HOW ADÈLE BOUGHT A BOTTLE OF PERFUME WHICH HAD NO SMELL, AND I CUT
EULALIE DEAD
"I must have a paper," said Berry. "I haven't read the news for
fifty-five hours, and--and anything may have happened. Supposing the
rouble and the shilling have changed over. The tie I'm wearing 'ld be
worth about six hundred pounds."
I set down my cup and picked up the receiver.
"So you're really off to-morrow, are you?" said an attractive voice.
_Well, don't miss Fuenterrabia. It's only five miles out of your way,
and it's worth seeing. They sell most lovely scent in the Calle del
Puerto. Ask for their 'Red Violets.'_
With a chunk I was disconnected, and a second later a bureau clerk had
promised to procure an English paper and send it up to my room.
Less than an hour ago we had arrived at San Sebastian--according to
plan. A very handsome run had ended becomingly enough in the drive of
a palatial hotel, and, though it was growing dusk as we had slipped
into the town, we had seen quite enough of our surroundings to
appreciate that, where Nature had succeeded so admirably, man had by no
means failed.
And now we were taking tea in my sister's bedroom and discussing what
Berry called "the order of going in."
"We'd better decide right away," said my brother-in-law, "to stay here
a week. It's perfectly obvious that two nights are going to be no
earthly."
"All you're thinking of," said Daphne, "is the Casino. I knew it would
be like this."
"All right," replied her husband; "look at the guide-book. We haven't
seen this place yet, and there are twelve excursions--all highly
recommended. We can cut out Tolosa, because I see we did that this
afternoon. That was where the child lobbed the jam-tin into the car.
I fancy I passed the cathedral when I was chasing him. Any way, I
shall say so."
"I am told," said I, "that Fuenterrabia's worth seeing."
"It's the show place about here," said Jonah. "Old as the hills.
That'll take a morning alone."
I yawned.
"There's a shop there," I said, "in the Calle del Puerto, where they
sell some wonderful scent. I believe it's all good, but their 'Red
Violets' is simply ravishing."
The girls pricked up their ears.
"Who told you all this?" said Adèle.
"I can't imagine," said I truthfully. "But she had a nice voice. You
know--one of those soft mellifluous ones, suggesting that she's bored
to distraction with everything except you." I took out a cigarette and
looked about me. "Anyone got a match?" I added.
"Blow the matches," said my sister. "When did all this happen?"
"This afternoon," said I. "I'd always heard that San Sebastian----"
"Is she staying here?" said Adèle.
"In the hotel? She didn't say."
"But how did you come to speak to her?" demanded my wife.
"I didn't," I said. "She spoke to me. I tell you I've always heard
that San----"
"And you communed with her?" said Berry. "With your lawful wife
working herself to death on the first floor unpacking your sponge-bag,
you exchanged secrets of the toilet with a honey-toned vamp? Oh, you
vicious libertine.... Will she be at the Casino to-night?"
"I didn't ask her."
Berry raised his eyes to heaven.
"You don't know her name; you never asked where she's staying, and
you've fixed nothing up." He sighed heavily. "Some people don't
deserve to get on."
"I hadn't time," I pleaded. "We got on to scent almost at once."
"Why scent?" said Jonah. "Or is that an indiscreet question?"
"Oh, that's easy," said Berry. "The scent was on the handkerchief he
picked up. It's been done before."
"I don't understand," said Jill.
"I'm glad you don't, darling. One expert in the family is bad enough."
He nodded at me. "I used to think I was useful, till I'd seen that
Mormon at work. Talk about getting off.... Why, he'd click at a
jumble sale."
"Would he really?" said Adèle interestedly. "I'd no idea he was so
enterprising."
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"My dear," he said, "he's a blinkin' marvel. Where you and I 'ld be
standing outside a stage-door with a nervous grin and a bag of jujubes,
he'd walk straight up TO a Marchioness, say, 'I feel I must tell you
that you've got a mouth in a million,' and--_get away with it_. But
there you are. In the present case----"
"--for once in a way," said Adèle, "the lady seems to have made the
running." She turned to me with a smile. "Well, Juan me lad, tell us
some more about her. Was she fair or dark?"
I nodded at Berry.
"Better ask him," I said. "He knows more about it than I do."
"She was dark," said Berry unhesitatingly. "A tall willowy wench, with
Continental eyes and an everlasting pout. Am I right, sir?"
"You may be," said I. "Not having seen the damsel...."
There was an outburst of incredulous objection.
"Sorry," I added, "but the liaison was conducted upon the telephone.
Just now. When I ordered the paper. The lady had no idea she was
giving me counsel. So, you see, we're both blameless. And now may I
have a match?"
"Well, I am disappointed," announced Adèle. "I quite thought we were
off."
"So did I," said Daphne. "And you never even---- Oh, it's spoiled my
tea."
Even Jill protested that I had "led them on."
In some dudgeon, I began to wonder if I should ever understand women.
* * * * *
An hour and a half had slipped by.
Ready for dinner with twenty minutes to spare, I had descended to the
lounge. There a large writing-table had suggested the propriety of
sending a postcard to the sweetest of aunts, who, in the absence of
evidence to the contrary, invariably presumed our death after fourteen
days.
There being no postcards available, I started a letter....
For a page and a half my pen ran easily enough, and then, for no reason
whatever, my epistolary sense faltered, laboured, and ceased to
function.
I re-read what I had written, touched up the punctuation, and fingered
my chin. I reviewed the past, I contemplated the future, I regarded my
finger-nails--all to no effect. There was simply nothing to say.
Finally I rose and went in search of a waiter. There was, I felt, a
chance that a Martini might stimulate my brain....
I returned to my seat to find that, while I had been gone, a heifer
from another herd had come to drink at the pool.
Immediately upon the opposite side of the writing-table sat one of the
prettiest women that I have ever seen. Her colouring was superb.
Beneath a snow-white skin all the wild beauty of a mountain-rose glowed
in her cheeks; each time she moved, a flashing mystery of red and
golden lights blazed from the auburn crown piled on her head; stars
danced an invitation in the great grey eyes. Her small straight nose,
the exquisite line of her face, her fairy mouth alone would have
redeemed the meanest countenance. A plain black velvet dress, cut
rather high at the throat, but leaving her lovely arms bare from the
shoulder, and a complete absence of jewellery, showed that my lady knew
how pictures should be framed....
With an effort I bent to my letter. From being difficult, however, the
composition of another two pages of coherent prose had become
formidable. Turning to the past, I could remember nothing. Looking
into the future, I found myself blind. As for the present, I felt
instinctively that a description of the curve of my _vis-à-vis'_ mouth
would be out of place and might be misunderstood.
I observed suddenly that my lady had stopped writing.
After a moment she read over what she had written and put in two
commas. Then she put a dash at the end of her last sentence. Such an
addition had not occurred to me. For what it was worth, I adopted it
surreptitiously. When I looked up, the tips of four pointed fingers
were being regarded with some severity. Finally the girl laid down her
pen, and, propping her chin on two ridiculous fists, stared dismally
upon the neutral zone between our respective blotting pads.
"Have you dealt with the weather?" said I.
The stars, which had stopped dancing, leaped again into life.
"Fully," she said.
"And the place?"
She nodded.
"And the people staying in the hotel?"
"I've just said they're all very dull."
I wrote rapidly. Then--
"'The people here,'" I read, "'are nearly all very dull.'"
For a moment she looked at me. Then she picked up her pen.
"How," she demanded, with a dazzling smile, "do you spell 'nearly'?"
"Only one 'r'," I replied. "Same as 'adorable.'"
'Nearly' went down--rather shakily.
I pulled up my cuffs.
"'Spanish furniture,'" I said, following my pen, "'is like the
Spanish--on the large side. Everything is too big.'"
"'--too big,'" said my lady, with her head on one side. "You see, my
confidence in you is supreme."
"One moment," said I. "There's only one 'w' in 'sweet,' isn't there?"
"Yes," she said, bubbling. "Same as 'awful.'"
I cleared my throat.
"'The table, for instance,'" I continued, "'at which we--I am writing,
is simply huge. If it were only half as wide, it would be much
more--er--convenient.'"
The two white shoulders began to shake with laughter.
I thought very swiftly. Then--
"New paragraph," I said.
"Half a page more," breathed my companion.
I frowned.
"'They have,'" I announced, "'quite a good Casino here.'"
Our two pens recorded the statement.
"'The great thing to do is to go there after dinner.'"
The custom was reported in duplicate.
"'But I'm not going to-night,'" said the girl, "'because----'"
"But----"
"'--I've got to do my packing.'"
I groaned. Then--
"'But I shan't go to-night,'" I declared, "'because I'm going to help a
friend pack.'" I looked up cheerfully. "Yes?"
"'I shall look forward," she said, smiling, "'to seeing you again--some
time.'"
"'Soon.'"
The pretty head went to one side.
"'With my love,'" she said quietly.
"'Your devoted servant,'" said I.
For a second my lady hesitated. Then she signed a name, crammed her
letter into an envelope, and rose to her feet.
The stars in the wonderful eyes had become misty, and there was a
strange wistful curve to the exquisite lips.
For an instant we looked at one another. Then--
"Just 'Eulalie,'" she said.
The next moment she was gone.
I turned to see Daphne, Adèle, and Berry a dozen paces away....
I advanced with what composure I could summon.
"I have been endeavouring," I said, "to atone for this afternoon."
There was a frosty silence. Then--
"So I see," said my sister icily.
Berry passed a hand across his eyes.
"Ugh!" he said shuddering. "I've gone all goosegogs--I mean,
gooseflesh. Will she be at the Casino to-night?"
My wife set a hand upon my arm.
"I must admit," she said, smiling, "that she had a mouth in a million."
* * * * *
By half-past ten the next morning we were again upon the road.
The almanack swore it was March, but here was a summer's day. Not a
cloud was floating in the great blue sky: down to the tenderest breeze,
the winds were sleeping: the sun was in all his glory. For earth
herself, the stains of winter were being done away. Out of the
country's coat the greys and browns, lately so prominent, were fading
notably. As thick as fast, the green was coming in. As we rounded a
bend and sailed down a long sweet hill towards the frontier, the road
was all dappled with the shadows of youngster leaves.
Our way seemed popular. Car after car swept by, waggons and lorries
went rumbling about their business, now and again two of the Guardia
Civil--well-horsed, conspicuously armed and point-device in their
accoutrements--sat stiff, silent, and vigilant in the mouth of an odd
by-road.
Come to the skirts of Irun, we switched to the left, and five minutes
later we were at Fuenterrabia.
A city with a main street some four yards wide, keeping a king's
palace, if hatchments be evidence, remembering more dukes than
shopkeepers, its house-walls upholding a haphazard host of balconies
and overhung with monstrous eaves--a pocket stronghold, set on the lip
of Spain, staring at sea and land, each sunlit rood of which is fat
with History--a lovely star upon the breast of Fame, chosen by English
poets to enrich their songs, Fuenterrabia is among the crown jewels of
Europe.
We thrust up the Calle Mayor and into the Plaza de Armas. There we put
the cars in the shade and alighted eagerly to view the town at close
quarters.
"Look at that little boy," cried Jill, "eating an apple. Where's the
camera? Get him to stand in the sun, Boy, against that old wall."
"That's right," said Berry. "And there's a dog scratching himself.
Ask him to devil his tenants beside the Post Office. If we get a good
picture, we can call it _Local Affection, or The Old, Old Story_ and
send it to _The Field_."
To humour my cousin's whim, I approached a dirty-looking child....
Despite my assurances of good-will, however, the urchin retired as I
advanced, all the time consuming his apple with a nervous energy, which
suggested at once a conviction that I had my eye upon his fruit and a
determination to confound my strategy. The apple was dwindling fast,
and, redoubling my protests, I quickened my pace. For a second the boy
hesitated. Then he took two last devastating bites, flung the core in
my face, and took to his heels.
Pursuit being out of the question, I returned furiously to the others,
to find them, as was to be expected, quite weak with laughter.
"It w-was good of you, Boy," declared Jill, tearfully. "And I got such
a precious picture--just as he threw it."
"I suppose you know," I said stiffly, "that he hit me upon the nose."
"There must," said Berry, "have been some misunderstanding. The
Spaniard's courtesy is proverbial. You're sure you weren't rude to
him, brother?"
"Certain," said I grimly.
"Dear, dear," said my brother-in-law, opening a guide-book. "It's most
mysterious. Just listen to this. _The stranger is at first apt to be
carried away by the obliging tone of society, by the charming
spontaneity of manner, and by the somewhat exaggerated politeness of
the people he meets_. There now. Were you carried away at all? I
mean, if you were----"
"I was not," said I.
Berry returned to the book.
"_He should return these civilities in kind, but he should avoid
turning the conversation on serious matters, and should, above all,
refrain from expressing an opinion on religious or political
questions_. I do hope you didn't...."
I shook my head.
"Then," said Berry, "should we meet the child again, I shall cut him
dead. And that's that. And now let's go and find a dairy. You'll be
wanting a pick-me-up."
For an hour and a half we went about the city. We marked her bulwarks,
we told her towers, we observed her mansions, we strolled upon her
terraces, we enjoyed her prospects.
Last of all, we visited the Calle del Puerto. Before we had taken a
dozen paces along the aged alley, a faint odour of perfume began to
assert itself, and a few seconds later we were standing before a tiny
shop, scrupulously sweet and clean to look upon, absurdly suggestive of
the patronage of marionettes. A curtain of apple-green canvas was
swaying in the low doorway, while an awning of the same stuff guarded a
peepshow window, which was barely three feet long and less than one
foot high. Herein, ranged behind a slab of fine plate-glass, stood
three plain, stoppered phials, one rose-coloured, one green, and one a
faint yellow. Below, on a grey silk pillow, was set a small
vellum-bound book. This was open. In capitals of gold upon the pages
displayed were two words only--PARFUMS FRANÇAIS.
The effect was charming.
We gathered about the window, ejaculating surprise.
"_Urbs in rure_," said Jonah. "And then you're wrong. The Rue de la
Paix isn't in it."
Which is a description I cannot better.
Daphne lifted the _portière_, and we followed her in.
Passing suddenly out of the brilliant sunshine, we could at first see
nothing. Then gradually the interior of the shop took shape.
There was no counter, but an oblong mahogany glass-topped table,
standing in the centre of the polished floor, evidently was discharging
that office. Upon this stood three other phials, similar to those
displayed in the window, but fitted with sprays instead of stoppers.
In front of each a grey gold-lettered slip of silk, laid between the
glass and the mahogany, declared its contents--ROSE BLEUE ... LYS NOIR
... JASMIN GRIS.
The room was very low, and the walls were panelled. Upon these, except
for that framing the door and window, were rows of shelves. On these,
at decent intervals, stood phials of four different sizes. To judge
from the colour of their glass, each wall was devoted to one of the
three scents. That facing us was green, that on our left
rose-coloured, that upon our right a faint yellow. A black curtain in
a corner suggested a doorway leading to another part of the house. The
air, naturally enough, was full of perfume.
We stared about us in silence.
After waiting perhaps five minutes, peering unsuccessfully behind the
curtain, raising our voices in talk, and finally rapping upon the table
without attracting attendance, we decided to return to where we had
left the cars and visit the shop again on our way out of the town.
As we came to the Plaza, the clock of the great church announced the
hour. A quarter to one.
"Good Heavens!" cried Daphne, checking the time by her wrist-watch.
"I'd no idea it was so late. And I left word for Evelyn to ring me up
at the hotel at one o'clock." We made a rush for the cars. "Can it be
done, Jonah?"
"Only by air," said my cousin. "Outside a track, thirteen miles in
fourteen minutes is just a shade too thick; Still, there's nothing the
matter with the road after Irun, and Evelyn may be delayed getting
through."
He swung himself into Ping and started her up. My sister and Jill
scrambled aboard while he was turning her round. As he headed for the
Calle Mayor--
"Stop!" shrieked his sister. "The scent, Jonah, the scent. We've got
to go back."
Jonah threw out the clutch.
"We'll get that!" cried Adèle. "You go on, and we'll follow."
"Right."
The next moment Ping had dropped out of sight.
It was perhaps five minutes later that, after conjuring Berry to stay
where he was and move the car for nobody, I assisted my wife on to the
pavement.
When Fuenterrabia was planned, an eleven-feet-six wheel-base was not
considered. To wheedle Pong to the mouth of the Calle del Puerto had
been a ticklish business, and I had berthed her deliberately with an
eye to our departure for the city gate, rather than to the convenience
of such other vehicles as might appear. Besides, for my brother-in-law
to have essayed manoeuvres in such surroundings would have been asking
for trouble.
As Adèle and I hastened along the street--
"We must look sharp," I insisted. "She's half across the fairway. If
anybody with anything broader than a mule feels they can't wait,
there'll be murder done."
We came to the shop, panting....
The place was just as we had left it, and--there was no one there.
I looked round impatiently.
"What on earth," I began, "is the good of a----"
As I spoke, the curtain in the corner was pushed to one side, and a
French girl entered the room.
Her manner was most curious.
For a moment she hesitated, as though she would turn and fly. Then,
with her eyes upon Adèle, she moved slowly forward. She seemed to be
making an effort to come and serve us. That she was most apprehensive
was perfectly plain....
Half-way between curtain and table she stopped. Then she put a hand to
her throat.
"_Madame_ desires something?"
"Some scent, please," said Adèle reassuringly.
Her cheerful tone appeared to encourage the girl. And when my wife
pointed to the green phial and asked to be sprayed with its contents, I
could have sworn her attitude was that of relief.
In a flash she had produced a small square of linen. This she handed
to Adèle.
"Smell, _Madame_. See, it is scentless. _Pardon_." She sprayed it
with scent. "_Voilà_. That is the 'Black Lily.'"
Adèle passed it to me. The scent was exquisite.
"It's delicious," said Adèle.
"Yes, _Madame_, it is good. Will _Madame_ sample the others?"
"If you please."
Fresh squares of linen were produced, offered for inspection, and
sprayed....
Each perfume seemed more ravishing than its predecessor. To test the
worth of this impression, we reverted to the 'Black Lily.' One breath
of this satisfied us that it was the best of the lot. To be quite
sure, we smelt the 'Blue Rose,' and were instantly convinced of its
superiority to its fellows. A return to the 'Grey Jasmine' persuaded
us that there was only one scent in the shop. It was, indeed,
impossible to award the palm. Each perfume had some irresistible
virtue which the others lacked.
When, at last, Adèle implored me to help her to a decision, I spoke to
the point.
"There's only one thing to do. We can't wait now, so have a big bottle
of each. Then you and Jill and Daphne can fight it out at home."
Adèle asked the price of the scents.
"They are all the same price, _Madame_. The large bottle, one hundred
_pesetas_--the others, seventy, fifty, and thirty, according to size."
"Very well. I'll take a large bottle of each."
"Thank you, _Madame_."
A prolonged and vicious croak from the end of the street argued that
Berry's patience was wearing thin, but to have asked the girl to make
haste would have been supererogatory.
In a trice three phials had been taken down from their shelves, and
three stout silk-lined cases, of the pattern of safety-match boxes, had
been produced. The phial went into its tray, the tray into its sheath,
the case complete into a sheet of rough grey paper, and the whole was
girt with cord in next to no time.
As the last knot was being tied Adèle touched me upon the arm.
"I almost forgot," she said. Then she turned to the girl. "I have
been told to ask for your 'Red Violets.'"
The scissors the girl was using fell to the floor. As she recovered
them--
"Certainly, _Madame_," she whispered, laying a trembling hand upon the
curtain behind.
She disappeared, to reappear almost immediately with a package
precisely similar to those she had just made up. She placed it with
the others.
"Oh," said Adèle, "but you haven't----"
A perfect hurricane of croaks, mingled with cries of anger, interrupted
her.
"Never mind," I cried, gathering up the parcels. "How much is it now?
Four hundred, I suppose."
As I was counting the notes, a yell of anguish in Berry's unmistakable
accents fell upon my ears.
I threw the money upon the table and bolted out of the shop with Adèle
at my heels....
As we came to the corner, I ran full tilt into--Eulalie. For an
instant our eyes met, but she looked away pointedly, slipped to one
side, and passed on....
Then--
"_Obstàculos_ to you, sir!" roared Berry. "Look at my wing.... Yes, I
see the cabriolet. But what of that? It's perfectly happy.... No, it
_didn't_ want to get by. And if it had---- Oh, go and push yourself
off somewhere." Here he caught sight of me. "See what this greasy
pantaloon's done? I told him he hadn't room, but he wouldn't wait.
And now he's shoving it on to that cabriolet.... Oh, why can't I speak
Spanish? I'd give him earache."
I thrust our packages into the fold of the hood and ran to examine the
wing. Happily the damage was slight. I announced this relievedly.
"I daresay it is," raged Berry, as we resumed our seats. "What I
object to is the poisonous hostility of the brute. He blinkin' well
meant to do it."
"Dear, dear," said Adèle, bubbling. "There must have been some
misunderstanding. The Spaniard's courtesy is proverbial."
"Exactly," said I. "The stranger is at first apt to be carried away by
the exaggerated politeness of the----"
"You may be," said Berry, "as blasphemous as you like, but, for the
love of the home for little children, let's get out of this town."
I let in the clutch....
We were passing out of the beautiful armoried gateway, when an
approaching peasant signalled to us to stop, and pointed excitedly back
the way we had come. The fellow's manner suggested that we had dropped
something.
I pulled up the car, opened my door, and jumped out.
As I did so, a breathless Eulalie appeared upon the other side of the
car.
"I never thought I should catch you," she said uncertainly. "My car
got mixed up with that waggon, so I chanced it and ran. And, now I'm
here, I hardly know how to tell you...." She addressed herself to
Adèle. "But I fancy you've got my scent--'Red Violets.' It's
rather--rather special. They only make it by request. And a friend of
mine had ordered a bottle for me. It was put ready for me to call for,
and, as far as I can make out, they've given it to you by mistake.
I'm--I'm afraid I'm asking an awful lot, but might I have it? I'm
leaving Spain altogether in half an hour, so I shan't have another
chance."
I never remember feeling so utterly disillusioned. Recalling the
telephone conversation of the day before, I was frankly disgusted.
Such sharp practice as this smacked of a bargain sale.
The scent was ours. We had bought it fairly. Besides, it had _not_
been reserved. If either Adèle or Eulalie had to go empty away, Law
and Equity alike were pronouncing in favour of my wife.
Adèle was speaking.
"Oh, certainly. Boy, will you...?" I stepped into the car and thrust
a hand into the fold of the hood. "I shall know which it is. The
paper it's wrapped in is different. There's a line running through it,
and the others were plain." I plucked out a case and gave it to her to
examine. "That's right." Gravely she handed it to Eulalie. "I'm
sorry you had to run so," she added gently.
The other shrugged her shoulders.
"I caught you," she said simply, "and that's the great thing." She
glanced over her shoulder. "And here comes my car. I'm really most
awfully grateful...."
With a swish the cabriolet swept alongside, skidded with locked wheels
upon the pavement, and fetched up anyhow with its bonnet across our
bows. It was a piece of driving for which the chauffeur ought to have
been flogged.
"...most awfully grateful," repeated Eulalie, swinging the case by its
cord. "You--you might have made it much harder...."
The next moment she was in the cabriolet...
Dazedly I watched the latter float out of sight.
"B-but she hasn't paid," I stammered. "She's never given us the money.
Four pounds that bottle cost...."
We stared at one another in dismay.
At length--
"Stung," said Berry. "But what a beautiful bit of work! Four pounds'
worth of scent for the asking. No unpleasantness, no sleight of hand,
no nothing. Just a glad eye last night and a two-minute run this
morning. I don't wonder she was grateful."
* * * * *
We had spent the afternoon traversing San Sebastian, and had found the
place good--so good, in fact, that it was past six before we returned
to the hotel.
I followed Adèle upstairs rather wearily.
"I shall never get over this morning," I said. "Never." Arrived at
our door, I fitted the key to the lock. "To think that I stood there
and let you hand---- Oh, blast! We've left the scent in the car."
"So we have," said Adèle. "What an awful nuisance! I knew we should.
It's fatal to put anything in that hood. You don't see it."
I pushed open the door.
"As soon as I've changed," I said, switching on the light. "I'll go
and----"
The sentence was never finished.
Had I been told that a cyclone had struck our bedroom, I should not
have been surprised.
Adèle and I stood staring at such a state of disorder as I had never
dreamed of.
The bed had been dragged from the wall, and its clothes distributed
about the room; the wardrobe and cupboards stood open: every drawer in
the room was on the floor: our clothing had been flung, like soiled
linen, into corners: my wife's dressing-case had been forced, and now
lay open, face downward, upon the carpet, while its contents sprawled
upon a mattress: a chair had fallen backwards into the empty
cabin-trunk, and the edge of a sheet had caught on one of its upturned
legs....
"Adèle! Boy!" The swish of a skirt, and there was my sister behind
us. "Our room's been---- Good Heavens, yours is the same! Whatever's
the meaning of it?"
Within three minutes two managers and three clerks were on the scene.
To do them justice, they were genuinely perturbed. Fresh rooms--a
magnificent suite--were put at our disposal: under our own eyes our
belongings were gathered into sheets and carried to our new quarters:
maids were summoned and placed at the girls' service: valets were sent
for: the dressing-case was sent to be repaired: we were begged at our
convenience to report whether there were any valuables we could not
find, and over and over again we were assured that the management would
not rest until the thieves were taken: jointly and severally we were
offered profound apologies for so abominable an outrage.
Berry and Jonah, who had been taking the cars to the garage, arrived in
the midst of the removal.
Upon the circumstances being laid before my brother-in-law, he seemed
for some time to be deprived of the power of speech, and it was only
upon being shown the contents of a sheet which had just been conveyed
by two valets into his wife's bedroom that he at last gave tongue.
Drawing a pair of dress trousers from beneath a bath towel, a pair of
brogues, and a box of chocolates, he sobbed aloud.
"You all," he said brokenly, "do know these trousers: I remember the
first time ever I did put them on; 'twas on a summer's evening, in the
Park...."
With one accord and some asperity my sister and I requested him to
desist.
"All right," he said. "But why worry? I know there's nothing valuable
gone, because in that case I should have been told long ago. We've
been shocked and inconvenienced, of course; but, to balance it, we've
got a topping suite, a private sitting-room thrown in, and a whole
fleet of bottle-washers in attendance, all stamping to wash and iron
and brush our clothes as they've never been brushed before. Jonah's
and Jill's rooms all right?"
"Yes."
"Well, let them move along, any way. Then we shall all be together.
And now, if we've got any sense, we shall let this sympathetic crowd
straighten up everything--they're simply bursting for the word
'Go!'--and gather round the fire, which I see they've lighted, and talk
about something else."
This was sound advice.
A close acquaintance with crime--the feeling that a robber has handled
her personal effects, mauled her apparel, trodden her own sanctuary--is
bound to jangle a sensitive woman's nerves. The less the girls thought
upon the matter, the better for them....
Orders were given, a sofa was drawn towards the hearth, Jonah went to
seek some champagne, and I slipped on a coat and left the hotel for the
garage.
When I returned some twenty minutes later, Adèle had discovered a piano
and was playing "Whispering," while the others were dancing with as
much freedom from care as they might have displayed at a night-club.
When I laid the scent on the table, the dance died, and Daphne, Adèle,
and Jill crowded about me.
"One for each of you," I said. "With my love. But wait one moment."
I turned to Adèle. "How did you tell the 'Red Violets' from the
others?"
"It's paper had a line----"
I pointed to the three parcels.
"So have they all," I said. "It depends on the way the light strikes
it. One moment you see it, and the next you can't."
My wife examined the packages in turn.
"You're perfectly right," she said. Then, "Good Heavens!" she cried.
"Perhaps I gave that woman the wrong one, after all."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I don't suppose she cared. What's in a name? They're each of them
worth four pounds."
"That's true," said Adèle musingly. "Still...."
We opened them one by one.
The first was the Black Lily.
Then came the Grey Jasmine.
I ripped the paper off the third case and laid it upon the table.
With my fingers about the cardboard, I paused.
"And what," said I, "is the betting?"
"Blue Rose," cried Jill.
"Red Violets," said Adèle.
I opened the case.
They were both wrong.
The tray contained no perfume at all.
Crammed into the form of a scent-bottle was a dirty huddle of
wash-leather.
I lifted it out between my finger and thumb.
The diamond and emerald necklace which lay beneath must have been worth
a quarter of a million.
* * * * *
"Yes," said the British Vice-Consul, some two hours later, "this little
seaside town is a sort of Thieves' Parlour. Four-fifths of the stuff
that's stolen in Spain goes out of the country this way. As in the
present case, the actual thief daren't try to cross the frontier, but
he's always got an accomplice waiting at San Sebastian. We know the
thieves all right--at least, the police do, but the accomplices are the
devil. Often enough, they go no further than Biarritz, and there are
so many of the Smart Set constantly floating between the two towns that
they're frightfully hard to spot. In fact, about the only chance is to
trace their connection with the thief. What I mean is this. A's got
the jewels and he's got to pass them to B. That necessitates some kind
of common denominator. Either they've got to meet or they've got to
visit--at different times, of course--the same bureau....
"Well, there you are.
"By the merest accident you stumbled upon the actual communication of
the password by A to B. The voice you heard upon the telephone was
that of the original thief, or of his representative. This morning you
visited the actual bureau. I know the place well. My wife's bought
scent there. It's always been a bit of a mystery, but I never
suspected this. I've not the slightest doubt it's been used as a
bureau for years. Well, in all innocence you gave the password, and in
all innocence received the gems. B arrives too late, finds that you
have them, and starts in pursuit. I've no doubt she really ran on to
see which way you'd gone. She couldn't have hoped to catch you on
foot. Of course, she couldn't understand how you'd come by the
password, but the few words you'd had with her the night before made
her suspect your innocence. Still, she wasn't sure, and that's why her
chauffeur fetched up across your bows."
"You don't mean----"
"I do indeed. If you hadn't handed them over, they'd have been taken
by force....
"Well, finding that either by accident or design she's been sold a pup,
B communicates with the gang, and, while you're out, your rooms are
ransacked."
"And I walked," I said, "after dark from the Calle de Miracruz to this
hotel with the baubles under my arm."
The Vice-Consul laughed.
"The armour of ignorance," he said, "will sometimes turn the keenest
wits. The confidence it gives its wearer is proverbial."
"But why," said Adèle, "was the shop-girl so terribly nervous? I mean,
if she's used to this sort of traffic...."
The Vice-Consul fingered his chin.
Then he picked up the jewels.
"Perhaps," he said slowly, "perhaps she knew where they came from."
"Where was that?" said Daphne.
The Vice-Consul frowned.
"When I last saw them," he said, "they were in the Royal Treasury."
* * * * *
At half-past ten the next morning I was walking upon the golf links of
St. Jean-de-Luz.
I was not there of choice.
Two very eminent detectives--one French and one Spanish--were upon
either side of me.
We were close to the seventh green, when the Frenchman touched me upon
the arm.
"Look, sir," he said, pointing. "There is a golf party coming. They
are making, no doubt, for this spot. When they arrive, pray approach
and look at them. If you should recognise anyone, I beg that you will
take off your hat."
He bowed, and a moment later I was alone.
I sat down on the turf and took out a cigarette....
With a plop, a golf ball alighted upon the green, trickled a few feet,
and stopped a yard from the hole. Presently, another followed it,
rolled across the turf, and struggled into the rough.
I got upon my feet and strolled towards the green....
It was a mixed foursome.
In a cherry-coloured jumper and a white skirt, Eulalie looked prettier
than ever.
She saw me at once, of course, but she took no notice.
Her companions glanced at me curiously.
Putter in hand, Eulalie walked to her ball--the far one--and turned her
back to me. After a little consideration, she holed out.
It was a match shot, and her companions applauded vigorously.
Eulalie just smiled.
"I'm always better," she said, "when I've something at stake."
"And what," said her partner, a large blue-eyed Englishman with a grey
moustache, "have you got at stake this time?"
Eulalie laughed mischievously.
"If I told you," she said, "you wouldn't believe me."
Light-heartedly enough, they passed to the eighth tee.
I watched them go thoughtfully.
When the detectives came up--
"I didn't take off my hat," I explained, "because I wasn't sure. But
I'm almost certain that somewhere before I've seen that great big
fellow with the grey moustache."
My companions were not interested.