Berry and Co.
by Dornford Yates · English · Gutenberg #17469 · 539,932 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Berry and Co.
Author: Dornford Yates
Release date: January 5, 2006 [eBook #17469]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17469
Credits: Produced by Hilary Caws-Elwitt, in honor of Peter Caws
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BERRY AND CO. ***
Produced by Hilary Caws-Elwitt, in honor of Peter Caws
BERRY AND CO.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
_Published by Ward, Lock & Co.:--_
BERRY AND CO.
JONAH AND CO.
MAIDEN STAKES.
THE STOLEN MARCH.
ANTHONY LYVEDEN.
VALERIE FRENCH.
AND FIVE WERE FOOLISH.
AS OTHER MEN ARE.
THE BROTHER OF DAPHNE.
THE COURTS OF IDLENESS.
_Published by Hodder & Stoughton:--_
BLIND CORNER.
PERISHABLE GOODS.
BLOOD ROYAL.
FIRE BELOW.
ADÈLE AND CO.
BERRY AND CO.
BY
DORNFORD YATES
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY PURNELL AND SONS
PAULTON (SOMERSET) AND LONDON
_DEAR VALERIE,_
_When a writer admits that he has an affection
for something which he has written, it is high time to
pray for his soul. Yet I make bold to confess that
there are in this book some passages which I hold dear--a
seeming vanity, which must be explained._
_Many times you have found me at work upon these
chapters. Often you have taken ill-written pages of
manuscript from my table and, sitting down in a chair,
deciphered them for what they were worth. Once or
twice, whilst you read, you have fallen into silvery
laughter._
_Do you wonder that I treasure the sentences which
drew forth such music?_
_This is my dedication._
_As many as see you are glad of the sight. All who
know you are proud of the honour. But the man
whose efforts your mirth has commended is the proudest
and happiest of the lot._
_Need I say that your name is not Valerie? I
think not. You will know whom I mean._
_Most faithfully yours,_
_DORNFORD YATES._
_Pau, November, 1920._
CONTENTS
I HOW WILL NOGGIN WAS FOOLED, AND BERRY
RODE FORTH AGAINST HIS WILL
II HOW DAPHNE WROTE FOR ASSISTANCE, AND
MR. HOLLY WAS OUTBID
III HOW A MAN MAY FOLLOW HIS OWN HAT, AND
BERRY TOOK A LAMP IN HIS HAND
IV HOW NOBBY CAME TO SLEEP UPON MY BED, AND
BERRY FELL AMONG THIEVES
V HOW JILL'S EDUCATION WAS IMPROVED, AND
DAPHNE GAVE HER HUSBAND THE SLIP
VI HOW NOBBY ATTENDED A WEDDING, AND BERRY
SPOKE NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH
VII HOW JONAH OBEYED HIS ORDERS, AND DAPHNE
AND KATHARINE FESTIVAL BACKED THE
SAME HORSE
VIII HOW JILL SLEPT UNDISTURBED, AND NOBBY
ATTENDED CHURCH PARADE
IX HOW ADÈLE FESTE ARRIVED, AND MR. DUNKELSBAUM
SUPPED WITH THE DEVIL
X HOW ADÈLE BROKE HER DREAM, AND VANDY
PLEYDELL TOOK EXERCISE
XI HOW NOBBY MET BLUE BANDALA, AND ADÈLE
GAVE JONAH A KISS
CHAPTER I
HOW WILL NOGGIN WAS FOOLED, AND BERRY RODE FORTH AGAINST HIS WILL.
"Who's going to church?" said Daphne, consulting her wrist-watch.
There was a profound silence.
My sister turned to Jill.
"Are you coming?" she said. "Berry and I are."
"I beg your pardon," said her husband.
"Of course you're coming," said Daphne.
"Not in these trousers. This is the first time I've worn them, and I'm
not going to kneel in them for any one."
"Then you'll change," said his wife. "You've plenty of time."
Berry groaned.
"This is sheer Bolshevism," he said. "Is not my soul my own?"
"We shall start," said Daphne, "in twenty minutes."
It was nearly half-past ten in the morning of a beautiful summer day,
and we were all taking our ease in the sunshine upon the terrace. It was
the first Sunday which we had spent all together at White Ladies for
nearly five years.
So far as the eye could see, nothing had changed.
At the foot of the steps the great smooth lawn stretched like a fine
green carpet, its shadowed patches yet bright with dew. There were the
tall elms and the copper beech and all the proud company of spreading
giants--what were five years to them? There was the clump of
rhododendrons, a ragged blotch of crimson, seemingly spilled upon the
green turf, and there the close box hedge that walled away the
rose-garden. Beyond the sunk fence a gap showed an acre or so of Bull's
Mead--a great deep meadow, and in it two horses beneath a chestnut tree,
their long tails a-swish, sleepily nosing each other to rout the flies;
while in the distance the haze of heat hung like a film over the rolling
hills. Close at hand echoed the soft impertinence of a cuckoo, and two
fat wood-pigeons waddled about the lawn, picking and stealing as they
went. The sky was cloudless, and there was not a breath of wind.
The stable clock chimed the half-hour.
My sister returned to the attack.
"Are you coming, Boy?"
"Yes," said I. "I am."
Berry sat up and stared at me.
"Don't be silly," he said. "There's a service this morning. Besides,
they've changed the lock of the poor-box."
"I want to watch the Vicar's face when he sees you," said I.
"It will be a bit of a shock," said Jonah, looking up from the paper.
"Is his heart all right?"
"Rotten," said Daphne. "But that doesn't matter. I sent him a note to
warn him yesterday."
"What did you say?" demanded her husband.
"I said, '_We're back at last, and--don't faint--we're all coming to
Church to-morrow, and you've got to come back to lunch._' And now, for
goodness' sake, go and change."
"But we shall perspire," said Berry. "Profusely. To walk half a mile in
this sun is simply asking for it. Besides----"
"What's the car done?" said Jonah. "I'm going, and I can't hurry with
this." He tapped his short leg affectionately. "We needn't take Fitch.
Boy or I can drive."
"Right oh," said my sister, rising. "Is ten-minutes-to early enough?"
Jonah nodded.
"This," said Berry, "is a conspiracy for which you will all pay.
Literally. I shall take the plate round, and from you four I shall
accept nothing but paper. Possibly I shall----"
Here the girls fell upon him and bore him protesting into the house and
out of earshot.
"Who's going to look after the car while we're in church?" said I.
"There's sure to be somebody ready to earn a couple of bob," said Jonah.
"Besides, we can always disconnect the north-east trunnion, or jack her
up and put the wheels in the vestry or something."
"All right. Only we don't want her pinched." With a yawn I rose to my
feet. "And now I suppose I'd better go and turn her out."
"Right oh," said Jonah, picking up his paper again.
I strolled into the house.
We were proud of the car. She was a 1914 Rolls, and we had bought her at
a long price less than a week ago. Fresh from the coach-builder's, her
touring body was painted silver-grey, while her bonnet was of polished
aluminium. Fitted with every conceivable accessory, she was very
good-looking, charming alike to ride or drive, and she went like the
wind. In a word, she did as handsome as she was.
It was eight minutes to eleven as we slid past the lodge and on to the
Bilberry road.
Before we had covered two furlongs, we swung round a corner to see a
smart two-seater at rest by the dusty hedgerow, and a slight dark girl
in fresh blue and white standing with one foot on the step, wiping her
dainty fingers on a handful of cotton-waste.
"Agatha!" cried Daphne and Jill. "Stop, Boy, stop!"
Obediently I slowed to a standstill, as my lady came running after us.
"You might have told me," she panted. "I never knew you were back. And I
am so glad."
"We only arrived on Friday, dear," said Daphne, and introduced Berry and
me. Jonah, it appeared, had met Miss Deriot at tennis in 1914.
"But you had your hair down then," he said gravely.
"It's a wonder I haven't got it down now," said Miss Deriot. "Why didn't
you come along ten minutes earlier? Then you could have changed my
tire."
"And why are you driving away from church?" said Jill.
"One of the colts has sprained his shoulder, and we're out of
embrocation; so I'm going to get some from Brooch."
"I'll come with you," said Berry eagerly, preparing to leave the car. "I
don't like to think of you----"
"Nonsense," said Daphne, detaining him.
"But supposing she has another puncture?"
"Yes, I can see you mending it on a day like this."
"It's very kind of you," said Miss Deriot, with a puzzled smile.
"Don't thank the fool," said my sister. "If I thought he'd be the
slightest use to you, I'd send him; but he only wants an excuse to get
out of going to church."
"Poor Jade," said her husband. "I am a knight, a simple starlit knight,
a Quixote of to-day. Your brutish instincts----"
"Carry on, Boy," said Daphne. I let in the clutch. "And come over this
afternoon, Agatha, and we'll tell you all about everything."
"Yes, do," cried Jill.
"All right," said Miss Deriot. "So long."
Three minutes later I was berthing the car close to the lich-gate in the
shade of sweet-smelling limes, that made a trembling screen of foliage
within the churchyard wall.
As luck would have it, Will Noggin, once a groom in our service and now
a trooper of the Dragoon Guards, was leaning lazily against the grey
wall, taking his ease. As we drew abreast of him, he stood to attention
and saluted, a pleased grin of recognition lighting his healthy face. We
greeted him gladly.
"Glad to see you're all right, Will," said Jill.
"Thank you, miss."
"Aren't you going to church?" said Daphne.
"Not to-day, m'm. I'm on leave, and I've 'ad my share o' church parades
i' the last four years, m'm."
We all laughed.
"Well, if you're not going," said I, "we want some one to keep an eye on
the car."
"I'll do it gladly, sir."
"Right oh! She's a pretty piece of goods, isn't she?"
"She is that, sir," said Will, visibly impressed.
As I followed the others into the porch, I glanced back to see our
sentinel walking about his charge, bending an appreciative gaze upon her
points.
They were singing the _Venite_.
On the ledge of our old pew lay a note addressed to "Major Pleydell" in
the Vicar's handwriting. When Berry had read it he passed it to Daphne,
and I was able to read it over her shoulder.
_DEAR MAJOR,_
_Sometimes in the old days you used to read the Lessons. I think we
should all like it if you would do so to-day; but don't, if you don't
want to._
_Yours very sincerely,_
_JOHN BAGOT._
In a postscript the writer named the appointed passages of Holy Writ.
So soon as the first Psalm had started Berry stepped to the lectern,
found his places and cast his eye over the text. Before the second Psalm
was finished, he was once more in his place.
Doors and windows were open as wide as they could be set, and the little
church was flooded with light and fresh warm air, that coaxed the edge
from the chill of thick stone walls and pillars, and made the frozen
pavements cool and refreshing. Mustiness was clean gone, swept from her
frequent haunts by the sweet breath of Nature. The "dim, religious
light" of Milton's ordering was this day displaced by Summer's honest
smile, simpler maybe, but no less reverent. And, when the singing was
stilled, you overheard the ceaseless sleepy murmur of that country choir
of birds and beasts and insects that keeps its rare contented symphony
for summer days in which you can find no fault.
My impious eye wandered affectionately over familiar friends--the old
oak pews, almost chin-high, the Spanish organ, the reluctant gift of a
proud galleon wrecked on the snarling coast ten miles away, the old
"three-decker" with its dull crimson cushions and the fringed cloths
that hung so stiffly. A shaft of sunlight beat full on an old black
hatchment, making known the faded quarterings, while, underneath, a
slender panel of brass, but two years old, showed that the teaching of
its grim forbear had not been vain.
For so fair a morning, Bilberry village had done well. The church was
two-thirds full, and, though there were many strange faces, it was
pleasant here and there to recognize one we had known in the old days,
and to learn from an involuntary smile that we had not been forgotten.
It was just after the beginning of the Second Lesson that we heard the
engine start. There was no mistaking the purr of our Rolls-Royce. For a
second the girls and Jonah and I stared at one another, panic-stricken.
Then with one impulse we all started instinctively to our feet. As I
left the pew I heard Daphne whisper, "Hsh! We can't all----" and she and
Jonah and Jill sank back twittering. Berry's eyes met mine for an
instant as I stepped into the aisle. They spoke volumes, but to his
eternal credit his voice never faltered.
I almost ran to the porch, and I reached the lich-gate to see our
beautiful car, piloted by a man in a grey hat, scudding up the straight
white road, while in her wake tore a gesticulating trooper, shouting
impotently, ridiculously out-distanced. Even as I watched, the car
flashed round a bend and disappeared.
For a moment I stood still in the middle of the road, stupefied. Then I
heard a horn sounded behind me, and I mechanically stepped to one side.
Fifty yards away was the two-seater we had encountered on our way to
church.
Frantically I signalled to the girl at the wheel. As I did so, a burst
of music signified that the Second Lesson had come to an end.
"Whatever's the matter?" cried Miss Deriot, as she pulled up.
"Somebody's pinched the Rolls. Will you----"
"Of course. Get in. Which way did they go?"
"Straight ahead," said I, opening the door.
We were well under way before I had taken my seat. As we came to the
bend I threw a glance over my shoulder, to see four figures that I knew
standing without the lich-gate. They appeared to be arguing. As we
turned the corner a stentorian voice yelled--
"The Bloodstock road, sir! I can see their blinkin' dust."
Perched on one of the lower branches of a wayside oak, Will Noggin was
pointing a shaking finger in the direction he named.
* * * * *
We were less than three miles from Bloodstock when the off hind tire
burst. Miss Deriot brought the car to the side of the road and stopped
in the shadow of an old barn.
"That," she said, "has just done it."
I opened the door and stepped down into the road.
"It means a delay when we least want it," said I ruefully.
"Worse. I've had one burst already, and I only brought one spare wheel."
I whistled.
"Then we are indeed done," said I. "I'm awfully sorry. Heaven knows how
far you are from your home. This comes of helping a comparative
stranger. Let it be a lesson to you."
My companion smiled.
"I don't mind for myself," she said, "but what about your car?"
I spread out my hands.
"Reason dictates that I should foot-slog it to Bloodstock and try and
get the police moving; but I can't leave you here."
"You can easily, but you're not going to. I don't want to sit here for
the rest of the day." She pointed to the barn. "Help me to get her in
here, and then we'll push off to Bloodstock together."
A hurried reconnaissance led to the discovery of a little farmhouse, and
two minutes later I was making urgent representations to the owner of
the barn. To our relief the latter proved sympathetic and obliging, and
before we again took to the road the two-seater was safely under lock
and key.
"And now," said Miss Deriot, "how did it happen?"
"The theft? I can't imagine. We left that fool who yelled at us in
charge. I suppose he left her to get a drink or something. This is only
the fourth time we've had her out," I added gloomily.
"Oh, I say! Never mind. You're bound to get her again. Look at that
meadow-sweet. Isn't it lovely? I wish I could paint. Can you?"
"I painted a key-cupboard once. It was hung, too. Outside the
stillroom."
"Pity you didn't keep it up," said Miss Deriot. "It's a shame to waste
talent like that. Isn't it just broiling? I should love a bathe now."
"I hope you don't wear stockings in the water," said I.
Miss Deriot glanced at her white ankles.
"Is that a reflection?" she demanded.
I shook my head.
"By no manner of means. But there's a place for everything, isn't there?
I mean----"
We both laughed.
"That's better," said my companion. "I couldn't bear to see you so
worried this beautiful morning."
"My dear," said I, "you've a nice kind heart, and I thank you."
"Don't mention it," said Miss Deriot.
From the crown of her broad-brimmed hat to the soles of her buckskin
shoes she was the pink of daintiness. Health was springing in her fresh
cheeks, eagerness danced in her eyes, energy leapt from her carriage.
Had she been haughty, you would have labelled her "Diana," and have done
with it; but her eyes were gentle, and there was a tenderness about her
small mouth that must have pardoned Actæon. A plain gold wrist-watch on
a black silk strap was all her jewellery.
"We'd better strike across the next field," said Miss Deriot. "There's a
path that'll bring us out opposite _The Thatcher_. It'll save us about
five minutes."
"You might have been born here," said I.
"I was," said Agatha. She nodded towards a beech wood that stood a
furlong away. "The trees hide the house. But we left when I was seven,
and only came back to the County five years ago. And here's our field."
The five-barred gate was padlocked. I looked at my companion.
"Shall I get over, advance ten paces, and gaze Into the middle distance?
Or aren't you that sort?"
Miss Deriot flung back her head and laughed.
"I'd rather you gave me a leg up," she said.
With a hand on my shoulder and a foot in my hand she was up and over in
an instant. I vaulted after her.
"You know," I said, "we ought to perform, you and I. With a painter's
ladder, a slack wire, and a little practice, we should do wonders. On
non-matinée days I might even lift you with my teeth. That always goes
well, and no one would know you were as light as a rose-leaf."
"Seven stone three in the bathroom," said Agatha. "Without stockings.
Some rose-leaf."
We were going uphill. The meadow through which we were passing sloped to
an oaken fence, stoutly constructed to save the cattle from a perilous
fall. For on its farther side the ground fell away sheer, so that at
this point a bluff formed one high wall of the sunken road for which we
were making. _The Thatcher_, I remembered, stood immediately opposite to
the rough grass-grown steps, hewn years ago for the convenience of such
passengers as we. There was a stile set in the fence, and as I swung
myself over I glanced down past the edge of the bluff and into the road
below.
In the little curved space that fronted the inn the Rolls was standing
silent and unoccupied.
I must have exclaimed, for Agatha was over the stile In an instant, and
asking me what was the matter. Then she saw, and the words died on her
lips. Together we stood spell-bound.
The door of the inn was shut, and there was no one in sight.
My first impulse was to dart down the steps, beat upon the door of the
tavern, and confront the thief. But valour yielded to discretion. The
great thing was to recover the car. I had but a slip of a girl with me,
the spot was a lonely one, and it was more than likely that the
highwayman was not working alone. Besides, Agatha must not be involved
in any violence.
I turned to my lady.
"You stay here. I'm going to take her and drive straight to the
police-station. I'll pick up some police and come back just as quickly
as ever I can."
Miss Deriot shook her pretty head.
"I'm coming with you," she said. "Carry on."
"But, my dear----"
"I often wish I wasn't so obstinate." She spoke meditatively. "But we're
all like that. Mules aren't in it with the Deriots," she added, with a
dazzling smile.
"Neither, apparently, are cucumbers," said I, and with that I began to
descend the rough stairs, stepping as delicately as I could.
Half-way down I turned to look at my companion, and at that moment the
step upon which I was standing gave way. The scrambling sounds which
proclaimed my fall were followed by the rasping protest of yielding
cloth, and I came to rest six feet from the road at the expense of a
pre-War coat, which had caught the corner of one of the unplaned risers.
All had been so still, that in that hollow place the noise could not
have failed to attract the attention of any one who was within earshot,
and I lay for a moment where I had fallen, straining my ears for the
sound of footsteps or voices.
"Are you all right?" whispered a soft voice above me.
I turned my head and nodded. Miss Deriot, standing with clasped hands,
heaved a sigh of relief and prepared to continue her descent.
Gingerly I stepped down into the sandy road and started to cross it
a-tiptoe.
Facing towards Bloodstock, the car presented her off side to us.
With the utmost caution I proceeded to induct myself into the driver's
seat. As I sat down, Miss Deriot slipped in front of the bonnet and
round to the near side. She was opening the high side-door and my foot
was on the self-starter, when I heard the murmur of voices.
We were not a second too soon.
The moment I had started the engine there was a cry followed by the
clattering of heavy shoes upon cobbles, and as the car slid into the
road a man in a grey hat came tearing out of the inn's courtyard, waving
his arms and yelling like one possessed. Hard on his heels came pounding
his supporters, three of them, all bellowing like bulls.
So much I saw for myself. Agatha, kneeling on the seat by my side, kept
me informed of their movements till we swept out of sight.
"He's simply dancing. The one in the grey hat, I mean. Now he's shaking
his fist at us. Oh, he's mad. He's thrown his hat on the ground. O-o-o,
Boy, he's trying to kick one of the others. Oh, I wish you could
see...." The merry voice dissolved into peals of laughter.
Then the road curled, and Agatha turned left about and settled herself
by my side.
"How did you know my Christian name?" I demanded.
"Your sister used it this morning. You see, I've forgotten your other,
and I can't keep on saying 'you.' But I won't do it again."
"Please, Agatha."
"Deriot. One 'r.' I say, you've torn your coat properly."
"It feels as if it was in two pieces," said I.
"If it wasn't for the collar, it would be," said Agatha. "Never mind.
Bare backs are still fashionable. And what's a torn coat, when you've
got the car again?"
"You're right," I agreed. "You'd hardly believe it," I added, "but I can
tell from the feel of her that some stranger's been driving."
"I can believe it. After all, a car's just like a horse."
As she spoke, we sped into the market square of Bloodstock. The police
station stood in Love Lane, a couple of streets away.
Here a disappointment was in store. The sole representative of the Law
was a station sergeant in his shirt-sleeves and a state of profuse
perspiration. Between his lips was a penholder, and he held a telephone
receiver to his left ear. In an adjoining room the bell of another
telephone was ringing violently in long regular spasms, while, somewhere
quite close, a dog was giving ceaseless vent to those short sharp barks
which denote impatience of detention.
A sudden elevation of the sergeant's eyebrows invited me to state my
business, but before I had spoken two sentences he shifted the penholder
from his mouth and shook his head.
"'Fraid I can't 'elp you at the moment, sir. That's the third car what's
been stole in this distric' this mornin'. There's a 'ole gang of 'em
about. Every one excep' me's out after 'em now. 'Eaven knows when
they'll come in. An' there's that other telephone goin' like mad, an'
the Chief Constable's lef' his bull-dawg tied up there, an' 'e won't let
me within six foot of it." He turned to blare into the mouthpiece.
"'Ullo! 'Oo _are_ you? 'Oo _are_ you? Wot! Oh, I can't bear it. 'Ere,
for 'Eaven's sake, 'old the line." He set down the receiver, shook the
sweat out of his eyes, and sank on to a stool. "Another blinkin' car
gone," he said hoarsely. "I dunno wot's the matter with the world. I
wish I was back in France."
* * * * *
Love Lane was a narrow street, so I did not attempt to turn the car, but
drove on and presently out of the town by back streets on to the
Bilberry road.
It would have been better if I had telephoned to White Ladies before
leaving Bloodstock, to announce my recovery of the car; but I was
expecting to be back there so soon that it seemed unnecessary.
Indeed, it was only when we were once more under way that I thought of
the colt and the embrocation, to say nothing of my lady's two-seater,
now standing helpless in the gloom of the wayside barn.
"I tell you what," said I. "We'll drive to the barn and pick up the
lotion, and then I'll take you home. Then I can run your chauffeur back
to the barn with a spare cover, drop him there, and push off to White
Ladies."
"I can improve on that," said Agatha, with a glance at her wrist. "It'll
be past one by the time we get home, so you must stay to lunch. You can
telephone to White Ladies from there. And afterwards I'll go back with
you--I was to come over this afternoon, wasn't I?--and we can drop the
chauffeur at the barn on the way. And he can come for me in the
evening."
Agatha was living at Broadacre, a fine old place on the edge of the
forest itself, and thither we came without incident, just as an
old-fashioned gong was summoning the household to meat.
Admiral and Mrs. Deriot were kindness itself. First I was given a long,
cold, grateful drink. Then the old sailor led me to his own chamber and
ministered personally to my wants. My coat was given to a maid to be
roughly stitched, and when I appeared at luncheon it was in a jacket
belonging to my host. Our story was told and retold, the lawlessness of
the year of Grace 1919 was bewailed, and a violent denunciation of
motor-thieves was succeeded by a bitter proscription of the County
Police.
In the midst of my entertainment I remembered that I had not telephoned
to White Ladies, but the servant sent to make the connection was
informed by the Exchange that the line was out of order.
"I expect it's fused," said I. "With Berry at one end and that station
sergeant at the other, the strain must have been fearful."
* * * * *
It was half-past two before we were once more in the car. On the back
seat sat the Deriots' chauffeur, holding a spare wheel between his
knees.
It did not take us long to reach the barn, and, so soon as we had once
more unearthed the farmer, authorized him to suffer the chauffeur to
remove the two-seater, and discharged our debt for "accommodation," I
turned the Rolls round and headed for White Ladies.
"She's certainly a beautiful car," said Agatha, as the Rolls sailed up a
treacherously steep gradient on top. "It's like being in a lift."
"And, but for you, we might never have seen her again. Shall I give you
a stamp album, or would you like to drive?"
"D'you really mean that?" said Miss Deriot.
I shot her a glance. There was no mistaking the eagerness of her parted
lips and the sparkle of her gay brown eyes. By way of replying I brought
the car to a standstill. A moment later we had changed places.
"It's awfully kind of you," said Agatha delightedly, as she let in the
clutch. "I've always wanted to drive a Rolls. I hope I shan't hurt her."
"You'll do her good," said I. "I watched you in the two-seater. You've
got beautiful hands."
"Thank you, Boy."
"Now you shall have a stamp album as well. Go carefully here. There used
to be a wasps' nest in that bank, but it's closed now, same as the
German banks. What a war!"
"But I don't collect stamps."
"Then she shall have a dog. What about a Sealyham to sleep on your bed
and bite the postman?"
"I'd love one," said Agatha.
"And you'll sit up in bed in the morning, with your hair all about your
eyes, and smile at him, and he'll growl back at you--I can just see
you."
"Thanks awfully. But you're wrong about my hair."
"Is it never unruly?"
"Only by day. I wish to goodness I could wear it down."
"So do I. Then we could all sit on it when the grass was wet. At the
moment there's a particularly beautiful tress caressing your left
shoulder. And I think you ought to know that the wind is kissing it
quite openly. It's all very embarrassing. I hope I shan't catch it," I
added cheerfully.
Miss Deriot made a supreme effort to look severe.
"If you do," she said uncertainly, "I shall drive straight into the
horse-pond."
"'Sh!" said I reprovingly. "You oughtn't to jest about such things. You
might catch it yourself. Easily." Here we passed the horse-pond. "You
know you'll never be able to look fierce so long as you have that
dimple. You'll have to fill it up or something. I suppose it's full of
dew every morning now."
Without a word Agatha slowed down, turned up a by-road, and stopped.
Then she proceeded to back the car.
"What on earth is she doing?" said I.
She turned a glowing face to mine.
"Going back to the horse-pond," she flashed.
I laid a hand on her arm and she stopped.
"My dear, if you must have a bath, you shall have one directly you get
to White Ladies. I'll turn on the water for you. But let me beg of
you----"
"If I go on, will you promise to behave?"
"Faithfully."
"And fold your arms and sit like a groom all the way?"
"I suppose you couldn't make it a footman. Then I could stand on the
petrol tank. However, as it's your birthday----"
I folded my arms with a sigh. Instantly Agatha leaned towards me with a
dazzling smile.
"Good Boy," she said in a caressing tone. "Now he shall have a stamp
album."
"But I don't collect stamps."
The smile deepened. But for her red mouth, her little white teeth would
have been the prettiest things in the world.
"Well, I'd thought of a stamp album," she said slowly. "However, as it's
your birthday----"
A minute later we were back in the main road.
* * * * *
By my direction Miss Deriot drove straight to the stables, and we left
the car standing in the middle of the yard.
As we walked round to the front of the house, "We won't tell the others
that we've found her just yet," said I. "We'll hear what they've got to
say first."
"Perhaps they're all out looking for her," said Agatha.
"Not all. Daphne's sure to be here somewhere."
As I spoke we rounded a clump of laurels to see the lady in question
comfortably ensconced in a deck-chair upon the lawn. By her side was
Jill, seated upon a cushion, one little foot tucked under her, nursing
the other's instep with her slim, brown hand. On a rug at her feet lay
Jonah, his chin propped between his two palms and a pipe in his mouth.
All three were gazing contentedly across the grass to where the drive
swept wide to the foot of the broad grey steps. _There stood a handsome
Rolls-Royce, the facsimile of the one from which we had just alighted._
With a great gasp Agatha stopped dead, and I recoiled as from a spectre.
Instinctively we clasped one another.
"It's all right," I whispered. "I've seen it too. It'll go away in a
moment. Shows what imagination will do."
"But--but it's real!" cried Agatha.
"Real enough, my lady," said Jonah's voice. He seemed to be speaking
from a great distance. "And I'll bet you never expected to see her again
so soon," he added, looking at me with a smile.
"To tell you the truth," said I, "we didn't."
As in a dream I watched a dazed and stammering Agatha made welcome and
set in a chair by my sister's side. Somebody--Jill, I fancy--led me to
the rug and persuaded me to sit down. Mechanically I started to fumble
for a cigarette. Then I heard Jonah talking, and I came to my senses.
"We thought you'd be surprised," he was saying, "but I didn't think it'd
take you like this. After all, there's nothing uncanny about it."
"But I don't understand----"
"Listen. Will Noggin was sitting in the car when he heard a crash, and
there was a fellow lying in the middle of the road, about fifty yards
away, with a push-bike beside him. Naturally Will jumped out and ran to
his help. The man seemed to be having a fit, and Will was just loosening
his collar, when he heard the engine start and saw the Rolls moving. He
left the chap in the road and ran like mad, but he was too late. Nobody
ever saw the fellow with the push-bike again. Of course he was one of
the gang, and his fall was a put-up job to get Will out of the way.
Pretty smart--what?
"Well, you hadn't been gone five minutes when Fitch arrived on his
motor-bike. He'd come to bring us a can of petrol, for after we'd left
he remembered the tank was almost empty.
"That gave me a bit of hope. If they stuck to the main road you were
pretty well bound to catch them, for Fitch swore they'd never get five
miles. But, of course, they might turn off. So I thought the rest of us
had better follow and search the by-roads for all we were worth. So I
sat on Fitch's carrier with the can under one arm, and Daphne
commandeered the curate's push-bike and sent Berry after us."
"Isn't he back yet?" said I, looking round.
"Not yet," said Jonah, with a grin.
"And doesn't he know she's found?"
"That pleasure is still awaiting him. Well, Fitch was right. We left the
Bloodstock road for the second time at Dew Thicket, and at the foot of
the hill there she was, dry as a bone, but as right as rain."
"Abandoned?"
"Apparently. Any way, there was no one in sight. I sent Fitch after you
and drove her home. Fitch had a burst directly he'd left me, and had to
walk back to Bilberry."
"Is that all?" said I.
"Well, it's enough, isn't it?"
"Not nearly," said I, rising to my feet. "Kindly accompany me to the
stables."
"What d'you mean, Boy?" cried Jill.
"'Sh!" said I. "Come and see."
In silence I led the way, Agatha treading solemnly by my side. As we
turned under the archway that led to the stable-yard--
"You see," I said carelessly, "we, too, have met with some success."
The Rolls was standing where I had left her, waiting to be backed into
the garage.
My sister gave a cry and caught at Jonah's arm. Jonah started violently
and smothered an exclamation. Jill put one hand to her eyes, as if to
brush away a vision.
There was a long silence.
At length I turned to Jonah.
"I fear that you were hasty, brother. A moment's reflection will show
you that you and Fitch have spoiled some poor car-owner's day. Let me
suggest that you return your ill-gotten gains to the foot of the hill
beyond Dew Thicket without delay. As a matter of fact, I know the police
are very concerned about this theft. It was the fourth in this district
this morning."
Fitch came forward, touching his hat.
"It's a mistake anybody might make, sir. They're as like as two pins."
He pointed to the car. "She's the spit of ours, she is."
"Don't be silly," said I. "I admit they're exactly alike, but that's
ours."
Fitch shook his head.
"Different chassis number, sir, to say nothing of the number-plates."
I stared at him. Then--
"Nonsense," I said sturdily.
"It's a fact, sir. The one in the front's ours. I'm afraid you've stole
somebody else's car."
* * * * *
We had returned to the front of the house and were wondering what to do,
when our attention was attracted by a sudden outburst of cries and the
noise of a car's tires tearing at the road. This lay but a hundred odd
yards away on the farther side of the brown stream by which the lawn was
edged. For the length of a cricket pitch the hedgerow bounding the
highway was visible from where we stood, and as this was not more than
four feet high, we were able to observe a scene which was clearly but
the prologue to a drama in which we were presently to appear.
Under the explosive directions of a man in a grey hat, who was standing
upright and holding on to the wind-screen, frantic efforts were being
made to turn what seemed to be a small touring car. Even as we looked, a
savage gesture in our direction suggested that our friend was
identifying the Rolls by our side as stolen property for the benefit of
four individuals who crouched timorously behind him. To my consternation
I observed that these were no less than an inspector and three
constables of the County Police.
The next minute the car had been turned round and was being driven
rapidly back to our lodge-gates.
"Leave them to me," said Jonah quietly. "Go and sit down on the lawn,
all of you. I'll fix them."
* * * * *
"That's the fellow," said Grey Hat, in a shaking voice, "and that's his
accomplice." He pointed a fat hand at myself and Agatha in turn.
"I beg your pardon," said Jonah. Grey Hat turned and looked him up and
down. "Were you wanting anything? I mean, I live here."
"I don't know who you are," came the reply. "But that's my car, and
those are the people who stole it."
"One thing at a time. My name's Mansel."
"I'm the Chief Constable of the County."
"Good. Now, about the car. I was under the impression that it was mine."
"Don't try and bluff me, sir," roared the other. "You know perfectly
well that that car was stolen from the outskirts of Bloodstock only a
few hours ago. You're a receiver, sir, a common----" He checked himself
with an effort. "Inspector!" The officer addressed came forward and
saluted. "Caution the three of them."
"Hadn't you better identify your property first?" said Jonah. "I mean, I
don't want to interfere, but if it's a question of our arrest----"
The inspector hesitated, and the Chief Constable's face took on a darker
shade of red. He was a coarse-looking man, generously designed and
expensively over-dressed. For a moment I thought he was going to strike
Jonah. Then he caught a heavy underlip in his teeth, turned on his heel,
and strode to the Rolls-Royce.
He cast a proprietor's eye over her points. Then he stepped behind her
as though to come to her other side. The next second he was back and
shaking his fist in Jonah's face.
"So you've had the infernal audacity to alter the number-plates, have
you?" he yelled. "Thought to bluff me, I suppose. You impudent----"
"One moment," said Jonah steadily. "Without looking at the dash, tell me
your chassis number. Your chauffeur should know it."
"One double seven eight," came parrot-wise from the lips of the
gentleman referred to.
"Thank you," said Jonah.
Grey Hat almost ran to the Rolls, tore open the bonnet, and stared at
the dash--stared....
We waited in a silence so charged with expectancy as to be almost
unbearable.
At last the Chief Constable straightened his back. His eyes were bulging
and his face redder than ever. Twice he essayed to speak without
success. Then--
"I said it was my car," said Jonah placidly.
For a moment Grey Hat stood glaring at him. Then, muttering something
about "a mistake," he started to lurch towards the police car. As the
officers turned shamefacedly to follow their chief, Jonah's parade voice
rang out.
"Stop!" At the word of command, master and men alike stood still where
they were. "My friends and I have been openly accused of felony and
threatened with arrest."
The Chief Constable swallowed before replying.
"I was mistaken," he said thickly. "I--I apologize."
"You mean to say you believed that to be your car?"
"I did."
"Why?"
"It's exactly like it."
"There must be some difference."
"There's no difference at all. If mine were here, I'd defy you to tell
them apart."
"Do you seriously suggest that I shouldn't know my own car?"
"I do."
"And that such a mistake on my part would be excusable?"
"Certainly."
"Thank you," said Jonah. "That excusable mistake was made this morning.
My car was stolen and sought for. Your car was found. If you will
accompany me to the stables, I shall be happy to restore it to you at
once."
Grey Hat started forward, his face transfigured with excitement and
relief.
"You mean to say----" he began.
"Come, sir," said Jonah icily. "I feel sure that the ladies will excuse
your withdrawal."
* * * * *
It was half an hour later, just when we were finishing tea, that a cry
from Jill made us all turn to follow her gaze down the curling drive.
Twenty paces away was Berry, plodding slowly in our direction, wheeling
a tired-looking bicycle. His clothes were thick with dust, his collar
was like a piece of wet rag, and on his face there was a look of utter
and profound resignation.
As we started to our feet--
"Don't touch me," he said. "I'm leading in the Marathon race. The
conditions are fearful. Competitors are required not only to walk, but
at the same time to propel a bicycle, the hind tire of which must be
deflated. You're only allowed five falls, and I've used four of them."
With a final effort he reached the edge of the lawn and laid the bicycle
gently on its side. "'How we brought the good news from Aix to Ghent,'"
he continued. "Yes, I see the car, but I'm not interested. During the
last five hours my life has been so crowded with incident that there is
no room for anything else. Isn't there a cycling club about here I can
join? I've always fancied a grey sweater."
"Did I hear you say that you had fallen, brother?" said I.
"You did. Four times were these noble limbs prostrated in the dust. The
first time was when the handle-bars came off. Oh, it's a beautiful
machine." Solemnly he waited for the laughter to subside. "But she
doesn't turn easily. If my blood counts, there are at least three
corners in the County that are for ever England. And now will somebody
fetch the Vicar? I shan't last long. And some drinks." He stretched
himself upon the grass. "Several drinks. All together in a large
vessel."
Jill fled, weak with laughter, to execute his commands. Berry proceeded
to remove his collar and tie.
"I can't think," he said suddenly, "why they call them safety bicycles.
I suppose it's because they strike only on the box." He turned to
Daphne. "Since I left you this morning, woman, I have walked with Death.
Oh, more than once. Of course I've walked without him, too. Miles and
miles." He groaned. "I never knew there was so much road."
"Didn't you do any riding?" said Jonah. "I know they're called
push-bikes, but that's misleading. Lots of people ride them. That's what
the saddle's for."
"Foul drain," said my brother-in-law, "your venomous bile pollutes the
crystal flood of my narration. Did I ride? That was the undoing of the
sage. When he recovered consciousness for the second time, it was to
discover that the chain was missing and that the back tire was windless.
In my endeavours to find the chain I lost myself. That reminds me. I
must put an advertisement in _The Times_ to the effect that any one
returning a bicycle-chain to White Ladies will be assaulted. I have no
desire to be reminded of to-day. If anybody had told me you could cover
about fifty miles of open road in England without meeting anything but
road-hogs, who not only failed to stop when I hailed them, but choked
and blinded me with their filthy dust, I should have prayed for his
soul. And not a pub open!"
He stopped to watch with a glistening eye the approach of Jill, bearing
a tankard in one hand and a large jug of some beverage in the other.
"What is it?" he said.
"Shandy-gaff."
"Heaven will reward you, darling, as I shan't." He took a long draught.
"And yet I don't know. I've got an old pair of riding-breeches I don't
want, if they're any use to you."
There was a shriek from Agatha and Jill.
"Is anybody going to church?" said Daphne, consulting her wrist-watch.
Berry choked.
Gravely, I regarded him.
"Run along and change," said I. "And you can return the curate his
bicycle at the same time. Besides, a walk'll do you good."
"Don't tempt me," he replied. "Two hours ago I registered a vow. I shall
drink no water till it is accomplished."
"Let's hear it," said I.
"To offer no violence to a fool for six months," said Berry, refilling
his tankard. "By the way, you'll have to be very careful when you take
off my boots. They're very full of foot this evening." He sank back and
closed his eyes. "You know I never look at the almanac, but before I was
up this morning I knew that this was a blue-letter day."
"How?" said his wife.
"I left a stud within the bath, and heard Jonah find it." He spread out
a dramatic arm.
_"And he thereon did only sit,
So blind he couldn't see,
And then the fat-head yelled and swore,
Not at himself, but me."_
CHAPTER II
HOW DAPHNE WROTE FOR ASSISTANCE, AND MR. HOLLY WAS OUTBID.
"Blow this out for me, Boy, there's a dear."
The sun was streaming into the library, in a cage upon the broad hearth
there was a blazing log fire, and the appointment of the breakfast-table
was good to look upon.
So also was Jill.
Installed behind the cups and silver, my cousin made a sweet picture.
Grave eyes set wide in a smiling face, a pile of golden hair crowning
her pretty head, the slenderest throat, from which the collar of a green
silk coat fell gracefully on either side--so much a cunning painter
might have charmed faithfully on to canvas. But the little air of
importance, of dignity fresh-gathered that sat so naively upon her
brow--this was a thing nor brush nor pencil could capture, but only a
man's eye writing upon a grateful heart.
It was but three days since Daphne had left White Ladies for London, and
grey-eyed Jill reigned in her stead. Berry had accompanied his wife, but
Jonah and I had stayed in the country with Jill, lest we should lose a
note of that echo of summer which good St. Luke had this year piped so
lustily.
But yesterday the strains had faltered and died. A sour east wind had
arisen, that set the trees shivering, and whipped the golden leaves from
their galleries, to send them scudding up the cold grey roads. Worse
still, by noon the sky was big with snow, so that before the post office
was closed, a telegram had fled to London warning my sister to expect us
to arrive by car the following afternoon.
Jill renewed her appeal.
Above the little spirit lamp which she was holding hovered a tiny flame,
seemingly so sensitive that a rough word would quench it for ever. When
I had kissed my cousin, I blew steadily and fiercely from the
south-west. Instantly a large tongue of fire flared half-way to where
Jonah was eating his porridge and knitting his brows over _The Times_.
Jill's hand began to shake.
"You wicked child," said I. "You knew----"
"Oh, Boy, but it's so silly. We had to leave it for you. Jonah nearly
burst himself just now, trying."
"Thing's bewitched," said Jonah calmly. "The more air you give it, the
fiercer it burns. I'd sooner try to blow out a hurricane lamp."
"Nonsense," said I, taking a deep breath.
At the end of the round--
"Yes," said Jonah. "Do you mind blowing the other way next time? It's
not my face I'm worrying about, but this is the only copy of _The Times_
in the house."
Jill was helpless with laughter, so I took the lamp away from her and
advanced to the fireplace.
"I'll fix the swine," I said savagely.
Two minutes later, with a blast that almost blew the lamp out of my
hand, the flame was extinguished in a flurry that would have done credit
to a whale. As I straightened my back--
"Well done, Boy," said Jill. "There's a letter for you from Berry. Do
see what he says. Then I'll read you Daphne's."
"Read hers first," said I. "Strange as it may seem, I entered this room
to eat."
"Right oh!" And in her fresh little voice my cousin began to read.
_JILL DARLING,_
_The sooner you all come up the better. Everything's ready and Berry's
more than I can manage alone. His shoulder was aching last night, but
when I wanted to rub him he said he was a kind of Aladdin's lamp, and
wouldn't be responsible if I did. "Supposing a genie appeared and formed
fours, or the slop-pail rotted aside, disclosing a flight of steps."
Result, to-day in Bond Street he turned suddenly to look at a passing
car, and had a seizure. He just gave a yell as if he'd been shot, and
then stood stock still with his head all on one side. Of course I was
horrified, but he said he was quite all right, and explained that it was
muscular rheumatism. I stopped a taxi and tried to make him get in, for
people were beginning to look. Do you think he would? Not a bit of it.
Stood there and said it was a judgment, and that he must stay where he
was till it had passed. "That may not be for years. They'll put railings
round me after a bit, and people will meet at me instead of the Tube.
You will be responsible for my meals, some of which you will cook on the
spot. I'll have a light lunch to-day about 1300 hours." One or two
people stopped, and I got into a taxi just as a man asked him if he was
ill. "Brother," said the fool, "my blood tests are more than
satisfactory. A malignant Fate, however----" When I asked him if he was
coming he told the man I was taunting him, so I just drove home. The
Willoughbys brought him back in their car quarter of an hour later.
Madge said she'd never laughed so much in her life, but I can't bear it
alone. Mrs. Mason is at last reconciled to the idea of an electric
cooker, and your new curtains look sweet. Come along. Love to you all._
_DAPHNE._
"Berry's version should be engaging," said Jonah. "Slip along with that
porridge."
"Don't hustle me. Gladstone used to masticate every mouthful he took
seven million times before swallowing. That's why he couldn't tell a
lie. Or am I thinking of Lincoln?"
The hostility with which my cousins received the historical allusion was
so marked that it seemed only prudent to open my brother-in-law's letter
without further delay.
I did so and read the contents aloud.
_DEAR BROTHER,_
_Your constant derision of human suffering has satisfied me that the
facts I am about to relate will afford you the utmost gratification.
Natheless I consider that for form's sake my wife's brother should know
that I am in failing health. This morning, whilst faring forth, as is my
wont (pronounced "wunt"), upon a mission of charity, I was seized with
an agony in the neck and Old Bond Street just opposite the
drinking-fountain. Believing it to be appendicitis, I demanded a
chirurgeon, but nobody could spell the word. The slightest movement,
however, spelt anguish without a mistake. My scruff was in the grip of
Torment. Observing that I was helpless, the woman, my wife, summoned a
hackney carriage and drove off, taunting and jeering at her spouse. By
this time my screams had attracted the attention of a few passers-by.
Some stood apparently egg-bound, others hurried away, doubtless to
procure assistance. One fool asked me if I was ill. I told him that I
had been dead for some days, and asked him if he knew of a good florist,
as I wanted them to send no flowers. Had it not been for Madge
Willoughby, I should have been there now._
_Organized bodies of navvies are slowly but surely ruining the streets.
No efforts are made to stop them, and the police seem powerless to
interfere._
_There is no room in London. I never remember when there was. But don't
you come. The air is the purer for your absence, and your silk hats seem
to fit me better than my own. My love for Jill is only exceeded by my
hatred of you and my contempt for Jonah. I have much more to say, but I
have, thank Heaven, something better to do than to communicate with a
debauched connection, whose pleasure has ever been my pain, and from
whom I have learned more vicious ways than I can remember. For I am by
nature a little child. Just before and after rain you may still see
traces of the halo which I bought at Eastbourne in '94. My gorge is
rising, so I must write no more._
_BERRY._
"What's muscular rheumatism?" said Jill, gurgling with laughter.
"Your muscles get stiff," said Jonah, "and you get stuck. Hurts like
anything. I've had it."
"Now you know," said I, selecting a sausage. "Will you be ready by
hall-past eleven (winter time) or must we lunch here?"
"I'm ready now," said Jill. "But you and Jonah said it was indecent to
start earlier."
"So it is. We shall get to Pistol comfortably in an hour and a half, and
if we start again at half-past two, we shall be in London for tea."
Jonah rose and limped to the window.
"I'll tell you one thing," he said. "It's going to be a devilish cold
run."
* * * * *
Jonah was right.
We sat all three upon the front seat, but even so we were hard put to it
to keep warm. The prospect of a hot lunch at Pistol was pleasant indeed.
Jonah was driving, and the Rolls slid through the country like a great
grey bird, sailing and swooping and swerving so gracefully that it was
difficult to believe the tale which the speedometer told. Yet this was
true enough, for it was not a quarter to one when we swept round the
last corner and into the long straight reach of tarmac, at the top of
which lay the village we sought.
Pistol is embedded in a high moor, snug and warm, for all its eminence.
The moor itself is girt with waving woods that stretch and toss for
miles, making a deep sloping sash of foliage which Autumn will dye with
such grave glory that the late loss of Summer and her pretty ways seems
easier to bear. Orange and purple copper and gold, russet and
crimson--these in a hundred tones tremble and glow in one giant harmony,
out of which, at the release of sun, come swelling chords so deep and
rich and vivid that the sweet air is quick with stifled music and every
passing breeze charged to the full with silent melody.
We had left this girdle of woodland behind us and were within half a
mile of the village, when some activity about the gates of a private
house attracted our attention. A little knot of men stood arguing in the
roadway, three cars and an old fly were berthed close to the hedge,
while a good-looking landau was waiting for a furniture van to emerge
from the drive.
The next moment we were near enough to learn from a large poster that
"the entire contents of Cranmer Place were to be sold by auction" this
day, "including a quantity of valuable antique furniture," and with one
accord Jill and I called upon Jonah to stop.
"What for?" said the latter, as he brought the car to a standstill.
"Don't say you want to go and watch the rector's wife bidding against
her conscience and the draper for a what-not."
"Such," said I, "is our intention." I hoisted myself to my feet and,
opening the door, descended stiffly into the road. As I helped Jill to
follow me, "You push on to Highlands," I added, "and order the lunch.
We'll only stay a minute or two."
"And you never know," said Jill, "we might see something priceless."
Jonah shook his head.
"Depend upon it," he said, "the oleographs have gone to Christie's, same
as the fumed oak. Only the dud stuff's left. However, have it your own
way." With a sigh, he let in the clutch. "If you're not there by a
quarter past one, I shall begin."
Jill slid an arm through mine, which she squeezed excitedly.
"I'm sure we shall find something, Boy. I just feel it. It always
happens like this. You see, it isn't as if we were looking for a sale.
We've just run right into one. And last night I dreamed about
cretonnes."
"That settles it," said I, as the Rolls glided out of our way and we
started to cross the road. "All the same, Jonah's probably right. But I
love a sale. I'm afraid it's curiosity more than anything."
Catalogues were handed us at the front door, and we passed into a fine
square hall, where a dresser and a large gate-table, each conspicuously
labelled, declared that the late occupant was a man of taste.
"Two very fine pieces, sir," said a voice. "Coming up this afternoon." I
turned to see a short stout man in a 1907 bowler and two overcoats,
which he wore open, regarding the furniture with an appraising look.
With difficulty he extracted a card from an inside pocket. "If you're
thinkin' of buyin' anythin', Major, that's me card, an' I'll be very
'appy to ac' for you."
"Thanks, I don't think----"
"All right, Major, all right. Only if you should, I'm always about," he
added hastily, turning away in response to a cry which had arisen for
"Mr. 'Olly." "Comin', comin'!" he cried, making for what I took to be
the drawing room.
I slipped his card into my pocket and we passed on.
The tallboy chest was standing alone in its dignity at the top of the
broad staircase.
The moment I saw it I knew it was good stuff. And Jill gave a little cry
and began to chatter, till I laid my hand on her arm with a warning
pressure.
"Hush," I said quickly, "don't give it away. Of course they all know
it's good, but we needn't seem over-anxious. Try and look as if you
thought it might do for the harness-room if it was enamelled."
"O-o-oh, Boy."
Such chests may be handsome and--rarely--elegant, but this was dainty.
Standing upon short cabriole legs, it was small, but of exquisite
proportions, and had been built, I judged, in the reign of Queen Anne.
The walnut which had gone to its making was picked wood, and its drawers
were faced with oyster-shell and inlaid with box. Their handles were
perfect, and, indeed, the whole chest was untouched and without blemish,
shining with that clean lustre which only wax and constant elbow-grease
can bring about.
When I had examined the piece as carefully as I dared, I winked at Jill
and descended into the hall.
Mr. Holly was awaiting us.
Casually I addressed him.
"There's a tallboy at the top of the stairs, labelled 207. I'm not crazy
about it, but it's about the right size for a recess in my bedroom. If
you like to buy that for me on a five per cent. basis----"
"Certainly, Major." He wrote in a fat notebook. "Lot 207. An' ow' 'igh
will you go?"
I hesitated.
"I'll go up to a hundred pounds. But the cheaper you get it, the better
for you. Understand?"
"I'm there, Major. Will you be coming back?"
"No. But there's my card. You can telegraph to that address this
evening, and I'll send you a cheque."
"Very good, sir."
A minute later we were walking along the road towards Highlands and,
while Jill was talking excitedly, I was considering my own recklessness.
As we entered the grounds--
"Don't say anything about it," I said. "Let it be a surprise."
* * * * *
The first person I saw, as I entered the lounge of that hotel, was
Berry.
"Do you mind not asking me why I'm here?" he said languidly. "I've just
finished telling Jonah, and repetition always wearied me."
"Your movements have never interested me," said I. "All the same, I
thought you were in the grip of Torment."
"I was and shall be. For the nonce----" He turned to a tall dark girl
who was leaning against the chimney-piece, watching us curiously. "Let
me introduce my brother-in-law. Carefully kept from me before marriage
and by me ever since. Both the ablative case, I believe, but what a
difference? So rich is the English tongue."
The girl threw back her head and laughed. I observed that she had nice
teeth.
"Name of Childe," she said in a sweet voice. "After all, we can't expect
him to remember everything. Wasn't my brother in your regiment?"
"I knew I'd seen you somewhere," said I. "The last time you were on a
towel, leaning against a bottle of hairwash. That was in Flanders in
1916."
"That," said Berry, "will do. Miss Childe and I came here to lunch, not
to listen to maudlin memories of the Great War. Did I ever tell you that
a Spaniard once compared me to that elusive bloom to be found only upon
the ungathered apricot?"
"How much did you lend him?" said I.
"Perhaps he knew more about ferns," said Miss Childe.
"Blind from birth, I suppose," said Jonah's voice.
My brother-in-law rose to his feet and looked about him with the
expression of one who has detected an offensive odour.
"He was a man of singular insight and fine feeling," he said. "At the
time of his outburst I was giving evidence against him for cruelty to a
bullock. And now, for goodness' sake, somebody collect Jill and let's
have some lunch."
* * * * *
"As a matter of fact," said Miss Childe, "I've come down to get some
butter and eggs. They're usually sent, but the housekeeper's ill, and,
as I was going spare, father suggested I should run down and pick them
up."
Her voice sounded as if she was speaking from afar, and I knew that I
must call up all my reserves of willpower if I was to remain awake.
"But Berry's with you, isn't he?"
"Yes. Your sister came to lunch yesterday and happened to mention that
he wanted to go to Pistol to-day, so I offered him a lift. He's much
nicer than any chauffeur."
"But whatever did he want to come to Pistol for?"
"Ah." From a great distance I watched Miss Childe's brown eyes take on a
look of mischief that seemed at home in its bright setting. "He wouldn't
tell you and he didn't tell Captain Mansel the truth, so I shan't give
him away." She looked at a tiny wrist-watch. "And now I must be going.
We want to start back at half-past three, and I've twenty-five miles to
do before then."
"May I come with you?"
"Certainly. But----"
I stepped to where Jill was scribbling a note.
"We needn't start before half-past three," I said. "Will you wait for
me?"
She nodded abstractedly.
Jonah was dozing over a cigarette. Berry had disappeared.
Three minutes later I was sitting in a comfortable coupé, which Miss
Childe was driving at an unlawful speed in the direction of Colt.
"You drive a lot, don't you?" flashed my companion.
"A good deal."
"Then I expect you hate being driven by a stranger?"
"Not at all. Sometimes, of course----" I waited for us to emerge from
between two motor-lorries and a traction-engine. As we were doing over
forty-five, the pause was but momentary. "I mean----"
"That you're being frightened to death?"
"Not to death. I've still got some feeling in my right arm." We dropped
down one of the steepest hills I have ever seen, with two bends in it,
at an increased speed. "You keep your guardian angel pretty busy, don't
you?"
A suspicion of a smile played for a second about my lady's lips.
"The only thing I'm really frightened of is a hansom cab," she affirmed.
"Try and imagine that there are half a dozen round the next corner, will
you?"
The smile deepened.
"Is your heart all right?" she demanded.
"It was when we started."
"But I know this road backwards."
"You needn't tell me that," said I. "We should have been killed long ago
if you didn't. Seriously, I don't want to abuse your hospitality, but
we're going to have kidneys for breakfast to-morrow, and I should be
sorry to miss them."
"Are you fond of kidneys?"
"Passionately. I used to go out and gather them as a child. In the
morning and the meadows. Or were we talking of haddock?"
Miss Childe hesitated before replying.
"I used to, too. But I was always afraid of their being toadstools.
They're poisonous, aren't they?"
"Deadly. By the way, there are six hansoms full of toadstools at the
cross-roads which I observe we are approaching."
"I don't believe you."
I was wrong. But there was a waggon full of logs and a limousine full of
children, which were rather worse.
We proceeded amid faint cries of indignation.
"What do you do," said I, "when you come to a level-crossing with the
gates shut? "
"I don't," said Miss Childe.
I was still working this out, when my companion slowed down and brought
the car to a standstill in front of a high white gate bearing the legend
"Private," and keeping a thin brown road that ran for a little way
between fair meadows before plunging into a swaying beechwood.
"Anything the matter?" I asked.
Miss Childe laid a hand on my arm.
"Be an angel," she said in a caressing voice.
"Certainly," said I. "With or without wings?"
"And open the gate, so that----"
"I know," I cried, "I know. Don't tell me. 'So that the automobile may
pass unobstructed between the gate-posts.' Am I right?"
"How on earth did you know?"
"Instinct." I open the door and stepped backwards into the road. "I'm
always like this before eating kidneys," I added.
As I re-entered the car--
"Now we can let her out," said Miss Childe contentedly. "It's such a
relief to feel there's no speed limit," she added, with a ravishing
smile.
As soon as I could trust my voice--
"I shouldn't think your chauffeurs live very long, do they?"
"On the contrary, they grow old in our service."
"I can believe you," said I heartily. "I myself have aged considerably
since we left Highlands."
By this time we had flung through and out of the beechwood, and the car
was storming past stretches of gleaming bracken, all red and gold and
stuck with spreading oak trees that stood sometimes alone, sometimes in
groups of two or three together, and made you think of staring cattle
standing knee-deep in a golden flood.
The car tore on.
"We're coming to where I used to gather the mushrooms," my companion
announced.
"Barefoot?"
"Sometimes."
"Because of the dew?"
She nodded.
I sighed. Then--
"Up to now I've been feeling like a large brandy and a small soda," I
said. "Now I feel like a sonnet. What is your name, and who gave you
that name?"
"I'm sure that's not necessary. I've seen a sonnet 'To a lady upon her
birthday.'"
"As you please. Shall I post it to you or pin it to a tree in Battersea
Park?"
Miss Childe nodded her head in the direction in which we were going.
"That," she said, "is the house."
At the end of a long avenue of elms I could see the bold flash of
windows which the afternoon sun had set afire, and a moment later we
swept by the front of an old red mansion and round into a paved court
that lay on its farther side.
Here was a door open, and in front of this my companion brought the car
to a standstill.
I handed her out. She rang the bell and entered. I followed her in.
"Like to look round the house?" said Miss Childe. "We've given up
showing it since the Suffragettes, but if you could give me a
reference----"
"Messrs. Salmon and Gluckstein," said I, "are my solicitors."
My lady pointed to a door at the end of the flagged passage in which we
stood.
"That'll take you into the hall," she said. "I'll come and find you when
I've seen the servants."
I saluted and broke away in the direction she had indicated.
* * * * *
There was a closet that opened out of the great gallery. No door hung in
the doorway and I could see china ranged orderly against the panelling
of the walls. I descended its two stairs, expecting to find it devoted
to china and nothing else. But I was wrong. Facing the window and the
sunshine was a facsimile of the tallboy chest which I had coveted so
fiercely two hours before.
I gazed at it spell-bound.
"It's very rude to stare," said a voice.
I turned to see Miss Childe framed in the doorway.
Her gown was of apricot, with the bodice cut low and the skirt gathered
in loops to show her white silk petticoat, which swelled from under a
flowered stomacher so monstrously, that the tiny blue-heeled slipper
upon the second stair seemed smaller than ever. Deep frills of lace fell
from her short sleeves and a little lace cap was set on her thick dark
hair.
I swallowed before replying. Then--
"It's a lovely chest," I said lamely.
"Picked wood," said Miss Childe. "Flogged once a week for years, that
tree was."
"Flogged?"
"Certainly."
Suddenly the air was full of music, and a jubilant chorus of voices was
singing lustily--
"_A woman, a spaniel, and a walnut-tree,
The more you beat them, the better they be._"
As the melody faded--
"I told you so," said Miss Childe. "What about the butter and eggs? Will
you pay for them, or shall I have them sent?"
I handed her the largest one pound note I have ever seen.
"Thanks," she said shortly. "Change at Earl's Court."
A peal of boy's laughter floated in at the open window.
"Who's that?" said I.
"Love," said Miss Childe. "The locksmiths are here, and he's laughing at
them. I think it's rather unkind myself. Besides----"
A burst of machine-gun fire interrupted her.
As the echoes died down--
"You smell of potpourri," said I.
"Probably. I made three bags full this morning. Bead bags. Do you mind
putting some coal on the fire? If there aren't any tongs, use the
telephone."
There was no fireplace and no coal-scuttle, so I took off my right boot
and put it in the bottom drawer of the tallboy instead.
"Number, please," said Miss Childe, who had entered the closet and was
standing a-tiptoe before a mirror to adjust a patch beneath her left
eye.
"Lot 207," said I.
"Line's engaged," said Miss Childe. "Didn't you see it in _The Times_?"
By way of answer, I threw a large plate at her. She seemed more pleased
than otherwise with the attention, and began to pluck the delicate
flowers with which it was painted and gather them into a nosegay. In
some dudgeon, I blew a small jug of great beauty on to a carved
prie-dieu, to which it adhered as though made of some slimy substance.
"Cannon," said my lady. "Shall I put you on?"
"I wish you would. It's rather important."
"You're through."
"Tallboy speaking," said a faint voice. "Tallboy. Tallboy."
"How d'ye do?" said I.
"Ill," said the voice, "so ill. All these years I've carried it, and no
one knew----"
"Pardon me," said I. "I only put it there five minutes ago. You see, the
fire was almost out and----"
"Measurements tell," said the voice. "But they never do that. They
polish my panels and lay fair linen within me, and great folk have stood
about me telling each other of my elegance, and once a baby child
mirrored its little face in one of my sides. And all the time
measurements tell. But they never do that."
A sigh floated to my ears, a long, long sigh that rose into a wail of
the wind, and a casement behind me blew to with a shaking clash.
Somewhere a dog was howling.
On a sudden I felt cold. The sunshine was gone, and the chamber had
become grey and dismal. Misery was in the air.
A stifled exclamation made me look round.
My lady had backed shrinking into a corner, one little hand pressed to
her heart, and in her hunted eyes sat Fear dominant. The sweet face was
drawn and colourless, and her breath came quickly, so that it was
grievous to mark the flutter of her smooth white chest.
Mechanically I turned to seek the cause of her terror.
I saw a powerfully-built man standing square in the closet's doorway.
His face was coarse and red and brutal, and his small black eyes glowed
with an ugly twinkle as he surveyed his quarry. Upon the thick lips
there was a sinister smile, which broadened hideously as he glanced at
the nosegay held betwixt his finger and thumb--the little nosegay that
she had gathered so lightly from the painted plate. A wide-skirted coat
of red fell nearly to his knees and hid his breeches. His short black
periwig was bobbed, and a black silk tie was knotted about his neck.
Stockings were rolled above his knees, and a huge tongue thrust out from
each of his buckled shoes. And in his left hand was a heavy riding-whip
whose handle was wrought about with gold. This he kept clapping against
his leg with a smack and a ghastly relish that there was no mistaking.
Again that phantom chorus rose up and rang in my ears--
"_A woman, a spaniel, and a walnut tree,
The more you beat them, the better they be._"
But the jubilant note was gone, and, though the tune was the same, the
voices were harsh, and there was a dreadful mockery of woe in the stave
that made me shudder.
My lady heard it too.
"No, no, Ralph. You do me wrong. I plucked them myself. Who is there now
to send me posies? And I am sick--you know it. The last time----" The
hurrying voice faltered and stumbled piteously over a sob. "The last
time I was near spent, Ralph. So near. And now----You do not know your
strength. Indeed----Oh, Ralph, Ralph, what have I done that you should
use me so?"
The bitter cry sank into a dull moan, and, setting a frail white arm
across her eyes, she bowed her head upon it, as do weeping children, and
fell to sobbing with that subdued despair that spells a broken spirit.
My lord's withers were unwrung.
For a moment he stood still, leering like some foul thing that feasts on
Anguish. Then he let fall the nosegay and took the whip in his right
hand....
And I stood there frozen and paralysed and dumb.
Posing his victim with a horrible precision, the monster raised his
whip, but it struck a pendant lantern, and with an oath he turned to the
gallery, where he should find room and to spare for his brutality. At
this delay my lady fell upon her knees, in a wild hope, I think, to turn
her respite into a reprieve, but the beast cried out upon her, struck
down her outstretched hands, and, twisting his fingers in her soft dark
hair, dragged her incontinently out of the closet. The little whimper
she gave was awful....
And I stood there paralysed.
Five minutes, perhaps, had passed, slow-treading, pregnant minutes, when
my lord reappeared. He stood for a moment listening at the top of the
stairs, his chin on his shoulder. Then he stepped lightly down. His vile
face was pale and his eyes shifted uneasily. The devil looked out of
them yet, but Fright looked with him. Two paces brought the fellow
before the tallboy. He put up his hands as if to pull open a drawer,
when something about the whip he was holding caught his attention. For a
second he stared at it, muttering. Then, with a glance at the doorway,
he thrust the thing beneath the skirt of his coat and wiped it as it had
been a rapier....
Again he made to open a drawer, but the spell under which I lay seemed
to be lifted, and I shot out a hand and clapped him on the shoulder.
For all the notice he took, I might not have been there. The more
incensed, I shook the man violently....
* * * * *
"Repose," said Jonah, "is one thing, gluttonish sloth another. And even
if you have once again overestimated the capacity of your stomach, why
advertise your intemperance in a public place?" He lifted his hand from
my shoulder to look at his watch. "It's now ten minutes to three. Do you
think you can stagger, or must you be carried, to the car?"
I sat up and looked about me. Except for Jill, who was standing a-tiptoe
before a mirror, we were alone in the lounge.
"I've been dreaming," said I. "About--about----"
"That's all right, old chap. Tell Nanny all about it to-night, after
you've had your bath. That's one of the things she's paid for."
"Don't be a fool," said I, putting a hand to my head. "It's important, I
tell you. For Heaven's sake let me think. Oh, what was it?" My cousins
stared at me. "I'm not rotting. It was real--something that mattered."
"'Orse race?" said Jonah eagerly. "Green hoops leading by twelve lengths
or something?"
I waved him away.
"No, no, no. Let me think. Let me think."
I buried my face in my hands and thought and thought.... But to no
purpose. The vision was gone.
* * * * *
Hastily I made ready for our journey to Town, all the time racking my
brain feverishly for some odd atom of incident that should remember my
dream.
It was not until I was actually seated in the Rolls, with my foot upon
the self-starter, that I thought about Berry.
Casually I asked what had become of him.
"That's what we want to know," said Jill. "He motored down here with
Miss Childe, and now they've pushed off somewhere, but they wouldn't
say----"
"Childe!" I shouted. "Miss Childe! I've got it!"
"What on earth's the matter?" said Jonah, as I started the car.
"My dream," I cried. "I remember it all. It was about that tallboy."
"What--the one we saw?" cried Jill.
I nodded.
"I'm going to double my bid," I said. "We simply must have it, whatever
the price."
Disregarding Jonah's protests that we were going the wrong way, I swung
the car in the direction from which we had come, and streaked down the
road to Cranmer Place.
A minute later I dashed into the hall, with Jill at my heels.
The first person I saw was Mr. Holly.
"Has it come up yet?"
I flung the words at him, casting strategy to the winds.
"It 'as, Major, an' I'm sorry to say we've lorst it. I never see such a
thing. There was a gent there as meant to 'ave it. 'Cept for 'im, there
wasn't a bid after twenty-five pounds. I never thort we'd 'ave to go
over fifty, neither. Might 'a bin the owner 'isself, the way 'e was
runnin' us up. An' when we was in the eighties, I sez to meself, I sez,
'The one as calls a nundred first 'as it. So 'ere goes.' 'Eighty-nine,'
sez'e. 'A nundred pound,' sez I, bold-like. 'Make it guineas,' sez he,
as cool as if 'e was buyin' a naporth o' figs. I tell you. Major, it
fair knocked me, it did. I come all of a tremble, an' me knees----"
"Where's the fellow who bought it?" said I.
"I'm afraid it's no good, Major. I tell you 'e meant to 'ave them
drawers."
With an effort I mastered my impatience.
"Will you tell me where he is? Or, if he's gone, find out----"
"I don't think 'e's gorn," said Mr. Holly, looking round. "I 'alf
think----There 'e is," he cried, suddenly, nodding over my shoulder.
"That's 'im on the stairs, with the lady in blue."
Excitedly I swung round, to see my brother-in-law languidly descending
the staircase, with Miss Childe by his side.
"Hullo," he said. "Do you mind not asking me why I'm here?"
"It's not my practice," said I, "to ask a question, the answer to which
I already know." I turned to Mr. Holly and took out a one pound note.
"I'm much obliged for your trouble. 'Not a bid after twenty-five
pounds,' I think you said." I handed him the note, which he accepted
with protests of gratitude. "You did better than you know," I added.
"May I ask," said Berry unsteadily, "if this gentleman and you are in
collusion?"
"We were," said I. "At least, I instructed him to purchase some
furniture for me. Unfortunately we were outbid. But it's of no
consequence."
Berry raised his eyes to heaven and groaned/
"Subtraction," he said, "is not my strongest point, but I make it eighty
pounds. Is that right?"
I nodded, and he turned to Miss Childe.
"That viper," he said, "has stung the fool who feeds him to the tune of
eighty pounds. Shall I faint here or by the hat-stand? Let's be clear
about it. The moment I enter the swoon----"
"Still, as long as it's in the family----" began Jill.
"Exactly," said I. "The main thing is, we've got it. And when you've
heard my tale----"
"Eighty paper pounds," said Berry. "Can you beat it?"
"That'd only be about thirty-five before the War," said Miss Childe in a
shaking voice.
"Yes," said I. "Look at it that way. And what's thirty-five? A
bagatelle, brother, a bagatelle. Now, if we were in Russia----"
"Yes," said Berry grimly, "and if we were in Patagonia, I suppose I
should be up on the deal. You can cut that bit."
Miss Childe and Jill dissolved into peals of merriment.
"That's right," said Berry. "Deride the destitute. Mock at bereavement.
As for you," he added, turning to Jill, "your visit to the Zoo is
indefinitely postponed. Other children shall feel sick in the
monkey-house and be taken to smell the bears. But you, never." He turned
to Miss Childe and laid a hand on her arm. "Shut your eyes, my dear, and
repeat one of Alfred Austin's odes. This place is full of the ungodly."
* * * * *
My determination to carry the tallboy chest to London in the Rolls met
with stern opposition, but in the end I prevailed, and at six o'clock
that evening it was safely housed in Mayfair.
To do him justice, Berry's annoyance was considerably tempered by the
strange story which I unfolded during a belated tea.
The house and park which I had seen we were unable to identify, and the
Post Office Guide was silent as to the whereabouts of Colt. But the
excitement which Daphne's production of a tape-measure aroused was only
exceeded by the depression which was created by our failure to discover
anything unusual about the chest.
We measured the cornice and we measured the plinth. We measured the
frame and we measured the drawers. But if the linear measurements
afforded us little satisfaction, the square measurements revealed
considerably less, while, since no one of us was a mathematician, the
calculation of the cubic capacity proved, not only unprofitable, but
provocative of such bitter arguments and insulting remarks that Daphne
demanded that we should desist.
"All right," said Berry, "if you don't believe me, call in a consulting
engineer. I've worked the blinking thing out three times. I admit the
answers were entirely different, but that's not my fault. I never did
like astrology. I tell you the beastly chest holds twenty-seven thousand
point nine double eight recurring cubic inches of air. Some other fool
can reduce that to rods, and there you are. I'm fed up with it. Thanks
to the machinations of that congenital idiot with the imitation
mustachios, I've paid more than four times its value, and I'm not going
to burst my brains trying to work out which drawer would have had a
false bottom if it had been built by a dipsomaniac who kept fowls. And
that's that."
Tearfully Miss Childe announced that it was time for her to be going,
and I elected to escort her as far as the garage. As we stepped on to
the pavement--
"I know a lot more about you than you think," said I. "I never told you
half what I dreamed."
"What do you know?"
"Oh, nothing momentous. Just the more intimate details of your everyday
life. Your partiality to mushrooms, your recognition of Love, your
recklessness, pretty peculiarities of your toilet----"
"Good Heavens!" cried Miss Childe.
"But you wouldn't tell me your name."
"False modesty. Seriously you don't mean to say----"
"But I do. Nothing was hid from me. Your little bare feet----"
A stifled scream interrupted me.
"This," said Miss Childe, "is awful." We turned into the mews. "What are
you doing to-morrow?"
"Dictating. You see, there's a dream I want recorded."
"I shall expect you at half-past one. We can start after lunch. I've a
beautiful hand."
"I know you have. Two of them. They were bare, too," I added
reflectively.
With a choking sound, Miss Childe got into the car.
"Half-past one," she said, as she slid into the driver's seat.
"Without fail." I raised my hat. "By the way, who shall I ask for?"
Miss Childe flung me a dazzling smile.
"I've no sisters," she said.
Moodily I returned to the house.
I entered the library to find that the others had retired, presumably to
dress for dinner. Mechanically I crossed to the tallboy, which we had so
fruitlessly surveyed, and began to finger it idly, wondering all the
time whether my dream was wanton, or whether there was indeed some
secret which we might discover. It did not seem possible, and yet....
That distant voice rang in my ears. "Measurements tell, measurements
tell. But they never do that." _What?_
A sudden idea came to me, and I drew out the second long drawer. Then in
some excitement I withdrew the first, and placed it exactly upon the top
of the second, so that I might see if they were of the same size. _The
second was the deeper by an inch and a half._
I thrust my arms into the empty frame, feeling feverishly for a bolt or
catch, which should be holding a panel in place at the back of where the
first drawer had lain. At first I could find nothing, then my right hand
encountered a round hole in the wood, just large enough to admit a man's
finger. Almost immediately I came upon a similar hole on the left-hand
side. Their office was plain....
A moment later, and I had drawn the panel out of its standing and clear
of the chest.
My hands were trembling as I thrust them into the dusty hiding-place.
* * * * *
"Hullo! Aren't you going to dress?" said Jonah some two minutes later.
But I was still staring at a heavy riding-whip whose handle was wrought
about with gold.
CHAPTER III
HOW A MAN MAY FOLLOW HIS OWN HAT, AND BERRY TOOK A LAMP IN HIS HAND.
"What are you doing this morning?" said Daphne.
Berry turned to the mantelpiece and selected a pipe before replying.
"I have," he said, "several duties to discharge. All, curiously enough,
to myself. First, if not foremost, I must hire some sock-suspenders.
Secondly, I must select some socks for the sock-suspenders to suspend.
Is that clear? Neither last nor least----"
"As a matter of fact," said his wife, "you're going to help me choose a
present for Maisie Dukedom. Besides, I've got to go to Fortnum and
Mason's, and I want you----"
"To carry the string-bag. I know. And we can get the chops at the same
time. We'd better take some newspaper with us. And a perambulator."
"Tell you what," said Jonah, "let's all join together and give her a
Persian rug."
"That's rather an idea," said my sister. "And they wear for ever."
"You're sure of that, aren't you?" said Berry. "I mean, I shouldn't like
her to have to get a new one in about six hundred years. I like a
present to last."
Before Daphne could reply--
"How d'you spell 'business'?" said Jill, looking up from a letter.
"Personally," said I, "I don't. It's one of the words I avoid. If you
must, I should write it down both ways and see what it looks like."
The telephone bell began to ring.
"Wrong number, for a fiver," said Jonah. "They always do it about this
time."
Berry crossed the room and picked up the receiver. We listened
expectantly.
"Have I got a taxi! My dear fellow, I've got a whole school of them.
Would you like a Renault or a baby grand? What? Oh, I'm afraid I
couldn't send it at once. You see, I've only got one boy, and he's
having his hair cut. I can post it to you, and I should think you'll get
it to-morrow morning. No, I'm not mad. No, I'm not the cab-rank, either.
Well, you should have asked me. Never mind. Let's talk of something
else. I wonder if you're interested in rock-worms.... I beg your
pardon...." Gravely he restored the receiver to its perch. "Not
interested," he added for our information. "He didn't actually say so,
but from the directions he gave concerning them--happily, I may say,
quite impracticable----"
"Talking of telephoning," said Jonah uncertainly, "don't forget we've
got to ring up and say whether we want those tickets."
"So we have," said my sister. "Wednesday week, isn't it? Let's see." She
fell to examining a tiny engagement-book, murmuring to herself as she
deciphered or interpreted the entries.
I continued to survey the street.
It was a dark morning in December, and we were all In the library, where
there was a good fire, warming ourselves preparatory to venturing abroad
and facing the north-east wind which was making London so unpleasant.
The tickets to which Jonah referred would make us free of the Albert
Hall for a ball which promised to surpass all its predecessors in
splendour and discomfort. No one was to be admitted who was not clad in
cloth either of gold or silver, and, while there were to be no intervals
between the dances, a great deal of the accommodation usually reserved
for such revellers as desired rest or refreshment was being converted
into seats to be sold to any who cared to witness a pageant of unwonted
brilliancy. The fact that no one of us had attended a function of this
sort for more than five years, and the excellence of the cause on behalf
of which it was being promoted, were responsible for our inclination to
take the tickets, for, with the exception of Jill, we were not eager to
subscribe to an entertainment which it was not at all certain we should
enjoy.
At length--
"I suppose we'd better take the tickets," I said reflectively. "If we
don't want to go, we needn't use them."
"Oh, we must use them," said Daphne; "and we've got nothing on on
Wednesday, as far as I can see."
Berry cleared his throat.
"It is patent," he said, "that my personal convenience is of no
consideration. But let that pass. I have no objection to setting, as it
were, the seal of success upon the ball in question, provided that my
costume buttons in front, and has not less than two pockets which are at
once accessible and of a reasonable capacity. I dare say they weren't
fashionable in the fourteenth century. No doubt our forefathers thought
it a scream to keep their handkerchiefs in their boots or the seat of
their trousers. But I'm funny like that. Last time I had to give the
fellow in the cloak-room half a crown every time I wanted to blow my
nose."
"You four go," said Jonah. "I always feel such a fool in fancy dress."
"If you feel anything like the fool you look," said Berry, "I'm sorry
for you."
Jonah lowered _The Sportsman_ and surveyed the speaker.
"What you want," he said, "is a little honest toil. I should take up
scavenging, or sewerage. Something that appeals to you."
"I agree" said Daphne. "But you can't start this morning, because you're
coning with Jill and me to choose the rug." She turned to me. "Boy dear,
ring up and take those tickets, will you?"
I nodded.
The spirit of reckless generosity which is so prominent a characteristic
of "Exchange" was very noticeable this morning. The number I asked for,
which was faithfully repeated by the operator, was Mayfair 976. I was
connected successively to Hammersmith 24, Museum 113, and Mayfair 5800.
After a decent interval I began again.
"Kennington Road Police Station," said a voice.
"Kennington or Kennington Road?" said I.
"Kennington Road. There ain't no Kennington."
"Ain't--I mean, aren't there? I always thought.... Never mind. How are
the police?"
"I say this is Kennington Road Police Station," replied the voice with
some heat.
"I know you did. I heard you. Just now. If you remember, I asked you if
it was Kennington or Kennington Road, and you said----"
"'Oo _are_ you?"
To avoid any unpleasantness I replaced my receiver.
Two minutes later, after an agreeable conversation with "Supervisor," I
arranged to purchase five tickets for the Gold and Silver Ball.
* * * * *
"This," said the salesman, spreading a rug upon the top of a
fast-growing pile, "is a Shiraz."
"I suppose," said Berry, "you haven't got a Badgerabahd?"
"I never came across one, sir."
"They are rare," was the airy reply. "The best ones used to be made in
Germany and sent to Egypt. By the tune the camels had finished with
them, they'd fetch anything from a millionaire to a foxhound."
This was too much for Jill's gravity, and it was only with an effort
that Daphne controlled her voice.
"I think that's very nice," she said shakily. "Don't you?" she added,
turning to me.
"Beautiful piece of work," I agreed. "Some of it appears to have been
done after dinner, but otherwise...."
"The pattern is invariably a little irregular, sir."
"Yes," said Berry. "That's what makes them so valuable. Their lives are
reflected in their rugs. Every mat is a human document." With the
ferrule of his umbrella he indicated a soft blue line that was straying
casually from the course which its fellows had taken. "That, for
instance, is where Ethel the Unready demanded a latchkey at the mature
age of sixty-two. And here we see Uncle Sennacherib fined two measures
of oil for being speechless before mid-day. I don't think we'd better
give her this one," he added. "She-bat the Satyr seems to have got going
about the middle, and from what I remember----"
"Haven't you got to go and get some socks?" said Daphne desperately.
"I have. Will you meet me for lunch, or shall I meet you? I believe they
do you very well at the Zoo."
The salesman retired precipitately into an office, and my sister
besought me tearfully to take her husband away.
"I might have known," she said in a choking voice. "I was a fool to
bring him."
"Let's play at bears," said her husband. "It's a priceless game. Every
one gets under a different rug and growls."
Resignedly Daphne retired to the sofa. Jill sank down upon the pile of
rugs and shook silently. Observing that we were unattended, another
salesman was hurrying in our direction. Before he could launch the
inevitable question--
"I want a dog licence and some magic lanterns," said Berry. "You know.
The ones that get all hot and smell."
There was a shriek of laughter from Jill, and the unfortunate assistant
looked round wildly, as if for support.
Clearly something had to be done.
I stepped forward and slid my arm through that of the delinquent.
"Enough," said I. "Come and devil the hosier. If you're not quick all
the socks will be gone."
My brother-in-law eyed me suspiciously.
"And leave my baggage?" he demanded, pointing to Daphne. "Never. This is
a ruse. Where is the manager of the emporium? I dreamed about him last
night. He had brown boots on."
I consulted my watch before replying.
"By the time we get to the Club, Martinis will be in season."
"Do you mean that?" said Berry.
"I do."
"And a small but pungent cigar?"
I nodded.
He turned to the bewildered salesman.
"Please attend to these ladies. They want to choose an expensive-looking
rug. Preferably a Shiraz. No doubt they will be safe in your hands. Good
morning."
On the way out he stopped at a counter and purchased one of the
prettiest bead bags I have ever seen. He ordered it to be sent to
Daphne.
* * * * *
The omnibus was sailing down Oxford Street at a good round pace, but it
was the sudden draught from a side street that twitched my hat from my
head. I turned to see the former describe a somewhat elegant curve and
make a beautiful landing upon the canopy of a large limousine which was
standing by the kerb some seventy yards away. By the time I had
alighted, that distance was substantially increased. In some dudgeon I
proceeded to walk, with such remnants of dignity as I could collect and
retain, in tie direction of my lost property. Wisdom suggested that I
should run; but I felt that the spectacle of a young man, hatless but
otherwise decently dressed and adequately protected from the severity of
the weather, needed but the suggestion of impatience to make it wholly
ridiculous. My vanity was rightly served. I was still about thirty paces
from my objective, when the limousine drew out from the pavement and
into the stream of traffic which was hurrying east.
As my lips framed a particularly unpleasant expletive a bell rang
sharply, and I turned to see a taxi, which had that moment been
dismissed.
"Oxford Circus," I cried, flinging open the door.
A moment later we were near enough for me to indicate the large
limousine and to instruct my driver to follow her.
As we swept into Regent's Park, I began to wonder whether I should not
have been wiser to drive to Bond Street and buy a new hat. By the time
we had been twice round the Ring I had no longer any doubt on this
point; but my blood was up, and I was determined to run my quarry to
earth, even if it involved a journey to Hither Green.
More than once we were almost out-distanced, three times we were caught
in a block of traffic, so that my taxi's bonnet was nosing the
limousine's tank. Once I got out, but, as I stepped into the road, the
waiting stream was released, and the car slid away and round the hull of
a 'bus from under my very hand. My escape from a disfiguring death
beneath the wheels of a lorry was so narrow that I refrained from a
second attempt to curtail my pursuit, and resigned myself to playing a
waiting game.
When we emerged from the Park, my spirits rose and I fell to studying
what I could see of the lines of the limousine, and to speculating
whether I was being led to Claridge's or the Ritz. I had just pronounced
In favour of the latter, when there fell upon my ears the long regular
spasm of ringing which is a fire-engine's peremptory demand for instant
way. Mechanically the order was everywhere obeyed. The street was none
too wide, and a second and louder burst of resonance declared that the
fire-engine was hard upon our heels.
The twenty yards separating us from the limousine were my undoing. With
a helpless glance at me over his shoulder, my driver pulled in to the
kerb, and we had the felicity of watching the great blue car turn down a
convenient side street and flash out of sight.
The engine swept by at a high smooth speed, the traffic emerged from its
state of suspended animation, and in some annoyance I put my head out of
the window and directed my driver to drive to Bond Street.
I had chosen a new hat and was on the point of leaving the shop, when a
chauffeur entered with a soft grey hat in his hand. The hat resembled
the one I had Lost, and for a moment I hesitated. Then it occurred to me
that there were many such hats in London, and I passed on and out of the
door. Of course it was only a coincidence. Still....
Opposite me, drawn up by the kerb, was the large blue limousine.
The next moment I was back in the shop.
"I rather think that's my hat," I said.
The chauffeur looked round.
"Is it, sir? 'Er ladyship see it on top o' the canopy Just as I put 'er
down at the Berkeley. 'Wilkins,' she says, 'there's a 'at on the car.'
'A 'at, me lady?' says I. 'A 'at,' says she. 'Fetch it down.' I fetches
it down and shows it 'er. 'An' a nice noo 'at, too,' she says, 'wot must
have blowed orf of a gent's 'ead, an' 'e on top of a 'bus, as like as
not.' Then she looks inside and see the initials and the name o' the
shop. 'Take it back where it come from,' she says. 'They'll know oose it
is.' 'Very good, me lady,' said I, an' come straight down, sir."
I took off the hat I was wearing and bade him read the initials which
had just been placed there. He did so reluctantly. Then--
"Very glad to 'ave found you so quick, sir. Shall I tell them to send it
along? You won't want to carry it."
"I'll see to that," said I, taking it out of his hand. "Why didn't it
blow off your canopy?"
"The spare cover was 'oldin' it, sir. Must 'ave shifted on to the brim
as soon as it come there. I don't know 'ow long----"
"Best part of an hour," I said shortly, giving him a two-shilling piece.
"Good day, and thanks very much."
He touched his cap and withdrew.
A wrestle with mental arithmetic showed me that the draught which I had
encountered nearly an hour before had cost me exactly one and a half
guineas.
Ordinarily I should have dismissed the matter from my mind, but for some
reason I had no sooner let the chauffeur go than I was tormented by a
persistent curiosity regarding the identity of his considerate mistress.
If I had not promised to rejoin Berry for lunch--a meal for which I was
already half an hour late--I should have gone to the Berkeley and
scrutinized the guests. The reflection that such a proceeding must only
have been unprofitable consoled me not at all, so contrary a maid is
Speculation. For the next two hours Vexation rode me on the curb. I
quarrelled with Berry, I was annoyed with myself, and when the
hall-porter at the Club casually observed that there was "a nasty wind,"
I agreed with such hearty and unexpected bitterness that he started
violently and dropped the pile of letters which he was searching on my
behalf.
A visit to Lincoln's Inn Fields, however, with regard to an estate of
which I was a trustee, followed by a sharp walk in the Park, did much to
reduce the ridiculous fever of which my folly lay sick, and I returned
home in a frame of mind almost as comfortable as that in which I had set
out.
It was half-past four, but no one of the others was in, so I ordered tea
to be brought to the library, and settled down to the composition of a
letter to _The Observer_.
I was in the act of recasting my second sentence, when the light went
out.
By the glow of the fire I made my way to the door A glance showed me
that the hall and the staircase were In darkness. It was evident that a
fuse had come to a violent end.
I closed the door and returned to my seat. Then I reached for the
telephone and put the receiver to my ear.
"What an extraordinary thing!" said a voice. "And you've no idea whose
it was?"
"Not the slightest," came the reply. There was a musical note in the
girlish tone that would have attracted any one. "There it was, on the
top of the car, when we got to the Berkeley. It wasn't such a bad hat,
either."
"Excuse me," said I. "It was a jolly good hat."
A long tense silence followed my interruption. At length--
"I say, are you there, Dot?"
"Yes," came the reply in an excited whisper. "Who was that speaking?"
"I've not the faintest idea," rejoined the first voice I had heard.
"Somebody must have got on to our line. I expect----"
A familiar explosion severed the sentence with the clean efficiency of
the guillotine.
"Isn't that sickening?" said I. "Now we shall never know what her theory
was."
"It's all your fault, whoever you are. If you hadn't butted in----"
"I don't know what you mean," I retorted. "I was ushered into your
presence, so to speak, by _la force majeure_. French. Very difficult."
"Well, when you heard us talking, you ought to have got off the line."
"I should have, if you hadn't started disparaging my headgear. I repeat,
it was a hat of unusual elegance. It had a personality of its own."
"But it wasn't your hat we were discussing."
I sighed.
"All right," I said wearily. "It wasn't. Have it your own way. Some
other fool followed a silver-grey Homburg twice round the Park this
morning. Some other fool----"
A little gasp interrupted me.
"But how did you know my number?"
"I didn't. I don't. I never could have been about to should. Negatives
all the way. It's just chance, my dear. Chance with a Capital J--I mean
C. D'you mind if I smoke?"
Her reply was preceded by a refreshing gurgle.
"Not at all," said my lady. "D'you mean to say you chased us all that
way?"
"Further. And if it hadn't been for that fire-engine----"
"I remember. Wilkins turned down a side-street."
"Exactly."
"What a shame. Well, if you go to your hatter's you'll get it again."
"Your ingenuity is only equalled by your consideration. Isn't that
neatly put? You see, I'm writing a letter to _The Observer_, and, when I
get going, I can just say things like that one after another."
"How wonderful. But I'm afraid I'm interrupting you, and I shouldn't
like to deprive Humanity----"
"Your name," said I, "is Dot. But I shall call you Mockery. And if
you're half as sweet as you sound----"
"Good-bye."
I protested earnestly.
"Please don't say that. We've only just met. Besides ... why was Clapham
Common?"
"Clapham what?"
"No, Common. Why was Clapham Common?"
"Well, why was it?"
"I can't think, my dear. I thought you might know. It's worried me for
years."
There was a choking sound, which suggested indignation struggling with
laughter. Then--
"I've a good mind to ring off right away," said Dot in a shaking voice.
"That would be cruel. Think of the dance you led me this morning. More.
Think of the dances you're going to give me on Wednesday week."
"Oh, you're going, are you?"
"If you are."
"What as?" she demanded.
"A billiard-marker in the time of Henry the Fourth. And you?"
"I can't rise to that. I'm going as myself in a silver frock."
"Could anything be sweeter? A little silver Dot. I shall cancel the
body-snatcher--I mean billiard-marker--and go as Carry One. Then we can
dance together all the evening. By the way, in case I don't hear your
voice, how shall I know you?"
"A dot," said my lady, "is that which hath position, but no magnitude."
"Possibly," said I. "It hath also a dear voice, which, though it be
produced indefinitely, will never tire. All the same, in view of the
capacity of the Albert Hall, you've not given me much to go on."
"As a matter of fact, each of us is going as a parallel line. And that's
why I can tell you that I like the sound of you, and--oh, well, enough
said."
"Thank you, Dot. And why parallel lines?"
"They never meet. So long."
There was a faint chunk.
My lady had rung off.
Heavily I hung up my receiver.
When the others came in, I was still sitting in the dark at the table,
thinking....
* * * * *
The bitter wind reigned over London for seven long days, meting
untempered chastisement to its reluctant subjects, and dying unwept and
gasping on a Monday night. Tuesday was fair, still by comparison and
indeed. The sun shone and the sky was blue, and the smoke rose straight
out of its chimneys with never the breath of a breeze to bend it, or
even to set its columns swaying over the high roofs. There was a great
calm. But, with it all, the weather was terribly cold.
That rare beauty which Dusk may bring to the Metropolis was that evening
vouchsafed. Streets that were mean put off their squalor, ways that were
handsome became superb. Grime went unnoticed, ugliness fell away. All
things crude or staring became indistinct, veiled with a web of that
soft quality which only Atmosphere can spin and, having spun, hang about
buildings of a windless eve.
As Night drew on, Magic came stealing down the blurred highways. Lamps
became lanterns, shedding a muffled light, deepening and charging with
mystery the darkness beyond. Old friends grew unfamiliar. Where they had
stood, fantastic shapes loomed out of the mist and topless towers rose
up spectral to baffle memory. Perspective fled, shadow and stuff were
one, and, save where the radiance of the shops in some proud
thoroughfare made gaudy noon of evening, the streets of Town were
changed to echoing halls and long, dim, rambling galleries, hung all
with twinkling lights that stabbed the gloom but deep enough to show
their presence, as do the stars.
So, slowly and with a dazzling smile, London put on her cloak of
darkness. By eight o'clock you could not see two paces ahead.
On Wednesday morning the fog was denser than it had been the night
before. There was no sign of its abatement, not a puff of wind elbowed
its way through the yellow drift, and the cold was intense. The prospect
of leaving a comfortable home at nine in the evening to undertake a
journey of some two miles, clad in habiliments which, while highly
ornamental, were about as protective from cold as a grape-skin rug, was
anything but alluring.
For reasons of my own, however, I was determined to get to the Ball. My
sister, whom nothing daunted, and Jill, who was wild with excitement,
and had promised readily to reserve more dances than could possibly be
rendered, were equally firm. Jonah thought it a fool's game, and said as
much. Berry was of the same opinion, but expressed it less bluntly, and
much more offensively. After a long tirade--
"All right," he concluded. "You go. It's Lombard Street to a china
orange you'll never get there, and, if you do, you'll never get back.
None of the band'll turn up, and if you find twenty other fools in the
building to exchange colds with, you'll be lucky. To leave your home on
a night like this is fairly clamouring for the special brand of trouble
they keep for paralytic idiots. I've known you all too long to expect
sagacity, but the instinct of self-preservation characterizes even the
lower animals. What swine, for instance, would leave its cosy sty----"
"How dare you?" said Daphne. "Besides, you can't say 'its.' Swine's
plural."
"My reference was to the fever-swine," was the cold reply. "A singular
species. Comparable only with the deep-sea dip-sheep."
"I think you're very unkind," said Jill, pouting. "Boy can walk in front
with a lamp, and Jonah can walk behind with a lamp----"
"And I can walk on both sides, I suppose, with a brazier in either hand.
Oh, this is too easy."
"We can but try," said I.
"You can but close your ugly head," said Berry. "If you want to walk
about London half the night, looking like a demobilised pantaloon, push
off and do it. But don't try and rope in innocent parties."
To this insult I made an appropriate reply, and the argument waxed. At
length----
"There's no reason," said Jonah, "why we shouldn't go on like this for
ever. If we had any sense, we should send for Fitch and desire his
opinion. It's rather more valuable than any one of ours, and, after all,
he's more or less interested. And you can trust him."
Now, Fitch was our chauffeur.
Amid a chorus of approval, I went to the telephone to speak to the
garage.
I was still waiting to be connected, when--
"Is that the Club?" said a voice.
"No," said I. "Nothing like it."
"Well, there's a bag of mine in the hall, and----"
"No, there isn't," said I.
"What d'you mean?" was the indignant retort.
"What I say. Our hall is bagless."
"I say," said the voice with laboured clarity, "I say there is a bag in
the hall. A BAG. Hang it all, you know what a bag is?"
"Rather," said I heartily. "What you put nuts in. An uncle of mine had
one."
The vehemence with which the unknown subscriber replaced his receiver
was terrible to hear.
Ten minutes later Fitch entered the room.
"Can you get to the Albert Hall to-night, Fitch?" said Daphne.
"I think so, madam. If we go slow."
"Can you get back from the Albert Hall to-morrow afternoon?" said Berry.
"If I can get there, sir, I can get back."
"How long will it take?"
"I ought to do it in 'alf an hour, sir. I can push along in the Park,
where it's all straight going. It's getting along the streets as'll take
the time. It's not that I won't find me way, but it's the watchin' out
for the hother vehicles, so as they don't run into you."
"Bit of an optimist, aren't you?"
"I don't think so, sir."
"Thank you, Fitch," said Daphne hastily. "Half-past nine, please."
"Very good, madam."
He bowed and withdrew.
Triumphantly my sister regarded her husband.
"At making a mountain out of a molehill," she said, "no one can touch
you."
Berry returned her gaze with a malevolent stare. Then he put a thumb to
his nose and extended his fingers in her direction.
* * * * *
The unfortunate incident occurred in the vicinity of Stanhope Gate.
So far we had come very slowly, but without incident, and, in spite of
the fact that we were insufficiently clad, we were nice and warm. For
this, so far as Berry and I were concerned, two footwarmers and a pair
of rugs were largely responsible, for the elaborate nature of our
costumes put the wearing of overcoats out of the question. A
high-collared Italian cloak of the shape that was seen in the time of
Elizabeth made it impossible for me to wear a _surtout_ of any
description, and I was reduced to wrapping a muffler about my neck and
holding a woollen shawl across my chest, while Berry, in that puffed and
swollen array, which instantly remembers Henry the Eighth, derived what
comfort he could from an enormous cloak of Irish frieze which, while it
left his chest uncovered, succeeded in giving him a back about four feet
square.
Hitherto we had encountered little or no traffic, and an excellent
judgment, coupled with something akin to instinct, on the part of Fitch
had brought us surely along the streets; but here, almost before we knew
it, there were vehicles in front and on either side. Hoarse directions
were being shouted, lanterns were being waved, engines were running, and
a few feet away frantic endeavours were being made to persuade a pair of
horses to disregard twin headlights whose brilliancy was adding to the
confusion. Berry lowered the window.
"What about it, Fitch?"
"Well, sir, I'm just opposite the gate, but it's rather awkward to slip
across, in case I meet somethin'. If I 'as to pull up 'alf-way, we might
be run into."
"Which means that one of us must guide you over?"
"It'd be safer, sir."
By a majority of three it was decided that Berry should enact the _rôle_
of conducting officer. Jonah had a cold, and was sitting on the back
seat between the girls. I had no coat, and required the services of both
hands if I was to hold my shawl in position. Only my brother-in-law
remained. He did not go down without a struggle, but after a vigorous
but vain appeal "to our better natures," he compared himself to a lion
beset by jackals, commented bitterly upon "the hot air which is breathed
about self-sacrifice," and, directing that after death his veins should
be opened in the presence of not less than twelve surgeons, as a
preliminary to his interment in the Dogs' Cemetery, opened the door and
stepped sideways into the roadway.
His efforts to remove the offside oil lamp, which was hot to the touch,
were most diverting, and twice he returned to the window to ask us to
make less noise. At last, however, with the assistance of Fitch, the
lamp was unhooked, and a moment later our absurd link-boy advanced
cautiously in the direction of the gate.
Fitch let in the clutch.
We must have been half-way across, when a lamp of extraordinary power
came gliding up on the near side, confusing all eyes and altogether
effacing our guiding light.
Fitch applied his brakes and cried out a warning. Instantly the lamp
stopped, but its glare was blinding and our chauffeur was clearly afraid
to move.
In a flash I was out of the car and holding my shawl over the face of
the offender. At once Fitch took the car forward. As I fell in behind, I
heard Berry's voice.
"Thank you. I hope I didn't jostle your 'bus. Yes, I am completely and
utterly lost. No, I don't mind at all. I'm going to bale out the
drinking-trough and sleep there. And in the morning they'll take me to
the Foundling Hospital. Hullo. That's done it. Blind me first and then
run me down. What are you? A travelling lighthouse or an air-raid? Want
to get to Cannon Street? Well, I should go round by sea, if I were
you.... Well, if you must know, I'm Mary Pickford about to be trodden to
death in _Maelstrom_ or _Safety Last_. You know, you're not racing your
engine enough. I can still hear myself think...."
His voice grew fainter and stopped.
Vigorously I shouted his name. A cold draught, and we swept into the
Park. Fitch pulled up on the left-hand side.
"Berry, Berry!" I shouted.
In the distance I could hear voices, but no one answered me....
In response to my sister's exhortations I re-entered the car, and drew a
rug over my shivering limbs. The others put their heads out of the
windows and shouted for Berry in unison. There was no reply.
For a quarter of an hour we shouted at intervals. Then Jonah took the
other lamp and returned to the gate. He did not reappear for ten
minutes, and we were beginning to give him up, when to our relief he
opened the door.
"No good," he said curtly. "We'd better get on. He's probably gone
home."
"I suppose he's all right," said Daphne, in some uneasiness.
"You can't come to any harm on foot," said I. "Everything's going dead
slow for its own sake. And when I last heard him, he was having the time
of his life. Incidentally, as like as not, he'll strike a car that's
going to the Ball and ask for a lift."
"I expect he will," said Jill. "There must be any amount on the way."
"All right," said my sister. "Tell Fitch to carry on."
Twenty minutes later that good helmsman set us down at the main entrance
to the Albert Hall.
* * * * *
The conditions prevailing within that edifice suggested that few, if
any, ticket-holders had been deterred from attending by the conditions
prevailing without. The boxes were full, the floor was packed, the
corridors were thronged with eager shining revellers, dancing and
strolling and chattering to beat the band, which was flooding every
corner of the enormous building with an air of gaiety so infectious that
even the staid Jonah began to grumble that the dance would be over
before the girls emerged from the cloakroom.
The Field of the Cloth of Gold cannot have presented a more splendid
spectacle. True, there was nothing of the pageant about the function,
neither were Pomp and Chivalry among the guests. But Grace was there,
and Ease and Artlessness, lending the scene that warmth and life and
verity which Form and Ceremony do not allow.
The utter hopelessness of encountering my lady of the limousine was so
apparent that I relegated a ridiculous notion which I had been
harbouring to the region of things impossible, and determined to think
about it no more. For all that, I occasionally found myself scanning the
crowd of strangers and wondering whether there was one amongst them
whose voice I knew. It was during one of these lapses that I heard my
name.
"Who have you lost?" asked Maisie Dukedom, all radiant as a gold
shepherdess.
"Dance with me," said I, "and I'll tell you."
She glanced at a tiny wrist-watch.
"I promised I wouldn't stay more than an hour," she said, "and I ought
to be going. But I want to thank you for that beautiful rug. If I give
you the next, will you get the car for me as soon as it's over?"
"If you must go."
She nodded, and we pushed off into the rapids.
"And now, who is it?" she demanded.
"I thought you were going to thank me for the rug."
She made a little grimace of impatience.
"The best way I can thank you is to tell you the truth. Jack and I went
to buy a rug at Lucifer's."
"That's where we got yours."
She pinched my arm.
"Will you listen? We must have got to the shop directly you'd left. The
one you'd bought was still lying there. We both thought it feet above
any other rug there, and, when they said it was sold, I nearly cried. We
were so fed up that we said we wouldn't get a rug at all, and went off
to look at book-cases and chests of drawers. I didn't get home till six,
and, when I did, there was your present. Are you satisfied?"
"Overwhelmed."
"Good. Now, who's the lady?"
"That's just what I can't tell you. I know her voice, but not her
countenance. Her name is Dot--Lady Dot. She drives in a blue limousine
and she's here to-night."
Maisie assumed a serious air.
"This," she said, "is terrible. Does your life depend upon finding her?
I mean ... it's worse than a needle in a bundle of hay, isn't it?"
"Infinitely."
"You can wash out the limousine, because you won't see it. And the
voice, because you won't hear it. And her name, because she won't be
labelled. There's really nothing left, is there?"
Gloomily I assented.
"I'm sorry," said Maisie. "I'd like to have helped." The music slowed up
and died. "And now will you see me off?"
We made our way towards the exit.
I had found her footman and sent him to summon the car, and was standing
within the main entrance, when a familiar figure began with difficulty
to emerge from a car which had just arrived. Berry. Having succeeded in
projecting himself on to the steps, he turned to hand his companion out
of the car, as he did so presenting to the astonished doorkeepers a back
of such startling dimensions that the one nearest to me recoiled, for
all his seasoning.
I was wondering who was the muffled Samaritan that had brought him
along, when the chauffeur leaned forward as if to receive instructions
when to return. The light of the near-side lamp showed me the genial
features of that communicative fellow who had restored my grey hat some
nine days before.
Tall and slight, his mistress turned to the doorway, and I saw a
well-shaped head, couped at the throat by the white of an ermine stole.
Dark hair swept low over her forehead, an attractive smile sat on her
pretty mouth, and there was a fine colour springing in her cheeks.
She looked up to see me staring.
For a moment a pair of grey eyes met mine steadily. Then--
"Is the car here?" said Maisie over my shoulder. "Hullo, Berry."
Suddenly she saw his companion. "Betty, my dear, I thought you were in
Scotland."
Under pretence of arranging her wrap, I breathed Into her ear--
"Introduce me."
She did so without a tremor.
"And give him the next dance for me," she added. "I've just cut one of
his, and he's been most forgiving."
"Too late," said Berry. "I have not wasted the shining thirty minutes
which I have just spent in Lady Elizabeth's luxurious car. She knows him
for the craven that he is."
"I must judge for myself," said my lady, turning to me with a smile.
"He's given you a terrible----"
The sentence was never finished, for Berry turned to look at somebody,
and Maisie noticed his back for the first time. Her involuntary cry was
succeeded by a peal of laughter which attracted the attention of every
one within earshot, and in a moment my brother-in-law found himself the
object of much interested amusement, which the majority of onlookers
made no attempt to conceal.
My lady fled to her cloakroom. Hastily I escorted Maisie, still helpless
with laughter, to her car.
I returned to find Berry entertaining a large audience of complete
strangers in the vestibule with a fantastic account of his experiences
at Stanhope Gate. Concealing myself behind a pillar, I awaited Lady
Elizabeth's return.
"Yes," said Berry. "Betrayed by my accomplices, I found myself, as it
were, a shred of flotsam adrift in the darkling streets. Several people
thought I was the Marble Arch, and left me on the left. Others, more
discerning, conjured me to pull in to the kerb. Removing from my north
instep the hoof which, upon examination, I found to be attached to a
large mammal, I started to wade south-west and by south, hoping against
hope and steering by the Milky Way. Happily I had my ration-card, and I
derived great comfort from its pregnant directions, which I read from
time to time by the smell of the red-hot lamp which I was bearing...."
Here my lady appeared, and I led her into the corridor and on to the
floor.
As she had promised, she was wearing a silver frock. One white shoulder
was left bare, and a heavy fringe, that swayed evenly with her every
movement, made the sum line of her dress still more graceful. Silvery
stockings covered her gleaming ankles, and she was shod with silver
shoes.
For a little we spoke of Berry, and she told me how he had boarded her
car and respectfully begged her compassion. Then I spoke of the bitter
wind which had blown us about so inconsiderately, before the fog had
come to lay upon us stripes of another kind.
"I lost my hat one day," I added casually.
At that she jumped in my arms as if I had stabbed her, but I took no
notice, and we danced on.
Deliberately I recounted my loss and my pursuit, only omitting my
encounter with her chauffeur.
"I happen to know," I concluded, "that the lady of the limousine is here
to-night. Before the ball is over I shall have danced with her."
"But you've never seen her," she protested.
"I know her voice."
She laughed musically.
"Aren't you a bit of an optimist?" she queried.
"I don't think so. And she's just sweet."
"But if you don't know her name, how can you hope----"
"Her name," I said, "is Dot."
The hand upon my shoulder shook slightly.
We danced on.
At length--
"That's not very much to go on," said Elizabeth.
I sighed.
"Don't discourage me," I said. "When I find her, d'you think she'll give
me the seven dances she said she would?"
"O-o-oh, I never...." She choked and began to cough violently, so that I
drew her out of the press and into a vacant corner. "I never heard of
such a thing," she continued ingeniously.
"You wicked girl," said I. "Why was Clapham Common?"
For a moment she looked at me speechless. Then she began to laugh
tremulously....
With a crash the jazz came to an end. Almost immediately another
orchestra took up the running, and the strains of a valse rose up,
plaintive and tempting.
I looked at my lady.
"Have I earned my dances, Dot?"
She hesitated. Then--
"Carry on, Carry One," she said.
CHAPTER IV
HOW NOBBY CAME TO SLEEP UPON MY BED, AND BERRY FELL AMONG THIEVES.
Thoughtfully I read the letter again.
_... It nearly breaks my heart to say so, but I've got to part with
Nobby. I'm going to India to join Richard, you know, and I'm sailing
next week. I think you'd get on together. He's a one-man dog and a bit
queer-tempered with strangers--all Sealyhams are. But he's a good little
chap--very sporting, very healthy, and a real beauty. Let me know one
way or the other, and, if you'd like to have him, I'll send him round
with his licence and pedigree._
_Yours very sincerely,_
_JOSEPHINE CHILDE._
_P.S.--He's always slept on my bed._
The letter had been forwarded to me from London, for I was spending the
week-end in Leicestershire with the Scarlets.
I looked across the flagged hall to my host, who was leaning against a
table with a hunting horn in each hand, listening critically to the
noise he was making, and endeavouring to decide upon which of the two
instruments he could wind the most inspiring call.
"Live and let live," said I. With a grin Bertram suspended his
operations. "Listen. I've been offered a Sealyham."
"Take him," was the reply. "Your guests will regret it, but you won't.
They're high-spirited and they're always full of beans. Hard as nails,
too," he added. "You'll never kill him. Tell me." He brandished the horn
which he held in his right hand. "Don't you think this sounds the best?"
With an effort he produced a most distressing sound. "Or this?" Putting
the other to his lips, he emitted a precisely similar note.
"There's no difference at all," said I, crossing to a bureau. "They're
equally painful. They do it rather better at level-crossings on the
Continent."
"It is patent," said Bertram, "that you have no ear for music."
"All right," said I, making ready to write. "You try it. The hounds'll
all sit up and beg or something. I suppose it's too much to expect to
find a pen that'll write here," I added, regarding uneasily the enormous
quill with which the bureau was decorated.
"That's a jolly good pen," said Bertram indignantly. "Every one says
so."
I grunted my disbelief.
"Which end shall I use?"
"I recommend the right one," rejoined my host with ponderous sarcasm.
"But, as I have yet to meet any one who can read your writing, I don't
suppose it matters."
"I have often deplored the company you keep," said I, and with that I
selected a large sheet of paper and wrote as follows--
_DEAR MISS CHILDE,_
_I'd like to have Nobby very much. I'm awfully sorry for you, but I'll
be very kind to him for both your sakes. The reference you give him is
most satisfactory. I suppose he'll want one evening a week and every
other Sunday. And will he do in the front steps and spoil the knives? Or
only ruin the boots? I beg your pardon. For the moment I was thinking of
the cook who nearly engaged us. Only she wanted a pension after six
months' service. It was very nice of you to think of me. I'll write you
a proper letter when I send you a receipt. I return to Town to-morrow._
_Yours very sincerely,_
....
_P.S.--He shall always sleep on mine._
As I was addressing the envelope, the butler entered the hall. I gave
him the letter, and he promised to see that it was dispatched that day.
A knowledge of Bertram's household suggested this precaution.
* * * * *
As I had told Miss Childe, on the following day I returned to Town. It
was the last Monday but one before Christmas, and Jonah's birthday. To
do the latter honour, we were to dine all together at Claridge's and go
on to an entertainment, presented in a house in which smoking was
permitted, and of such a nature that you gained rather than lost by
arriving late.
I reached home with sufficient time only to bathe and dress, and it was
not until we were half-way through dinner that I learned that my letter
to Miss Childe had borne immediate fruit.
"By the way," said Daphne suddenly; "did the servants give you that
message from Josephine Childe?" I shook my head. "It was down on the
telephone block, but I suppose you were too hurried to look at that.
'Miss Childe's compliments, and Nobby will be round this evening.'"
Hardly I suppressed an exclamation. "We're all mad to know what it
means. Berry scents an intrigue and says it's a cipher."
"Worse," said I. "It's a dog."
"A dog?" cried Daphne and Jill together.
"A dog. You know. A small quadruped. Something like a cat, only with
hair."
"I know," said Berry excitedly. "I know. I've seen pictures of them."
"Fools. Both of you," said my sister. "What's she giving you a dog for?"
I explained the nature of the transaction.
"I have every reason to believe," I concluded, "that he will become one
of us."
The others exchanged meaning looks.
"Is he any particular breed?" said Berry. "Or just a pot-pourri?"
I braced myself with a draught of champagne before replying. Then--
"He's a Sealyham," I said.
Uprose a damnatory chorus.
"I do hereby protest," said Berry. "A barbarous breed, notorious for its
unprovoked ferocity. Peaceable possession of our tenement will be
unknown. Ingress and egress will be denied us. Substantial compensation
will be an everyday affair. Any more for the Pasteur Institute?"
"Rot," said I. "You're jealous."
"They've awfully uncertain tempers," said Daphne. "Maisie Dukedom had
one, and it went down and bit a new cook, who'd just come, before she'd
got her things off. They had to give her five pounds, put her up at an
hotel for the night, and pay her fare back to Bristol. And she had
wonderful references."
"Instinct," said I. "The dog saw through her. They ought to have been
grateful."
"Truth is," said Jonah, "they're a bit too sporting for London."
"Look here," said I, consulting my watch. "At the present moment the
poor little dog is probably fretting his soul out in the servants' hall.
So we'll have to keep him to-night. If he's the ravening beast you say
he is, he shall be fired to-morrow. If not, I shall stick to him. That's
fair enough, isn't it?"
"He's going to be a darling," said Jill. "I'm sure of it."
Before we left for the theatre, I telephoned home and spoke to the
butler.
"Is that you, Falcon?"
"It is, sir."
"Any dogs come for me?"
"Only one, sir."
"Is he all right?"
"Seems a little unsettled, sir, and--er--suspicious. He was rather short
with Fitch sir, when he come in, but he had his leggin's on, sir, so
there's no 'arm done. He's all right with me, sir."
I thought of the Dukedoms' cook and moistened my lips.
"See that he has a run on the lead before you go to bed," I said as
nonchalantly as possible, "and then put him upstairs on my bed."
"Very good, sir."
I returned to the lounge.
"Has the little bit of Heaven arrived?" said Berry
I nodded.
"Casualties?"
"Nil," said I. "Everything in the garden is lovely."
"No doubt," said Berry. "And the servants' hall? I suppose that's a
shambles."
"Don't be silly," said I. "He's as good as gold."
"There you are," said Jill staunchly.
"Cupboard love," said Berry. "You wait till we come in. I shouldn't be
surprised if he concentrated on me. They always aim high. It will be
your duty," he added, turning to Daphne, "to suck the wound. That is a
wife's privilege."
"The best thing," said Jonah, "is to hold a cigarette-end to the place."
"I beg your pardon," said Berry.
"Well, an iron takes such a time to heat."
In a voice shaken with emotion my brother-in-law stated that he should
regard any such treatment as a treacherous and aggravated assault upon
his person.
"Don't let there be any mistake about it," he concluded. "I'm not going
to have any amateur life-savers burning holes in my body in the hope of
being recommended by the Coroner's Jury. If I've got to die, I'll just
go mad in the ordinary way, thank you. I wonder who I shall bite first,"
he added pleasantly.
"Don't you worry," said I. "Think what hydrophobia means."
"What does it mean?"--suspiciously.
"A horror of water," said I. "You must have had it for years."
* * * * *
We left the theatre about eleven o'clock.
We had just come in, and I was disrobing in the hall--Berry was speaking
to the chauffeur--when an exclamation from Jill, who was on the point of
following Daphne and Jonah into the library, made me look round.
On the top step of the first flight of stairs stood a little white dog,
regarding us squarely. He might have been painted by Maud Earl. His ears
were pricked, his little forefeet placed close together, his tail was
upright. A gas officer would have said that he was "in the alert
position."
"Hello, Nobby," said I. "How goes it?"
At the sound of his name the terrier put his small head on one side with
an air of curiosity as evident as it was attractive.
"What a darling!" cried Jill.
As she spoke I heard a latch-key inserted, and the next moment Berry
pushed open the door.
Breathing out threatenings, the darling streaked down the stairs and
across the hall to the new-comer's feet, where he stood with his back
arched, one fore-paw raised, and bared teeth, emitting a long low snarl,
while there was a look in the bright brown eyes which there was no
mistaking.
My brother-in-law stood as if rooted to the spot.
Jill began to shake with laughter.
"What did I say?" said Berry, remaining motionless. "Can't enter my own
house now. It's all right, old chap," he added, gazing at Nobby with a
winning smile. "I belong here."
His statement was not accepted. Nobby, who was clearly taking no risks,
replied with a growl charged with such malevolence that I thought it
advisable to interfere.
I addressed myself to the terrier.
"Good man," I said reassuringly, patting Berry upon the shoulder.
Jonah contends that the dog construed my movement as an attempted
assault, which it was his duty to abet. In any event, in less time than
it takes to record, the growl culminated in that vicious flurry which
invariably accompanies the closing of jaws, there was a noise of torn
cloth, and with a yell Berry leapt for and reached the bookcase to which
he adhered, clinging rather than perched, after the manner of a startled
ape.
A roar of laughter from me and long, tremulous wails of merriment from
Jill brought my sister and Jonah pellmell upon a never-to-be-forgotten
scene.
The four of us huddled together, helpless with mirth, while Berry,
calling upon Sirius, clung desperately to the bookcase, and Nobby,
clearly interpreting our merriment as applause, stood immediately below
his victim, panting a little with excitement and wagging his tail
tentatively.
"After all," said my brother-in-law, "what is Death? A b-b-bagatelle.
Excelsior. Of course, I ought to have a banner, really. Just to wave as
I fall. Two and a half guineas these trousers cost. Think of the dogs
you could get for that. Excelsior. Seriously, I should get him a set of
false teeth and keep them locked up. It'll save in the end. Yes, I know
it's side-splitting. I'm only sorry I haven't got a tail. Then I could
hang from the electric light. As it is, what about calling off the dog?
Not that I'm not comfortable. And the air up here's lovely. But----"
With an effort I pulled myself together and laid a hand on Jill's
shoulder.
"Here," I said, nodding in Berry's direction, "here we have the
Flat-footed Baboon, an animal of diverting but vulgar habits. That
between its eyes is its nose. The only other known specimen is at
Dartmoor."
"D'you mind not talking?" said Berry. "I'm just thinking out your death.
They say pressing is very painful. Or would you rather call off the
mammal?"
I picked up Nobby and put him under my arm.
"You know, you're a wicked dog," said I.
For a moment his bright brown eyes met mine. Then with a sudden movement
he put up a cold black nose and licked my face....
Before we retired that night, Berry had admitted that Nobby had his
points, Nobby had accepted from Berry a caviare sandwich, and I had
handed my brother-in-law a cheque for two pounds twelve shillings and
sixpence.
* * * * *
It had been arranged that we should spend Christmas with the St. Martins
in Wiltshire, and we were to make the journey on the twenty-third. High
festival was to be held at Red Abbey, a fine old place with mullioned
windows and a great panelled hall that smacked of revelry and Christmas
cheer even in summertime. On Christmas Eve there was to be a dance, on
Boxing Day a tenants' ball, and on Christmas Day itself the house-party
of twenty souls was to assemble for dinner correctly attired after the
manner of children of tender years.
So far as clothes could do it, the spirit of childhood was to be
recaptured that night. Guests had been put upon their honour to eschew
evasion. Kilts and sailor suits had been forbidden, as was any suit or
frock which was not the monopoly of juveniles. Hair was to be worn down,
monocles and jewellery were banned. The trappings of Dignity were to be
rigidly put off, and Innocence courted with appropriate mockery. The
composition of the house-party, which had been carefully chosen,
promised an entertainment of more than ordinary interest.
On all three evenings dance music was to be discoursed by a famous
coloured band, whose services had long ago been retained for the
occasion.
A long-standing engagement made it impossible for Berry to accompany us
from London. On Tuesday he must leave Town for Hampshire, but
time-tables were consulted, and it was discovered that he could travel
across country on Christmas Eve, and, by changing from one station to
the other at the market town of Flail, arrive at Red Abbey in time for
tea.
"We can take your luggage with us," said Daphne. "You've got all you'll
want for the night at White Ladies."
It was half-past nine o'clock, and we were all in the library, resting
after the labours of the day.
Berry from the depths of the sofa grunted an assent.
"All the same," he added, "I must take something. Beard-eraser, for
instance, and a clean neckerchief. Same as when you enlist."
"Everything you can possibly want's there already. Mrs. Foreland knows
you're coming, and she'll put everything out."
"I have a weakness," replied her husband, "for my own sponge. Moreover,
foolhardy as it may seem, I still clean my teeth. The only question is,
what to put them in."
"What's the matter with your pockets?" said I.
"Nothing at present," said Berry. "That's why I shall want your
dispatch-case."
"Nothing doing," said I. "I refuse to subscribe to my own
inconvenience."
"Self," said Berry bitterly. "Why wasn't I born selfish? I've often
tried, but you can't bend an oak, can you? Anybody can have my shirt at
any time." Languidly he regarded his cuff. "No. Not this one, but almost
any other. My life has been one long unrecognized sacrifice. And what is
my reward?" He looked round about him with pitying eyes. "Poor bloated
worms, you little know the angel that labours in your midst." His own
being finished, with a sigh he took his wife's newly-lighted cigarette
from the ashtray which they were sharing. "I had a dream last night," he
added comfortably.
"What about?" said Jill.
"I dreamed," said Berry, "that I was a pint of of unusually broad beans.
Several people remarked upon my breadth. After spirited bidding, I was
secured by no less a personage than The McAroon himself, to whom I gave
violent indigestion within twenty-four hours. Pleased with this
attention, the laird erected in my memory a small bar at which the
rankest poison could be obtained at all hours by asking in Hebrew for
ginger ale. Which reminds me. I haven't taken my medicine." Meaningly he
regarded the tray which had just been placed upon a side-table. "The
doctor said I mustn't move about after meals, or I'd mix it myself. As
it is...."
He broke off and looked round expectantly.
"Idle brute," said Daphne. "I wonder you aren't afraid to----Where's my
cigarette? I only lighted one a moment ago."
"Perhaps it's behind your ear," suggested her husband. "Perhaps----"
"Where's the match you lighted that one from?" demanded his wife.
"Woman," said Berry indignantly, "you forget yourself. Besides, I didn't
use a match. I kindled it by rubbing two sticks together. Same as they
do in Guano, where the jelly comes from."
Here a diversion was caused by the opening of the door sufficiently to
admit a slightly damp white ball with a black spot, which projected
itself into the room as if possessed. Nobby. Exhilarated to frenzy by
the reflection that at least four days must elapse before any one could
be bothered to bathe him again, the terrier took a flying leap on to the
sofa, licked Daphne's face, put a foot in Berry's eye, barked, hurled
himself across the room to where Jonah was playing Patience, upset the
card-table, dashed three times round the room, pretended to unearth a
rat from the depths of Jill's chair, and finally flung himself exhausted
at my feet.
"I suppose this is what they call 'animal spirits,'" said Berry. "Or
'muscular Christianity.'"
"It is well known," said I, "that exercise after a bath is most
beneficial."
"No doubt," was the icy reply. "Well, next time I put my foot in your
eye, assume that I've had a bath and call it 'exercise,' will you?"
"Have you written to the St. Martins?" said Daphne, "to say that you'll
be a day late?"
"I have. The masterpiece is on the writing-table, awaiting insertion in
an envelope."
I picked up the letter and read aloud as follows--
_MADAM,_
_I am disposed to refer to your invitation to make one of the
house-party due to assemble on the 23rd instant._
_I am to say that a malignant Fate has decreed that I shall not dignify
your hovel before the evening of the following day._
_The feeling of profound disappointment which this announcement will
provoke should be tempered by the reflection that you are fortunate
indeed to have secured so enchanting a personality for your festivities,
which, however hopeless they may appear, cannot fail to be galvanized
into some show of life by my inspiring presence._
_My luggage and the four ungrateful parasites who have so long battened
upon my generosity will arrive on the 23rd, as arranged. One of the
latter has stealthily acquired a mongrel, which, provided he can obtain
the necessary permit, he proposes to bring with him. My protests against
this abuse of hospitality have been received with that vulgar insolence
which I have, alas, learned to expect._
_I am to request you to remember that I am visiting you incognito, as
the Duke of Blackpool, and that at this season it is my practice to
consume a mince-pie and a bottle of beer before retiring._
_I am, Madam,_
_Your obedient Servant,_
_BERRY PLEYDELL._
"Outrageous," said Daphne, "perfectly outrageous. However, there's no
time to write another, so it had better go. Boy, be a dear and answer
that invitation for me."
"This lecture thing?" said I, holding up a gilt-edged card.
My sister nodded.
"We'll have to go, I suppose."
In a flowing hand I wrote as follows--
_Major and Mrs. Pleydell have much pleasure in accepting the Countess of
Loganberry's kind invitation to attend Professor La Trobe's lecture on
the 3rd of January._
When I had read this aloud--
"What an interesting subject!" said Berry. "We shall enjoy ourselves."
* * * * *
Three days later I was in the act of fitting a new blade to my
safety-razor, when Berry entered the room fully dressed.
"I'm just off," he said, "but you may as well see what you've done
before I go."
"What d'you mean?" said I.
"Read that."
He handed me a letter. I laid down my instrument of torture and read as
follows--
_SIR,_
_I am directed by the Countess of Loganberry to acknowledge your
communication of the 20th inst., and to say that she cannot recollect
the inclusion of your name among those of the guests invited to assemble
at Pride Langley the day after to-morrow._
_In these circumstances I am to express the hope that you will not
trouble to favour her with your attendance upon the 24th inst. or any
other date, and that you will take immediate steps to prevent the
dispatch of your luggage and of the four parasites, for which, should
they arrive, she can accept no responsibility._
_I am to add that the Countess is not interested in the acquisition of
the animal to which you refer, or in the nature of the victuals with
which it is your habit to console yourself of nights._
_I am, sir,_
_Your obedient servant,_
_FREDERICK BOLETON._
I stroked my chin thoughtfully. Then--
"I don't want to say anything rash," said I, "but it looks as if a
mistake had been made."
"But what a brain!" observed my brother-in-law. "What insight!" He
glanced at his watch. "And it's not half-past nine yet."
"It is wonderful, isn't it? Now, all we want is a line from Diana St.
Martin to say how glad she is you're going to the lecture on January the
3rd. Do you agree, brother?"
"I am not here," said Berry loftily, "to discuss your crime. Have you
anything to say why the Court should not give you judgment?"
"Yes. First, this communication must be answered forthwith. Secondly,
Mr. Boleton is clearly a menace to Society. It is therefore our painful
duty, brother, to proceed with the operation, inadvertently begun, of
pulling his leg until he will require a pair of field glasses to see his
own foot."
With a grin Berry clapped me on the back.
"I leave it to you, partner. Make the telegram windy. Wind always
inspires wind." He took the letter out of my hand and slipped it into
his pocket. "You won't want this document. And now I must be going. See
you to-morrow, laddie."
The next moment he was gone.
Within the hour the following telegram was on its way to Pride Langley--
_Your letter not understood aaa cannot consent to cancel my arrangements
at this hour aaa expect me tomorrow as arranged aaa four tons of luggage
entrained last night aaa loose-boxes containing parasites due to arrive
at 5.15 to-day aaa imperative these should be watered and fed within one
hour of arrival aaa acknowledge._
* * * * *
Although the train had yet to make its appearance, the platform was
crowded. Somewhere at the far end Jonah was waiting to see that our
heavy baggage was placed in the van, while Daphne, Jill and I were
standing beside such articles as we were proposing to take in the
carriage, hoping feverishly that, when the train pulled in, we should
find ourselves opposite to a first-class coach.
"Thath a nithe dog," said an unpleasant voice on my left.
I turned to see a very dark gentleman, clad in a light tweed overcoat
and cloth-topped boots, with a soft grey hat on the back of his head,
smoking an insanitary cigar and smiling unctuously upon Nobby, who was
tucked under my arm.
"Yes," I said.
"A Thealyham, ain't he?"
"I believe so."
Undeterred by my evident reluctance to converse, the fellow bowed his
head as if to examine the dog, at the same time expelling a cloud of
disgusting smoke.
In the twinkling of an eye the terrier had sneezed, wriggled from under
my arm, and slipped to the ground.
I was just in time to see him scuttle in the direction of a crate of
live turkeys which he had vainly struggled to approach when we passed
them a few minutes earlier.
Suppressing a violent desire to choke his assailant, I thrust the rug I
was carrying into Jill's arms, and started to elbow my way towards the
turkeys.
A sudden stutter of barks, a fearful burst of gobbling, and a chorus of
indignant cries suggested that the sooner I arrived to take charge, the
better for all concerned.
As I pushed forward, the press swayed expectantly towards the edge of
the platform, and I glanced round to see the train pulling in.
Thereafter my passage to the scene of the uproar was Homeric. Every step
was contested, not actively, but with that jealous determination not to
yield which distinguishes the prospective traveller who has bought an
expensive ticket and, by no means certain that the supply of seats will
be equal to the demand, interprets every movement as an attempt to
secure an unfair advantage. I eventually arrived to find in progress a
game which I prefer not to describe. Suffice it that, though Nobby was
leading, two inspectors and a clergyman with an umbrella were running
him pretty close, while the turkeys were simply nowhere.
With a well-timed dive I secured the terrier just as he evaded a left
hook from the Church, and, disregarding the loud tones in which several
intending passengers announced their conception of the qualifications of
a dog-owner, fought my way back to where I had left the girls. The fact
that the latter had managed to reserve and hold four seats did them, to
my mind, infinite credit.
It was not until we were gliding out of the station that I looked round
for my dispatch-case.
I did so in vain.
An investigation of the spaces between the seats and the floor proved
equally fruitless.
I sank back in my seat with a groan.
"Where did you see it last?" said Daphne.
"I'm hanged if I know, but of course it was with the other things. I put
it in the hall last night, and Falcon knows I always take it wherever I
go."
"I'll swear nothing was left on the platform," said Jill.
"Nor in the car," said Jonah. "I looked there myself."
"I've not the slightest doubt it's been pinched," said I. "It's just the
sort of thing that'd take a thief's fancy. By Jove!" I cried suddenly.
"What about the swab in the light coat? I'll bet any money he took it."
"What swab?" said Jonah.
"Oh, a complete mobsman. Came and jawed about Nobby and then gassed him
with his cigar till he did a bunk. That put me out of the way. With the
girls trying to get a carriage, the rest was easy. Gad I Why doesn't one
think of these things? It's locked, and there's nothing terribly
valuable in it, but I do hate being stung."
"First stop Flail," said Jonah, looking at his watch. "You've got the
best part of two hours to think it over. I should write out a synopsis
of the crime in duplicate, with a description of the missing
property----"
"And a plan of the station, I suppose, showing the all-red route I took
to the crate of turkeys, with a signed photograph of Nobby. I've only
got to attach my birth certificate, and there you are."
"Gentleman seems annoyed," said Jonah, unfolding the _Pall Mall_.
Jill laid a hand on my arm, and I laughed in spite of myself.
"He'll be fed to the teeth when he gets it open," I said. "I admit the
cigars are not what he's accustomed to, but I'd like to meet the fence
that'll take a nainsook pinafore and a couple of bibs."
This comfortable reflection in some sort consoled me. All the same, when
we steamed into Flail I sent for the station-master and handed that
gentleman two short descriptions--one of the dispatch-case, and the
other of the thief. He promised readily to keep a look-out and inform
the police.
"An' I'll telephone down the line, sir. You never know. He might be on
the train, or even 'ave got out 'ere." I made as if to leave the
compartment. "Ah, he'd be gone by now, an' you're just off. But I'll do
what I can. Your address, Red Abbey. Very good, sir."
* * * * *
Diana St. Martin was at the station to meet us, in a fever of excitement
and good-will. Her obvious disappointment at Berry's absence was allayed
by our assurance that he would appear the next day.
"Of course," she announced, "I was thrilled to learn that you were going
to the Loganberrys' lecture, but I couldn't help feeling that there was
some news, more relevant to your visit, which I ought to know. Hullo! Is
he going to honour us?" she added, pointing to Nobby, who, with tail
erect and eyes looking sideways, was considering whether or no to accept
the advances of an Irish terrier in the spirit in which they were
patently offered. "What a darling!"
"If you please," said I.
"Splendid. And now come along. We can all get In the limousine, and
there's a van for your luggage."
During the drive from the station I told her the style of the letter she
should have received, and disclosed the grave construction placed upon
it by the actual recipient. When I told her that Mr. Boleton and I were
now in telegraphic communication, she gave a little crow of delight.
"How priceless!" she cried. "Perhaps there'll be a wire when we get
back."
She was wrong. But only by a few minutes. Before we had been at Red
Abbey for a quarter of an hour, a telegram was handed to me. Falcon had
forwarded it from London.
_Forced to regard your conduct as molestful delivery of your luggage
will not be accepted parasites will remain boxed and receive necessary
attention at your expense and risk pending instructions regarding their
removal which should be communicated to station-master direct any
attempt on your part to enter Pride Langley to-morrow will be forcibly
resisted._
At once I arranged for the dispatch of the following reply--
_At great inconvenience have arranged to postpone arrival of luggage and
parasites until to-morrow aaa impossible however to stop elephants seven
of which should reach you by road before midnight and remainder by 2
a.m. aaa as already slated am unable at this juncture to cancel my visit
but shall certainly never stay at Pride Langley again aaa if "molestful"
means what I think it does I shall point you out to the large parasite._
We spent a hilarious evening.
The Irish terrier showed Nobby that hospitality for which the Isle is
famous. He made him free of the house and grounds, showed him the way to
the kitchen, and indicated by occupation the most comfortable chairs.
Nobby returned the compliment by initiating his host into the mysteries
of a game which consisted of making a circuit of the great hall,
ascending the main staircase, entering and erupting from any bedroom of
which the door stood open, and descending the staircase--all of this
recurring--with the least possible delay. The Irish terrier proved an
apt pupil, and, so far as can be judged, if Diana's maid had not
encountered them in the midst of their seventh descent, and been upset,
and of vexation nipped by an angry competitor for her pains, the game
might have gone on for weeks. This incident, however, followed by the
production of a hunting whip, brought the game to a close and the host
to his senses. Hastily he repaired a grave omission, and a moment later
Nobby was cowering in comparative, if inconvenient, safety beneath an
enormous tallboy chest.
After dinner cards were brought forth and _vingt et un_ was played. In a
weak moment I volunteered to "carry" Jill, who played with an _abandon_
which was at once exhilarating and extremely expensive. Her persistent
refusal to "stand" on anything less than twenty-one commanded an
admiration which, but for my presence, would have been universal. The
only run of luck with which her audacity was favoured coincided with my
tenure of the bank, during which period she took fifty-two shillings off
me in seven minutes.
As I pushed her counters across--
"I've heard of robbing Peter to pay Paul," I said gloomily, "but never
of robbing Charlie to pay Chaplin. Why couldn't you do this when some
one else had the bank?"
"You shouldn't deal me such cards," was the ungrateful reply.
A moment later she turned up a "natural" with a dazzling smile.
There was a roar of laughter.
"Of course, this is Berry's luck," said I. "And it needs Berry's tongue
to cope with it. A little more, and I shall ship for Australia before
the mast. Yes, I'll have a brandy-and-soda, please. Of appropriate
strength."
"In inverse proportion to your luck?" said my host.
I shook my head.
"That would require Berry's liver. Besides, tomorrow morning I'm going
to help your wife to decorate the church. I admit I was a fool to
promise, but it's done now, and----"
The chocolate which Diana threw at me ricochetted from my cheekbone on
to the hearth, and was devoured by Nobby in the very teeth of his host.
I looked at my watch with a sigh. "I suppose I ought to have told you
that chocolates fall without the limit of his digestive powers. The last
one took about four hours. And it's eleven now. I am glad I came."
My statement was received with ironical cheers....
It may or may not have been the chocolate, but in the small hours of the
following morning it became expedient that I should admit Nobby into the
open air. And so it came about that I stood patient and shivering, in a
fur coat and pyjamas, at a garden door, while a small white rough-haired
thing heaved upon the lawn twelve decent yards away.
The sailing moon, clear-cut, issued her cold white light and showed the
sleeping country silent but troubled A pride of clouds rode high in
heaven, and the same strong careless wind that bore them swept from the
leafless boughs of earth below a boisterous melody, that rose and fell
in league-long phrases, far as the ear could follow. Nature was in a
royal mood. Her Cap of Maintenance was out, Pomp was abroad, the trump
of Circumstance was sounding. A frown of dignity knitted her gentle
brow, and meadows, roads, thickets and all her Court wore a staid look
to do her honour. Only her favourite, water, dared to smile, and the
flashing lake flung back the moonlight with long ripples of silvery
laughter.
Somewhere close at hand an owl cried, and Nobby answered the challenge
with a menacing bark. I whistled, and he came running, the very
embodiment of health and spirits. Marvelling at a dog's recuperative
powers, I reopened the door. As I did so, I heard the stable clock
striking. Three o'clock.
* * * * *
Twelve hours later a servant entered the library to arouse me from a
refreshing sleep with the news that some one desired to speak with me
upon the telephone. Heavily I made my way to the lobby and put the
receiver to my ear, but the first sentence I heard drove the lingering
rearguard of Slumber headlong from my system.
It was an Inspector of Police, speaking from Flail.
"I think we've got your case, sir. Pigskin, seventeen inches by ten, an'
a blue line runnin' acrost it?"
"That's right," I said excitedly.
"An' it's still locked. No initials. But we'd like your formal
identification. Besides.... I don't know whether you could manage this
afternoon, sir, but if you could.... You see, it's a matter of a charge.
We're detainin' a man in connection with the thef'."
"Oh, I don't want to proceed. So long as I get the case back...."
"'Fraid we can't 'ardly do that, sir."
I groaned. Then--
"How far is Red Abbey from Flail?"
"Matter o' twelve mile, sir. Wouldn't take you no time in a car."
"I'll see what I can do. Good-bye."
Both cars were needed to meet incoming guests, but a Miss Doiran, who
had arrived that morning in her own two-seater, offered to drive me to
Flail and back before tea.
A quarter of an hour later we were on the road.
She listened attentively to the story of my loss. When I had finished--
"You'd little enough to go on, I must say. I'd never have dared to say
that man had stolen it."
"It was a bow at a venture," I admitted. "But it seems to have come off.
All the same, I don't want to charge the chap. He deserves six months,
if only for his cigar, but I'd rather somebody else sent him down."
"I expect they'll make you. After all, it was a pretty smart capture,
and the police'll be fed to the teeth if you don't go through with it."
"Considering it was stolen in London, I didn't see any sense in telling
the police at Flail, but the station-master apparently knew his job."
With a temporarily disengaged hand Miss Doiran caressed Nobby, who was
seated between us.
"I've always wanted a Sealyham," she sighed.
"You could have had one for nothing at three o'clock this morning."
"Did he have you up?"
I nodded.
"And down and out." I sighed. "It was a handsome night. Very cold,
though. I thought of you all warm in bed."
"What a wicked story! You never knew of my existence."
"I thought of everybody. That embraced you. It's extraordinary how
little women can wear without dying of exposure, isn't it?"
Miss Doiran glanced at her sleeve.
"This coat is lined with chamois leather," she said. "I don't know what
more you want."
"Yes. But your stockings aren't. When you stepped into the car I was
quite frightened for you."
My companion's chin rose, and she stared through the wind-screen with
compressed lips.
"I'm as warm as toast," she said defiantly.
"If you're no warmer than the toast I had for breakfast this
morning----"
"You should get up earlier."
"I thought I told you I was up and about at three."
"That doesn't count."
"Doesn't it? All right. You get up at three tomorrow and think of me all
warm in bed, and see whether it counts. By the way, don't say you wear
pyjamas, because I can't bear it."
Miss Doiran addressed our companion.
"Is he often like this, Nobby?"
I explained.
"It's not idle curiosity. You see, I'm editing a directory to be called
_That's That_. It's really a short list of the few nice people left who
aren't anybody: with just a word or two about their manners, failings,
virtues, if any, and the attire they usually affect when off duty. It
won't say when they were born, but why they were born."
"That'll sell it," said Miss Doiran.
"So you see. May I know now, or must I wait outside the bathroom?"
"I'm afraid," said Miss Doiran, "that you must wait outside the
bathroom."
I sighed.
"If it is pyjamas," said I, "I shall scream."
Some geese hissed as we swept by. The noise was inaudible, but the
hostility of their gesture was patent. Its effect upon Nobby was
electrical. Exasperated to madness by the gratuitous insult, he made the
most violent attempts to leave the car, only pausing the better to lift
up his voice and rave at his, by this time distant, tormentors. His
dignity was outraged and, what was much worse, unavenged.
"D'you still want him?" I shouted, holding fast to his collar with one
hand, while with the other I strove to muffle his cries with the rug.
"Every time."
I swallowed before replying.
"Of course, this is exceptional," I said weakly. "He can be very good if
he likes."
Miss Doiran laughed.
"I believe you just dote on him."
I lugged the white scrap out of the welter of rug and set him up on my
knees. Surprised, he stopped barking and looked me full in the eyes.
Then he thrust a cold nose into my face. Almost roughly I put him away.
"I believe you're right," I said.
Ten minutes later we drove up to Flail Police Station.
I thrust Nobby under my arm and stepped out of the car. Then I turned to
the girl.
"I'll be as quick as I can," I said.
"Right oh!"
Sure enough it was my dispatch-case. In some embarrassment I described
the ridiculous contents. Then I produced the key and confirmed my own
words.
"I must say," I said, "you haven't wasted much time. How did you recover
it?"
The inspector in charge looked grave.
"'E's a nice little lot, what took this case, sir. I shouldn't wonder if
there was 'alf a dozen warrants out for 'im. As plausible a rogue as
ever I see, an' as full o' swank as a negg is o' meat. Told us the tale
proper, 'e did. One o' the kind as gets through by sheer nerve. Now,
nine out o' ten'd 'ave bin through this 'ere case last night and throwed
it away. But 'e's not that sort. Walks through the town this afternoon
with it under 'is arm, as bold as brass." A 'plain-clothes' man entered
and stood waiting. "All ready? Right." He turned again to me. "An' now,
sir, we'll be obliged if you'll step into the yard and see if you see
anybody you recognize. I'd like the identification to be regular."
Perceiving my chance of doing the thief a good turn, I assented readily.
It was my fixed intention to recognize no one.
I followed the policeman into a high-walled yard.
Variously attired, six men were drawn up in line.
"Do you see anybody you know?" repeated the inspector.
I did. _Standing third from the left, with a seraphic look on his face,
was Berry._
For a moment I stood spellbound. Then I began to laugh uncontrollably.
"Go on, you fool," said Berry. "Indicate the felon. I admit it's one up
to you, but I'll get my own back. You wait. Why, there's Kernobby." The
terrier slipped from under my arm and ran to where he stood. "Good dog.
But I mustn't play with you till the gentleman in blue boxcloth says so.
'Sides, I'm a giddy criminal, I am." He addressed my companion. "Will
you dismiss the parade, inspector? Or shall we do a little troop drill?"
I turned to the bewildered officer.
"It's all a mistake, inspector. This is my brother-in-law. He must have
borrowed the case without my knowledge. For goodness' sake, get these
men away and we'll explain things."
The inspector hesitated, but Nobby's frantic efforts to lick the
suspect's face settled the matter. Gruffly he acted upon my suggestion,
and the little squad broke up.
In the charge-room we satisfied him of the sincerity of our statements
and exonerated him from blame. To do the police justice, Berry was
dressed more or less in accordance with my hazy description of the
"thief," and it was my dispatch-case. Courtesies were exchanged, I
signed a receipt for my property, and Berry, his effects restored, gave
a poor devil, who was brought in to be charged with begging, enough to
console the latter for his detention on Christmas Day.
A moment later I was introducing him to Miss Doiran.
"Thief and brother-in-law in one," I said. "A terrible combination."
Berry took off his hat and put a hand to his head.
"Whose reign is it?" he said dazedly. "When I entered the gaol it was
King George."
* * * * *
With his back to the fire in Daphne's bedroom, Berry proceeded to clear
the air.
"If any one of you four had a tenth of the instinct of a village idiot,
it would have occurred to those diseased fungi which you call your minds
that I had said I should want Boy's dispatch-case. But let that pass.
"I was walking through Flail according to plan, and following the
tram-lines according to the drivelling advice given me by an outside
porter with a suggestive nose. Need I say that before I had covered a
hundred yards the lines branched? I was still praying for the soul of my
informant, when I observed that a large blue constable, who was
apparently lining the street, was staring at me as at an apparition.
Courteously I gave him 'Good day.' In return he handed me a look which I
shall try to forget, and asked me how I came by the dispatch-case.
"'_I_ didn't,' I said. 'I came by train.'
"Noticing that he seemed piqued by my reply, I made haste to suggest
that we should repair to a neighbouring dairy and consume two small
glasses of butter milk and a sponge cake at my expense. Not to be
outdone in hospitality, he made a counter-proposal, which, after some
hesitation, I thought it discreet to accept. Our progress through the
streets afforded the acme of gratification to the populace, most of whom
accompanied us with every circumstance of enthusiasm and delight.
Altogether it was most exhilarating.
"My reception at the police-station was cordial in the extreme. They
told me their theory, and I gave them my explanation. The fact that the
beastly case was still locked was naturally in my favour. In fact,
everything in the garden was lovely, and I was on the point of pushing
off to catch my train, when that fool of an inspector asked if I'd leave
my card, as a matter of form.
"'I'm afraid I haven't one on me,' I said, 'but I daresay I've got an
envelope,' and I started to feel in my pockets. There was only one paper
there, and that wasn't an envelope. _It was Mr. Boleton's letter._
"The moment I saw what it was, I knew I was done. I couldn't put it
away, or they'd get suspicious. If I showed it them, they'd regard me as
a first-class crook, and very big game. I suppose I hesitated, for the
Inspector leaned forward and took it out of my hand.
"The rest was easy. I was reviled, searched, cautioned, examined,
measured, described and finally told that I should be detained pending
inquiries. I was then immured in a poisonous-looking dungeon, which, to
judge from its atmosphere, had been recently occupied by an
anti-prohibitionist, and, from its condition, not yet reached by the
chambermaid.
"Yes," he concluded, "you have before you the complete gaol-bird."
"How did you spend your time?" said Jonah.
"B-b-beating my wings against the crool b-b-bars," said Berry. "My
flutterings were most painful. Several turnkeys broke down. The rat
which was attached to me for pay and rations gambolled to assuage my
grief. Greatly affected by the little animal's antics, I mounted the
plank bed and rang the b-b-bell for the b-b-boots. In due course they
appeared full of the feet of a gigantic warder. I told him that I had
not ordered vermin and should prefer a fire, and asked if they'd mind if
I didn't dress for dinner. I added that I thought flowers always
improved a cell, and would he buy me some white carnations and a
b-b-begonia. His reply was evasive and so coarse that I told the rat not
to listen, and recited what I could remember of 'The Lost Chord.'" He
turned to me. "The remainder of my time I occupied in making plans for
the disposal of your corpse."
"You've only yourself to thank," said I. "You shouldn't have borrowed
the goods. I acted in good faith."
"I wonder," said Berry, "where one gets quicklime."
* * * * *
It was during the interval between the third and fourth dances, both of
which had been given me by Miss Doiran, that the latter consulted her
programme.
"I'm dancing the fifth," she announced, "with the Duke of Blackpool." I
started violently, but she took no notice. "I think you know him. He was
released from prison this afternoon. As my aunt's secretary, I've had
some correspondence with him under the name of Boleton."
My brain began to work furiously.
"I scent collusion," I said. "Diana is in this."
Miss Doiran laughed.
"She rang me up directly she got your note about the lecture. The rest
sort of came natural. I believe you were responsible for the telegrams.
I congratulate you. The elephants were a brain-wave. My aunt was tickled
to death by them."
"How dreadful! I mean--it's very nice of her. I'm afraid it was all
rather impertinent."
"If so, we were the first to offend, and, after all, Major Pleydell has
expiated his crime."
"And he's fixed my murder for the first week In January. There's really
only you left."
"Oh, I'm punished already," said Miss Doiran. "I've lost my heart. And
he doesn't love me."
"Would it be indiscreet to ask his name?"
Miss Doiran looked round the room.
"When I last saw him," she said, "he was talking to an Irish terrier."
CHAPTER V
HOW JILL'S EDUCATION WAS IMPROVED, AND DAPHNE GAVE HER HUSBAND THE SLIP.
"As I have frequently observed," said Berry, "your education has been
neglected. I'm not blaming those responsible. Your instruction must have
been a thankless task."
"I should think the masters who taught you enjoyed their holidays."
Such a reply from Jill was like a sudden snowstorm in June, and Berry,
who was in the act of drinking, choked with surprise. When he had
recovered his breath--
"You rude child," he said. "My prizes are among my most cherished
possessions."
"Where d'you keep them?"--suspiciously.
"Chancery Lane Safe Deposit," was the reply. "When I die I shall leave
them to the Wallace Collection. The shoes I wore at the first night of
_Buzz-Buzz_ are already promised to the Imperial Institute."
"When you've quite finished," said Daphne, "I'll suggest that we go up
for the day on Friday. I don't mean to-morrow, but the one after."
"It's a little early in the year," said I. "All the same, there's no
reason why we shouldn't go up again later on. It's always open."
"If the weather holds," said Jonah, "it will be looking wonderful."
Oxford. Some reference had been made to the city while we sat at
dessert, and in the midst of a banana Jill had confessed that she had
never been there. The rest of us knew the place well. Berry had been at
Magdalen, Jonah at New College, and I had fleeted four fat years
carelessly as a member of "The House." But, while my sister had spent
many hours there during my residence, Jill had not once visited her
brother--largely, no doubt, because there was a disparity of six years,
in her favour, between their ages.
"I warn you," said Berry, "that I may break down. My return to the
haunts of early innocence may be too much for me. Yes," he added, "I
shouldn't be at all surprised if I were to beat my breast somewhere near
The Martyrs' Memorial."
"An appropriate locality," said Jonah. "If my memory serves me, it was
for a crime committed almost under the shadow of that monument that you
were irrevocably sent down."
Berry selected a cigar before replying. Then--
"Only a malignant reptile would refer to that miscarriage of justice. It
was not my fault that the animal which I employed exceeded its
instructions and, as it were, pushed on after attaining its objective."
"You expected it to consolidate the position?" said I.
"Precisely. To dig itself in. It was like this. It was expedient--no
matter why--that a large boar should be introduced into Balliol College
shortly before 10 p.m. A gigantic specimen was accordingly procured and
brought to the Broad Street entrance in a hansom cab. It was then
induced to take up a position commanding the wicket-door. The
juxtaposition of two hurdles, held in place by my subordinates,
frustrated any attempt at untimely evacuation. At a given signal the
customary kick was administered to the gate, indicating that some person
or persons sought admission to the foundation. Unhesitatingly the porter
responded to the summons. The wicket was opened, and the pig passed in."
"I think it was very cruel," said Daphne.
"Not at all," said her husband. "There was more succulent grass upon the
lawns of Balliol than was dreamt of in its ferocity. To continue. My
mission accomplished, I entered the hansom and drove to the Club. It was
during an unfortunate altercation with the cabman, who demanded an
unreasonably exorbitant sum for the conveyance of the pig, that I was
accosted by a proctor for being gownless. The cab was still redolent of
its late occupant, and, although nothing was said at the time, it was
this which afterwards led the authorities to suspect my complicity. Even
so, nothing would have been said but for a most distressing development.
"I had expected that the pig would confine its attention to the
quadrangles and gardens and to startling such members of the college as
happened casually to encounter it. Fate, however, decreed otherwise. It
appears that the creature's admission coincided with the opening of a
door which led directly into the Senior Common Room, where the Master
and Fellows were still discussing classical criticism and some '34 port.
Attracted by the shaft of light and the mellow atmosphere of good cheer
and hilarity which streamed into the comparative gloom of the
quadrangle, the pig made a bee-line for the doorway, and a moment later
the exclusive circle was enriched by the presence of this simple and
unaffected guest. The details of what followed have never transpired,
but from the Senior Proctor's demeanour at a subsequent interview, and
the amount of the bill for damage which I was requested to pay, I am
inclined to think that the pig must have been a confirmed Bolshevist."
"I hope you apologized to the Master."
"I did. I received in reply a letter which I shall always value. It ran
as follows--
_SIR,_
_I beg that you will think no more of the matter. Youth must be served.
Many years ago I assisted your father in a somewhat similar enterprise.
Till the other evening I had always believed that the havoc provoked by
the introduction of a dancing bear into a concert-room could not be
surpassed. I am now less certain._
_Yours very faithfully,_
.."
"I think," said Jill, "he was very forgiving."
"It was deep," said Berry, "calling to deep. By the way, you'll all be
pleased to hear that I have received peremptory instructions 'within one
week to abolish the existing number by which this house is
distinguished, and to mark or affix on some conspicuous part thereof a
new number, and to renew the same as often as it is obliterated or
defaced.' Selah."
"Whatever," said Daphne, "do you mean?"
"Sorry," said Berry. "Let me put it another way. Some genii,
masquerading as officials, have got a move on. Snuffing the air of
'Reconstruction,' they have realized with a shock that the numbers of
the houses in this street have not been changed for over half a century.
Thirstily they have determined to repair the omission. We've always been
'38.' In a few days, with apologies to Wordsworth, we shall be '7.' A
solemn thought."
"But can we do nothing?"
"Certainly. In that case somebody else will obliterate the existing
number, and I shall be summoned to appear before a Justice of the
Peace."
"It's outrageous," said Daphne. "It'll cause endless confusion, and
think of all our notepaper and cards. All the dies will have to be
scrapped and new ones cut."
"Go easy," said I. "After a decent interval they'll alter the name of
the street. Many people feel that The Quadrant should be renamed 'The
Salient,' and Piccadilly 'High Street.' I'm all for Progress."
"Is this renumbering stunt a fact?" said Jonah. "Or are you Just being
funny?"
"It's a poisonous but copper-bottomed fact," said Berry. "This is the
sort of thing we pay rates and taxes for. Give me Germany."
"Can't we refuse?"
"I've rung up Merry and Merry, and they've looked up the law, and say
there's no appeal. We are at the mercy of some official who came out top
in algebra in '64 and has never recovered. Let us be thankful it wasn't
geography. Otherwise we should be required to name this house 'Sea View'
or 'Clovelly.' Permit me to remark that the port has now remained
opposite you for exactly four minutes of time, for three of which my
goblet has been empty."
"I think it's cruel," said Jill, passing on the decanter. "I think----"
"Hush," said Berry. "That wonderful organ, my brain, is working."
Rapidly he began to write upon the back of a _menu_. "We must inform the
world through the medium of the Press. An attractive paragraph must
appear in _The Times_. What could be more appropriate than an epitaph?
Ply me with wine, child. The sage is in labour with a song." Jill filled
his glass and he drank. "Another instant, and you shall hear the
deathless words. I always felt I should be buried in the Abbey. Anybody
give me a rhyme for 'bilge'? No, it doesn't matter. I have ingeniously
circumvented the crisis."
He added one line, held the card at arm's length, regarded it as a
painter a canvas, sighed, and began to read.
_A painful tale I must relate.
We used to live at thirty-eight,
But as we hope to go to heaven,
We've come to live at number seven.
Now, if we'd lived at number nine,
I'd got a simply priceless line--
I didn't want to drag in heaven,
But nothing else will rhyme with seven._
"Soldier, mountebank, and rhymester too!" said Jonah. "And yet we
breathe the same air."
"I admit it's strange," said my brother-in-law. "But it was foretold by
my predecessor. I think you'll find the prophecy in _Henry the Fifth_.
'And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, Neighboured by fruit of
baser quality.' My game, I think. What?"
* * * * *
As was fitting, St. George's Day dawned fair and cloudless. Her
passionate weeping of the day before dismissed, April was smiling--shyly
at first, as if uncertain that her recent waywardness had been forgiven,
and by and by so bravely that all the sweet o' the year rose up out of
the snowy orchards, dewy and odorous, danced in the gleaming meadows and
hung, glowing and breathless, in every swaying nursery that Spring had
once more built upon the patient trees.
The Rolls sailed through the country, proudly indifferent to hill or
dale, melting the leagues to miles with such swift deadliness as made
you sorry for the lean old road that once had been so much to reckon
with.
I was on the point of communicating this Quixotic reflection to Agatha
Deriot, who was seated in front between Jill and myself, when there fell
upon my reluctant ears that heavy sigh which only an expiring tire can
heave. As I slowed up, it occurred to me that the puissance of the roads
of England was still considerable.
"Which is it?" said Agatha.
"Off hind, I fancy." We were in the midst of a pleasant beechwood, and I
pulled in to the side of the road with a grunt. "If it had to be, it
might have happened in a less pleasing locality."
"I gather," said Berry's voice, "I gather that something untoward has
befallen the automobile. Should I be wrong, correct me and explain the
stoppage."
"With that singular clarity of intellect which never fails to recognize
the obvious, you have correctly diagnosed the case. We have picked up a
puncture."
"Speak for yourself," said Berry. "I always let them lie. I did gather a
bunch of bursts once, but----"
"Sorry," said I. "I forgot how near we were to Oxford. What I meant was
that some hostile body of a sharp nature had penetrated a tire, thus
untimely releasing the air hitherto therein confined."
"Thank you," said Berry. "Experience leads me to anticipate a slight
delay, the while you effect the necessary repairs. I shall therefore
compose myself to slumber and meditation. Possibly I shall toy with a
cigarette. Possibly----"
"Your programme will, I fear, miscarry for more than one reason. In the
first place, you're sitting on the jack. In the second place, clumsy
fool though you are, Jonah can change the wheel quicker if you help
him." With that I climbed out of the driver's seat, and lighted a
cigarette. "Who," I added, "will come for a little walk?"
"I'm coming," said Daphne, setting aside the rug and rising from her
seat between Jonah and her husband.
"I forbid you," said the latter, "to consort with that blasphemous
viper."
My sister leaned down and kissed him.
"A little gentle exercise," she said, "will do you good. I expect it'll
make you hot, so take your coat off. Then you'll have something to put
on again."
Coldly Berry regarded her.
"How long," he said, "did it take you to work that out?"
As we strolled down the sun-flecked road in the wake of Miss Deriot and
Jill, I turned and looked back at the car. Something was squatting on
the tarmac close to the petrol tank. The fact that Jonah was unstrapping
a spare wheel suggested that my brother-in-law was taking exercise....
My sister slid an arm through mine, and we walked idly on. The road
curled out of the wood into the unchecked sunlight, rising to where its
flashing hedgerows fell back ten paces each, leaving a fair green ride
on either side of the highway. Here jacketed elms made up a stately
colonnade, ready to nod their gay green crests at each stray zephyr's
touch, and throwing broad equidistant bars of shadow across the fresh
turf and the still moist ribbon of metalling beyond. Two piles of stones
lay heaped upon the sward, and, as we drew near, we heard the busy chink
of a stone-breaker's hammer, a melodious sound that fitted both morning
and venue to perfection. Again I fell to thinking on the old coach
road....
The stone-breaker was an old, old man, but the tone in which he gave us
"Good day" was blithe and good to hear, while he looked as fit as a
fiddle.
"You work very fast," said I, as he reached for a mammoth flint.
"Aye," he said. "But it come easy, sir, after so many year."
"Have you always done this?" said Daphne.
The old fellow plucked the gauze from his brow and touched his battered
hat.
"Naught else, m'm. Nine-and-seventy year come Michaelmas I've kep' the
Oxford road. An' me father before me."
"That's a wonderful record," said I amazedly. "And you carry your years
well."
"Thank you, sir. There's a many as tells me that. I'll be ninety-one in
the month o' June. An' can't write me own name, sir."
"That's no shame," said I. "Tell me, you must remember the coaches."
"That do I. They was took off my road just afore I started breakin'
meself, but long afore that I used to bring me father 'is dinner, an' I
remember them well. Many a time I've watched the 'Tantivy' go by, an'
Muster Cracknell drivin'. Always nodded to father, 'e did, an' passed
the time o' day. An' father, 'e'd wave 'is 'ammer, an' call me an' tell
me 'is name, an' what a fine coachman 'e were. 'Twas a Birmin'ham coach,
the 'Tantivy,' but Muster Cracknell used to 'and over at Oxford. London
to Oxford was 'is stretch, sir. An' back."
"Isn't that wonderful?" said Daphne.
Agatha and Jill, who had joined us, agreed in awestruck whispers.
The old fellow laughed.
"I've seen the coaches, m'm, and I've seen the motors, an' they can't
neither of them do without the road, m'm. As it was in the beginnin', so
ever it shall be. Soon I'll pass, but the road'll go on, an' others'll
break for 'er. For she must needs be patched, you know, m'm, she must
needs be patched...."
We gave him money, and he rose and uncovered and pulled his white
forelock with the antique courtesy of his class. As we turned away, I
pinched Daphne's arm.
"I'll bet no man's ever done that to you before."
She shook her head, smiling.
"I don't think so. It was very nice of him."
"What would you call him?" said Jill. "A stone-breaker?"
I raised my eyebrows.
"I suppose so. Or roadman."
"I know," said Agatha softly. "He's a Gentleman of the Road."
"Good for you," said I. "The title never became a highwayman one half so
well."
As I spoke, the Rolls stole up alongside. We climbed in, Jill and I
sitting behind for a change. With a foot on the step, Daphne looked at
her husband.
"Did you get very hot?" she said.
"I did," said Berry. "Every pore in my body has been in action. I always
think it's so nice to start a day like that."
"How would you like to break stones," said I, "for seventy-nine years?"
Jonah let in the clutch.
"I perceive," said Berry, "that you are under the influence of drink. At
the present moment I am more interested in the breaking of backs. Have
you ever jacked up a car?"
"Often. You must stoop to conquer."
"Stoop? You must have a comic spine. My trunk kept getting in the way.
And my nether limbs were superfluous. To do it properly you should be
severed below the armpits."
"The correct way," said I, "is to face the jack, and then bend backwards
till you face it again. Then it's simplicity itself. You work, as it
were, between your own legs."
My brother-in-law sighed.
"I used to do my boots up like that, when an agent in Germany. In that
way no one could assault me from behind. Those detailed to stab me in
the back were nonplussed and in several cases shot for incompetence."
A quarter of an hour later we slid over Magdalen Bridge.
* * * * *
The venerable city was unchanged. That same peculiar dignity, which no
impertinence can scathe, that same abiding peace, the handiwork of
labouring centuries, that immemorial youth, which drains the cups of
Time and pays no reckoning--three wonders of the world, rose up to meet
us visitors.
Oxford has but two moods.
This day she was _allegro_. The Sunshine Holyday of Spring had won her
from her other soberer state, and Mirth was in all her ways. Her busy
streets were bright, her blistered walls glowed and gave back the warmth
vouchsafed them, her spires and towers were glancing, vivid against the
blue: the unexpected green, that sprawled ragged upon scaly parapets,
thrust boldly out between the reverend mansions and smothered up the
songs of architects, trembled to meet its patron: the blowing meadows
beamed, gates lifted up their heads, retired quadrangles smiled in their
sleep, the very streams were lazy, and gardens, walks, spaces and
alleyed lanes were all betimes a-Maying.
Perhaps because it was St. George's Day, ghosts that the grey old stones
can conjure up, at Fancy's whim came thronging. The state of Kings rode
by familiar, shrewd virgin Majesty swayed in a litter down the roaring
streets, and the unruly pomp of a proud cardinal wended its scarlet way
past kneeling citizens. Cavaliers ruffled it in the chequered walks,
prelates and sages loaded the patient air with discourse, and phantom
tuck of drum ushered a praise-God soldiery to emptied bursaries. With
measured tread statesmen and scholars paced sober up and down the flags,
absorbed in argument, poets roamed absent by, and Law and bustling
Physic, learned and gowned and big with dignity, swept in and out the
gates of colleges whose very fame, that spurred their young intent, they
lived to magnify.
After a random drive about the city, in the course of which we visited
St. John's and Magdalen, we put the car in a garage and repaired to _The
Mitre_ for lunch.
Such other spectacles as we proposed to view lay more or less close
together, and could be inspected more conveniently without the car,
which claimed the constant vigilance of one of us just at the very times
we least could spare it.
Fortified by the deference shown him by his scout, whom we had
encountered while visiting his old rooms overlooking the Deer Park, my
brother-in-law had in some measure succeeded--so far as Jill and Agatha
were concerned--in investing his sojourn at Magdalen with an ill-merited
dignity; and Daphne, Jonah and I were quite justifiably delighted when a
prosperous-looking individual, with a slip in his waistcoat and a
diamond ring, left his table and laid a fat hand familiarly upon Berry's
shoulder.
"Hullo, Pleydell, old man. How's things? Don't remember me, I suppose.
Lewis." He mentioned the name of the minor college he had once adorned.
"You were at Magdalen, weren't you?"
Taken completely by surprise, Berry hesitated before replying in a tone
which would have chilled a glacier.
"Er--yes. I'm afraid my memory's not as good as yours. You must excuse
me."
"That's all right," said the other, with a fat laugh. "I was one of the
quiet little mice," he added archly, "and you were always such a gay
dog." To our indescribable delectation he actually thrust a stubby
forefinger into his victim's ribs.
"Er--yes," said Berry, moving his chair as far from his tormentor as
space would permit. "I suppose you were. One of the mice, I think you
said. You know, I still don't seem to remember your face or name. You're
quite sure...."
"Anno Domini," was the cheerful reply. "We're both older, eh? Don't you
remember the night we all----But p'r'aps I oughtn't to tell tales out of
school, ought I, old bean?" Again the forefinger was employed, and its
owner looked round expectantly. Beads of perspiration became visible
upon Berry's forehead, and Jonah and I burst into a roar of laughter.
Greatly encouraged by our mirth, Mr. Lewis beamed with geniality, and,
slapping Berry upon the back with the diamond ring, commended the good
old times, observed that the undergraduates of to-day were of a very
different class to "me and you," and added that England was in such a
rotten state that, if the Coal Controller had not personally begged him
to "carry on," he would have "up stick and cleared out to Australia long
ago."
At his concluding words Daphne sat up as if she had been shot. Then,
administering to me a kick, which she afterwards explained had been
intended for Berry, she smiled very charmingly.
"I suppose you're just up for the day, Mr. Lewis. As we are," she
inquired.
With an elaborate bow Mr. Lewis agreed, and in a moment the two were
carrying on an absurd conversation, to which Jonah and I contributed by
laughing unfeignedly whenever a remark justified an expression of mirth.
Jill and Agatha were on the edge of hysteria, and Berry sat sunk in a
condition of profound gloom, from which he occasionally emerged to fix
one or other of us with a stare of such malevolence as only served to
throw us into a fresh paroxysm of laughter.
Had Mr. Lewis for one moment appreciated the true cause of our
amusement, he would have been a broken man. Happily his self-confidence
was sublime, and, when Daphne finally bowed and remarked with a dazzling
smile that no doubt he and her husband would like to have a little chat
after luncheon, he retired in a perfect ecstasy of gratification.
When he was out of earshot--
"Why not ask him to come and live with us?" said Berry. "He could go to
the Loganberrys' ball on Tuesday, and Jonah and I can put him up for the
Club. He might even stay for Ascot."
"I think he's a topper," said I.
"Old college pal, I suppose," said Jonah. "Let's call the Stilton after
him."
"Listen," said Daphne. "Didn't you hear him say he was something to do
with coal? Well, the moment he said it, I thought of what I've been
trying to remember ever since yesterday morning. We've got three
hundredweight left, and we've had more than our ration already. For
goodness' sake, get him to do something for us."
"You wicked woman," said Berry. "You wicked, deceitful woman."
"Nonsense," said Daphne. "It's just a stroke of luck. Of course, he
mayn't be able to help, but it's worth trying. If you want to do without
a hot bath--let alone fires--for the next three months, I don't."
"And I am to be the cat's-paw?" said Berry. "I'm to have the felicity of
hobnobbing with that poisonous bounder----"
"You've done it before," said I. "He remembers it perfectly."
"Vermin," said Berry, "you lie. My association with that little pet was
confined to the two solitary occasions upon which I was so misguided as
to be the guest of a club of which he was not a member, but which was,
nevertheless, an institution of the college which he adorned. After
dinner it was customary to pay a short but eventful visit to the rooms
of the most unpopular man in college. On each occasion Mr. Lewis's rooms
were unanimously selected."
"Nemesis," said I. "He's getting his own back."
"I rejoice to think," said my brother-in-law, "that it was I who
conceived the idea of secreting Chinese figs in every pair of his boots
and shoes that could be found. If I remember, we used the best part of
two boxes."
"I depend upon you," said Daphne. "Be civil to him for five minutes, and
we'll--we'll wait for you between St. Mary's and The Radcliffe."
"But how nice of you! I should hate to suggest that you were not taking
any risks. Of course, a punt moored in midstream would be safer."
"He might be worse," said I. "I admit I could spare the diamond, but at
least he's not wearing a cummerbund and sand shoes."
"Hush," said Jonah. "He's keeping them for Henley. You won't catch him
out on dress. Ah me," he added with a sigh, "I love to see old chums
meet again, don't you?"
"There's nothing so touching," said I, "as a reunion of souls. To revive
the memory of boyhood's intimacy, of joys and troubles shared, of visits
to the tuck-shop.... If the truth were known, I expect they were always
together, sort of inseparable, you know."
"No doubt. Naturally, Berry's a bit shy at first, but that's often the
way. Before the afternoon's out, he'll be calling him 'Erb' again, and
they'll have changed hats."
"This," said Berry, "is intolerable. A little more and I shall burst
into large pear-shaped tears. Let's pay the bill, will you?" He rose to
his feet. "And now I'm going to remember more things in five minutes
than Mr. Lewis has forgotten in thirteen years. Will two tons be
enough?"
"Make it three," said Daphne.
"And we are to reassemble between St. Mary's and The Radcliffe. Or was
it between The Radcliffe and St. Mary's?"
"We shall wait five minutes and no more," said I. "That gives you one
minute forty seconds a ton, or five seconds a hundredweight. Keep the
home fires burning."
"Mathematician and imitation humorist," said Berry. "Isn't it wonderful?
Don't forget to let me know what the bill comes to. Just as a matter of
interest."
He sauntered in the direction of Mr. Lewis, who was watching him with
the air of a terrier that hopes to be taken out for a walk....
I called for the bill, and five minutes later the rest of us were
strolling across the cobbles under the shadow of The Radcliffe Camera.
"As soon as he comes," said Jonah, "we'll go to New College. We can sit
in the gardens there for a bit and suck soda-mints. When the process of
digestion is completed, we can see the chapel and hall, and then one of
us can borrow a gown, and we'll look in at The Bodleian."
The project seemed admirable, but, as has been frequently remarked, Man
but proposes.
More than four minutes had elapsed, and we were casually sauntering
towards The High, to see if Berry was in sight, when the latter swung
round the corner of Brasenose with Mr. Lewis stepping joyously by his
side.
Instead of his grey Homburg, my brother-in-law was wearing a soft
clerical hat which was too small for him. The ludicrous effect created
by this substitution of headgear can be more easily imagined than
described.
For a moment we wavered. Then Jill gave a shriek of laughter, and we
broke and scattered something after the manner of a mounted
reconnoitring patrol that has unexpectedly "bumped into" a battalion of
the enemy. Our retreat, however, was not exactly precipitate, and we
endeavoured to invest it with a semblance of hypocrisy not usually
thought necessary in warfare; but it was in no sense dignified, and only
a child, too young to differentiate between right and wrong, could have
failed to recognize the true motive which prompted our withdrawal.
Seizing Agatha by the arm I turned left about, pointed vehemently to the
dome of the Camera, and hurried her in the direction of the gate which
admitted to that institution. Simultaneously Jonah wheeled right about
and, apparently imparting information of a startling character
concerning the east front of Brasenose to his sister and cousin, began
to hustle them towards the entrance. To Berry's repeated nominal
exhortations we paid not the slightest attention. Coal or no coal, the
combination of Mr. Lewis and my brother-in-law--the latter in a mood
which the assumption of so ridiculous a garb made it impossible to
mistake--was too awful to contemplate. There are things which are worse
than a cold bath.
I did not stop until we were safely on the leads of the Camera.
Considerably out of breath, we leaned cautiously upon the balustrade, if
possible from our eminence to observe the manoeuvres of our terror. Look
where we would, there was no one to be seen.
"The brute must have followed the others into B.N.C.," I panted. "I'd
love to see them come out."
"I think he's a scream," said Agatha. "If he could only see himself in
that hat...."
She dissolved into peals of laughter.
"I agree. But I'd rather watch from the stalls than assist him in one of
his turns."
"Stalls? This is more like the gallery."
"True. But remember. 'Who sups with the devil should hold a long spoon.'
All the same, if you can bear another proverb, 'It's an ill wind,' etc.
If I hadn't been hard up for a refuge, I should never have thought of
bringing you up here, and for any one to get an idea of Oxford it's as
good a place as I know."
Miss Deriot gazed at the magnificent prospect before replying.
"It ought to make me feel very small," she said suddenly, "but somehow
it doesn't. It's so terribly old and all that, but it's got such a kind
look."
"That," said I, "is the quality of Oxford. And I congratulate you. You
are articulate where wise men have stood dumb. Perhaps it's because
you're so much alike."
"Who."
"You and Oxford."
"Am I so terribly old?"
I shook my head.
"But you're beautifully built, and you've got a kind look and handsome
ways, and your temples are a dream, and all our swains commend you,
and----"
"Stop, stop. You're getting mixed."
"Not at all. My intellect was never less clouded. In spite of two
glasses of ginger beer, my hand is like a spade--I mean a rock. Insert a
fly in your eye, and I will remove it unhesitatingly."
"I'll take your word for it," said Agatha.
"One of these days I shall compare you to a burst of melody. At the
present moment I am between your dimple and the deep sea."
"The dimple you are," said Agatha, with a smile that promised laughter
with difficulty suppressed.
Amusedly I regarded her.
She was very tastefully dressed. A blue silk coat and a white laced
blouse beneath it, a pale grey skirt of som
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