HOW BERRY RAN CONTRABAND GOODS, AND THE DUKE OF PADUA PLIGHTED JILL HIS
TROTH
That Jill was in love with the Duke of Padua was only less manifest
than that the Duke of Padua was in love with Jill. Something, however,
was wrong. So much our instinct reported. Our reason refused to
believe it, and, with one consent, we pretended that all was well. For
all that, there lay a shadow athwart the babies' path. Yet the sky was
cloudless.... The thing was too hard for us.
With a sigh, I opened my case and took out a cigarette. Then I handed
the case to Berry. The latter waved it aside and wrinkled his nose.
"I'm through," he said shortly. "Offal's all very well in an
incinerator, if the wind's the right way, but, as a substitute for
tobacco--well, it soon palls."
I closed the case and slid it into my pocket.
"I must confess," I said, "that I'm nearing the breaking-point."
"Well, I wish you'd be quick and reach it," said Adèle. "How you can
go on at all, after finding that fly, I can't imagine."
She shuddered at the memory.
Less than a week ago a suspicious protuberance in the line of a local
cigarette had attracted my attention. Investigation had revealed the
presence of a perfect, if somewhat withered, specimen of the _musca
domestica_ imbedded in the vegetation which I had been proposing to
smoke. This was too much for the girls, none of whom had since touched
a cigarette, and when my brother-in-law suggested that the fly had
probably desired cremation, and urged that, however obnoxious, the
wishes of the dead should be respected, Daphne had reviled her husband
and requested Jonah to open the door, so that she could sit in a
draught.
We were in a bad way.
Now that we were in France, the difficulty of obtaining cigars,
cigarettes, or tobacco, such as we were used to enjoy, seemed to be
insuperable. The prohibitive duty, the uncertainty and by no means
infrequent failure of the French mails, brought the cost of procuring
supplies from England to a figure we could not stomach: attempts at
postal smuggling had ended in humiliating failure: the wares which
France herself was offering were not at all to our taste. We were
getting desperate. Jonah, who had smoked the same mixture for thirteen
years, was miserable. Berry's affection for a certain brand of cigars
became daily more importunate. My liver was suffering....
"We'd better try getting a licence to import," I said heavily. "It may
do something."
"Ah," said my brother-in-law, drawing a letter from his pocket, "I knew
I had some news for you. I heard from George this morning. I admit I
don't often take advice, but this little missive sounds an unusually
compelling call.
"_Above all, do not be inveigled into obtaining or, worse still, acting
upon, a so-called 'licence to import.' It is a copper-bottomed have.
I got one, when I was in Paris, gleefully ordered five thousand
cigarettes from Bond Street, and started to count the days. I soon got
tired of that. Three months later I got a dirty form from the Customs,
advising me that there was a case of cigarettes, addressed to me, lying
on the wharf at Toulon--yes, Toulon. They added that the charges to be
paid before collection amounted to nine hundred francs by way of duty,
eleven hundred and sixty-five by way of freight, and another three
francs forty for every day they remained in the Custom House. In this
connection, they begged to point out that they had already lain there
for six weeks. Friend, can you beat it? But what, then, did I do?
Why, I took appropriate action. I wrote at once, saying that, as I was
shortly leaving for New York, I should be obliged if they would forward
them via Liverpool to the Piraeus: I inquired whether they had any
objection to being paid in roubles: and I advised them that I was
shortly expecting a pantechnicon, purporting to contain furniture, but,
in reality, full of mines. These I begged them to handle with great
care and to keep in a temperature never higher than thirty-seven
degrees Fahrenheit, as they were notoriously sensitive, and I
particularly wished to receive them intact. I added that the
pantechnicon would be consigned to me under another name. A fair
knowledge of the French temperament suggests to me that the next two or
three furniture vans which arrive at Toulon will be very stickily
welcomed._"
I threw away my cigarette and stared at the mountains.
"'Though every prospect pleases,'" I murmured, "'and only fags are
vile.'"
"The only thing to do," said Adèle, "is to have a little sent out from
England from time to time, and ration yourselves accordingly."
Berry shook his head.
"Easier to stop altogether," he said. "Tobacco's not like food. (I'm
not speaking of the stuff you get here. Some of that is extremely like
food--of a sort. I should think it would, as they say, 'eat lovely.')
Neither is it like liquor. You don't carry a flask or a bottle of beer
in your hip-pocket--more's the pity. But nobody's equipment is
complete without a case or a pouch. Why? So that the moment this
particular appetite asserts itself, it can be gratified. No.
Smoking's a vice; and as soon as you clap a vice in a strait-jacket, it
loses its charm. A cigar three times a day after meals doesn't cut any
ice with me." He tilted his hat over his eyes and sank his chin upon
his chest. "And now don't talk for a bit. I want to concentrate."
Adèle laid a hand upon his arm.
"One moment," she said. "If the car arrives before you've finished,
are we to interrupt you?"
"Certainly not, darling. Signal to the driver to stop in the middle
distance. Oh, and ask approaching pedestrians to keep on the grass.
Should any children draw near, advise their nurse that I have the
mumps."
We were sitting upon a seat in the Parc Beaumont, revelling in the
temper of the sunshine and the perfection of the air. A furlong away,
Daphne, Jill, and Jonah were playing tennis, with Piers, Duke of Padua,
to make a fourth. Nobby and a fox-terrier were gambolling upon an
adjacent lawn.
Pau has many virtues, all but one of which may, I suppose, be severally
encountered elsewhere upon the earth. The one, however, is her
peculiar. The place is airy, yet windless. High though she stands,
and clear by thirty miles of such shelter as the mountains can give, by
some queer trick of Nature's, upon the map of Æolus Pau and her
pleasant precincts are shown as forbidden ground. There is no stiff
breeze to rake the boulevard: there are no gusts to buffet you at
corners: there are no draughts in the streets. The flow of sweet fresh
air is rich and steady, but it is never stirred. A mile away you may
see dust flying; storm and tempest savage the Pyrenees: upon the
gentlest day fidgety puffs fret Biarritz, as puppies plague an old
hound. But Pau is sanctuary. Once in a long, long while some errant
blast blunders into the town. Then, for a second of time, the place is
Bedlam. The uncaught shutters are slammed, the unpegged laundry is
sent whirling, and, if the time is evening, the naked flames of lamps
are blown out. But before a match can be lighted, the air is still
again. And nobody cares. It was an accident, and Pau knows it.
Probably the gust had lost its way and was frightened to death. Such a
thing will not happen again for two or three months....
"I like Piers," said Adèle suddenly. "But I think he might kiss my
hand."
"How dare you?" said I.
"I do really," said Adèle. "He kisses Daphne's and he actually kisses
Jill's."
"That's all wrong," said I. "You don't kiss a maiden's hand."
"Of course you do," grunted Berry. "A well-bred son of Italy----"
"But he isn't a son of Italy. He's English on both sides."
"I'm not talking of his sides," said Berry. "It's a matter of bosom.
You may have English forbears, but if they've been Italian dukes for
two centuries, it's just possible that they've imbibed something
besides Chianti. Personally, I think it's a very charming custom. It
saves wiping your mouth, and----"
"Well, why doesn't he kiss my hand?" said Adèle.
"Because, sweetheart, you are--were American. And--he's very
punctilious--he probably thinks that a quondam citizen might have no
use for such circumstance."
"I should," said Adèle. "I should just love it. I like Piers."
I looked across at my brother-in-law.
"D'you hear that?" I inquired. "She likes him."
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"I told her not to marry you," he said.
"No, you didn't," said Adèle. "You egged me on."
"Oh, you wicked story," said Berry. "Why, I fairly spread myself on
the brutality of his mouth."
"You said he was honest, sober, and hard-working."
"Nonsense," said Berry. "I was talking of somebody else. I have seen
him sober, of course, but---- Besides, you were so precipitate. You
had an answer for everything. When I spoke of his ears, you said you'd
get used to them: and when I asked you if you'd noticed----"
"I shan't," said Adèle. "I mean, I didn't. However, it's done now.
And, after all, he's very convenient. If we hadn't got married, I
shouldn't have wintered at Pau. And if I hadn't wintered at Pau, I
shouldn't have met Piers."
"True," said Berry, "true. There's something in that." He nodded in
my direction. "D'you find he snores much?"
"Nothing to speak of," said Adèle. "Used he to?"
"Like the devil," said Berry. "The vibration was fearful. We had to
have his room underpinned."
"Oh, he's quite all right now," said my wife. "Indeed, as husbands go,
he's--he's very charming."
"You don't mean to say you still love him?"
"I--I believe I do."
"Oh, the girl's ill," said Berry. "Put your head between your knees,
dear, and think of a bullock trying to pass through a turnstile. And
why 'as husbands go'? As a distinguished consort, I must protest
against that irreverent expression."
"Listen," said Adèle, laughing. "All women adore ceremonious
attention--even Americans. The ceremonious attentions of the man they
love are the sweetest of all. It's the tragedy of every happy marriage
that, when comradeship comes in at the door, ceremony flies out of the
window. Now, my husband's my king. Once he was my courtier. I
wouldn't go back for twenty million worlds, but--I've got a smile for
the old days."
"I know," said Berry softly. "I know. Years ago Daphne told me the
same. And I tried and tried.... But it wouldn't work somehow. She
was very sweet about it, and very wise. 'Ceremony,' she said, 'gets as
far as the finger-tips.' I vowed I'd carry it further, but she only
smiled.... We retired there and then, ceremoniously enough, to dress
for dinner. I'd bathed and changed and got as far as my collar, when
the stud fell down my back. I pinched it between my shoulder-blades.
At that moment she came to the door to see if I was ready...." He
spread out expressive hands. "They talk about the step from the
sublime to the ridiculous. We didn't use any stairs; we went down in
the lift. After that I gave up trying. A sense of humour, however,
has pulled us through, and now we revile one another."
"And so, you see," said Adèle, slipping an arm through mine, "Piers has
wares to offer me which you haven't. The shame of it is, he won't
offer them. Still, he's very nice. The way in which he solemnly takes
us all for granted is most attractive. He's as natural as a baby a
year old. He just bows very courteously and then joins in the game.
The moment it's over, he makes his bow and retires. We call him Piers:
he calls us by our Christian names--and we haven't known him a week.
It's not self-confidence; it's just pure innocence."
"I confess it's remarkable," said I. "And I don't wonder you like him.
All the same, I'm sorry----"
"There!" cried Adèle suddenly, pointing across the lawn. "Boy, he's
gone in again."
I reached the edge of the ornamental water in time to observe the
Sealyham emerge upon the opposite bank.
"You naughty dog," said I. "You naughty, wicked dog." Nobby shook
himself gleefully. "No, don't come across. Go round the other way.
Go back!"
The dog hesitated, and, by way of turning the scale, I threw my stick
for him to retrieve. As this left my hand, the hook caught in my cuff,
and the cane fell into mid-stream....
As Nobby climbed out with the stick, the park-keeper arrived--a crabbed
gentleman, in a long blue cloak and the deuce of a stew.
The swans, he said, would be frightened. (There was one swan, three
hundred yards away.) Always they were being pursued by bold dogs.
_Mon Dieu_, but it was shameful. That hounds should march unled in the
Parc Beaumont was forbidden--absolutely. Not for them to uproot were
the trees and flowers planted. Where, then, was my attachment? And I
had encouraged my dog. Actually I had made sport for him. He had seen
the deed with his eyes....
One paw raised, ears pricked, his little head on one side, his small
frame quivering with excitement, his bright brown eyes alight with
expectation, a dripping Nobby regarded us....
I took a note from my pocket.
"He is a wicked dog," I said. "There. He pays his fine. As for me, I
shall be punished enough. My home is distant, and I was to have
driven. Now he is wet and must grow dry, so I must walk. I will think
out his punishment as I go." And, with that, I hooked my cane to the
delinquent's collar and turned away.
"_Pardon, Monsieur._" The old fellow came shambling after us.
"_Pardon_, but do not punish him, I pray you." Nobby screwed round his
head and looked at him. "Oh, but how handsome he is! Perhaps he did
not understand. And I should be sorry to think ..." Nobby started
towards him and moved his tail. "See how he understands. He has the
eyes of a dove." He stooped to caress his _protégé_. "Ah, but you are
cold, my beauty. Unleash him, _Monsieur_, I pray you, that he may warm
himself. I shall not notice him." As I did his bidding, and Nobby
capered away, "_Bon,_" he said pleasedly. "_Bon. Au revoir, mon
beau._" He straightened his bowed shoulders and touched his hat. "_A
votre service, Monsieur._"
I returned thoughtfully to where Adèle and Berry were sitting, watching
us closely and pretending that we did not belong to them. So far as
personal magnetism was concerned, between Nobby and the Duke of Padua
there seemed to be little to choose. To judge by results, the two were
equally irresistible. In the race for the Popularity Stakes the rest
of the males of our party were simply nowhere.
With a sigh, a blue coupé slid past me and then slowed down. The grey
two-seater behind it did the same. When I say that Daphne, who loathes
mechanics, was seated in the latter conveyance, submitting zealously to
an oral examination by Piers regarding the particular functions of the
various controls, it will be seen that my recent conclusions were well
founded.
"Letters," said Jill, getting out of the coupé. "One for Berry and two
for Adèle." She distributed them accordingly. "Fitch brought them up
on his bicycle. And Piers' aunt is coming--the one whose villa he's
at. I forgot her name, but he says she's awfully nice."
"Splendid," said I. "And now congratulate me. Having tramped the town
all the morning, I've got to walk home."
"Why?"
I pointed to Nobby.
"That he may warm himself," I said.
My cousin gave a horrified cry.
"Oh, Boy! And we only washed him last night."
"I'll take him," cried Piers. "I'd like to. And you can drive Daphne
back."
I shook my head, laughing.
"It's his master's privilege," I said. "Besides, he's had his
scolding, and if I deserted him he'd be hurt. And he's really a good
little chap."
"But----"
"My dear Piers," said Daphne, laying a hand on his arm, "rather than
risk hurting that white scrap's feelings, my brother would walk to
Lyons."
"You will all," said Berry, "be diverted to learn that I am faced with
the positively filthy prospect of repairing to London forthwith. After
spending a quarter of an hour in an overheated office in New Square,
Lincoln's Inn, in the course of which I shall make two affidavits which
nobody will ever read, I shall be at liberty to return. Give me the
Laws of England."
"Never mind, old chap," said Daphne. "We'll soon be back again. I
shall go with you, of course. Ought we to start to-night?"
Considering that there was snow in London, that the visit would entail
almost continuous travelling for nearly thirty hours each way, and that
my sister cannot sleep in a train, it seemed as if Berry, at any rate,
was pulling out of the ruck.
"My sweet," replied my brother-in-law, "I won't hear of it. However,
we'll argue it out in private. Yes, I must start to-night."
"You must go?" said Jonah softly.
"Can't get out of it."
"Right." My cousin leaned out of the car. "I'll give you my
tobacconist's address. The best way will be to have the stuff decanted
and sewn in your coat."
There was a pregnant silence.
Then--
"Saved!" I cried exultantly. "Saved!"
"What d'you mean--'Saved'?" said Berry.
"Hush," said I, looking round. "Not an 'h' mute! This summons of
yours is a godsend. With a little ingenuity, you can bring enough
contraband in to last us till May."
* * * * *
If our efforts to induce my brother-in-law to see reason were
eventually successful, this was no more than we deserved. We made
light of the risk of detection, we explained how the stuff could be
concealed, we told him the demeanour to assume, we said we wished we
were going, we declared it was done every day, we indemnified him
against fines, we entreated, we flattered, we cajoled, we appealed to
him "as a sportsman," we said it was "only right," we looked
unutterable things, and at last, half an hour before it was time for
him to start for the station, he promised, with many misgivings and
expressions of self-reproach, to see what he could do. Instantly, from
being his suppliants, we became his governors; and the next twenty
minutes were employed in pouring into his ears the most explicit
directions regarding his purchase and disposal of our particular
fancies. Finally we made out a list....
He had absolutely refused to allow my sister to accompany him, but we
all went down to the station to see him off.
As we were pacing the platform--
"Have you got the list?" said Jonah.
The same question had been asked before--several times.
"Yes," said Berry, "I have. And if anybody asks me again, I shall
produce it and tear it into shreds before their eyes."
"Well, for Heaven's sake, don't lose it," said I, "because----"
"To hear you," said Berry, "anybody would think that I was mentally
deficient. Anybody would think that I was going to enclose it in a
note to the Customs, telling them to expect me on Saturday, disguised
in a flat 'at and a bag of gooseberries, and advising them to pull up
their socks, as I should resist like a madman. I don't know what's the
matter with you."
We endeavoured to smooth him down.
"And if," purred Daphne, "if there should be any--that is--what I mean
is, should any question arise----"
Berry laughed hysterically.
"Yes," he said, "go on. 'Any question.' Such as whether they can give
me more than five years' hard labour. I understand."
"--get on the telephone to Berwick. He knows the President personally
and can do anything."
"Sweetheart," replied her husband, "you may bet your most precious
life.... If Berwick wasn't in Paris, I wouldn't touch the business
with the end of a forty-foot pole."
"I wish I was going with you," said Daphne wistfully.
Berry took off his hat.
"You are," he said gently, "you are." He laid his hand upon his heart.
"I wish I could put the tobacco in the same poor place. But that's
impossible. For one thing, lady, you've all the room there is."
Which was pretty good for a king who hadn't been a courtier for nearly
nine years.
* * * * *
It was upon the following afternoon that Adèle, who was brushing Nobby,
sat back on her heels.
"When Jill," she said, "becomes the Duchess of Padua, what bloods we
shall be."
"She isn't there yet," said I.
"Where?"
"My sweet," said I, "I apologise. I was using a figure of speech,
which is at once slipshod and American."
"That," said my wife, "is the worst of being English. You're like the
Indian tailor who was given a coat to copy and reproduced a tear in the
sleeve. Imitation can be too faithful. Never mind. I forgive you."
"D'you hear that, Nobby?" The terrier started to his feet. "Did you
hear what the woman said? That we, who have founded precedents from
time immemorial--that you and I, who taught America to walk----"
"He's Welsh," said Adèle.
"I don't care. It's scandalous. Who defiled the Well of English? And
now we're blamed for drinking the water."
Adèle looked out of the window and smiled at a cloud.
"Once," she said slowly, "once I asked you if you would have known I
was an American.... And when you said 'Yes,' I asked you why.... Do
you remember your answer? ... Of course," she added swiftly, "that was
before we were married."
"You beautiful witch," said I. "You unkind, beautiful witch. You've
only to touch the water with the tip of your little red tongue to make
it pure. You've only to put your lips to it to make it the sweetest
music that ever a poor fool heard. You've only to smile like that to
make me proud to kiss your shining foot."
"Nobby!" cried Adèle. "Oh, Nobby! Did you hear that? Did you hear
what the man said? A real courtier's speech! But how can he kiss my
feet when I'm sitting on them?"
I stepped to her side, picked her up, and swung her on to a table.
Then I kissed her sweet insteps.
From her perch my wife addressed the Sealyham.
"It's all right, Nobby," she said relievedly. "He is a king, after
all. Only a king would have done that."
As I sat down by her side--
"I'd love to be a queen," cried a voice. "Love to. Wouldn't you like
to be a king?"
It was Jill speaking.
The fresh tones came floating up and in at the open window. She could
not have heard our words. It was pure coincidence.
Adèle and I sat very still.
"I don't know," said Piers slowly.
"I'll tell you what I'd do," said Jill. "I'd--Piers, what is the
matter?"
"Nothing," said Piers.
"There is," said Jill accusingly. "You know there is. I can see it in
your eyes. What are you thinking about?"
"I--I don't know," stammered her swain.
"I think you might tell me," said Jill aggrievedly. "I always tell you
everything. Once or twice lately you've got all quiet suddenly--I
can't think why. Is it because your aunt's coming?"
Piers laughed bitterly.
"Good Heavens, no," he said.
"Well, why is it, then?"
For a moment there was no answer.
Then all of a sudden the sluice-gate of speech was pulled up.
"Oh, Jill, Jill, Jill... I could go on saying your name for the rest
of my life! I say it all the way home. I say it as I'm going to
sleep. I say it when I wake in the morning... I saw you first at
Biarritz. You never knew. I was staying with some Italian people.
They've got a place there. And I was alone in the grounds. And then I
saw you--with Boy. You looked so wonderful.... All in green you were,
standing with your feet close together, and your head on one side.
Your hair was coming down, and the sun was shining on it.... I found
out who you were, and came to Pau. I wanted to get to know you. I
felt I must. And, whenever you all went out, I followed in the
two-seater. And then--I got to know you--at St. Bertrand--that
wonderful, wonderful day.... I--was--so--awfully--happy.... And
now"--his voice sank to a wail--"I wish I hadn't. If only I'd stopped
to think.... But I didn't. I just knew I wanted to be with you, and
that was all. Oh," he burst out suddenly, "why did I ever do it? Why
did I ever follow you--that wonderful day? If I'd dreamed how
miserable it'd make me, how miserably wretched I'd be... It's the
dreadful hopelessness, Jill, the dreadful hopelessness.... But I can't
help it. It's something stronger than me. It's not enough to be with
you. I want to touch you: I want to put my arms round your neck: I
want to play with your hair.... Of course I'm terribly lucky to be
able to kiss your hand, but---- Ah, don't be frightened. I was--only
playing, Jill, only pretending. And now I'm going to be all serious
again--not quiet, but serious. Good-bye, Madonna. Have you ever seen
_Pagliacci_? Where the fellow bursts into tears? I think I could do
that part this afternoon...."
A light padding upon the gravel came to our ears.
Then a car's door slammed.
A moment later Piers' two-seater purred its way down the drive....
Adèle and I continued to sit very still.
Presently I turned to her and raised my eyebrows.
"Hopelessness?" I whispered. "Hopelessness? What on earth does he
mean?"
My wife shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
Then she laid a finger upon her lips.
I nodded obediently.
* * * * *
"Yes," said Berry, "you see in me a nervous wreck. My heart's
misfiring, I'm over at the knees, and with the slightest encouragement
I can break into a cold sweat."
He sank into a chair and covered his eyes....
I had meant to meet him at the station, but the early train had beaten
me, so Fitch had gone with the car. Indeed, it was not yet eight
o'clock, and Daphne was still abed. That had not prevented us from
following Berry into her room, any more than had the fact that no one
of us was ready for breakfast. I had no coat or waistcoat: so far as
could be seen, Jonah was attired in a Burberry and a pair of trousers:
a glance at Adèle suggested that she was wearing a fur coat, silk
stockings, and a tortoise-shell comb, while Jill was wrapped in a
kimono, with her fresh fair hair tumbled about her shoulders.
Jonah voiced our anxiety.
"You--you've got the goods?"
"They're downstairs," said Berry. "But don't question me. I can't
bear it. I'll tell you all in a minute, but you must let me alone.
Above all, don't thwart me. I warn you, my condition is critical."
He sighed heavily.
Apparently impressed by his demeanour, Nobby approached, set his paws
upon his knee, and licked his face.
"There you are," said Berry, lifting the dog to his lap. "The very
fowls of the air pity me. No, it's not a sore, old chap. It's where I
cut myself yesterday. But I'm just as grateful. And now lie still, my
beauty, and poor old Sit-tight the Smuggler will tell you such a tale
as will thicken your blood.
"Upon Friday morning last I purchased a uniform-case. Not a new
one--the oldest and most weather-beaten relic I could procure. On
Friday evening I packed it. One thousand cigars, five thousand
cigarettes, and six pounds of tobacco looked very well in it. My
sword, a pair of field boots, breeches, coat--carefully folded to
display the staff badges--and my red hat looked even better. I filled
up with socks, shirts, puttees, slacks, spurs and all the old emblems
of Mars that I could lay my hands on. Finally I leavened the lot with
a pound of the best white pepper--to discourage the moths, my fellow,
to discourage the moths."
His tone suggesting the discomfiture of the wicked, the Sealyham barked
his applause.
"Quite so. Well, I locked the case up and corded it, and precisely at
ten o'clock I retired to bed.
"I never remember feeling so full of beans as I did the next morning.
I could have bluffed my way across Europe with a barrel of whiskey on a
lead. I felt ready for anything. Sharp at a quarter to eleven I was
at the station, and one minute later a porter, with the physique of a
blacksmith, had the box on his shoulder and my dressing-case in his
hand.
"It was as he was preparing to lay his spoils at the feet of the
registration-monger that my bearer trod upon a banana-skin.... To say
that he took a toss, conveys nothing at all. It was the sort of fall
you dream of--almost too good to be true. And my uniform-case, of
which he never let go, described a very beautiful parabola, and then
came down upon the weigh-bridge, as the swiple of an uplifted flail
comes down upon grain....
"Both hinges went, of course. It says much for the box that the whole
thing didn't melt then and there. If I hadn't corded it, most of the
stuff would have been all over the Vauxhall Bridge Road.
"Well, I was so rattled that I could hardly think. I joined
mechanically in the laughter, I assured complete strangers that it
didn't matter at all, I carried through the registration like a man in
a dream, and I tipped everybody I could see. It was as I was thrusting
blindly towards the gates that I first realised that half the people in
the place were sneezing to glory. I was still digesting this
phenomenon when I sneezed myself....
"Still it never occurred to me. There are times when you have to be
told right out. I didn't have to wait long.
"As I presented my ticket, a truck full of luggage was pushed through
the gate next to mine. The porters about it were sneezing bitterly.
'Snuff?' said one of them contemptuously. 'Snuff be blarsted! _It's
pepper!_'
"Whether at that moment my stomach in fact slipped or not I am unable
to say, but the impression that my contents had dropped several inches
was overwhelming.
"I staggered into the Pullman, more dead than alive.... After a large
barley and a small water, I felt somewhat revived, but it was not until
the train was half-way to Dover that I had myself in hand. I was just
beginning under the auspices of a second milk and soda, to consider my
hideous plight, when a genial fool upon the opposite side of the table
asked me if I had 'witnessed the comedy at Victoria.' Icily I
inquired: 'What comedy?' He explained offensively that 'some cuckoo
had tried the old wheeze of stuffing pepper in his trunk to put off the
Customs,' and that the intended deterrent had untimely emerged. My
brothers, conceive my exhilaration. 'The old wheeze.' I could have
broken the brute's neck. When he offered me a filthy-looking cigar
with a kink in it, and said with a leer that I shouldn't 'get many like
that on the other side of the Chops,' I could have witnessed his
mutilation unmoved....
"Still, it's an ill wind.... The swine's words were like a spur. I
became determined to get the stuff through.
"Grimly I watched the case go on to the boat, to the accompaniment of
such nasal convulsions as I had never believed to be consistent with
life itself. By way of diverting suspicion, I asked one of the crew
what was the matter. His blasphemous answer was charged with such
malignity that I found it necessary to stay myself with yet another
still lemonade.
"Arrived at Calais, I hurried on board the train.
"The journey to Paris was frightful. The nearer we got, the more
dishevelled became my wits. The power of concentration deserted me.
Finally, as we were running in, I found that I had forgotten the French
for 'moths.' I'd looked it out the night before: I'd been murmuring it
all day long: and now, at the critical moment, it had deserted me. I
clasped my head in my hands and thought like a madman. Nothing doing.
I thought all round it, of course. I thought of candles and camphor
and dusk. My vocabulary became gigantic, but it did not include the
French equivalent for 'moths.' In desperation I approached my
_vis-à-vis_ and, in broken accents, implored him to tell me 'the French
for the little creatures which you find in your clothes.'...
"I like the French. If I'd asked an Englishman, he'd have pulled the
communication-cord, but this fellow never so much as stared. He just
released a little spurt of good-will and then started in, as if his
future happiness depended on putting me straight. 'But I was meaning
the fleas. Oh, indubitably. Animals most gross. Only last November
he himself....' It took quite a lot of persuasion to get him off
fleas. Then he offered me lice. I managed to make him understand that
the attack was delivered when the clothes were unoccupied. Instantly
he suggested rats. With an effort I explained that the things I meant
were winged. As the train came to a standstill, he handed me
'_chauvesouris_.' Bats! I ask you....
"I stepped on to the platform as if I was descending into my tomb. How
I got to the baggage-room, I'm hanged if I know; but I remember
standing there, shivering and wiping the sweat off my face. Truck by
truck the registered baggage appeared....
"I heard my case coming for about a quarter of a mile.
"The architecture of the baggage-room at the _Gare du Nord_ may be
crude, but its acoustic properties are superb. The noise which
accompanied the arrival of the cortege was simply ear-splitting. I was
in the very act of wondering whether, if I decided to retire, my legs
would carry me, when, with a crash, my uniform-case was slammed on to
the counter three paces away....
"A cloud of pepper arose from it, and in an instant all was confusion.
Passengers and porters in the vicinity dropped everything and made a
rush for the doors. A Customs official, who was plumbing the depths of
a basket-trunk, turned innocently enough to see the case smoking at his
elbow, dropped his cigar into some blouses, let out the screech of a
maniac and threw himself face downward upon the floor. Somebody cried:
'Women and children first!' And, the supreme moment having arrived,
I--I had the brain-wave.
"I stepped to the case and, with most horrible oaths, flung my hat upon
the ground, smote upon the counter with my fist and started to rave
like a fanatic. I made the most awful scene. I roared out that it was
my box, and that it and its contents were irretrievably ruined.
Gradually curiosity displaced alarm, and people began to return. I
yelled and stamped more than ever. I denounced the French railways, I
demanded the station-master, I swore I'd have damages, I tore off the
cords, I lifted the lid, I alternately sneezed and raged, and, finally,
I took out my tunic and shook it savagely. In vain the excisemen
insisted that it was not their business. I cursed them bitterly,
jerked an ounce of pepper out of a pair of brogues, and replied that
they were responsible....
"It was after I had shaken my second pair of slacks that the officials,
with streaming eyes, began to beseech me to unpack the case no further.
If only they'd known, I didn't need much inducing. I could see the
shape of a cigarette-box under one of my shirts. Of course I argued a
bit, for the look of the thing, but eventually I allowed myself to be
persuaded and shoved the kit back. Finally they scrawled all over the
lid with pieces of chalk, and, vowing the most hideous vengeance and
invoking the British Ambassador, I stalked in the wake of my box out of
the station.
"I was through.
"I had my dinner in bed. I think I deserved it. Still, I suppose it
was indiscreet to have ordered lobster _á la Newburg_. I have slept
better. I _was_ sleeping better at half-past eight the next morning,
when a waiter entered to say that _there was an official to see me from
the Gare du Nord_....
"Believing it to be another dream, I turned over and shut my eyes. The
waiter approached and, touching me on the arm, repeated his ghastly
communication. With a frightful effort I explained that I had the ague
and could see nobody for some days. Mercifully he retired, and for a
little space I lay in a sort of trance. After a bit I began to wonder
what, in the name of Heaven, I was to do. I was afraid to get up, and
I was afraid to stay in bed. I was afraid to stop in the hotel, and I
was terrified of meeting the official downstairs. I was afraid to
leave the case there, and I was still more afraid to take it away. I
was getting hungry, and I was afraid to ring for breakfast. It was a
positively poisonous position. Finally, after a lot of thought, I got
up, bolted the door, unpacked the blasted box and shoved all the
tobacco in the drawers of the wardrobe. Luckily there was a key. The
kit I disposed naturally enough. Then I had a bath and dressed.
"As I was fastening my collar, the telephone went. It was the _Gare du
Nord_. I jammed the receiver back.
"As I passed through the hall, a clerk dashed after me 'The _Gare du
Nord_,' he said, 'were insisting upon seeing me about a case of mine.'
I replied that I was busy all day, and could see nobody before six
o'clock. I didn't mention that my train went at five. It was as well
I didn't argue, for, as I left the hotel, a station official entered.
I leapt into a taxi and told the driver to go to _Notre Dame_. Not
that I felt like Church, but it was the first place I could think of.
Somebody shouted after me, but--well, you know how they drive in Paris.
I stopped round the second corner, discharged the taxi, and walked to a
restaurant. By rights, I should have been ravenous. As it was, the
food stuck in my throat. A bottle of lime-juice, however, pulled me
together. After luncheon I went to a cinema--I had to do something.
Besides, the darkness attracted me.... I fancy I dozed for a bit. Any
way, the first thing I remember was a couple of men being arrested in
the lounge of a hotel. It was most realistic. What was more, the
clerk who had run after me in the morning and the clerk on the screen
might have been twins.... I imagine that my hair rose upon my head,
and for the second time it seemed certain that I had mislaid my paunch.
"I got out of the place somehow, to find that it was snowing. For the
next hour I drove up and down the _Champs Elysêes_. I only hope the
driver enjoyed it more than I did. At last, when pneumonia seemed very
near, I told him to drive to the hotel.
"I fairly whipped through the hall and into the lift. As this
ascended, a page arrived at the gate and spoke upward. I didn't hear
what he said.
"When I was in a hot bath, the telephone went. I let the swine ring.
Finally somebody came and knocked at the door. Of my wisdom I hadn't
bolted it, so, after waiting a little, they entered. I lay in the bath
like the dead. After a good look round, they went away....
"By twenty past four I'd dressed, and repacked the case. I rang for a
porter, told him to shove it on a taxi, and descended to settle my
bill. Mercifully, the clerk who had stopped me in the morning was off
duty. I could have squealed with delight. I paid my reckoning, tipped
about eight people I'd never seen before, and climbed into the cab.
Ten minutes later I was at the _Quai d'Orsay_.
"By the time I was in the wagon lit it was ten minutes to five....
"I sank down upon the seat in silent gratitude. The comfortable glow
of salvation began to steal over my limbs. I looked benevolently about
me. I reflected that, after all, the last thirty hours of my life had
been rich with valuable experience. Smilingly I decided not to regret
them. When I thought of the scene in the baggage-room, I actually
laughed. Then the conductor put his head in at the door and said that
there was somebody to see me from the _Gare du Nord_."
Berry suspended his recital and buried his face in his hands.
"I shall never be the same again," he said brokenly. "Never again. Up
to then I had a chance--a sporting chance of recovery. At that moment
it snapped. In a blinding flash I saw what a fool I'd been. If I'd
only stayed on the platform, if I'd only gone into the restaurant car,
if I'd only locked myself in a lavatory till the train had started, I
should have been all right. As it was, I was caught--bending.
"It was the official I'd seen in the morning all right. After a
preliminary flurry of ejaculation, he locked the door behind him and
began to talk.... Don't ask me what he said, because I didn't hear.
When the rope's round your neck, you're apt to miss the subtleties of
the hangman's charge. After a time I realised that he was asking me a
question. I stared at him dully and shook my head. With a gesture of
despair, he glanced at his watch.
"'_Monsieur_,' he said, 'the train departs. I have sought you all day.
The superintendent has told me to speak with you at all costs--to beg
that you will lodge no complaint. He is desolated that your baggage
was injured. It is a misfortune frightful. He cannot think how it has
occurred. But to complain--no. I will tell _Monsieur_ the truth.
Twice in the last half-year an English officer's baggage has gone
astray. But one more complaint from your Embassy, and the
superintendent will be replaced. And in ten short days, _Monsieur_, he
will have won his pension.... Ah, _Monsieur_, be merciful.'
"I was merciful.
"I waved the fellow away and swore haltingly that I would say nothing.
We mingled a few tears, and he got out as the train was moving....
"And there you are. I'd got my reprieve. Everything in the garden was
lovely. But I couldn't enjoy it. My spirits failed to respond." He
took the Sealyham's head between his hands and gazed into his eyes.
"O Nobwell, Nob-well!
Had I but seen the fool at half-past eight
As he desired, he would not in the train
Have put the wind up me so hellishly."
There was a moment's silence.
Then Jonah stepped to my brother-in-law and clapped him on the back.
"Brother," he said, "I take my hat off. I tell you frankly I couldn't
have done it. I wouldn't have claimed that case at Paris for a
thousand pounds."
Clamorously we endorsed his approval.
By way of acknowledgment the hero groaned.
"What you want," said I, "is a good night's rest. By mid-day to-morrow
you'll be touching the ground in spots."
"I shan't be touching it at all," said Berry. "If it's nice and warm,
I shall have a Bath chair, which you and Jonah will propel at a
convenient pace. Nobby will sit at my feet as a hostage against your
careless negotiation of gradients." He drew a key from his pocket and
pitched it on to a table. "I fancy," he added, "I heard them put the
case on the landing: and as I propose, decorative though it is, to
remove my beard, perhaps one of you wasters will fetch me a cigarette."
There was a rush for the door.
True enough, the uniform-case was outside.
Jonah and I had its cords off in twenty seconds.
One hinge was broken and some khaki was protruding.
Adèle thrust the key into the lock. This was too stiff for her
fingers, so after a desperate struggle, she let me have at the wards....
After an exhausting two minutes we sent for a cold-chisel....
As the lock yielded, Berry appeared upon the scene.
For a moment he stared at us. Then--
"But why not gun-cotton?" he inquired. "That's the stuff to open a
broken box with, if you don't like the look of the key. You know,
you're thwarting me. And don't try to turn the lid back, because there
aren't any hin----"
The sentence was never finished.
As I lifted the lid, my brother-in-law fell upon his knees. With
trembling hands he plucked at a Jaeger rug, reposing, carefully folded,
upon the top of some underclothes. Then he threw back his head and
took himself by the throat.
"Goats and monkeys!" he shrieked. "_It's somebody else's case!_"
* * * * *
When, twenty-four hours later, a letter arrived from Piers' aunt,
inviting us all to tea, we accepted, not because we felt inclined to go
junketing, but because we did not wish to seem rude.
We were in a peevish mood. For this the loss of our forbidden fruit
was indirectly responsible. The immediate cause of our ill-humour was
the exasperating reflection that we were debarred from taking even
those simple steps which lead to the restoration of lost luggage. We
stood in the shoes of a burglar who has been robbed of his spoils. As
like as not, our precious uniform-case was lying at the station,
waiting to be claimed. Yet we dared not inquire, because of what our
inquiries might bring forth. Of course the authorities might be
totally ignorant of its contents. But then, again, they might not. It
was a risk we could not take. The chance that, by identifying our
property, we might be at once accusing and convicting ourselves of
smuggling a very large quantity of tobacco, was too considerable.
There were moments when Jonah and I, goaded to desperation, felt ready
to risk penal servitude and 'have a dart' at the bait. But Berry would
not permit us. If things went wrong, he declared, he was bound to be
involved--hideously. And he'd had enough of thin ice. The wonder was,
his hair wasn't white.... By the time we had swung him round, our own
courage had evaporated.
As for Piers, no one of us had seen or heard from him for five whole
days. Ever since his extraordinary outburst upon the verandah, the boy
had made himself scarce. While we were all perplexed, Jill took his
absence to heart. She mourned openly. She missed her playfellow
bitterly, and said as much. And when three days had gone by and the
last post had brought no word of him, she burst into tears. The next
morning there were rings beneath her great grey eyes. She was far too
artless to pretend that she did not care. Such a course of action
never occurred to her. She had no idea, of course, that she was in
love.
All the same, when upon Wednesday afternoon the cars were waiting to
take us to tea with Mrs. Waterbrook, my cousin leaned over the
banisters with a bright red spot upon either cheek.
"I say," she cried, "I'm not coming."
One and all, we stared up amazedly.
"Not coming?" cried Daphne. "But, darling----"
Jill stamped her small foot.
"N-no," she said shakily. "I'm not. And--and, if he asks after me,
say I'm awfully well, but I felt I wanted a walk. I'm going to take
Nobby out."
Her skirts whirled, and she was gone.
Adèle flew after her, while the rest of us stood whispering in the
hall. Five minutes later the two descended together. But while we
others climbed into the cars, Jill twitched a lead from the rack and
took her stand upon the steps, with Nobby leaping for joy about her
sides. And when she cried "Good-bye," there was a ring in her tone
which sounded too glad to be true.
Mrs. Waterbrook was perfectly charming.
As we were ushered into a really beautiful salon, she rose from a
little bureau--a tall, graceful figure, with masses of pretty grey hair
and warm brown eyes.
"My dear," she said to Daphne, "what a beautiful creature you are!" She
turned to Adèle. "As for you, if I were your husband, I'm afraid I
should have a swelled head. Which is he? Ah, I see by the light in
his eyes.... Of course, I ought to have called upon you, but I'm lazy
by nature, and my car won't be here till to-morrow. And now I must
thank you for being so kind to Piers. He ought to be here, of course.
But where he is, I don't know. I've hardly seen him since I arrived.
He seems to be crazy about his uncomfortable car. Went to Bordeaux and
back yesterday--three hundred miles, if you please. I feel weak when I
think of it. And now please tell me about yourselves. Beyond that
you're all delightful, I've heard nothing from him."
I would not have believed that one woman could entertain five strangers
with such outstanding success. Within five minutes Jonah and Daphne
were by her side upon the sofa, Adèle was upon the hearth at their
feet. Berry was leaning against the mantelpiece, and I was sitting
upon the arm of an adjacent chair, describing our meeting with Piers a
fortnight ago.
"I don't know his age," I concluded. "I take it he's about nineteen.
But he's got the airs and graces of Peter Pan."
"Piers," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "is twenty-five. His mother was my
sister. She married his father when she was seventeen. He was twenty
years older than she, but they were awfully happy. The blood's pure
English, although the title's Italian. The fief of the duchy goes with
it. They were given to Piers' great-grandfather--he was a
diplomat--for services rendered. A recent attempt to dispossess the
boy mercifully failed." She looked round about her. "By the way, I
thought there were six of you. Piers gave me the number, but neither
gender nor anything else."
"There's a female to come," said Berry. "But I don't think she will
to-day. She's a wayward child. We'll send her round to apologise
to-morrow."
Here coffee and chocolate were served.
"I must apologise," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "for giving you no tea. But
there you are." She sighed. "What tea you can get in France reminds
me of grocer's port. I won't touch it myself, and I haven't the face
to offer it to my guests. I usually bring some from England; but I--I
didn't this time." She passed a hand across her eyes, as though to
brush away a memory. "After all, you needn't come again, need you?"
"But we do the same," said Daphne. "We've given up tea. Up to last
week, I clung to a cup before breakfast. But now I've stopped it."
"Yes," said Berry. "It was affecting her brain. Ten minutes after
she'd swallowed it, she used to begin to wonder why she married me."
"I believe you," said Mrs. Waterbrook. "You can't drink French tea and
be resigned. Now, a cup of well-made chocolate affords relief."
Before Berry could reply, she had pointed to an old china box and said
that it contained cigarettes.
If she had said that it was full of black pearls, she could not have
created more excitement. Besides, there was a confidence in her tone
that set my nerves tingling. It was, I felt sure, no "grocer's port"
that she was commending. And I--we, with the exception of Berry, had
not smoked a good cigarette for nearly six weeks....
As Jonah handed the box to Daphne, I strove to look unconcerned.
"And if anybody likes cigars," added Mrs. Waterbrook, "there are some
in that silver box by Major Pleydell."
Berry started, said, "Oh--er--thanks very much," and opened the box.
Then he took out a cigar, idly enough.
I became conscious that Daphne's and Adèle's eyes were upon me as Jonah
brought me the cigarettes. I took one without looking, and stared
back. Instantly their eyes shifted to the cigarette in my hand. I
followed their gaze, to behold one of the brand which I had smoked
invariably for seven years.
Dazedly I looked across at Berry, to see him regarding his cigar with
bulging eyes....
As in a dream, I heard Jonah's voice.
"You must forgive my cousins. They're not being rude. To tell you the
truth, we've recently had a bereavement. A particularly cherished
friend, who was to furnish us all with tobacco for several months,
disappeared in sickening circumstances only two days ago. The cigar
and the cigarette have revived some painful memories."
Our hostess opened and closed her mouth before replying.
Then--
"What," she said faintly, "what was your--er--cherished friend like?"
Berry started to his feet.
"Both hinges gone," he shouted, "tied up with rope--reeking of
pepper----"
Mrs. Waterbrook interrupted him with a shriek.
"He's outside my bedroom," she wailed. "By the side of the tall-boy.
I suppose it's too much to hope that you've got my tea."
"Tea?" we screamed.
"Tea," piped our hostess. "Beautiful China tea. Thirty-five pounds of
it. Under the camisoles."
Berry raised his eyes to heaven.
"Modesty forbade us," he said, "to go further than the b-b-b-bust
b-b-b-bodices."
* * * * *
It was in the midst of our rejoicing that Piers set foot on the
verandah. For a moment he stood staring, pardonably bewildered, at the
two smugglers, who were saluting one another respectively with a
profound curtsey and the most elaborate of bows. Then he pulled open
the great window and stepped hesitatingly into the room.
As he did so, the door was flung open, and a man-servant appeared.
"Mees Mansel," he announced.
Nobby entered anyhow, pleasedly lugging Jill into the room.
"Why, Jill!" cried Daphne. "My dear.... Mrs. Waterbrook, let me
introduce----"
"_But that's not Miss Mansel!_"
It was Piers' voice.
With one accord we turned, staring....
With arm outstretched, the boy was pointing at Jill.
For a moment nobody moved.
Then Piers sprang forward and caught Jill's hands in his.
"Jill!" he panted. "Jill, you're not Miss Mansel?"
"Yes, I am," said Jill steadily.
"But I thought you were married to Boy. I thought--I thought Adèle was
Miss Mansel."
"Oh, Piers," said Jill reproachfully. "And she's got a wedding-ring
on."
Piers stared at Jill's hand.
"I--I never thought of that," he said slowly. "I am silly." A
wonderful smile came tearing to light his face. "But oh, Jill," he
faltered, "I--am--so--awfully--glad!"
Never, I fancy, was love so simply declared.
For a moment Jill looked at him. Then her eyes fell, and an exquisite
blush came stealing into her cheeks.
For an instant Piers hesitated. Then he let fall her fingers and
turned about, flushing furiously....
Before he had found his tongue, my cousin advanced to her hostess and
put out her hand.
"I'm afraid I'm awfully late," she said quietly.
Mrs. Waterbrook stooped and kissed her.
"My darling," she said softly, "it was worth waiting for."