HOW ADÈLE FESTE ARRIVED, AND MR. DUNKLESBAUM SUPPED WITH THE DEVIL.
"There she is!" cried Jill.
"Where?" said I, screwing up my eyes and peering eagerly at the crowded
taffrails.
"There, Boy, there. Look, she's seen us. She's waving."
Hardly I followed the direction of my cousin's pink index finger, which
was stretched quivering towards the promenade deck.
"Is that her in blue?"
But a smiling Jill was already nodding and waving unmistakably to the
tall slim figure, advances which the latter was as surely returning with
a cheerly wave of her slight blue arm. Somewhat sheepishly I took off my
hat.
Adèle Feste had arrived.
More than fifteen months had elapsed since we had reluctantly seen her
into the boat-train at Euston and wished her a safe journey to her
American home. At the time, with an uneasiness bred of experience, I had
wondered whether our friendship was to survive the battery of time and
distance, or whether it was destined to slip into a decline and so,
presently, out of our lives, fainting and painless. Touch, however, had
been maintained by a fitful correspondence, and constant references to
Miss Feste's promised visit to White Ladies--a consummation which we one
and all desired--were made for what they were worth. Finally my sister
sat down and issued a desperate summons. "My dear, don't keep us waiting
any longer. Arrive in August and stay for six months. If you don't, we
shall begin to believe what we already suspect--that we live too far
away." The thrust went home. Within a month the invitation had been
accepted, with the direct result that here were Jill and I, at six
o'clock of a pleasant August evening, standing upon a quay at
Southampton, while the Rolls waited patiently, with Fitch at her wheel,
a stone's throw away, ready to rush our guest and ourselves over the odd
fifteen miles that lay between the port and White Ladies.
With us in the car we could take the inevitable cabin trunk and
dressing-case. Adèle's heavy baggage was to be consigned to the care of
Fitch, who would bring it by rail the same evening to Mockery Dale, the
little wayside station which served five villages and our own among
them.
Nobody from the quay was allowed to board the liner, and none of the
passengers were allowed to disembark, until the baggage had been
off-loaded. For the best part, therefore, of an hour and a half Jill and
I hovered under the shadow of the tall ship, walking self-consciously up
and down, or standing looking up at the promenade deck with, so far as I
was concerned, an impotently fatuous air and, occasionally, the
meretricious leer usually reserved for the photographer's studio.
At last--
"If they don't let them off soon," I announced, "I shall break down. The
strain of being cordial with somebody who's in sight, but out of
earshot, is becoming unbearable. Let's go and have a breather behind the
hutment." And I indicated an erection which looked like a ticket-office
that had been thrown together during the Crimean War.
But Jill was inexorable.
"It can't be long now," she argued, "and if we go away----There!" She
seized my arm with a triumphant clutch. "Look! They're beginning to get
off."
It was true. One by one the vanguard of passengers was already
straggling laden on to the high gangway. I strained my eyes for a
glimpse of the slight blue figure, which had left the taffrail and was
presumably imprisoned in the press which could be observed welling out
of a doorway upon the main deck....
A sudden and violent stress upon my left hand at once reminded me of
Nobby's existence, and suggested that of a cat. Mechanically I held fast
to the lead, at the opposite end of which the Sealyham was choking and
labouring in a frenzied endeavour to molest a sleek tabby, which, from
the assurance of its gait, appeared to be a _persona grata_ upon the
quay. The attempted felony attracted considerable attention, which
should have been otherwise directed, with the result that a clergyman
and two ladies were within an ace of being overrun by an enormous
truckload of swaying baggage and coarsely reviled by a sweating Hercules
for their pains. As it was, the sudden diversion of the trolley
projected several pieces of luggage on to the quay, occasioning an
embryo stampede of the bystanders and drawing down a stern rebuke,
delivered in no measured terms, from a blue-coated official, who had not
seen what had happened, upon the heads of innocent and guilty alike. The
real offender met my accusing frown with the disarming smile of childish
innocence, and, when I shook my head, wagged his tail unctuously. As I
picked him up and put him under my arm--
"So this is Nobby," said Adèle.
I uncovered and nodded.
"And he had a bath this morning, so as to be all nice and clean when
Miss Feste arrived. I did, too."
"How reckless!" said Adèle. "You look very well on it."
"Thank you," said I, shaking hands. "And you look glorious. Hullo!
You've let your hair grow. I am glad."
"Think it's an improvement?"
"If possible."
The well-marked eyebrows went up, the bright brown eyes regarded me
quizzically, the faint familiar smile hung maddeningly on the red lips.
"Polite as ever," she flashed.
"Put it down to the bath," said I. "Cleanliness is next
to--er--devotion."
"Yes, and he's been counting the days," broke in Jill. "He has really.
Of course, we all have. But----Oh, Adèle, I'm so glad you've come."
Adèle drew my cousin's arm within her own.
"So'm I," she said quietly. "And now--I did have a dressing-case once.
And a steamer-trunk.... D'you think it's any good looking for them?"
Twenty minutes later we were all three--four with Nobby--on the front
seat of the Rolls, which was nosing its way gingerly out of the town.
"I wonder if you realize," said Adèle, "what a beautiful country you
live in."
At the moment we were immediately between an unpleasantly crowded tram
and a fourth-rate beerhouse.
"Don't you have trams?" said I. "Or does alcohol mean so much to you? I
suppose prohibition is a bit of a jar."
"To tell you the truth, I was thinking of the Isle of Wight. It looked
so exquisite as we were coming in. Just like a toy continent out of a
giant's nursery."
"Before the day is out," I prophesied, "you shall see finer things than
that."
Once clear of the streets, I gave the car her head.
For a while we slid past low-lying ground, verdant and fresh and
blowing, but flat and sparsely timbered, with coppices here and there
and, sometimes, elms in the hedgerows, and, now and again, a parcel of
youngster oaks about a green--fair country enough at any time, and at
this summer sundown homely and radiant. But there was better to come.
The car fled on.
Soon the ground rose sharply by leaps and bounds, the yellow road
swerving to right and left, deep tilted meadows on one side with a
screen of birches beyond, and on the other a sloping rabble of timber,
whose foliage made up a tattered motley, humble and odd and bastard,
yet, with it all, so rich in tender tones and unexpected feats of
drapery that Adèle cried that it was a slice of fairyland and sat with
her chin on her shoulder, till the road curled up into the depths of a
broad pine-wood, through which it cut, thin, and dead straight, and
cool, and strangely solemn. In a flash it had become the nave of a
cathedral, immense, solitary. Sombre and straight and tall, the walls
rose up to where the swaying roof sobered the mellow sunshine and only
let it pass dim and so, sacred. The wanton breeze, caught in the maze of
tufted pinnacles, filtered its chastened way, a pensive organist,
learned to draw grave litanies from the boughs and reverently voice the
air of sanctity. The fresh familiar scent hung for a smokeless incense,
breathing high ritual and redolent of pious mystery. No circumstance of
worship was unobserved. With one consent birds, beasts and insects made
not a sound. The precious pall of silence lay like a phantom cloud,
unruffled. Nature was on her knees.
The car fled on.
Out of the priestless sanctuary, up over the crest of the rise, into the
kiss of the sunlight we sailed, and so on to a blue-brown moor, all
splashed and dappled with the brilliant yellow of the gorse in bloom and
rolling away into the hazy distance like an untroubled sea. So for a
mile it flowed, a lazy pomp of purple, gold-flecked and glowing. Then
came soft cliffs of swelling woodland, rising to stay its course with
gentle dignity--walls that uplifted eyes found but the dwindled edge of
a far mightier flood that stretched and tossed, a leafy waste of
billows, flaunting more living shades of green than painters dream of,
laced here and there with gold and, once in a long while, shot with
crimson, rising and falling with Atlantic grandeur, till the eye
faltered, and the proud rich waves seemed to be breaking on the rosy
sky.
And over all the sun lay dying, his crimson ebb of life staining the
firmament with splendour, his mighty heart turning the dance of Death to
a triumphant progress, where Blood and Flame rode by with clouds for
chargers, and Earth and Sky themselves shouldered the litter of their
passing King.
An exclamation of wonder broke from Adèle, and Jill cried to me to stop.
"Just for a minute, Boy, so that she can see it properly."
Obediently I slowed to a standstill. Then I backed the great car and
swung up a side track for the length of a cricket-pitch. The few cubits
thus added to our stature extended the prospect appreciably. Besides, it
was now unnecessary to crane the neck.
At last--
"If you're waiting for me to say 'Go,'" said Adèle, "I shouldn't. I'm
quite ready to sit here till nightfall. It's up to you to tear me away."
I looked at Jill.
"Better be getting on," I said. "The others'll be wondering where we
are."
She nodded.
We did not stop again till the car came to rest easily before the great
oak door, which those who built White Ladies hung upon its tremendous
hinges somewhere in the 'forties of the sixteenth century.
* * * * *
"It is my duty," said Berry, "to inform you that on Wednesday I shall
not be available."
"Why?" said my wife.
"Because upon that day I propose to dispense justice in my capacity of a
Justice of the Peace. I shall discriminate between neither rich nor
poor. Beggars and billionaires shall get it equally in the neck.
Innocent and guilty alike----"
"That'll do," said Daphne. "What about Thursday?"
"Thursday's clear. One moment, though. I had an idea there was something
on that day." For a second he drummed on the table, clearly cudgelling
his brains. Suddenly, "I knew it," he cried. "That's the day of the
sale. You know. Merry Down. I don't know what's the matter with my
memory. I've got some rotten news."
"What?"
Daphne, Jill, Jonah and I fired the question simultaneously.
"A terrible fellow's after it. One Dunkelsbaum. Origin doubtful--very.
Last known address, Argentina. Naturalized in July, 1914. Strictly
neutral during the War, but managed to net over a million out of cotton,
which he sold to the Central Powers _at a lower price than Great Britain
offered_ before we tightened the blockade. Never interned, of course.
Well, he tried to buy Merry Down by private treaty, but Sir Anthony
wouldn't sell to him. They say the sweep's crazy about the place and
that he means to have it at any price. Jolly, isn't it?"
There was a painful silence.
Merry Down was the nearest estate to White Ladies, and was almost as
precious to us as our own home. For over two centuries a Bagot had
reigned uninterruptedly over the rose-red mansion and the spreading
park, the brown water and the waving woods--a kingdom of which we had
been free since childhood. Never an aged tree blew down but we were told
of it, and now--the greatest of them all was falling, the house of Bagot
itself.
One of the old school, Sir Anthony had stood his ground up to the last.
The War had cost him dear. His only son was killed in the first months.
His only grandson fell in the battles of the Somme. His substance, never
fat, had shrunk to a mere shadow of its former self. The stout old heart
fought the unequal fight month after month. Stables were emptied, rooms
were shut up, thing after thing was sold. It remained for a defaulting
solicitor to administer the _coup de grâce_....
On the twelfth day of August, precisely at half-past two, Merry Down was
to be sold by auction at _The Fountain Inn_, Brooch.
Berry's news took our breath away.
"D'you mean to say that this is what I fought for?" said I. "For this
brute's peaceful possession of Merry Down?"
"Apparently," said my brother-in-law. "More. It's what Derry Bagot and
his boy died for, if you happen to be looking at it that way."
"It'll break Sir Anthony's heart," said Daphne.
"But I don't understand," said Adèle. "How--why is it allowed?"
"I must have notice," said Berry, "of that question."
"Have you ever heard," said Jonah, "of the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Alien Enemies?"
Adèle shook her head.
"I think you must have," said Jonah. "Some people call it the British
Nation. It's been going for years."
"That's right," said I. "And its motto is 'Charity begins at Home.'
There's really nothing more to be said."
"I could cry," announced Jill, in a voice that fully confirmed her
statement. "It's just piteous. What would poor Derry say? Can't anything
be done?"
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"If half what I've heard is true, Merry Down is as good as gone. The
fellow means to have it, and he's rich enough to buy the county itself.
Short of assassination, I don't see what anybody can do. Of course, if
you like, you can reproduce him in wax and then stick pins into the
image. But that's very old-fashioned, and renders you liable to
cremation without the option of a fine. Besides, as a magistrate, I feel
it my bounden duty to----"
"I thought witchcraft and witches were out of date," said Adèle.
"Not at all," said Berry. "Only last week we bound one over for
discussing the housing question with a wart-hog. The animal, which, till
then, had been laying steadily, became unsettled and suspicious and
finally attacked an inoffensive Stilton with every circumstance of
barbarity."
"How awful!" said Adèle. "You do see life as a magistrate, don't you?
And I suppose somebody kissed the wart-hog, and it turned into a French
count? You know, it's a shame about you."
Berry looked round.
"Mocked," he said. "And at my own table. With her small mouth crammed
with food, for which I shall be called upon to pay, she actually----"
"O-o-oh!" cried Adèle. "It wasn't. Besides, you shouldn't have asked
me."
"I can only say," said Berry, "that I am surprised and pained. From the
bosom of my family I, as the head, naturally expect nothing but the
foulest scurrility and derision. But when a comparative stranger, whom,
with characteristic generosity, I have made free of my heart, seizes a
moment which should have been devoted to the mastication of one of my
peaches to vilify her host, then indeed I feel almost unsexed--I mean
unmanned. Are my veins standing out like cords?"
"Only on your nose," said I. "All gnarled, that is."
"There you are," said Berry. "The slow belly reviles the sage. The----"
Scandalized cries from Daphne and Jill interrupted him.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said his wife, pushing back her
chair. "And now let's all have coffee on the terrace. That is, unless
you three want to stay."
Jonah, Berry and I shook our heads, and she took Adèle's arm and led the
way out of the room....
It was a wonderful night.
While Nature slept, Magic, sceptred with a wand, sat on her throne.
The sky was rich black velvet, pricked at a million points, from every
one of which issued a cold white brilliance, just luminous enough to
show its whereness, sharp and clear-cut. No slightest breath of wind
ruffled the shadows of the sleeping trees. With one intent, Night and
the countryside had filled the cup of silence so that it brimmed--a feat
that neither cellarer can do alone. The faint sweet scent of honeysuckle
stole on its errant way, 'such stuff as dreams are made on,' so that the
silken fabric of the air took on a tint of daintiness so rare, fleeting,
and exquisite as made your fancy riot, conjuring mirages of smooth
enchantment, gardens that hung luxuriant beneath a languorous moon, the
plash of water and the soft sob of flutes....
For a long moment all the world was fairy. Then, with a wild scrabble of
claws upon stone, a small white shape shot from beneath my chair, took
the broad steps at a bound and vanished into the darkness. The welter of
barks and growls and grunts of expended energy, rising a moment later
from the midst of the great lawn, suggested that a cat had retired to
the convenient shelter of the mulberry tree.
The sudden eruption startled us all, and Berry dwelt with some asperity
upon the danger of distracting the digestive organs while at work.
Menacingly I demanded the terrier's immediate return. Upon the third
time of asking the uproar ceased, and a few seconds later Nobby came
padding out of the gloom with the cheerful demeanour of the labourer who
has done well and shown himself worthy of his hire. Wise in his
generation, he had learned that it is a hard heart which the
pleasurable, if mistaken, glow of faithful service will not disarm.
Sternly I set the miscreant upon my knee. For a moment we eyed one
another with mutual mistrust and understanding. Then he thrust up a wet
nose and licked my face....
For a minute or two there was no noise save the occasional chink of a
coffee-cup against its saucer. Then--
"Since you ask me," said Berry, "my horoscope is of peculiar interest."
"What's a horoscope?" said Jill.
"A cross between a birth certificate and a conduct sheet," said I,
nodding at Berry. "His is a wonder. You can get a copy of it for three
and sixpence at Scotland Yard."
"I was born," said my brother-in-law, "when Uranus was in conjunction,
Saturn in opposition, and the Conservatives in power. Venus was all
gibbous, the Zodiac was in its zenith, and the zenith was in Charles's
Wain, commonly called The Cart. My sign was Oleaqua--The Man with the
Watering Pot. When I add that a thunderstorm was raging, and that my
father had bet five pounds I should be a girl, and had decided to call
me 'Hosannah,' you will appreciate that it is no ordinary being who is
addressing you. A singularly beautiful infant, it was at once obvious
that I was born to rule. Several people said it was inevitable, among
them an organ-grinder, who was ordered out of the grounds, to which
during the excitement he had gained access. He didn't put it that way,
but he explained at the police court that that was what he had meant."
"To whose good offices," said Jonah, "do you ascribe your pretty ways?"
"Uranus," was the airy reply. "From that deity came also meekness, an
unshakable belief in human nature, and the fidgets."
"You ought to have been called after him," said Adèle.
"My godfathers thought otherwise. In a fit of generosity they gave me my
name and a pint pot, which the more credulous declared to be silver, but
whose hallmark persistently defied detection. Then the fount dried up.
And now let me read your hand. Or would you rather I taught you the
three-card trick?"
"It's too dark," I protested. "Besides, she's going to sing."
"Who said so?" said Adèle. "I was going to suggest that you told us a
fairy tale."
"A song for a tale," said I.
"Done."
"There was once a princess," said I, "with eyes like brown stars and a
voice like the song of a silver brook. One day she was sitting all alone
by the side of a shady trout-stream, when she heard a bell. For a moment
she thought she was dreaming, for she was rather tired. Then she heard
it again--a clear tinkle, which seemed to arise from the heart of the
stream itself. This surprised the princess very much, because no bells
were allowed in her father's kingdom. The old man was a bit of an
autocrat, and one morning, when he had been rung up seven times running
by subjects who wanted quite a different number, he just passed a law
prohibiting bells, and that was that. Well, while she was wondering what
to do the bell rang again rather angrily, and, before she knew where she
was, she had said 'Come in.'
"'At last,' said a voice, and a large frog heaved himself out of the
water and sat down on a tuft of grass on the opposite bank. 'I shan't
knock next time.'
"'I didn't hear you knock,' said the princess.
"'I didn't,' said the frog. 'I rang. How's your father?'
"'Full of beans,' said the princess. 'And yours?'
"'That's my business,' said the frog. 'Are you married yet?'
"'No such luck,' said the princess. 'And, what's more, I never shall
be.'
"'Why?' said the frog. 'Half the kingdom goes with you, doesn't it?'
"'Exactly,' said the princess. 'And there's the rub.'
"'Where?' said the frog, looking round.
"'Well, I'm all right,' said the princess, 'but who wants half a
one-horse kingdom that's mortgaged up to the hilt and a bit over?'
"At this the frog looked so wise that the princess felt quite
uncomfortable, and began to think he must be a waiter at the Athenæum
who had had a misunderstanding with a witch. Suddenly--
"'Which of your suitors do you like best?' said the frog.
"'Albert the Watchguard,' said the princess. 'He's a bit of a fool, but
you ought to see him dance.'
"'No, I oughtn't,' said the frog. 'It would be extremely bad for me.
Listen. Tell Albert to come down here with a sieve to-morrow morning. He
may be a bit of a fool, but, if he doesn't apply for you before lunch,
he's a congenital idiot.' And with that he took a short run and dived
into the stream.
"The princess did as she was bid, and at eleven o'clock the next morning
Albert the Watchguard appeared, complete with sieve, upon the bank of
the trout-stream. Twenty-five minutes later, with a cigarette behind his
ear and _a nugget of gold in each boot_, he made formal application for
the hand of the princess and half the kingdom--a request which was
immediately granted.
"Two days later they were married.
"What Albert the Watchguard said, on learning that his half of the
kingdom did not include the territory watered by the trout-stream, is
not recorded.
"If you remember, he was a bit of a fool."
"Good for you, old chap," said Daphne.
Jill's hand stole out of the darkness and crept into mine.
Berry turned to Adèle.
"A blinking wonder," he said, "is not he? Fancy turning out a comic
cameo like that on demand. But then for years he's been on the staff of
_Chunks_. He does the _Gossipy Gobbets_ column."
Adèle laughed musically.
"It was very nice of him to do as I asked," she said. "And as a
bargain's a bargain...."
She rose and turned to the open windows....
I saw her settled at the piano, and then stole back.
A moment later the strains of her beautiful mezzo-soprano floated out
into the darkness.
It is doubtful whether _Printemps Qui Commence_ ever enjoyed a more
exquisite setting.
It was a wonderful night.
* * * * *
If we had driven straight to Brooch the incident would not have
occurred.
We had lunched early, for Berry and I were determined to attend the sale
of Merry Down. Sir Anthony, who was sure to be there, would need
comforting, and we had, moreover, a feeling that we should like to see
the last of an old friend. Once the place had passed into the power of
the dog, we should try to forget. It was Adèle's suggestion that she
should accompany us. "I'd like to see Brooch," she had said, "and I want
to get a new piece of silk for my wristwatch. Besides, I can sit in the
car while you and Berry are at the sale. That'll save your taking the
chauffeur." We agreed readily enough.
Because Adèle was with us we started in good time, so that we could go
by way of Hickory Hammer and Three Horse Hill. That way would bring us
on to the London road at a point five miles from Brooch, and, while the
view from the hill was as fine as any in the neighbourhood, Hickory
Hammer was not only extremely ancient, but generally accounted one of
the most picturesque villages in the whole of England.
I was driving, with Nobby beside me, while Adèle and Berry sat on the
back seat. Our thoughts were not unnaturally dwelling upon the sale, and
now and again I caught fragments of conversation which suggested that my
brother-in-law was commenting upon the power of money and the
physiognomy of Mr. Dunkelsbaum--whose photograph had appeared in the
paper that very morning, to grace an interview--with marked acerbity.
Once in a while a ripple of laughter from Adèle came to my ears, but for
the most part it was a grave discourse, for Berry felt very bitter, and
Adèle, whose father's father was the son of an English squire, had taken
to heart the imminent disseizure with a rare sympathy.
It was five minutes to two when we slid out of Lullaby Coppice and on to
the London road. A furlong ahead the road swung awkwardly to the left--a
bend which the unexpected _débouchement_ of a by-road rendered a
veritable pitfall for the unwary motorist. I slowed for the turn
cautiously, for I knew the place, but I was not surprised when, on
rounding the corner, we found ourselves confronted with a state of
affairs presenting all the elements of a first-class smash.
What had happened was transparently clear.
Huddled between a trolley and the nearside bank, which was rising sheer
from the road, was a large red limousine, listing heavily to port and
down by the head. Both vehicles were facing towards Brooch. Plainly the
car had sought to overtake the trolley, which was in the act of emerging
from the by-road, and pass it upon the wrong side. The former, of
course, had been travelling too fast to stop, and the burden which the
latter was bearing had made it impossible for the other to pass upon the
right-hand side. Three sturdy oaks, new felled, one of them full fifty
swaying feet in length, all of them girt by chains on to the trolley's
back, made a redoubtable obstruction. The chauffeur had taken the only
possible course and dashed for the narrowing passage on the left. A
second too late, the car had been pinched between the great wain and the
unyielding bank, like a nut between the jaws of the crackers. But for
the action of the carter, who had stopped his team dead, the car would
have been crushed to flinders.
The two occupants of the limousine were apparently unhurt, for, when I
first saw them, they were standing in the middle of the road, looking
anxiously in our direction. The next moment they were signalling to us
violently, spreading out ridiculous arms, as if the tree-trunks were not
putting our passage of the road for the present out of the question.
As I brought the Rolls to a standstill, I heard a stifled cry. The next
moment Berry's voice hissed in my ear.
"Talk of the devil.... Look at the cove on the right. _It's Dunkelsbaum
himself._"
A lightning glance showed me the truth of his words. The original of the
photograph over which we had pored that morning was standing before us
in all the grossness of flesh.
Almost before I had recovered from the shock, the other--a long sallow
creature with a false grin and a cringing air--was at my elbow.
"You mutht eckthcuthe me," he lisped, uncovering, "but could you
pothibly give uth a lift ath far ath Brooch? Thith gentleman"--he
indicated Mr. Dunkelsbaum--"hath a motht important engagement there at
half-patht two, and, ath you thee, we have been unfortunate. Tho, if you
could thee your way to accommodating uth, we thould be greatly obliged."
Before I could reply--
"We can get there by half-past two," said Berry, speaking slowly and
distinctly, "if--_if we go through Ramilly._"
Now, Ramilly was a great enclosure, and could be entered from the
by-road down which the trolley had come. _But it was not on the way to
Brooch._
With the greatest difficulty I repressed a start. Then I leaned forward
as if to examine the dash, but in reality to conceal my excitement....
_Apparently guileless, my brother-in-law's protasis was nothing less
than a deliberate direction to me to postpone Mr. Dunkelsbaum's arrival
at Brooch until Merry Down was no longer in the market._
My heart began to beat violently....
Berry was speaking again.
"Wait half a minute, and we'll change over." He turned to Adèle. "Will
you sit in front with Boy?"
As the change was being made, Mr. Dunkelsbaum advanced.
I have seldom set eyes upon a less prepossessing man. To liken him to a
vicious over-fed pug is more than charitable. Smug, purse-proud and
evil, his bloated countenance was most suggestive. There was no pity
about the coarse mouth, which he had twisted into a smile, two deep
sneer lines cut into the unwholesome pallor of his cheeks, from under
drooping lids two beady eyes shifted their keen appraising glance from
me to Berry and, for a short second, to Adèle. There was about him not a
single redeeming feature, and for the brute's pompous carriage alone I
could have kicked him heartily.
The clothes were like unto the man.
From beneath a silk-faced overcoat, which he wore unbuttoned, the rich
contour of a white waistcoat thrust its outrageous way, spurning the
decent shelter of a black tail-coat and making the thick striped legs
look shorter than ever. A diamond pin winked in the satin tie, and a
black bowler hat and patent-leather boots mercifully covered, the one
his crown, and the others his short fat feet.
My gentleman raised his hat and removed a cigar from his mouth before
speaking in a thick voice and with a strong foreign accent.
"My segretary 'as tol' you of my agsident, yes. I voz much oblige' vor a
lif' to Brrrrooch. These gattle"--contemptuously he pointed to the
waggoner and his great beasts, to whose common sagacity he owed his
life--"should not allowed be on der roats, no. Ach, so. It voz all
wrong."
"Quite so," said Berry. "I think they're worse than pedestrians. If I
had my way, nothing but high-powered cars would be allowed on any high
road. If people can't afford cars, let them keep to the lanes."
"So 'ave I say often. What vor are der baths an' lanes else? Bah!"
By now Adèle had taken her seat in front, and my brother-in-law, who had
descended, was ushering Mr. Dunkelsbaum into the place she had left.
With a grunt the fellow made to hoist himself in, when Nobby took a
flying leap from the front seat and planted himself in the intruder's
path, barking furiously.
Immediately withdrawing the foot which he had set upon the carpet, Mr.
Dunkelsbaum descended anyhow on to his secretary, who was not expecting
him and so too late to recede. The scream of agony which the unfortunate
creature emitted, no less than the convulsive way in which he clung to
the wing, while standing upon one leg and protesting with a horrible
leer that he was unhurt, gave the lie to his words.
His employer spoke at once and to the point.
"Den, if you 'ave no 'urt, what vor 'ave you yell in mine ear-'ole?
Bah!" He turned to me. "You vill blease gondrol der 'ound."
Mastering a desire to do the man violence, I leaned out and over the
back of my seat and, taking Nobby by the scruff of his neck, hauled him
struggling and growling across the barrier. Adèle received him tenderly
and endeavoured to soothe him. But the Sealyham was mourning a lost
opportunity and would not be comforted.
Bluntly commanding his creature to stay with the car and arrange for its
salvage, Mr. Dunkelsbaum once more heaved himself into the Rolls and
sank upon the back seat. Berry followed, and a moment later I had let in
the clutch and turned up the by-road.
By the time we had reached the entrance to the enclosure it was ten
minutes past two, and, as Berry got out to open and hold the gate, I saw
our passenger bring out a handsome timepiece and, after a glance at the
dial, replace it in some uneasiness.
"Your dime voz der same as London?" he inquired.
"Five minutes ahead," I replied maliciously.
"Ach!"
"We shall do it all right," I said airily, "Your appointment's at three,
isn't it?"
Mr. Dunkelsbaum went a rich green colour, half rose from his seat, and
clawed at the air before replying.
"Three?" he raved. "Three? No, no! Alf-pas' doo, man, 'alf-pas' doo! 'Oo
'as say it voz three? In a quarder of an hour ve mus' be dere. It is
fital, yes."
Adèle began to shake with laughter.
"Right oh," I said casually. "I dare say we can manage it." The gate was
open, and I let in the clutch with a bang. With a startled grunt, Mr.
Dunkelsbaum was projected violently on to the seat he had left. As I
slowed up for Berry to rejoin us, "But I may have to go rather fast," I
added.
"Like der devil," was the reply.
The going was good, and the road was unfrequented, so I let the car out.
We tore down an avenue of firs, great rugged banks of rhododendrons
sprawling on either side, scudded into a beechwood--pillars all
silver-grey, set in a ruffled mass of whispering green, swam through a
sea of bracken, rippling and feathery. And all the time I was racking my
brain....
To the best of my recollection, we had another three miles to cover
before we should emerge from Ramilly on to the King's highway. But at
the very point at which we should leave the enclosure there were
crossroads and, I was sure, a finger-post announcing the way to Brooch
in a plain manner which there was no mistaking.
In the face of this direction, which our passenger would be certain to
see, it would be impossible to take another road, and, though we should
undoubtedly reach _The Fountain_ after the appointed hour, it was quite
possible that the proceedings might not be punctually conducted, and
that the essential business of the sale would not have been completed
before our arrival.
Of course, there was nothing to prevent us from throwing off the mask,
stopping the car, and politely intimating our inability to carry Mr.
Dunkelsbaum any further. But his reception of such an open declaration
of war was certain to be unsuitable for Adèle's eyes and ears, and the
subsequent action which a man of his calibre would undoubtedly take
might prove troublesome, if profitless.
Again, our eventual arrival at Brooch, however belated, would be better
avoided. Berry and I were well known in the town, as was also our close
friendship with Sir Anthony. Our identification, therefore, would be
only a matter of time, and since, in the absence of a burst or a
puncture, our progress to Brooch could only be delayed by pretended
engine trouble, the suspicions which this would be sure to arouse in our
passenger's mind would very soon be confirmed.
Sooner or later the fellow would gather that he had been befooled, but,
provided that we preserved our incognitos, that did not matter. If we
could possibly leave him uncertain whether we were as cunning as
serpents or as simple as doves, so much the better.
In no sort of order all these reflections elbowed and jostled one
another before my mind's eye, which was itself searching feverishly for
a solution. Then we floated round a long curve, and I saw the splash.
We were at the top of a short steep hill in the midst of a dense wood of
tender years. At the foot of the hill our road was overrun by a
fair-sized stream, so that while there was a little foot-bridge,
vehicles that were wishing to pass this way must do so by way of the
ford. Beyond the water the ground rose sharply again, making the whole
place a bottom or hollow, such as was commonly encountered in this part
of England.
I slowed up, and we slid down the hill at a reduced speed.
With the utmost caution I put the Rolls at the splash, making no attempt
to disguise my uneasiness. Mr. Dunkelsbaum would naturally conclude that
I was anxious lest the water was deep. As a matter of fact, I was
fearful lest the ford should prove shallow.
But luck was with us.
Very gently the great car entered the brown water, which was flowing
slowly and steadily over its gravel bed. With my heart in my mouth, I
watched the water rise.... It was half-way to the running-board. It was
level--above.... It was lapping the spare wheel, and--we were in the
deepest part. Quick as a flash I changed into top and let in the clutch
with a bang. Instantly the engine stopped, and the car came to rest in
mid-stream.
I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face.
There was an electric silence. Then--
"What's the matter?" said Berry.
"Flooded out," I said shortly, hoping that Mr. Dunkelsbaum was not an
engineer.
As I spoke, I heard a choking sound at my shoulder. I turned sharply,
and there was my gentleman in a terrible toss. His eyes were protruding,
and he could hardly speak.
"To Brrrooch!" he screamed. "To Brrrooch! Ve mus' go on. I 'ave say it
is fital. Sdard der gar, man, sdard der gar! What vor do you vaid?"
"I'll try," I said coolly. "But you'll have to get out. Our only chance
is to make her as light as possible."
With a saintly look Berry opened the off-side door and sprang nimbly on
to the foot-bridge. Then he turned to the other.
"Come along, sir."
Mr. Dunkelsbaum stared at the water as if it had been boiling oil. As he
estimated the distance he was to cover, a bead of perspiration began to
course down his face. It was the first of many....
Berry extended his hand.
"Come along, sir."
The fellow threw one despairing glance about him, hung out of the car
till he could reach Berry's hand, and then, with a frightful grunt,
goose-stepped into space....
The sight of Mr. Dunkelsbaum, still hand-in-hand with Berry,
endeavouring by the latter's direction to step out of twelve inches of
water on to the foot-bridge--a feat which only a contortionist could
have accomplished--was diverting in the extreme. But when the
unfortunate creature did by some superhuman effort get the elongated toe
of his right elastic-sided boot upon the plank, and Berry found himself
unable to do more than haul him half-way to safety, so that for one long
hectic moment he hung writhing convulsively, frantically waving his left
leg in quest of a footing and alternately calling upon Heaven and
frenziedly charging his betrayer not to let go; when, as a result of
muscular vibration, his left boot worked loose and fell into the water
with a derisive plop; when Nobby, who had been watching the efforts of
the storming party in a fever of excitement, leapt from Adèle's arms on
to my shoulders and thence into the flood, and, beating its raving owner
by a matter of inches in a rush for the errant footgear, splashed his
triumphant way to the bank and, amid a hurricane of execration, bore his
waterlogged trophy into the undergrowth; then I bowed my head upon the
steering-wheel and, throwing decency to the winds, ran before the
tempest of Titanic laughter....
A wail of merriment from Adèle and a pressure upon my left arm brought
me to my senses.
Watch in hand, Mr. Dunkelsbaum was dancing upon a strip of turf by the
edge of the stream, bellowing at me to start the car.
"I do nod gare vor my bood, no. But der abboinmen'.... It vill nod vaid,
I say. An' it is now vive minute to begin. Ach! What vor 'ave you sid
dere an' laugh? My 'eart pleeds vor you. Ten tousand devil! But _vill
you sdard ub der auto?_"
The yell with which he delivered the last sentence changed to a howl as
his bootless foot alighted heavily upon an odd pebble, and Nobby peered
out of some long grass, boot in mouth, to see whether the situation was
affording further opportunities. Apparently it was not, for he lay down
where he was and proceeded with the dismemberment of his spoil.
Adèle turned her head away and held her handkerchief to her eyes.
I set my foot upon the self-starter....
The moment the engine started, Nobby abandoned his treasure and leapt
barking to the side of the car, fearful, as usual, lest he be left
behind. Muttering hideously, Mr. Dunkelsbaum seized the opportunity of
retrieving his boot, whose present condition was apparently even worse
than he had expected, for a hurried examination of the same elicited an
involuntary cry of torment, and he shook his fist at the terrier in a
fit of ungovernable fury.
Slowly I brought the Rolls out of the splash, and when, as I judged,
about six feet lay between the back wheels and the stream, again I
stopped the engine....
For a moment I thought Mr. Dunkelsbaum would offer me violence. His
mouth worked uncontrollably, and there was a suspicion of foam upon the
thick lips. A sudden violent tug at the boot, which was still in his
right hand awaiting replacement, mercifully diverted his attention, but
the savagery with which he launched a kick at Nobby, who was once more
in possession and already out of range, was terrible to witness.
"'Ell-'ound!" he screamed. "'Ell-'ound! You vould dare! I vill throw you
oud of der vindow with one 'and. I vill gig der eyes from your 'ead." In
the midst of the paroxysm he turned to me, wild-eyed and gesticulating.
"What vor 'ave you stay still? You mus' sdard again an' again, yes. To
Brrrooch! To Brrrooch!" He snatched his watch from his pocket and dabbed
at its face with a shaking forefinger. "Der glogs vill berhaps be wrong.
I vill give you dwendy bounds if ve shall 'ave arrive in dime!"
The rearguard of my compunction, which had been putting up a fight,
vanished into thin air. The sweep had offered me money. I was prepared
to twist his tall indefinitely.
"If you pushed behind," I said coldly, "we might get her going. If we
do, you must get in while she's moving. I daren't stop, or we may have
to begin all over again."
Mr. Dunkelsbaum eyed me suspiciously, and Berry, who had been hitherto
afraid to trust his voice, took up the running with a dash.
"That's the ticket. Come on, Herr Stunkenblotch. Never mind your boot.
Think of the purchase you'll get with a bare foot." He stepped behind
the car. "Now, you do as I do, and, when I say 'Go,' drop your bullet
head and try to shove the old 'bus into the middle of next fortnight."
With a snarl, Mr. Dunkelsbaum slunk limping to the back of the car....
A moment later--
"Go!" said my brother-in-law.
Maliciously I waited the best part of thirty seconds. Then--
"Are you ready?" I inquired, innocently enough.
The explosion which my question provoked was truly terrible.
The panting alien and Berry immediately reappeared, one upon either side
of the car, the latter protesting with an injured air that he was not so
young as he was, and that, if I wanted him to survive the summer, I had
better keep my ears open, while, to judge from his behaviour, the
reflection that his recent output of vigour had been rendered nugatory
by my unreadiness was hurrying Mr. Dunkelsbaum into the valley of
insanity. Purple in the face from the unwonted violence of his physical
and mental exercise, streaming with perspiration and shaking with
passion, the fellow stormed and raved like a demoniac, and, if Berry had
not stepped in front of the bonnet and, taking him by the arm, led him
again to the back of the car, I believe he would have fallen down in a
fit.
"Are you ready?" I called.
A hurricane of affirmatory invective answered me.
I started the engine, changed into first and let in the clutch. As I
changed into second, uprose a medley of cries and barking. I leaned out,
exhorting the pedestrians by words and gestures to come aboard....
Head up, teeth bared, fists clenched and arms working, Mr. Dunkelsbaum
was running like a stag. Berry was loping along just behind, apparently
offering encouragement and advice, while the Sealyham was alternately
running and jumping up and down in front of the frantic alien, barking
as if he were possessed. Even as I looked, the inevitable happened.
Nobby miscalculated his distance and landed too close to the object of
his attentions, Berry gave a warning, but belated, shout, and Mr.
Dunkelsbaum made a desperate effort to avoid the stumbling-block,
tripped, recovered himself, crossed his legs, and with an unearthly cry
fell heavily to the ground.
I changed into third speed.
As we swung round the corner at the top of the hill, I threw a glance
over my shoulder.
Berry was sitting on the bank by the side of the road with his head in
his hands, Mr. Dunkelsbaum had risen to his feet and was in the act of
hurling himself in the direction of Nobby, and the latter, with his
small tail well over his back, was circling delightedly about his
victim, still barking like a fiend and ricochetting like a roulette
ball.
The next moment we were out of sight, and I changed into top speed.
Adèle caught at my arm.
"You're not going to leave them?"
I nodded.
"Best way out," I said. "Berry'll understand and pull out somehow. You
see, we're too well known about here to take any chances. And now I
think we'll slip along to _The Fountain_ and find Sir Anthony."
"You tell me I speak good English," said Adèle.
"So you do."
"Well, I don't want to spoil my record. What's the Anglo-Saxon for 'a
thaw-proof nerve '?"
"Can't be done," said I. "But I can put your mouth into Italian. _Bocca
bella carissima._ Now, isn't that nice?"
The sweet pretty lips began to tremble with laughter.
"You're incorrigible," she announced. "Fifteen long months, and you
haven't changed a bit."
"Long months, Adèle?"
The soft rose of her cheeks was glowing as she turned to reply.
"The longest I've ever spent," she said softly. "That--that's the worst
of cutting your hair. I thought it was never going to grow."
"They've been very long ones for me, Adèle."
Up went the delicate eyebrows.
"Have they?"
I nodded.
"A close scrutiny will reveal that my hair, once a rich mud colour, is
now flecked with grey."
"I should attribute that to the march of Time."
I shook my head.
"The responsibility," I said, "rests with the United States of America.
Seriously, I missed you terribly."
"That," said Adèle, "I refuse to believe. If you had, you would have
paid us a visit."
"I was not invited."
Adèle shrugged her shoulders.
"Any old way," she announced, "I'm here now. And, while we're on the
subject of hair, please remember that since you last saw me, I've put
mine up."
"Which means?"
"That I am a dangerous woman of the world, who gives nothing and takes
everything--with a grain of salt. I warn you, I've changed."
"Unquestionably," said I, "you have had a violent love-affair. That is
as plain as is the dainty nose upon your charming face."
Adèle regarded me with a dazzling smile.
"I forgot," she said, "that I was addressing an expert. Tell me, d'you
think I shall get over it?"
"If you don't," said I, "it shan't be my fault."
"You're very good."
"Not at all," said I. "Can you spell 'homoeopathy'?"
* * * * *
For a man who had just parted with the home of his fathers, poor old Sir
Anthony was in high spirits. Lock, stock and barrel, Merry Down had been
sold to the highest bidder. Of that there was no manner of doubt. What
was more to the point was that the purchaser, who had paid a good price,
was of English blood, and had known Derry Bagot at Eton, and soldiered
with him first in South Africa and afterwards in France. The place had
passed into good clean hands and was to be well cared for.
"A very civil fellow," said Sir Anthony, whom we had brought back to
White Ladies to tea, "and a sportsman. I'm truly thankful. Spoke so
nicely of Derry--said he'd always looked up to him and he was proud to
think he was to carry on his--his home." His voice faltered, and
something of the old stricken look hung for an instant in the keen grey
eyes. The next moment it was ousted by the flash of victory, and they
were bent upon me. "So you deported the alien to Ramilly? Gad, but I'd
've liked to see the terrier bring him down."
As he spoke there was the noise of a familiar scamper, and a moment
later Nobby had hurled himself across the terrace into my lap and was
licking my face with an enthusiastic violence which could not have been
more pronounced if he had not seen me for years.
And in his wake came Berry.
I had told Sir Anthony that, if he desired to thank any one, he must
thank my brother-in-law, because, but for the latter's quick wit. Merry
Down would have fallen into the enemy's hands. But, when the old baronet
had clapped him upon the back, Berry nodded at me.
"I believe," he said, "I was the first to conceive the felony. That
comes of being a magistrate. But that's the merchant who carried it out.
Largely at my expense, I admit. But that's a matter for him and me to
settle. I tell you, Sir Anthony, you must thank him--and
the--er--hell-hound. A more masterly display of devilry I never
witnessed." He sank into a chair. "Let refreshment be brought me."
Daphne blew him a kiss.
"One moment, old chap. Did the servants see you come in?"
Her husband nodded.
"Then there'll be some fresh tea in a moment. And now, what happened?
We're simply wild to hear."
"Yes," cried Jill eagerly. "And did you really call him 'Stunkenblotch'?
And what happened to his boot? And where----"
"The last thing we saw," said Adèle, "was the fellow get up and go for
Nobby. You were sitting by the side of the road."
"And before you begin," said I, "let me say that I wouldn't have left
you, brother, if I could have thought of any other way out. But it
seemed the only thing to do."
Berry put up his hand.
"Strange as it may seem," he said, "for once I don't blame you. If I
hadn't been so weak with laughter I might have boarded the car, but it
was then or never. I didn't expect you to wait."
"How did you get on?"
"I fear," said Berry, "that Mr. Dunkelsbaum did expect the car to be
waiting at the top of the hill. What he said when he found that the
road, which we could see for about five furlongs, was unoccupied, I
shall try to forget. Suffice it that he perspired with great freedom,
and for a long time appeared to be afflicted with an impediment in his
speech. Occasionally he addressed me in Patagonian, but since the only
words I could remember were _schloss_, _ausgang_ and _bahnhof_, my
replies, judging from their reception, were unsatisfactory and
sometimes, I grieve to think, even irrelevant.
"Presently I suggested that we should return for his boot. For this he
sought, whilst I detained Nobby. I had recommended that the latter's
services should be employed in the search, but the bare suggestion
provoked such a shocking outburst of profanity that I said no more.
When, after exploring the undergrowth for nearly half an hour, he
suddenly descried his footgear lodged in the branches of a neighbouring
ash, Mr. Dunkelsbaum's behaviour gave me cause to fear for his reason.
My theory that some dim-sighted fowl must have mistaken the truant for a
piece of refuse met with a furious dismissal, and, from the perfectly
poisonous stare with which he declined my offer of assistance to secure
his quarry, I was forced to the conclusion that he associated me with
its elevation. This discovery caused me much pain, but the rude man was
soon to pay dearly for his foul suspicion. True, he got it down: but it
seemed as if the ravages of wear and tear, to say nothing of its
immersion, had heavily discounted the value of the boot as an article of
wearing apparel, for, after several agonized endeavours to replace it
upon his foot, Mr. Dunkelsbaum screamed, flung it down, spat upon it,
and offered up what I took to be a short prayer for immediate death.
"After this horrible exhibition of temper, I felt that no useful purpose
could be served by remaining within sight or earshot of the abandoned
creature, so I released the terrier and made ready to depart.
"'Herr Splodgenblunk,' I said, 'I must now leave you. Should you be
still anxious to arrive at Bloat, you cannot do better than----'
"He interrupted me with a terrible cry.
"'I vos neffer vant to 'ave arrive at Bloat!'
"'But you said----'
"'No! No!' he raved. 'It vos _Brrrooch_, I 'ave say--_Brrrooch_!'
"I affected the utmost surprise.
"'Oh, Brooch. Why, we came miles out of our way. Brooch is over there.
Back the way we came, out of the enclosure, and the first on the right.
That's the worst of a Scotch accent.'"
Berry paused for the laughter to subside. As it died down--
"That," said I, "was refined cruelty."
"I confess," said Berry, "that, compared with the paroxysm which
succeeded my statement, its predecessors were pale and colourless.
Indeed, but for a timely diversion, I believe the gent would have gone
up in smoke.
"You see, it was like this.
"Ever since his release, Nobby had evinced a pardonable curiosity
regarding Mr. Dunkelsbaum's bootless foot. Unknown to its owner, he had
subjected this remarkable member to the closest scrutiny, and it was in
the midst of the other's spirited study of 'A Lost Soul' that he decided
to remove the objectionable cloak or covering, which it is charity to
describe as a sock.
"It was, of course, unmannerly. The dog should have controlled his
morbid thirst for knowledge. But there you are. Still, it was imprudent
of Mr. Dunkelsbaum to kick him in the ribs. I felt that instinctively.
Had the gentleman remained to argue, I should have said as much. But he
didn't.
"Going extremely short upon the near fore, he rocketed down the hill,
with Nobby in the immediate future, barking like a fiend and striving,
so to speak, to take Time by the forelock. From the fragment of cashmere
with which he presently returned, I fear that he was successful.
"And there you are. All things considered, if he's still alive, I should
think he'd make Brooch about half-past eight."
"He may get a lift," said Jonah.
"Not he. Once bitten, twice shy. After all, he asked for it, didn't he?
And now shall I have some tea? Or would that be greedy?"
Sir Anthony wiped his eyes.
"If he'd known you," he crowed, "as well as I do, he'd 've been more
careful. Who sups with the devil should hold a long spoon."
"I don't know what you mean, sir," said Berry. "I'm a respectable----"
"Exactly," said I. "And meek. Thanks to Uranus."