Celia sighed and held up her hand.
"Please may I speak to you a moment?" she said, trying to snap her
fingers. "Good; I've caught his eye. "We want----"
"I'm awfully sorry. What is it?"
"We want some more coal. Never mind this once whether INMAN beat HOBBS
or not. Just help me."
"Celia, you've been reading the paper," I said in surprise. "I thought
you only read the _feuill_--the serial story. How did you know INMAN was
playing HOBBS?"
"Well, POULTON or CARPENTIER or whoever it is. Look here, we're out of
coal. What shall I do?"
"That's easy. Order some more. What do you do when you're out of
nutmegs?"
"It depends if the nutmeg-porters are striking."
"Striking! Good heavens, I never thought about that." I glanced hastily
down the headlines of my paper. "Celia, this is serious. I shall have to
think about this seriously. Will you order a fire in the library? I
shall retire to the library and think this over."
"You can retire to the library, but you can't have a fire there. There's
only just enough for the kitchen for two days."
"Then come and chaperon me in the kitchen. Don't leave me alone with
Jane. You and I and Jane will assemble round the oven and discuss the
matter. B-r-r-r. It's cold."
"Not the kitchen. I'll assemble with you round the electric light
somewhere. Come on."
We went into the library and rallied round a wax vesta. It was a
terribly cold morning.
"I can't think like this," I said, after fifteen seconds' reflection.
"I'm going to the office. There's a fire there, anyway."
"You wouldn't like a nice secretary," said Celia timidly, "or an
office-girl, or somebody to lick the stamps?"
"I should never do any work if you came," I said, looking at her
thoughtfully. "Do come."
"No, I shall be all right. I've got shopping to do this morning, and I'm
going out to lunch, and I can pay some calls afterwards."
"Right. And you might find out what other people are doing, the people
you call on. And--er--if you _should_ be left alone in the drawing-room
a moment ... and the coal-box is at all adjacent.... You'll have your
muff with you, you see, and----Well, I leave that to you. Do what you
can."
I had a good day at the office and have never been so loth to leave. I
always felt I should get to like my work some time. I arrived home again
about six. Celia was a trifle later, and I met her on the mat as she
came in.
"Any luck?" I asked eagerly, feeling in her muff. "Dash it, Celia, there
are nothing but hands here. Do you mean to say you didn't pick up
anything at all?"
"Only information," she said, leading the way into the drawing-room.
"Hallo, what's this? A fire!"
"A small involuntary contribution from the office. I brought it home
under my hat. Well, what's the news?"
"That if we want any coal we shall have to fetch it ourselves. And we
can get it in small amounts from greengrocers. Why greengrocers, I don't
know."
"I suppose they have to have fires to force the cabbages. But what about
the striking coal-porters? If you do their job, won't they picket you or
pick-axe you or something?"
"Oh, of course, I should hate to go alone. But I shall be all right if
you come with me."
Celia's faith in me is very touching. I am not quite so confident about
myself. No doubt I could protect her easily against five or six great
brawny hulking porters ... armed with coal-hammers ... but I am
seriously doubtful whether a dozen or so, aided with a little luck,
mightn't get the better of me.
"Don't let us be rash," I said thoughtfully. "Don't let us infuriate
them."
"You aren't afraid of a striker?" asked Celia in amazement.
"Of an ordinary striker, no. In a strike of bank-clerks, or--or
chess-players, or professional skeletons, I should be a lion among the
blacklegs; but there is something about the very word coal-porter
which----You know, I really think this is a case where the British Army
might help us. We have been very good to it."
The British Army, I should explain, has been walking out with Jane
lately. When we go away for week-ends we let the British Army drop in to
supper. Luckily it neither smokes nor drinks nor takes any great
interest in books. It is a great relief, on your week-ends in the
country, to _know_ that the British Army is dropping in to supper, when
otherwise you might only have suspected it. I may say that we are rather
hoping to get a position in the Army Recruiting film on the strength of
this hospitality.
"Let the British Army go," I said. "We've been very kind to him."
"I fancy Jane has left the service. I don't know why."
"Probably they quarrelled because she gave him caviare two nights
running," I said. "Well, I suppose I shall have to go. But it will be no
place for women. To-morrow after-noon I will sally forth alone to do it.
But," I added, "I shall probably return with two coal-porters clinging
round my neck. Order tea for three."
Next evening, after a warm and busy day at the office, I put on my
top-hat and tail coat and went out. If there was any accident I was
determined to be described in the papers as "the body of a well-dressed
man." To go down to history as "the body of a shabbily-dressed
individual" would be too depressing. Beautifully clothed, I jumped into
a taxi and drove to Celia's greengrocer. Celia herself was keeping warm
by paying still more calls.
"I want," I said nervously, "a hundredweight of coal and a cauliflower."
This was my own idea. I intended to place the cauliflower on the top of
a sack, and so to deceive any too-inquisitive coal-porter. "No, no," I
should say, "not coal; nice cauliflowers for Sunday's dinner."
"Can't deliver the coal," said the greengrocer.
"I'm going to take it with me," I explained.
He went round to a yard at the back. I motioned my taxi along and
followed him at the head of three small boys who had never seen a
top-hat and a cauliflower so close together. We got the sack into
position.
"Come, come," I said to the driver, "haven't you ever seen a
dressing-case before? Give us a hand with it or I shall miss my train
and be late for dinner."
He grinned and gave a hand. I paid the greengrocer, pressed the
cauliflower into the hand of the smallest boy, and drove off....
It was absurdly easy.
There was no gore at all.
"There!" I said to Celia when she came back. "And when that's done I'll
get you some more."
"Hooray! And yet," she went on, "I'm almost sorry. You see, I was
working off my calls so nicely, and you'd been having some quite busy
days at the office, hadn't you?"