you for your patience and helpful
encouragement.
Veronica also acknowledges the teachers who have used the text with their students.
The original book was written as a toolkit not only for students but also for their teachers,
and we hope this revised edition continues to assist educators to support their students’
learning.
The authors and Cengage Learning would also like to thank the following reviewers for
their incisive and helpful feedback:
• Annalise O’Callaghan, Curtin University
• Anne Clear, Murdoch University
• Tanya Weiler, UNI SA
• Rosemary Kerr, Curtin University
• Sue Dean, University of Technology Sydney
• Ashleigh Thompson, Massey University
• Andy Brown, University of Tasmania
• Amanda Muller, Flinders University.
BEFORE YOU READ THIS BOOK
Students, past and present, are the characters in this book. They come from Curtin
University in Perth, Western Australia; Open Universities Australia, and Miri, Sarawak;
Notre Dame University, Fremantle; Edith Cowan University; and the University of
Western Australia. They are enrolled in a wide range of courses, including fine arts, design,
social sciences, commerce, health sciences, science, law, engineering, nursing, computer
science, geology, spatial sciences, architecture, planning, construction management,
cultural studies, journalism, screen arts and education courses. Most are first-year students,
taking a unit that focuses on the learning processes they will need for university study – in
research, academic writing, teamwork and oral presentations. These students have provided
models for this book, and stories of effective (and not-so-effective) academic practice.
Our experience teaching and coordinating units for such students has played a major
part in shaping this book:
• We have chosen to write informally throughout the book, addressing you, the current
student, directly, and speaking personally about our own experience.
• We address both individual students and those working in seminar or workshop groups,
and provide activities for both types of student throughout the book.
• We also emphasise some of the language processes you will need in your future
professional careers in order to communicate successfully with clients, employers and
colleagues. You can’t start to develop these processes too soon!
• The book is applicable to all undergraduate courses at university, particularly to first-
year students in these courses. You will be able to apply our advice and models to
whatever discipline you are studying.
• The book will be useful for any student studying at a tertiary or a secondary level.
Developing academic communications is a major educational focus in the twenty-first
century, and the book is our contribution to this.
Although the book focuses on language development, we want to emphasise that
education, both tertiary and secondary, is about much more than this. We like this quote
from Allan Luke, Professor of Education at Queensland University of Technology, from his
public address at the Brisbane Ideas Festival on 30 March 2006:
“ Although they always have and will continue to serve the national economic
interest, universities must remain seedbeds for basic intellectual work, for
speculative theory and experimental practice. They must perpetually strive to
become more open environments where students are encouraged to engage with
historical, scientific and narrative knowledge, to debate these matters freely and
speculatively, and to apply these understandings to the complex worlds of new
“
economies, new technologies and new cultures.
Professor Allan Luke (2006). Address to Brisbane Ideas Festival
This quote sums up our approach to education. While we focus in this book on helping you
develop the processes you will need to be successful students, we believe that these processes are
means rather than ends in themselves. If you learn well to think, research, write, reflect, work
collaboratively and make oral presentations, then you can benefit from the ‘seedbeds’ and ‘open
environments’ that are universities, and you can play your part in making them such rich places.
We wish you joy of your studies, and hope that this book will enhance them.
xi
Guide to the text
As you read this text, you will find a number of features in every
chapter to enhance your study of communication and help you
understand how the theory is applied in the real world.
ACADEMIC
9 ESSAY WRITING
Identify the key concepts
that the chapter will
CONTENTS cover with the Chapter
• The academic essay
outline at the start of each
+ The analytical essay
+ The argumentative essay
chapter.
• Early research
+ Primary research
• Developing your argument
138 COMMUNICATIONS TOOLKIT
+ The thesis statement
+ The concessive argument
• Writing your essay
+ First or third person?
+ Language and approaches to writing
Final words from our students
+ The introduction
+ The paragraph CHAPTER 9: ACAdEmiC EssAy wRiTing 175
Earlier in this chapter we commented that reflection at first-year level is a preparation
+ The conclusion
for deeper critical and reflective thinking in future years. To emphasise this crucial
FEATURES WITHIN CHAPTERS
• Editing and proofreading your essay
point, we include a reflection from urban and regional planning student Chris Lodge
(see Student reflection 7.13 ), who reflects on an issue he has been challenged to
consider throughout his first-semester studies: ‘the Great Australian Dream’.
Although fairy tales facilitate essential childhood development, Disney’s animated Princess
films, with the Disney Princess marketing image, continue to perpetuate traditional gender
roles and promote increasingly sexualised body aspirations to young girls, which may lead to
negative body image and low self-esteem.
Reflective writing can begin your thinking processes
Student reflection 7.13
When we contacted Chris the following year for permission to include his
Scientists, pastin
reflection and present,
this book,who have taken
he agreed, buta added
public stand on was
that he a particular issue have
embarrassed
been attacked by members of the public who disagree with their point of view. Ultimately, some
this reflection because he felt his ideas had developed significantly since he had written
often
on re-reading Explore Annotated examples of
people also tend to question the motives of the scientist, citing the fact that some scientists
it. This is almost certainly true; but it doesn’t discount the value of this
may be outspoken in order to receive the government research grants that are so desperately
piece of writing. real communication that highlight
In trying
But, toas penetrate deeply
(1999)into hisinthinking on theProfessor
topic as aMary
thenJo first-year student,
required.
Chris was
Mark Floyd
setting the
notes
foundations for
a story about
his strong future studies. The
Professor of Humanities at Oregon State University, ‘if scientists do not become involved in
Nye, Horning
most perceptive good practice and room for
thinkers
public
contradicting
issues
are thosethewho
policy debates,
that are not them
continue
result can be atodecision-making
try out ideas, shaping,
as they go. Ultimately,
fully understood’. We are more concerned
it was,
discarding,
process involving
aboutis,our
and currently with
developing
complex,
students
criticaland
who have
the assistance
improvement. Further examples of
no questions
of scientists
natural universe. A
about what
that humanity, as athey
historical overview
are hearing
species,
of
is able tothan
scientific
wethe
unlock aresecrets
philosophy
about of
will
developed ideas and change them frequently. Learning is about engagement!
those
result
who tryand
the physical
in an
outthe
acceptance
half-
by
student presentations are included
the reader
issues,
Thethat without
final
breakthroughs
words theon
intervention
the role ofof reflection
that have
men and women of science
in their studies in controversial
belong to two public
students online in the CourseMate Express
who reflect on what theythehave
potential
learnedto erase
fromcommon ideologies
a semester will become
of reflective scarce.(see
writing
Student reflection 7.14). Construction managementDaniel
student Anna
Frewer, Dewar-Leahy
engineering student website.
is beginning to reflect on how valuable reflective thinking will be for her, while
Figure 9.6 Concessive paragraph
Compound sentences
BK-CLA-GRELLIER_4E-170321-Chp09.indd 180
BK-CLA-GRELLIER_4E-170321-Chp09.indd 171
ICONS 12/02/18 6:49 PM
END-OF-CHAPTER FEATURES
Visit http://login.cengagebrain.com and use the access code that comes with Express
this book for 12-month access to the resources and study tools for this chapter.
CHAPTER 2: DEvEloPing EffECTivE sTuDy skills 33
that it study
1 What runs successfully?
approaches and techniques have worked well for me in the
4 Most advice
past? Do about
I need successful
to adapt themstudy focuses
so that on being
they will prepared and
suit university study?
keeping
2 What up to date
mistakes and with set work. Do Ihave
misunderstandings needIto adapt any of
experienced in my
the lifestyle
past that
and habits to help me be more successful?
have harmed my results? How can I organise my studies this year in such
Useful websites
5 aWhat
way are
as tomy priorities
start at thisthese
overcoming stageproblems?
in my life? Where do studies fit with
3 the
CouldrestI of my life?
benefit from discussing ideas and studying with a small group of
Theother
following online resources
students? How mightprovide further
I help useful information
organise aboutstudy
an informal essay writing:
group so
that itNational
Australian runs successfully?
University Academic Skills and Learning Centre: ‘Essay Writing’:
http://www.anu.edu.au/students/learning-development/writing-assessment/essay-
4 Most advice about successful study focuses on being prepared and
writing. up to date with set work. Do I need to adapt any of my lifestyle
keeping
Use the Useful websites to
and habits
University to help
of Sydney me be
Learning more‘Planning
Centre: successful?
your Essay’: http://writesite.elearn.usyd. extend your understanding and
edu.au/m3/m3u1/index.htm.
5 What are my priorities at this stage in my life? Where do studies fit with
the rest
University of of
NewmySouth
life?Wales Learning Centre: ‘Essay and Assignment Writing’: explore online resources.
https://student.unsw.edu.au/essay-and-assignment-writing.
Purdue University (US) Online Writing Lab (OWL): ‘Academic writing’:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/section/1/2/.
References
Extend your understanding
BK-CLA-GRELLIER_4E-170321-Chp02.indd 33 12/02/18 7:35 PM
Floyd, Mark. 1999. ‘Should Scientists Become Players in Public Policy Debate?’ Oregon State
University News and Research Communications, 25 January. http://oregonstate.edu/ua/ncs/ through the suggested
archives/1999/jan/should-scientists-become-players-public-policy-debate.
Kartinyeri, Doreen and Sue Anderson. 2008. Doreen Kartinyeri: My Ngarrindjeri Calling.
References relevant to each
Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press: 2. chapter.
BK-CLA-GRELLIER_4E-170321-Chp02.indd 33 12/02/18 7:35 PM
xv
xvi GUIDE TO THE ONLINE RESOURCES
New copies of this text come with an access code that gives you
a 12-month subscription to the CourseMate Express website.
Visit http://login.cengagebrain.com and log in
using the access code card.
1 TO TERTIARY
STUDIES
Over the past few decades, the digital revolution has caused disruption in how tertiary institutions
create and deliver education. These institutions have been working hard to transform how they
help you learn skills to enhance how innovative, entrepreneurial and collaborative you will be in
solving real-world problems. This approach is supported by industry and governments across
the globe that are ‘prioritizing education reforms that emphasize more 21st century practices’
(Adams Becker et al. 2017, 12). Every tertiary institution is committed to helping you stay and
succeed in whatever you have chosen to study with them, and so they make big investments to
help you have a smooth transition. As Professor Sally Kift has stated, ‘it is clear that first year
students face unique challenges as they make very individual transitions to study; particularly
academically and socially, but also culturally, administratively and environmentally’ (2015, 53).
In Australia, the Tertiary Education Quality and Standards Agency (TEQSA) monitors the
standards of these higher-education institutions to ensure you receive a quality learning
experience. The first Part of our text should help you get off to a good start.
Part 1 will be useful if you are beginning your higher-education studies – whether you are a
recent school-leaver or are returning to study after doing other things. Many of you will make a
smooth transition to tertiary studies, adapting to new expectations and approaches to learning;
some of you, however, will experience challenges. You may have difficulties organising yourself,
adjusting to the course you have chosen or developing the particular communication skills
required for success at this level.
You may be an older student (i.e. who has not come straight from school) who hasn’t done
extended writing for 20 years and may feel overwhelmed by the apparent expectations around
digital literacy. Or you might be a student who is very confident with mathematics, but not so
sure of your oral-presentation skills. You may even be the first person in your family to enrol in
higher education. Whoever you are, this section Part contains hints that will be useful for you.
Part 1 has two chapters. The first introduces you to some key aspects of life in higher education,
while the second outlines some reading, note-making and exam-preparation skills that you may
find beneficial. If you already feel confident in both of these areas, go straight to Part 2.
1: Making the transition
2: Developing effective study skills
1
MAKING THE
1 TRANSITION
CONTENTS
• Your first months as a tertiary student
++ Studying fully online
++ Connecting with peers
++ Connecting with faculty
++ The online learning environment
++ The library
++ Academic learning support
++ Course and unit/subject outlines
++ Calendars and study plans
++ Overview of the semester
++ Class formats – virtual and physical
++ Study groups
• Respecting diversity
• Mature-aged students
• English-language proficiency
• New international students
• Communicating with members of staff
++ Formal emails
• Challenges you might face
++ Dissatisfaction with assessment results
++ Falling behind in your studies
++ Course too difficult or motivation low
Our last piece of advice should possibly have come at the beginning; but, after
thinking through some of the above advice, you may now be in a better position
to receive it. Think again about your commitment to online study and, more
importantly, about how much you will be able to undertake. Online study is not a
method of ‘rushing through’ a course while applying less effort than in face-to-face
learning. In fact, it will often be more time-consuming than on-campus study, and it
can be more difficult to maintain your commitment to study when you are working
alone. Its value is that it allows you to be flexible in time and space; but it will still
make large demands on your time.
At least at the beginning of your online studies, do not overload yourself with
many units. Take your time, be patient with yourself and focus on developing good
online study habits.
If you don’t yet know these details even though you have been studying for a
while, don’t be afraid to go and find out about them now. After all, you’re likely to
be studying within the same area for at least three years.
The library
More than ever before, higher-education libraries are the places to go to learn all
you need to know about succeeding in tertiary environments. As a tertiary student,
you will need to use more than just general websites for your research; lecturers
will generally expect you to use a range of sources, including discipline-specific
e-journals, which can often only be accessed via the library. Don’t forget the
librarians themselves, because they are usually at the forefront of digital technology,
making them invaluable when you are conducting secondary research at this level.
(See Chapter 3 for further details.) As well as speaking directly to the librarians, you
can also communicate with them online. Whatever resources are available at your
institution’s library, access and use them.
Thus, as soon as you are enrolled, whether you’re studying on campus or online,
you should do a tour of your library’s website so that you will know what the library
can offer you.
In addition to online support, every campus will have places where students can
go to get free assistance with their studies. This may include help with essay writing,
academic study skills seminars and assistance with English-language proficiency.
Explore what is available so that when you need some help, you will know where
to get it. Most tertiary institutions house this information ‘one click away’ from
the homepage, such as at Swinburne University (http://www.swinburne.edu.au/
student/study-help/las.html) and at Queensland University of Technology (see the
‘Cite/Write’ link at https://www.student.qut.edu.au/). If you’re having problems,
especially in areas such as organising your life or writing your assignments, go and
ask for help. It is there!
If you are an Australian Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander student – and
especially if you are from a remote community – you may choose to seek out the
areas of your campus that are especially for Indigenous Australian students. Search
the website and you will find information such as Nura Gili at the University of
New South Wales (see https://student.unsw.edu.au/additional-support).
Whoever you are, you should find out what your institution can offer you.
working on them well in advance. You won’t be able to complete them all in the week
they’re due. Even if you were a person who could start and finish an assignment in one
night at secondary school, you will not be able to do this with tertiary-level studies.
When you prepare your study plan in the first week of semester, indicate the
blocks of time that you will spend on each assignment. If the assignments are all due
in Week 12, setting aside only Week 11 to work on them is risky. Here are some tips
to help you:
• Talk to your peers about how they organise their homework and study time (but
ignore people who say they don’t do any work and ‘wing it’ the night before). See
the section later in this chapter about the value of study groups.
• If you need to submit a hard copy of your assignment, don’t leave the printing
until ‘the night before’. There may be problems – e.g. with a printer breaking
down – so organise your printing well in advance of the due date.
• If everything gets too much and you are behind on an assignment, speak to the
relevant lecturer (in person or by email) as soon as possible. If possible, it’s a good
idea to indicate what you have completed so far and how much more you plan to do.
• You may need a short extension on the submission date. Remember that you usually
need to apply for this before the assignment is due. Check your unit outline for the
rules about extensions. Some of our students leave it until it’s too late to apply for an
extension, and then they might have marks deducted for making a late submission.
• Another option is to use your institution’s academic learning support services
or visit its counselling service. Counsellors are not just there to assist you
when life is difficult; they are there for students who simply get tired, stressed
or disorganised. So don’t forget to check out the relevant information on your
institution’s website.
Whatever you decide to do, do something. Your lecturers can’t read your mind
and, even if you don’t believe you have a valid excuse, if you are not coping and are
having difficulty meeting an assessment deadline, speak to someone about it.
Orientation Week
For most tertiary institutions, Orientation Week (or ‘O Week’) is the time when
students are introduced to their study environment and, more specifically, to their
course. You will be introduced to key staff members, receive information about your
course and be expected to familiarise yourself with the campus or online environment.
You will confirm your class timetable, check course and unit/subject information
online, explore on-campus (or online) classrooms and create a study plan.
It’s normal to experience information overload during this time. However, you’ll
soon start to feel familiar and more at ease.
8 COMMUNICATIONS TOOLKIT
HINT
Participate in Orientation Week!
Lots of fun things happening during ‘O Week’, but this is also the time for course introductions.
Attend these sessions, because if you don’t, it will be like missing the beginning of a movie;
you can catch up, but you will need to put in extra effort to do so. If you do miss a session, be
proactive: communicate with your unit coordinator and peers to find out what you need to know.
HINT
Hint from a recent graduate
“ Completing assignments and fulfilling the obligations of your degree well
before the due dates will grant you the gift of ultimate freedom to experience
the joys of university, like friends, partying, sports and other events, to their
“
fullest potential.
Hursh Dodhia-Shah, Bachelor of Commerce graduate
The last day for enrolling in a new unit/subject to your course is usually
within the first week of semester. You may be overwhelmed with expectations
and information, but if you are starting to feel unsure about your current course
and you think you may want to study something else, get advice now before the
deadline.
The last day for withdrawing from a unit/subject without paying fees often occurs
within the first weeks of semester. If you are not sure whether you want to study all
the subjects you are enrolled in, get advice before this payment deadline. You may
need to withdraw from one unit or get help to create a viable study plan.
If you’re having problems understanding the assessments in your course, ask
lecturers for help and use websites such as those named throughout this chapter.
Tuition-free weeks
Throughout the academic year, every institution will have breaks from course
delivery – but not from learning. During these tuition-free weeks, use your time
away from class contact wisely by catching up on assessments and study notes.
Lecturers will be available during these periods, but their contact times may be
more restricted than in other weeks, so check their availability in advance.
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XLIII
ENDOR, from the first, had felt that he would not be able to get free.
And now, his protest made, his own position fully disclosed, he saw
that for the time being, at any rate, there was nothing more that he
could do.
In the moments that immediately followed, a mind cruelly torn
became a house divided against itself. One part of his brain, wherein
lurked the eternal verities, assured him that this illicit assembly, this
Council of Seven, was no place for John Endor. And yet in another
part of his ethos, an influence, alien, but of extreme potency, was
also at work. The cold logic of the matter was that on the issue that
had been raised Lien Weng and his associates were perfectly right.
In a matter of this kind, no man could be permitted to forswear
allegiance. That was only just and fair. And it was reasonable that
one who did so must pay a full penalty. The question of questions
now for John Endor, or at least for the political part of a mind-at-war,
was how, when, in what fashion must the penalty be paid?
If, following at once upon his protest he withdrew from the
deliberations of the Council, he put himself irrevocably out of court.
On the other hand, if he stayed where he was and bore a part in its
transactions, he would be committed by implication to any act upon
which it might decide. The problem for a man faced with such a far-
reaching issue was almost insoluble, but, after a moment of intense
emotion, some deep instinct of policy called upon him to remain.
The hour which followed in the beautiful but smoke-laden Busshe
Court dining room had an entrancing interest for John Endor.
Nothing could have been more severely business-like than the
methods of the Council of Seven. In a few words, chosen with much
skill, Lien Weng made everything quite clear.
Saul Hartz had ignored the recommendations of the Society of the
Friends of Peace and the period of grace had now expired. And, in
accordance with the rules, by which all present were under a solemn
pact to abide, this man, a direct menace to the peace of the world,
must die.
The Seven differed in one instance from the body which had
adjudicated recently in the matter of William Garland, the notorious
Labor Leader, who had chosen also to defy the Society. D’Alvarez,
better known as El Santo, upon whom had devolved the task of
doing Garland to death, had carried it out successfully. He had
therefore been granted from these deliberations the release, which
by the laws of the Society, he was entitled to claim. In his stead
appeared the Society’s most recent and not least important recruit,
John Endor.
So much, in a brief summary, Lien Weng made clear. It now
remained for the seven men sitting round the table to devise a
means of doing Saul Hartz to death. In such cases the practice was,
under a veil of strict secrecy to draw lots as to who must bear this
terrible burden.
The procedure was for each member of the Council to write his
name on a slip of paper, fold it up and place it in a small black velvet
bag. After this receptacle had been shaken by all in turn, the last
comer to the deliberations of the Council was allowed to draw one
name from the bag. It was then shaken again by the six members
whose names remained, and then the person whose name had been
drawn was required to take from the bag a second slip of paper.
Upon this was to be found the name of him who in accordance with
the Society’s rules must do its will.
As soon as Lien Weng had explained what the procedure was and
before any part of it could be set in motion, John Endor rose a
second time to speak. He now addressed himself mainly to George
Hierons the American, and to his own countryman, Roland Holles. In
the stress of the moment he did not hesitate to appeal to them as
fellow members of the Anglo-Saxon world, men of his own race and
blood, white men, men of western training and ideas to whom such
proceedings as these must be subversive in the last degree.
The appeal, brief as it was, had all the cogency of an orator finely
skilled in the art of appealing to the emotions. Speaking with
absolute conviction, his words, it was clear, made a considerable
impression upon those to whom they were addressed. The
Frenchman and the Italian also felt their impact, but Lien Weng and
Bandar Ali could not conceal a deep resentment in spite of the mask
of calm politeness with which they tried to cover it.
“Believing as we do,” were Endor’s final words, “that this man, Saul
Hartz, is the incarnation of evil and that he is a threat to the future
of mankind, I am now convinced that the only true way of removing
this dark shadow is to set in apposition to it the idea of God. Eight
weeks ago, when I took my vow, for the moment I had lost my
vision of the Eternal. It has now returned to me and I see that, as at
present constituted, the Society of the Friends of Peace, albeit
inspired by the highest of all human motives, cannot hope to achieve
its aim.”
Endor’s protest made, he sat down again at the table. He must now
abide the issue. Clairvoyantly he awaited the slow unfolding of an
odd ritual. The proceedings began with curious solemnity. As the
latest member of the Council of Seven, the task devolved upon
himself of drawing from the velvet bag the first slip of paper.
Should he or should he not bear his part? It was a momentous
decision to have to take. But there shot through his mind a clear
perception of the fact that there was really no alternative. He was
under oath to obey the rules of the Society or pay the heaviest
penalty of all.
One glance at the faces around the table told him quite plainly that
the penalty would be exacted. These men were not to be trifled
with. He would die like a rat in a trap. And such an exit would not
save Saul Hartz, nor would it help the future of mankind.
On the spur of the moment Endor had to decide. By a withdrawal
now from the Council of Seven he would gain nothing and yet he
would lose his life. Was he ready to lose it? Was he ready to lose it
without a struggle for the vindication of his ideals? Automatically, yet
with a subtle sense of coercion from the powerful minds around him,
he dipped his hand into the velvet bag and drew out one of the slips
of paper.
Unfolding the strip with a feeling of irresponsibility a little bizarre he
found that on it was written the name George Hierons.
The rules now required that upon the American should devolve the
duty of taking from the velvet bag the name of him who was called
to a dreadful task.
A hush fell upon the table. In a silence that was physical torture to
more than one around that bright mahogany, the strings at the bag’s
mouth were pulled tight, and then the bag itself was handed to
George Hierons.
In this moment of exquisite torment, it was as if something broke
inside John Endor’s heart.
Even before the second slip was drawn from the bag, and the name
it bore was made known, Endor realized, as if by the magic of an
occult power, that in an especial manner Fate had marked him down.
Before the impassive American opened this paper and announced its
contents, the latest member of the Council saw and heard his own
name:
JOHN ENDOR
When seconds later that name was pronounced, he gave a little
gasp. He felt the burning eyes of the others envelop him. Overcome
by emotion, he was unable to meet those eyes and bent his own to
the table. A nausea of dismay bereft him of the power to think or
act. But all too soon there came to his ear the calm and precise
speech of Lien Weng.
“John Endor,” said the President in a small soft voice, not unlike a
cat’s purr, that turned to ice the blood of the man whom he
addressed, “you are called, within the term of eight days, reckoning
from this Sunday midnight, to kill the man Saul Hartz by the method
ordained in such cases by the Council of Seven. What that method
is, it is now our duty to reveal.”
XLIV
FROM the depths of his gorgeous robe, Lien Weng took a small gun-
metal case. A spring released the top. Within was a tiny glass phial,
in the form of a syringe, containing about an ounce of a colorless
fluid. So delicate was the whole contrivance that it could be
concealed in the palm of one hand.
After Lien Weng had placed it on the table in front of him, he went
on to explain its nature and its use.
The fluid was the most subtle and the most deadly poison science
had yet evolved. Distilled in minute quantities by a recent chemical
process from a rare herb indigenous to the Manchurian wilds, the
secret was known to the Society alone, and its use was strictly
regulated by its laws. In operation, as Lien Weng explained, it was
very simple. By discharging the contents of the phial on the back of
a person’s coat, of no matter what thickness, at a point midway
between the shoulder blades, it would percolate in the course of less
than three hours to the spinal marrow. And, without warning of any
kind, it would bring about a sudden and complete collapse of the
nervous system. Death would at once ensue and not leave a trace of
its cause. So subtle was the work of this poison that it defied all
medical diagnosis. Its operation was impossible to detect. Autopsies
were vain. The police of London, New York, Bombay, Shanghai could
only surmise that such a thing existed without being able to prove
the fact. Indeed they were faced by a problem with which they could
not deal; a problem so elusive that it merged cause in effect.
Succinctly and gently, with the air of a British judge addressing a
British jury, Lien Weng expounded all this to John Endor. He was
required to use the lethal weapon formally entrusted to him now by
the decree of the Council of Seven within the time appointed and in
the manner specified.
“And if, sir, one does not choose to carry out this horrible task?” said
Endor, quietly.
“Sir,” was the President’s soft reply, “since you have taken the oath
of our Society is it really necessary for me to answer your question?”
Endor looked earnestly at the faces of the six men around him, as if
he would peer into their minds. Again he was undecided as to what
his immediate course of action should be. His first thought was to
defy these fanatics by flinging the phial into the fire. But as his
fingers closed upon the slender tube of glass, the mysterious prana
deep down in every healthy nature intervened to save him. An overt
act of that kind, as the faces around told him very surely, would
mean certain death.
At the call of an obscure law of being Endor slowly returned the
cylinder to its gun-metal sheath. And then fully sensible of six pairs
of eyes fixed upon him, he took from his breast pocket a cigarette
case and calmly placed within it this most deadly of weapons.
“Sir, you have until to-morrow Monday week at midnight,” were Lien
Weng’s final words.
Once more Endor looked at the circle of faces around him. Of the
thoughts they concealed he could glean nothing beyond a covert
hostility in the eyes of Bandar Ali and a look of deep anxiety in those
of George Hierons. The American was seated next to him. At this
terrible moment, in which Endor knew that his own death sentence
had been pronounced, and even in this most dangerous company,
he was not without a friend.
As Endor got up from the table he felt upon his arm a slight
pressure, soothing yet magnetic. It was as if that gentle touch spoke
its own silent message, “For heaven’s sake, my friend,” it seemed to
say, “do nothing hastily. Let your slightest action now be the fruit of
wisdom.”
In spite of this tacit prayer, Endor yielded to the all-powerful desire
now in his mind. He would fly at once from this house of ill omen.
Before he left the room, however, he was moved to speak again.
“One last word!” As Endor reached the door he turned swiftly to face
the men who were still seated at the table. “I believe,” he said, in a
voice strained and thin, “that Providence itself has given me a
means, a lawful means, of breaking this malign power which you
would have me unlawfully destroy. You, who at all costs are pledged
to conserve the peace of the world, cannot hope to gain your end by
secret murder. I beg you to give me a chance to prove that the
Divine Will is working for us and for all mankind.”
The passion of this last appeal drew no response from the six men
at the table. Mutely impassive they watched that rather wild figure
withdraw from the room.
Endor at once ordered his car. He was bent on going back to London
immediately. Not another hour could he endure the fetid air of
Busshe Court.
XLV
HELEN, meanwhile, was spending the week-end at Cloudesley. And
here, too, in the famous Midland home of a great political magnate,
certain strange things happened.
To begin with, Mrs. John Endor had to make the best excuses she
could for the non-arrival of her distinguished husband. He had
“chucked” at the last moment, and it was not easy to forget that
fact. The party was large and made up of heterogeneous elements.
But more than one of its members had looked forward to spending a
certain amount of time in the interesting company of the new Home
Secretary. Keen disappointment was expressed by host, hostess and
guests alike. Helen’s excuses for the absentee sounded in her own
ears rather hollow, but she had tact enough to make them sound
convincing in the ear of others.
All the same, her brief Saturday afternoon to Monday morning
sojourn in a huge barracks of a house was to prove a particularly
trying ordeal. Not that there was any lack of creature comforts. But
the ordeal might be said to begin shortly after seven o’clock, just as
she was about to ascend the famous white marble staircase to dress
for the evening meal. For it came to Helen like a veritable blow to
behold Saul Hartz, newly arrived, stride with an air of calm
proprietorship into the entrance hall.
At the sight of him, her heart gave a leap. This indeed, was a bird of
ill omen. She had not in the least expected him to be there. Not that
there was any reason why he shouldn’t be. He had the entrée to
nearly every house in England; and in most the art of the charmeur,
great when he chose to use it, and his range of information made
him a more than welcome guest. To Helen, however, it simply had
not occurred that she was likely to meet him. As disconsolately she
made a slow ascent of those imposing stairs, she could have wished
that the new Home Secretary had followed the practice of Royalty by
demanding a list of the people who had been invited to meet him!
To add to Helen’s embarrassment, it fell out that the Colossus took
her in to dinner. She would have given much merely to avoid talk
with him or even the lightest contact with his arm. Yet surely this
was Fate. And from Fate there can be no appeal. At the moment he
crossed the room to claim her with a bow and a smile, she felt in her
bones that this meeting had to be.
Since John had told her of the diabolical aspersions this man had
cast upon her good name, they had not met. In spite of all that she
owed Saul Hartz, and she still felt it was much, her resentment was
deep, just, implacable. Pride forbade the showing that her wound
was still raw, but she could not help letting him see, even had she
had the wish to prevent it, that she was now in the thrall of an icy
antagonism. And yet with what mastery, what subtle art was this
man able to toy with her fine feelings!
At the dinner table he was irresistible. She sought escape at first by
turning quickly to a pompous and monosyllabic politician seated at
the other side of her. But that didn’t answer. Even more than usual
Saul Hartz was dominant. When he liked to exert his great powers,
he was the most compelling man she had ever known. The fact that
he saw beyond his kind gave barbs to his wit, a depth to his insight,
spice to his knowledge, a form to his philosophy.
When this man unbent, there was none like him. Helen once again
had to render him that justice. With that strange, remote whisper he
could dominate half the large room if he chose; or if, as he now
preferred, he chose to confine himself to the young and singularly
attractive woman at his side, she, too, must yield to its mystic spells.
The Colossus was never more the Colossus than this evening. All
about him were mainly strangers—he was a man of many
acquaintances and no friends—and no doubt there were secret
enemies in their midst, but he paid them scant regard. He was
willing, more than willing, that “his dear Helen” should claim it all.
She fought against him, but it was no use. He spread before her the
jewels of his mind and her soul was dazzled. Ever and again, the
thought recurred to her that there was none like him. None could
there ever be. If demigods there were, to-night Saul Hartz was of
their kin.
From the very hour of their first meeting some two years ago at his
office in New York she had felt the sense of his power. And now
hating him implacably as she did and as she must, he seemed to be
raised to a power yet higher. His will, his courage, his imagination
made her think of him now as a latter-day Haroun-al-Raschid. But he
was something more. He saw beyond the Beyond. To Helen, as he
revealed himself in the course of this unforgettable evening, he was
like one who had rifled a sealed envelope and read its forbidden
contents.
His talk in its abandon was that of one who cares for none of the
world’s standards. It was the talk of one who defied God and man;
of one who looks beyond experience; of one who saw so much that
he accepted nothing. Deep in the heart of Helen was a desire to pity
him. He was indeed a figure for pity. A noble mind was straining its
moorings. Chartless, rudderless it might soon be out in an open sea.
In the two months that had passed since she had last talked with
Saul Hartz, a subtle change had taken place in him. Something had
happened to the man himself. Those hooded eyes still veiled their
fires, but in the face to which they lent a luster and a value was the
look of death. With a flash of vision it came upon Helen that the
Colossus was now living in its shadow.
That fact, if fact it was, explained the man to-night. He seemed to
know that the end was near. And it was as if he was trying not to
care. After all he had had a pretty good inning. He was only fifty-
four, still in the prime of his years as other men reckoned them, but
a single year as the Colossus lived it was more than a lustrum for
those of normal chemistry. Measured in terms of achievement, brain
tissue, dynamic power, the fifty-four years of Saul Hartz could be
multiplied by ten.
Slowly, with a stealth that at first she did not perceive, the spell of
an old fascination came again upon Helen. She did not forget his
depth of wickedness. With a shudder that had a tinge of joy she
recognized that the mind and will so delicately enfolding hers did evil
for the love of evil; but yet she felt, too, as she had always done,
that there was nothing ignoble in his choice of the baser part. At the
worst, it belonged to a false philosophy of life. It was part of his
giantism, his lust of power for power’s sake.
“All the silly gnats”—a big wine was in his glass—“all the silly gnats
who swarm in bus and tube, who line up in queues for theaters and
movies, who devour bookstalls and live on our headlines, well, well!
One-hell-of-a-muss, isn’t it, my dear? No place for people as sane as
you and me.”
She was left a little stunned by the logical ferocity of a mind so
modern, and yet so subversive of all things that seemed to make life
livable.
XLVI
AFTER dinner, in the privacy of an inner drawing room, Saul Hartz
sought Helen again. It was agony almost for her to be with him, to
hear his strange voice clothe yet stranger words; and yet it was a
form of experience that no constructive mind would ever willingly
forego. She was a woman of strong will, a woman sound in heart
and brain, but of a sudden there returned upon her the memory of
that night of subtle fear, some two months back, when she had paid
a surprise visit to Carlton House Terrace—that unforgettable night of
his dealing the man she loved a felon’s blow. Not then had she
known him for the thing he was. For her, at least, his purpose was
still masked. But now everything was clear. The hood had lifted, the
veil was rent. He stood forth, open and declared, an enemy of
mankind.
The knowledge filled Helen with curious emotion. She now felt the
challenge of his nature in a way that frightened her. Beside her sat
the very genius of negation. Was not she, too, just a poor silly gnat?
The sense of his sheer animal power made her almost long at this
moment to feel his arms about her; with his sorcery upon her she
half wished that his lips would crush out her life. And she knew that
she was powerless. As he sat very close to her in that cushioned
nook, she might have been under the spell of a fabulous monster.
Shivering with fear, she began to realize that her defenses were
failing. Raised to this pitch, such a creature was all that had been, all
that could ever be. Somehow she felt that the old prophecies were
true. The living, sentient being whose hand now held hers was the
incarnation of Evil.
Was he, to whom in the past she owed so much, about to amuse
himself in the rôle of Don Juan? Pray heaven he would be content
to-night with that of Lucifer! Oh, why had she come to this house?
Oh, why had she come there alone?
She felt the touch of a cool palm on her lightly clad knees. It
brought riot to her brain a hint of madness. She tried to free herself,
but laughingly he pinned her down. If she could but get away! Held
by his will she could hardly move or breathe. Was it possible, despite
all she could do, that he was about to make good his vile boast of
two months back? Where was the God in whom she believed? One
part of her mind besought that Friend who for her had always been
at the back of everything, while the other part glimpsed the joys of
surrender to one who had declared war upon authority.
With an insight which she felt to be terrifying, the Colossus was able
to read her thought. To him the human mind was an open page.
Looking deep into those honest eyes he smiled at the naked terror
that he saw there. With a softness more than feline he began to
stroke the delicate fabric of crêpe de chine that so inefficiently
covered her. “If I ask you to put your arms about my neck and kiss
me, what will you do?” Not by the lips was that speech uttered, but
by eyes that glowed and burned like those which glow and burn in
jungle grass.
She tried again to get away. But with the flick of a paw he cast her
back to her cushions and held her. “One can never understand,” he
purred with an odd gentleness whose effect upon her was as wine
and music, “why a creature of your intelligence, and particularly a
woman, should ever truly believe that Right must triumph and
Wrong must fail.”
“One does believe it, all the same.”
His laugh drove the blood from her heart. “And that is so amazing!
Look at this horrible world we live in for our sins, and tell me quite
honestly if there is any evidence at all of a power more benign than
an impersonal, blind, animal force? The wind blows, the clouds rain,
the stars shine. Some of us who are geared high smoke big cigars
and own newspapers; some of us, geared not so high, are women
broken in body and soul, whose daughters are on the streets and
whose sons have been condemned by the State to the battue. So
much, my dear girl, for this God of yours! On this little planet, you
can’t tell me, He is making any headway at all.”
She felt as if he had hit her in the face. “I do believe,” she gasped.
“And—and—no matter what happens”—his grip was on her shrinking
knees—“to me—or to mine—I shall go on believing.”
“And I shall go on disbelieving.” He chuckled softly. “All the same, I
like your pluck!” The father was speaking again to a favorite
daughter. Helen shivered at the intolerable memories wrought by
that tone. “How well you fight with your back to the wall.” He raised
her hand in his and pressed his lips upon it lightly. “I respect your
courage.” Voice and smile grew even more paternal. “And between
ourselves, that is the only thing in the life one knows that one does
respect. Courage. That alone is sacred. Courage. No matter when,
no matter where one meets that, one pays homage.”
Smiling at his thoughts, he got up from the sofa on which they sat.
As he stood before her in the arrogance of his mental and physical
power, she could not kill a sense, try to stifle it as she would, that
here perhaps was the noblest thing on which her eyes had looked.
He still kept close track of her mind. “Bless you, dear child!” She felt
his eyes pass through her like a sword, and she bit her lip in an
agony that had a touch of ecstasy. And then came terror again. She
fought against a sob she could not control. Hearing it, he sighed
tenderly. “One mustn’t hurt you too much,” he said, half to himself.
“You’ve always been a particularly nice girl. I have always liked you.”
His voice had grown gentle, charming, whimsical. “Good luck. Bon
voyage. You are a good woman. Your husband is a good man. And I
am a very, very bad one. But please remember that it is against all
experience to suppose that the bad people don’t come out on top.
Believe me, they always do—and they always must.”
XLVII
THAT night Helen slept little. Her talk with Saul Hartz had proved
cruelly disturbing to the mind and to the emotions. She was haunted
by it. For hours she lay awake thinking of this man who had played
so strange a part in her life. Seeing him now as the thing he truly
was, her fear of him was unnerving. It troubled her that they should
be under one roof. She had an insurgent desire to seek at once the
safety of her home. There could be no rest for her until she had
returned to that haven and to the man she loved.
Much of the next day, Sunday, was spent in active dread of the
Colossus and a desire to avoid him. Helen mixed freely with the
other guests. She went to church in the morning, she played bridge
in the afternoon and by every means that was open to her she took
precaution against being caught unawares. The last thing she
desired was another tête-à-tête with Saul Hartz.
In her present emotional state she was met with one harsh fact. For
some reason she was now the prey of a secret fear. An unknown
force had invaded her life. Suddenly the future had become an
abyss. To such an extent was she possessed by a sense of the
impending, that it was as if a sword was about to fall.
What this menace could be she was without means of knowing. But
it was surely there, a phantom perhaps of an overdriven brain. At
least Helen hoped that it might prove no worse than that. Certainly
as far as she was aware, it had no ground in reason or logic, and
was, therefore, without the stay of fact.
Color, however, was lent to this new fear in a rather odd way. Among
her fellow week-end guests was a man named Wygram. The
personality of this man excited Helen’s curiosity. She had never met
any one like him. A rather exotic, oriental appearance seemed to
lend value and emphasis to his views on occultism, mental telepathy,
thought transference and kindred subjects which were now so much
in the air, and upon which, in an unobtrusive way, he seemed to be a
veritable mine of information.
After Helen had spent an entrancing hour in talk with Mr. Wygram,
she gleaned from her hostess by dint of judicious inquiry that he was
now recognized the world over as an authority upon the Unseen.
She learned further that this remarkable man had found a solution to
more than one mystery that seemed impenetrable and that the
police often had recourse to his services.
This view of Wygram’s unique powers was supported by the
attention paid him by Saul Hartz. It was never a habit of the
Colossus to flatter the vanity of his fellow men by sitting in public at
the feet of Gamaliel. But it was clear to Helen that the orientalist had
some potent attraction for him. More than once in the course of that
day she saw the two men together in quiet corners. And to judge by
the look of concentration on Mr. Hartz’s face the subject of their talk
was to him of vital concern.
At dinner, no doubt as a concession to the keen curiosity Helen had
shown in regard to Mr. Wygram, she was taken in by him. Further
acquaintance did but add to the interest he excited in her. Little
passed between them that average people could have laid hold of as
definitely enlarging the boundaries of human knowledge, but Helen
felt all the same that her approach to certain subjects whose
importance and value she could but vaguely surmise would from
now on be more practical, more scientific, more expert.
“How far do you think it possible,” she ventured to ask, “for one
mind, or for a group of minds, to act subconsciously upon the mind
of another person, without coming into direct contact with it, in
order to control its actions?”
“An interesting speculation!” Wygram spoke with the simple candor
of one very much a master of his subject. “I think myself the science
—and as one happens to know, a dark and terrible science it is,
which the East has already brought to an uncanny perfection—of
imposing one’s will upon the will of another is being developed to a
point which threatens some very ugly developments.”
“That is just what one feels oneself,” said Helen.
“Only the other day,” said Wygram, “I was called in by the New York
police to help in a terrible case which has made a great impression
over there. It was that of a man, otherwise presumably sane, who
committed a perfectly senseless and illogical crime because a deadly
enemy, an expert practitioner of the new science, had been able to
tamper with the mind of that man subconsciously while he slept.”
“How dreadful!”
Wygram agreed that the speculations opened up by a fact so sinister
were not pleasant. “The whole world is on the down grade,” he said.
“Man has played things up too high. For many years he has been
dealing with unclean things—subtle poisons, high explosives, black
magic. But to my mind this new science which has come out of the
East is the worst of all, because it is by far the most elusive.”
“Can it be used, do you suppose, on a large scale?”
“The fear is that it can be,” said Wygram, “and that it will be. An
unlucky signalman the other day at Hellington had a lapse of
memory. The London express ran into a goods train that was being
shunted out of a siding. Such a thing, in normal circumstances,
should never occur. By reason of it, sixteen people were killed and
sixty-eight injured. Among the killed were the Chancellor of the
Exchequer and a Judge of the High Court. Accident, says the world.
A rub of the green, say the directors of the railway company. Fate,
say the newspapers. Call it what you will, but at the point the
perverted mind of man has now reached, who shall say what the
real cause was? Perhaps a certain very distinguished Chinese thinker
now in this country might be able to throw a new light on a terrible
occurrence.” At the look of horror in the eyes of the woman at his
side, Wygram paused. “Mind you,” he said, “one does not for a
moment accept all the implications that such a theory may open up.
Let the possibility be advanced just for what it is worth. And I
think”—his voice grew very gentle—“it would have been kinder, and
perhaps wiser, not to have advanced such a possibility at all.”
“Your studies have made you pessimistic,” said Helen, hoping this
was a straw to which she might cling.
“Yes, I quite think so,” Wygram agreed. “Every mind becomes
subdued to that in which it works. But I do feel that human life was
never exposed to so many hidden perils as to-day.”
“One feels that, too,” said Helen. “Indeed,”—she shivered slightly
—“the truth of that somehow strikes to one’s marrow.”
As she spoke, she was sharply aware that the man at her side was
looking at her with a grave curiosity.
“Forgive the question,” he said, in his soft voice, “if it should seem
impertinent,—but do you say that as a private member of the
community, or as the wife of a man to whom so many eyes now turn
in the hope that he may be able to do a great and much needed
work for us all?”
Girt by the thought that Saul Hartz was at another table and that no
fragment of their talk was likely to reach his ear, Helen confessed
that she was now haunted, not so much on her own account as on
that of her husband, by a great fear.
Something in her manner seemed to impress Wygram deeply. “Tell
me,” he said, in a voice hardly above a whisper, “just what it is that
you fear in regard to him in the near future?”
“It is too vague to be put into words,” said Helen, anxiously. But
again she shivered, and again Wygram looked at her with his
questioning eyes.
He forbore, however, from pressing the point further. So sharp was
her distress that he gave the subject an adroit turn, and did not
refer to it again. But this talk, all the same, made a profound
impression upon Helen.
Next morning she breakfasted early, at the beck of a strong desire to
catch the first possible train. London, her home, her husband were
calling her. A second night of very little sleep had made Cloudesley
and its surroundings almost intolerable. She was oppressed by a
sense of being urgently needed elsewhere. Hour by hour, a
conviction had gained strength in her mind that something was
about to happen to John.
Perhaps “the something” had happened already. Who could say? An
obsession seized her that such was the case. At all events, the
breaking of his engagement for the week-end, without being able to
give a reason, a proceeding altogether unlike him, lent color to this
new and harsh belief. Both Hartz and Wygram, men whose every
word meant much, had dropped more than one hint that her
husband was in the toils of ineluctable fate.
Helen could not hope for peace of mind until she was back in
Brompton Square. And soon after half past eight, as she crossed the
hall to the car which was to take her to the station, with every
thought fixed upon getting away from this hive of unpleasant
memories, a simple thing happened which yet seemed to add
tenfold to her fears.
Wygram, who was just coming down to breakfast, intercepted her at
the foot of the stairs. “Good-by, my dear Mrs. Endor,” he said, in a
cordial tone. And then in one much lower, but of vital urgency, “Take
care of your husband. The world has need of him. And if in the
course of the next few days you feel you must have a friend whom
you can really trust, please remember your compatriot, George
Hierons, who, I believe, is still in London. It may be, of course, that
the need will not arise. Sincerely one hopes it may not. But if it does,
consult him. Again, good-by!”
These cryptic words did not lessen Helen’s alarm. More than ever
she was convinced that something had happened or was about to
happen to the man she loved.
XLVIII
IT was within a few minutes of one o’clock when Helen reached
Brompton Square. Of the maid who opened the door she inquired
eagerly for Mr. Endor.
The fever of her mind was such that it felt a keen relief from the
mere fact of John being in his room at work. She flew to him. But
the feeling of joy left her the moment she entered the room. He was
pacing heavily up and down in a way that brought to her mind a wild
animal in a cage. His hands were clenched behind him, and his eyes,
rather weird in their intensity, lent a look of strangeness to a
haggard face.
So strong was the thrall upon him that even Helen’s sudden
appearance in the room did not cause him to throw it off. She could
hardly bear to see his face. It was that of a man whose nerves had
been deranged by the sight of a ghost. Indeed, when he stopped at
last and turned towards Helen, there was something in that face
which seemed to drive the blood from her heart.
“Darling!” she gasped as her hands clasped his coat, “tell me—tell
me what is the matter? Why do you look like that? What awful thing
has happened?”
He did not answer. She repeated the question with a tenser anxiety.
“What is the matter? Do tell me!”
It was impossible for him to do so. In the urgency of the moment he
did what he could to keep back the truth. But at the best, it was a
lame, clumsy, half-hearted effort.
“You think you may have caught a slight chill motoring into the
country yesterday?” An explanation so feeble could but add fuel to
Helen’s incredulity. Something far beyond that poor excuse was
called for by those wild eyes and ashen cheeks.
“Not that I’m really ill,” he managed to say. But the voice was not
his. Hollow, spectral, thin, it might have been a ghost’s.
She knew that he was ill indeed. Eyes of despair, now palpably
shrinking from contact with hers, told her too clearly that he was
suffering from a grave malady. Moreover she knew he was trying his
utmost to conceal the fact from her.
Suddenly her eye lit on a sheet of foolscap lying on the carpet. In
the agitation of the moment it had drifted, no doubt, from his writing
table. It was covered with recent writing which had been left to dry.
As Helen picked up this document, she glanced at it, almost without
a thought of what she did. A swift intuition told her that this was no
ordinary paper.
He had been making his will!
“Why not?” He tried for a light and whimsical inflection, with which
to turn aside that startled accusation. The failure to achieve it was
complete. In fact, it was so complete that in the ear of Helen it
sounded rather ghastly.
“Something awful has happened,” she said. “I feel sure of it.”
The alarm in her eyes, her note of fierce conviction, was becoming
too much for him. Even if he owed it to her to carry the thing off
bravely, in a fashion that would spare her infinite pain, he soon
began to realize that in his present shattered state such a task was
beyond him.
For the time being, she was stronger than he. Face to face with
death he had made up his mind to accept it with stoicism, but the
importunity of the woman he adored overcame him now. At first, he
had been fully determined to tell her nothing. The concealed rock
which had shattered a fine career should remain undisclosed. But he
saw that it would be inhuman to meet death in silence and in
secrecy, even had such a course been feasible.
How much should he tell? That was his problem. She was his wife,
and had a right to know all. He had made, it was true, certain
solemn vows. But these, as he now saw, had been entered upon in
an evil hour. Therefore, he must break these vows and pay for the
privilege with his life. But the question remained, how much would it
be expedient to tell her?
One fact he did not doubt. Enemies, terrible and implacable, would
be ranged against him. And if they should once suspect that their
secrets had been divulged to Helen, her life, too, would not be worth
a moment’s purchase.
In spite of that, however, embarked on his strange story, he found it
beyond his power to withhold any material detail. It became a sheer
impossibility to choose or select. All had to be known, once the die
was cast. Listening in grief and horror to a narrative of events which
began with John’s rooted conviction that the world was now at grips
with a terrible evil, Helen was yet able in some measure to impose
her will upon the man she loved. A deep instinct told her that the
only hope of saving his life lay with her; and if so frail a chance was
to be fruitful, she must acquaint herself with all the strands of the
coil in which he was involved.
XLIX
AT the end of a story which, halting and fragmentary as it was, took
some time to tell, Helen felt shattered. Deprived of the power to act
or to think consecutively, all the force of a strong will was needed to
sustain her. The awful Nemesis which had overtaken a phase of
passing weakness in a good and brave man struck at her heart; but
in the end it was perhaps as much as anything the sense of Fate’s
injustice that roused her fighting spirit.
With all the facts of the case before her, and once the control of her
nerves had been regained, Helen soon made up her mind. Be the
cost what it might, her husband’s life should not be thrown away. By
nature and temperament a woman of action, she was accustomed to
reach quick and bold decisions. And in the moment her resolve was
taken it was fortified by a sudden recollection of Wygram’s final
words. “If, in the course of the next few days, you feel you must
have a friend whom you can really trust, please remember your
compatriot, George Hierons, who, I believe, is still in London.”
Such words seemed truly prophetic. And as they came back to
Helen’s mind, she was upheld by a deep faith that John and she
were not to be abandoned in this hour of strife against the powers
of darkness. Providence was surely at their side. It was working for
them. Counsel and sympathy had come to her mysteriously, but she
recognized the source whence it sprang. Behind the phenomena of
appearances there was somewhere a Friend. And that Friend,
whoever, whatever it might be, she felt was going to help them now.
Luncheon was a miserable and belated meal. For both it was but a
hollow pretense. They were in such a febrile state of anxiety that the
mere presence of food was almost unbearable. But seated at the
table, crumbling bread and sipping water, Helen was able to do a
certain amount of thinking. At the end of this Barmecide feast, when
she rose and left the dining room, a kind of plan was already taking
shape in her mind.
All the facts of the case, which with infinite difficulty she had been
able to drag out of John, were now more or less clear. They were
marshaled in definite order, they fell into a logical scheme. It now
remained for her to act without an instant’s delay upon the data she
had so painfully gathered. And yet to move at all in such a matter
called for rare courage, high devotion.
At his wife’s entreaty, Endor went down to the House of Commons
as soon as luncheon was over. Her clear good sense, upon which he
now leaned heavily, saw that for him in so terrible a crisis the
paramount need was to keep at work. She divined that the only
chance he had of holding on to the will was to occupy himself as
much as possible. In such a crisis any form of brooding or inaction
would be fatal.
For her, anything of that kind would be fatal, too. She must not look
before or after. It was like crossing an abyss on a narrow plank. Her
resolve taken, her plan formed, one pang of indecision might
paralyze a nerve upon which all chance of safety depended. And she
must act without an instant’s delay.
She listened for the click of the front door. And then from the
discreet ambush of the charming new curtains of that singularly
pleasant room, in which so lately as two days ago, each individual
object had been a thing of delight, she watched her husband’s tall
and picturesque figure disappear round the corner of the Square into
the Brompton Road. Then she went to the telephone at once and
rang up Freeman’s Hotel.
It seemed an age before her demand to speak with Mr. Hierons
could be met. A voice was not sure whether Mr. Hierons was now
staying at the hotel, but it would find out. He had been away some
days and the voice rather fancied that he had not yet returned.
Minutes passed. And then in the midst of a baffled impotence that
was almost a fever now, to Helen’s unspeakable relief, a tone she
faintly recognized said, “Are you there?”
George Hierons was speaking. If Mrs. Endor cared to come round at
once to the hotel he would be glad to wait in for her.
L
ON the way to Freeman’s Hotel in a taxi, Helen did her best to
remember that she still lived and moved and had her being in
twentieth century London. She tried hard to keep all the simple and
familiar realities before her mind. Everything looked so oddly
different now from what it had done less than three hours ago when
she had driven west from St. Pancras station, that such a ritual
seemed necessary. She was plunged in a state of affairs whose
fantastic horror it was hardly possible for a mind so sane as hers to
exaggerate. It was like living in a nightmare, except that it was
much more vivid. But when everything around, the rattle of the taxi,
the London mud, the raw air, had convinced her that she was truly
awake, she might have bartered her immortal soul to believe
otherwise.
George Hierons, who was living en suite, received Helen in his own
private sitting room. He greeted her with a cordial tenderness which
could only have sprung from the regard of an honest and a good
man. Yet hardly a glance was needed to tell her that not a little of
her own acute distress was shared by a true friend.
The face of George Hierons was that of a highly sensitive man who
was suffering acutely. His visitor was struck by a tragic change in his
appearance. Eyes and cheeks had deep hollows, their lines a look of
age that mere years did not warrant; and underlying a strong and
beautiful face was a torment of pain, stifled and repressed, that
Helen could not bear to see.
She had the courage to begin with a conventional remark. But
Hierons at once made clear that there was no need to withhold
anything. He took her hands gently in his own.
“You have done a wise thing in coming to see me,” he said without a
word of preface. “Tell me just how much you know.”
Helen hesitated. John had revealed much as to the workings of the
Society, but he had been careful not to disclose the names of its
members. She had strong reason to suspect that Hierons belonged
to it, but until she was quite sure it would be the height of folly to
lay her cards on the table.
“You may tell me all,” he said, reading her thoughts without
difficulty. “I was with the Council so recently as half past eleven this
morning—if it is any satisfaction to you to know that.”
“That is to say you belong?”
“Yes,” he said, again taking her hands.
She could not hide the look of frank horror that came into her eyes.
Her impulse was to draw away from him as if he had been a thing
unclean. Man of fine perceptions as he was, he yielded instantly to
her emotion, not trying to combat it, but stepping back a pace with
a slight bow.
“You see,” he said in a low voice, “the stake we play for is the
highest there is. All that we do, all that we have done, all that we
hope to do, is dictated by the faith that the peace of the world
depends upon us.”
“Do you still believe that?” asked Helen, looking at him steadily.
He did not answer at once.
With an insurgency of feeling, an odd tightening of her throat and
breast, she repeated her question.
“Yes,” he said. “That is still our position.”
“You honestly think,” said Helen, “that evil can be met with evil? You
think that murder can prevent murder?”
“In certain extreme cases,” said Hierons, “we hold that view. The
Church has failed, Christianity is a back number, one after another
the higher moral sanctions are going by the board. Human society is
very sick indeed. Only a desperate remedy can save it.”
Helen looked bleakly at Hierons. But she didn’t speak.
“The root of the trouble,” Hierons went on, “is that it is still in the
power of certain people, of one man if you like, to unchain forces
more terrible than the earth has yet known. This unlucky planet of
ours is entering upon a new phase. Unless steps, drastic and
immediate, are taken to bring under control those who now govern
it, the human race may soon be faced with a catastrophe beside
which all its other catastrophes—and Heaven knows what they have
been in the immemorial past!—may appear of small account.”
The grim intensity of her countryman’s earnestness kept Helen
silent. He paused a few seconds that she might say something, but
she chose not to speak.
“I intend to take you fully into my confidence,” said Hierons with the
childlike simplicity of a great mind. “Our Society which we believe to
include the flower of the world’s creative wisdom takes no narrow or
partial view. It sees the human race now at the mercy of a particular
type of brain and that type is peculiarly ignoble. It sees other and
finer types, developed on lines less grossly material, with but little
chance against this archetype whose gospel is the cynical application
of brute force. The weaker or more delicate types—so far as our
Society can read world tendencies—are fighting a losing battle with
their backs against the wall. In other words, so far as this unhappy
time is concerned, Evil is stronger than Good.”
“Hasn’t it always been so?” said Helen.
“More or less, I agree. But human ingenuity has now entered a
phase which is a direct menace to evolution itself. Never has it been
so imperative that those who do evil for the love of evil should be
brought under control.”
“Surely,” said Helen, “that control can only be acquired by invoking
the spirit of Right.”
“True. And our Society, odd as the fact may seem to the uninitiate,
exists for that very purpose.”
Helen’s face showed a frank incredulity. “You would have one
believe,” she said, with a thrill of horror in her voice, “that people are
murdered secretly in the name of the Most High?”
“Murder is a harsh word. But as you say,” Hierons went on in a stern,
solemn tone, “the Society’s every act is dictated by the aim it has in
view. ‘God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.’”
“To me,” said Helen with a little gasp of horror, “that sounds very like
blasphemy.”
“No, no!” said Hierons. “Consider the problem the world has now to
face. It is all very well to say that faith will move mountains, but
when Good is being done inevitably to death by the massed forces
of Evil, it is for those of us who dare to believe that the world may
yet be saved for mankind to use to the best of our skill what
weapons the stronger power may have left us.”
“Or to put it in another way,” said Helen, who was following a
singular argument closely, “believing as your Society does that this
earth of ours is now ruled by the spirit of Evil, in order to restore the
balance of power it is necessary in the most literal fashion to break
the Sixth Commandment.”
“Yes,” said Hierons. “But only in the last resort. And such are the
basic conditions which now govern the world that no other
alternative is left to the Friends of Peace. Let us take a concrete
instance. Saul Hartz has the power with the terrible machine he
controls to bring about war between Britain and America. And the
best informed people firmly believe that he will do so.”
“But why should he? The power of the Universal Press is almost as
great in one country as in the other.”
“True. And there’s the rub. The American Senate has recently
decided to take strong action against the International Newspaper
Ring. Certain trust laws, more or less obsolete, are going to be