I was so delighted that for a moment I nearly forgot myself and shouted
with joy, but I remembered in time how shy he was, and stopped myself.
But I ran to him and jumped up quite quietly, and he told me to lie
down. I was disappointed that he didn't seem more pleased to see me. I
lay down.
It was very dark, but he had brought a lantern with him, and I could
see him moving about the room, picking things up and putting them in a
bag which he had brought with him. Every now and then he would stop and
listen, and then he would start moving round again. He was very quick
about it, but very quiet. It was plain that he didn't want Fred or his
father to come down and find him.
I kept thinking about this peculiarity of his while I watched him. I
suppose, being chummy myself, I find it hard to understand that
everybody else in the world isn't chummy too. Of course, my experience
at the public-house had taught me that men are just as different from
each other as dogs. If I chewed master's shoe, for instance, he used to
kick me; but if I chewed Fred's, Fred would tickle me under the ear.
And, similarly, some men are shy and some men are mixers. I quite
appreciated that, but I couldn't help feeling that the man carried
shyness to a point where it became morbid. And he didn't give himself a
chance to cure himself of it. That was the point. Imagine a man hating
to meet people so much that he never visited their houses till the
middle of the night, when they were in bed and asleep. It was silly.
Shyness has always been something so outside my nature that I suppose I
have never really been able to look at it sympathetically. I have
always held the view that you can get over it if you make an effort.
The trouble with the man was that he wouldn't make an effort. He went
out of his way to avoid meeting people.
I was fond of the man. He was the sort of person you never get to know
very well, but we had been together for quite a while, and I wouldn't
have been a dog if I hadn't got attached to him.
As I sat and watched him creep about the room, it suddenly came to me
that here was a chance of doing him a real good turn in spite of
himself. Fred was upstairs, and Fred, as I knew by experience, was the
easiest man to get along with in the world. Nobody could be shy with
Fred. I felt that if only I could bring him and the man together, they
would get along splendidly, and it would teach the man not to be silly
and avoid people. It would help to give him the confidence which he
needed. I had seen him with Bill, and I knew that he could be perfectly
natural and easy when he liked.
It was true that the man might object at first, but after a while he
would see that I had acted simply for his good, and would be grateful.
The difficulty was, how to get Fred down without scaring the man. I
knew that if I shouted he wouldn't wait, but would be out of the window
and away before Fred could get there. What I had to do was to go to
Fred's room, explain the whole situation quietly to him, and ask him to
come down and make himself pleasant.
The man was far too busy to pay any attention to me. He was kneeling in
a corner with his back to me, putting something in his bag. I seized
the opportunity to steal softly from the room.
Fred's door was shut, and I could hear him snoring. I scratched gently,
and then harder, till I heard the snores stop. He got out of bed and
opened the door.
'Don't make a noise,' I whispered. 'Come on downstairs. I want you to
meet a friend of mine.'
At first he was quite peevish.
'What's the idea,' he said, 'coming and spoiling a man's beauty-sleep?
Get out.'
He actually started to go back into the room.
'No, honestly, Fred,' I said, 'I'm not fooling you. There is a man
downstairs. He got in through the window. I want you to meet him. He's
very shy, and I think it will do him good to have a chat with you.'
'What are you whining about?' Fred began, and then he broke off
suddenly and listened. We could both hear the man's footsteps as he
moved about.
Fred jumped back into the room. He came out, carrying something. He
didn't say any more but started to go downstairs, very quiet, and I
went after him.
There was the man, still putting things in his bag. I was just going to
introduce Fred, when Fred, the silly ass, gave a great yell.