Berry and Co.
Page 11
CHAPTER XI
HOW NOBBY MET BLUE BANDALA, AND ADELE GAVE JONAH A KISS.
"Listen to this," said Berry.
"_SIR_,--_Shortly before six o'clock this evening an extremely valuableChow, by name Blue Bandala, which I purchased last March for no less asum than six hundred pounds, was brutally attacked in Bilberry villageby a rough-haired mongrel, which was accompanying two girls. I am givento understand that this animal belongs to you. I was at first determinedto issue a summons, but I have now decided to give you a chance beforedoing so. If it amuses you to keep such a cur about your house, there isnothing to prevent you from so doing. But you must understand that onceit leaves your property it must be under proper and effective control,and if it ever attacks a dog of mine again, I shall either destroy itupon the spot or apply to the Bench for its destruction. I may say thatBlue Bandala is not only very well bred, but a very quiet and friendlydog, and was in no way to blame for what occurred._
_HERBERT BASON._
_B. PLEYDELL, White Ladies._"
The explosion which the reading of this letter provoked isindescribable.
"It's a lie!" cried Jill in a choking voice. "It's a beastly lie. Hisdog started it. Nobby would never have touched him. He wasn't paying anyattention. The Chow came up from behind and just fell upon him. And howdare he say he's a mongrel? It's just one lie after another, isn't it,Adele?"
"It's outrageous," said Miss Feste. "Directly I saw the other dog Ithought he meant mischief, but before I could tell Jill, he'd startedin. Nobby didn't even know he was there."
The door opened, and dinner was announced.
"Falcon," said Berry.
"Sir," said the butler.
"Who brought this note?"
"It was a chauffeur, sir. I don't know 'im by sight, sir."
We filed out of the library, smouldering with resentment.
"But what an awful man he must be," said Daphne. "Even if our dog hadbeen in the wrong, that's no reason for writing a letter like that."
"It's unpardonable," said I. "It's quite bad enough to have him livingin the neighbourhood, but if this is the way he's going to behave...." Iturned to Adele. "Was his manner very bad at the time?"
"He seemed more rattled than anything else. He was clearly afraid tointerfere. Jill and I got them apart, as I told you. He got very red inthe face, but beyond muttering with his teeth clenched, he never said aword."
"Must have gone straight home and got it off his chest," said Jonah. "Iexpect he's awfully proud of that letter, if the truth were known."
"Well, don't let's dwell on it," said Berry, regarding the oysters whichhad been set before him. "After dinner will do. You hardly ever go downwith typhoid within six hours." He turned to Adele. "Bet you I've gotmore strepsicocci than you have," he added pleasantly.
"Shut up," said Daphne. "Adele dear, d'you like oysters? Because, don'tyou eat them if you don't."
"No, don't," said Berry. "If you don't, whatever you do, don't. Andwhatever you don't, I will."
Adele looked at him with a mischievous smile.
"I couldn't bear," she said, "to have your blood on my head."
Then she glanced gratefully at Daphne and picked up a fork.
Mr. Herbert Bason had arisen out of the cloud of War. The time hadproduced the man. The storm had burst just in the nick of time to savethe drooping theatrical interests which he controlled, and the fruitwhich these had borne steadily for the best part of five long years hadbeen truly phenomenal. A patriot to the backbone, the bewilderedproprietor obtained absolute exemption from the Tribunal, turned thefirst six rows of all his pits into stalls, and bought War Loan withboth hands. It was after the second air-raid upon London that he decidedto take a house in the country.... Less than a year ago he had disposedof his music-halls and had settled near Bilberry for good.
"By the way," said Daphne, "did I tell you? The laundry's struck."
"Thank you," said her husband, "for that phrase."
"Don't mention it," said my sister. "But I thought you'd like to know.Heaven knows when they'll go back, so I should go easy with your stiffcollars and shirts."
"What, have the saws stopped working?" said Berry. "I can't bear it."
"What about my trousers?" said I. "I've only one clean pair left."
Daphne shrugged her white shoulders.
"What about my tablecloths?" she replied.
Berry addressed himself to Adele.
"We live in pleasant times, do not we? Almost a golden age. I wonderwhat the trouble is now. Probably some absent-minded _blanchisseuse_ hasgone and ironed twenty socks in ten minutes instead of ten socks intwenty minutes, without thinking. And the management refuse to sack herfor this grievous lapse into the slough of pre-War Industry, out ofwhich a provident Trade Union has blackmailed her to climb."
"I've no doubt you're right," said I. "The question is, where are wegoing to end? It's the same everywhere. And the mere thought of IncomeTax sends my temperature up."
"Ah," said Berry. "I had a quiet hour with the Book of the Words, issuedby that Fun Palace, Somerset House, this afternoon. _Income Tax, and Howto Pay it._ Commonly styled, with unconscious humour, The Income TaxReturn. By the time I was through I had made out that, if I render astatement according to the printed instructions, my tax will exceed myincome by one hundred and forty-four pounds. If, on the other hand, Imake an incorrect return, I shall be fined fifty pounds and treble thetax payable. You really don't get a look in."
"If you say much more," groaned Jonah, "you'll spoil my appetite. When Ireflect that in 1913 and a burst of piety I sent the Chancellor of theExchequer a postal order for eight and sixpence by way of ConscienceMoney, I feel positively sick."
"Not piety," corrected my brother-in-law. "Drink. I remember you hadsome very bad goes about then."
"What a terrible memory you have!" said Adele. "I feel quite uneasy."
"Fear not, sweet one," was the reply. "Before I retail yourindiscretions I shall send you a list of them, with the price ofomission clearly marked against each in red ink. The writing will be allblurred with my tears." Here Adele declined a second vegetable. "There,now. I've gone and frightened you. And marrow's wonderful for the spine.Affords instant relief. And you needn't eat the seeds. Spit them overyour left shoulder. That'll bring you luck."
There was an outraged clamour of feminine protest.
"I won't have it," said Daphne. "Disgusting brute!"
"And that," said Jonah, "is the sodden mountebank who dares to cast astone into the limpid pool of my character. That is the overfedsluggard----"
"Take this down, somebody," said Berry. "The words'll scorch up thepaper, but never mind. Record the blasphemy. Capital 'M' for'mountebank.' 'Sluggard' with an 'H.' And I'm not overfed."
"You're getting fatter every day," said Jill, gurgling.
"That's right," said my brother-in-law. "Bay the old lion. And bringdown these grey hairs in----"
"Talking of mountebanks," said I, "who's going to Fallow Hill Fair?"
"Adele ought to see it," said Daphne. "Why don't you run her over in thecar?"
"I will, if she'd like to go. It's a real bit of old England."
"I agree," said Berry. "What with the cocoa-nut shies and the steamroundabouts, you'd think you were back in the Middle Ages. I think I'llcome, too."
"Then you go alone," said I. "I don't forget the last time you went."
"What happened?" said Adele, her eyes lighted with expectation.
Berry sighed.
"It was most unfortunate," he said. "You see, it was like this. B-behinda b-barrier there was a b-booth with a lot of b-bottles, at which youwere b-bothered to throw b-balls. If you b-broke three b-bottles----"
"This nervous alliteration," interposed Adele, "is more than I canb-bear."
"--you received a guerdon which you were encouraged to select from arevolting collection of bric-a-brac which was displayed in all its gloryupon an adjacent stall. Laden with munitions, I advanced to therails.... Unh
appily, in the excitement of the moment, I mistook myobjective.... It was a most natural error. Both were arranged in tiers,both were pleading for destruction."
"Nonsense," said Daphne. "You did it on purpose. You know you did. Inever saw anything more deliberate in all my life."
"Not at all," replied her husband. "I was confused. A large and criticalcrowd had collected to watch my prowess, and I was pardonably nervous."
"But what happened?" said Adele.
"Well," said I, "naturally nobody was expecting such a move, with theresult that the brute got off about six balls before they could stophim. The execution among the prizes was too awful. You see, they wereonly about six feet away. The owner excepted, the assembled populacethought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen."
"Yes," chimed in Jill. "And then he turned round and asked the man howmany bottles he'd won."
"I never was so ashamed," said Daphne. "Of course the poor man wasnearly off his head."
"And I paid for the damage," said Jonah.
I looked across at Adele.
"So, if he comes with us," I said, "you know what to expect."
My lady threw back her head and laughed.
"I suppose you're to be trusted," she said.
"Once past the pub," said Berry, "he'll be all right. But if he says hefeels faint outside the saloon-bar, don't argue with him, but comestraight home."
"At any rate," said Adele, "I shall have Nobby."
The reference brought us back to Mr. Bason with a rush.
In spite of our resolution to eschew the subject, that gentleman'sletter was heatedly discussed for the remainder of dinner.
To-day was the third of September, and on the eleventh a dog-show was tobe held at Brooch. I had not entered Nobby, because I felt that hisexhibition would probably cause us more trouble than the proceeding wasworth. It now occurred to us that Mr. Bason would almost certainlyenter--had probably long ago entered his precious Chow. Any localtriumph, however petty and easy for a man of means to procure, would besure to appeal to one of his calibre, and the chance, which the showwould afford, of encountering, if not accosting, one or two Countypeople would be greatly to his relish. Supposing we did enter Nobby....
The idea of beating Mr. Bason in the race for first prize with the"rough-haired mongrel" which "it amused us to keep about our house" wasmost appealing.
As soon as dinner was over, Berry rang up the Secretary.
Our surmise was correct. Blue Bandala was entered.
"Well, am I too late to enter a Sealyham?"
"Not if you do it to-morrow," came the reply.
"You shall have the particulars before mid-day."
"Right-oh."
Berry replaced the receiver.
"Little Herbert will take the first prize for Chows," he said. "Thatcan't be helped. But he's entered his dog for the 'All Comers,' andthat's our chance. If we can't lift that goblet from under his uglynose, I'll never smile again."
"What exactly's 'All Comers'?" said Jill.
"The best all-round specimen of any breed. Manners,carriage--everything's taken into consideration."
"If personality counts," said Jonah, "Nobby'll romp home."
I regarded our unconscious representative with an appraising eye. Supineupon the sofa, with his head out of sight behind Adele, there was littleto recommend him as a model of deportment. With a sigh I resumed thecomposition of a reply to Mr. Bason's remarkable letter.
When I had finished the draft, I gave it to Berry. The latter read itthrough, nodding solemn approval. Then he repaired to the writing-tableand copied my sentences, word for word, on to a sheet of notepaper.
As he laid down his pen, he rose to his feet.
"I'll tell you what," he said. "If the blighter replies, and Nobby comesoff at the show, we'll send this correspondence to the local Press."
"Let's have it," said Jonah.
Berry handed me the letter, and I read it aloud.
_SIR,_
_I have received your note._
_As an alloy of misrepresentation of fact, arrogant bluster and idlemenaces, I doubt whether it has ever been equalled upon this side of theRhine._
_Indeed, its legibility would appear to be its only merit._
_Not that I care for your style of handwriting, but in these degeneratedays it is, you will agree, a relief to receive a letter which can beeasily read._
_You did go a bust on Blue Banana, didn't you?_
_Pray act upon your first impulse and apply for a summons. The Benchwill not grant your application, but--again you will agree--it is theeffort, and not the result, which counts._
_It is nice of you to inquire after my Sealyham. He is none the worse,thanks, and I fancy he made old Blue Banana sit up._
_Yours faithfully,_
_BERRY PLEYDELL._
_H. BASON, Esq._
_P.S.--You must forgive me for addressing you as "Esquire," but it isdifficult to break a foolish habit of courtesy which I formed as achild. B. P._
"Fifteen thirty," cried Adele, making ready to serve. "Hullo!" Shepointed with her racket over my shoulder. "Nobby's gone lame."
I swung on my heel to see the terrier limping apologetically towards me,and going dead lame upon the near fore.
As he came up, I dropped my racket and fell upon one knee, the better tosearch for the cause of the trouble. Carefully I handled the affectedlimb....
My fingers came to his toes, and the Sealyham winced. With a sigh ofrelief, I laid him upon his back.
"Got it?" said Adele.
I looked up into the beautiful face three inches from mine.
"I fancy so." I bent to peer at the small firm foot. "Yes. Here we are.He's picked up a puncture."
The next moment I plucked a substantial thorn from between two strongblack toes. A warm red tongue touched my restraining fingers in obviousgratitude.
"Will he be all right?"--anxiously.
"He shall speak for himself," said I, releasing my patient.
With a galvanic squirm the latter regained his feet, spun into the air,gyrated till I felt dizzy, and then streaked round the tennis-lawn, hishind feet comically overreaching his fore, steering a zigzag course withsuch inconsequence as suggested that My Lord of Misrule himself wasdirecting him by wireless.
It was not worth while finishing our interrupted game, so we strolledback to the house. At the top of the stairs we parted, to go and change.Directly after lunch we were to leave for the fair.
Six days had elapsed since Nobby's scuffle with the apple of Mr. Bason'seye. Life had slipped by uneventfully. The Sealyham had been put upon astrict diet and was thoroughly groomed three times a day: my store ofclean starched linen had dwindled to one shirt and two collars, which,distrusting my brother-in-law, I kept under lock and key: and Mr. Basonhad been stung by our letter into sending a reply which afforded us themaximum of gratification. It ran as follows--
_SIR,_
_Your insulting letter to hand._
_I stand by every word of my previous letter._
_The sooner, therefore, that you realize that I am not to be trifledwith, the better for all concerned._
_You are evidently one of those people who believe that impudent bluffwill carry them anywhere, and that, with your birth and upbringingbehind you, you can do as you please. But you are wrong. Among men whoare men, as distinct from pedantic popinjays, you go for nothing.Pshaw._
_HERBERT BASON.
B. PLEYDELL, Esq._
_P.S.--Be good enough to note that my dog's name is "Blue Bandala," not"Blue Banana."_
_H. B._
Our reply was dispatched within twenty-four hours.
_SIR,_
_Many thanks for your masterly appreciation of my character._
_We all think "pedantic popinjays" simply splendid. Is it your own?_
_Don't tell old Banana Skin, but I've had the nerve to enter my Sealyhamfor the "All Comers" event at Brooch._
_So glad you're not to be trifled with. Selah._r />
_Yours faithfully,_
_BERRY PLEYDELL.
H. BASON, Esq._
In two days' time we should meet at Philippi.
It must be confessed that there were moments when we remembered ourprecipitancy in some uneasiness. Nobby was well bred, but he had notcost six hundred pounds. Always he looked his best, and his best wasextremely good. His many excellent points were set off by a mostattractive air and a singular charm and sprightliness of manner. Everymovement and pose was full of grace, and he had the brightest eyes thatI have ever seen. But Blue Bandala was clearly a "show" animal. Couldour little David beat this very Goliath among dogs, and that upon thelatter's own ground? Could our little amateur take on a plus-fourprofessional and beat him at his own game? There was no manner of doubtthat angels would at least have walked delicately where we had rushedin. However, it was too late now. Even if we would, we could not drawback. Beyond doing what we could to keep him as fit as a fiddle, therewas nothing to be done.
After a bath I put on a tweed suit, concealed my discarded and solesurviving pair of white trousers from the rapacious eye of a randomhousemaid, and descended to lunch.
An hour later Adele and Nobby and I were all in the Rolls, sailing alongthe soft brown roads _en route_ for Fallow Hill.
It was a day of great loveliness, and the forest ways were one and allbeset with a rare glory.
Thirty-six hours before, the first frost of autumn had touched thebreast of Earth with silver finger-tips. 'Twas but a runaway knock. Themischief-loving knave was gone again, before the bustling dame hadbraced herself to open to her pert visitor. Maybe the rogue was beatingup his quarters. The time of his dreaded lodgment was not yet. Hisapprehensive hostess was full of smiles. Summer was staying on....
Yet on the livery of the countryside the accolade of Frost had wrought awonder. Two days ago the world was green. To-day a million leavesglanced, green as before, yet with a new-found lustre--something of redin it, something of gold, something of sober brown. But the wonder wasnot to the trees. It was the humble bracken that had been dubbed knight.The homespun of the forest was become cloth of pure gold, glittering,flawless. In the twinkling of an eye the change had come. Here was anacre spread with the delicate fronds, and there a ragged mile, andyonder but shreds and patches--yet all of magic gold, flinging thesunlight back, lighting the shadows, making the humblest ride too richfor kings to trample till the green roofs and walls looked dull besideit, and the ephemeral magnificence took Memory by the throat and wrung alease of life from that Reversioner.
"Tell me," I said, "of Mr. Bason. He interests me, and I've never seenhim."
"Mr. Bason," said Adele, "is short and fat and--yes, I'm afraid he'sgreasy. He has bright yellow hair and a ridiculous moustache, which isbrushed up on end on each side of his nostrils. He has very watery paleblue eyes, and all the blood in his face seems to have gone to hisnose."
"Muscular rheumatism," I suggested.
"I guess so. Of course, he knows best, and I don't pretend to say whatmen should wear, but white flannel suits aren't becoming to everyfigure, are they? Most of the rest of him was mauve--shirt, socks andhandkerchief. Oh, and he had a tie on his pin."
"But how lovely!"
"Yes, but you should have smelt the lilac. He was just perfumed todeath. If he isn't careful, one of these days he'll get picked."
"One of the old school, in fact. Well, well...." We swept round acorner, and I nodded ahead. "See that ridge in front of us? Well, that'sFallow Hill. The village lies close, just on the other side."
"What are you going to do with the car?" said Adele.
"They'll let me lock her up--don't be shocked--at the brewery. I knowthem there."
"You'll admit it sounds bad."
"Yes, but it smells lovely. You wait. For that reason alone, I shouldvote against Prohibition. The honest scent of brewing, stealing acrossthe meadows on a summer eve, is one of the most inspiring things Iknow."
"But what a man!" said Adele. "'Books in the running brooks, _Virtue invats_, and good in everything.' Nobby," she added reproachfully, "whydidn't you tell me he was a poet?" The Sealyham put his head on oneside, as if desiring her to repeat the question. "Oh, you cute thing!"And, with that, my lady bent and kissed the terrier between the brightbrown eyes.
I put the wheel over hard, and the car swerved violently.
"For Heaven's sake!" cried Miss Feste. "What are you doing?"
"It's your fault," said I. "I'm only human. Besides, he doesn't deserveit."
Adele flung me a dazzling smile, made as though she would say something,and then, apparently changing her mind, relapsed into a provokingsilence....
A quarter of an hour later the Rolls had been safely bestowed at thebrewery, and my companion and I were making our way amusedly past boothsand tents and caravans, where chapmen, hucksters, drovers, cheapjacks,gipsies and bawling showmen wrangled and chaffered and cried their waresor entertainments, making with the crude music of the merry-go-roundsmuch the same good-humoured uproar which had been faithfully rendered atthe village of Fallow Hill every September for the last five hundredyears.
"Blessings on your sweet pretty face, my lady!" cried an old voice.
We turned to see a very old gipsy, seated a little apart upon a backlesschair, nodding and smiling in our direction.
Adele inclined her head, and I slid a hand into my pocket.
"Come hither to me, my lady," piped the old dame, "and let your mancross my old palm with silver, and I'll tell you your fortune. Ah, butyou have a happy face."
Adele looked at me, and I nodded.
"They're a good folk," I said, "and you'll get better stuff for yourmoney than you would in Bond Street. But don't, if you don't want to."
My words could not have been heard by the gipsy. Yet, before Adele couldreply--
"Aye," she said, "the pretty gentleman's right. We're a good folk, andthere be some among us can see farther than the dwellers in towns."Adele started, and the crone laughed. "Come hither, my lady, and let melook in your eyes."
She was an old, old woman, but the snow-white hair that thrust frombeneath her kerchief was not thin: her face was shrunken and wrinkled,yet apple-cheeked: and her great sloe-black eyes glowed with a strangebrilliance, as if there were fires kindled deep in the wasted sockets.
Adele stepped forward, when, to my amazement, the gipsy put up her handsand groped for the girl's shoulders. The significance of the gesture wasplain. She was stone blind.
For a while she mumbled, and, since I had not gone close, I did not hearwhat she said. But Adele was smiling, and I saw the colour come floodinginto her cheeks....
Then the old dame lifted up her voice and called to me to come also.
I went to her side.
An old gnarled hand fumbled its way on to my arm.
"Aye," she piped. "Aye. Tis as I thought. Your man also must lose ere hefind. Together ye shall lose, and together gain. And ye shall comfortone another."
The tremulous voice ceased, and the hands slipped away.
I gave her money and Adele thanked her prettily.
She cried a blessing upon us, I whistled to Nobby, and we strolledon....
"Look at that baby," said Adele. "Isn't he cute?"
"Half a second," said I, turning and whistling. "Which baby?"
"There," said Adele, pointing. "With the golden hair."
A half-naked sun-kissed child regarded us with a shy smile. It wasimpossible not to respond....
Again I turned and whistled.
"Where can he be?" said Adele anxiously.
"Oh, he always turns up," I said. "But, if you don't mind going back alittle way, it'll save time. With all this noise..."
We went back a little way. Then we went back a long way. Then we askedpeople if they had seen a little white dog with a black patch. Alwaysthe answer was in the negative. One man laughed and said something about"a dog in a fair," and Fear began to knock at my heart. I whistled untilthe muscles of my lips ached. Adele w
anted us to search separately, butI refused. It was not a place for her to wander alone. Feverishly wesought everywhere. Twice a white dog sent our hopes soaring, only toprove a stranger and dash them lower than before. Round and about and inand out among the booths and swings and merry-go-rounds we hastened,whistling, calling and inquiring in vain. Nobby was lost.
* * * * *
We had intended to be home in time for tea.
As it was, we got back to White Ladies, pale and dejected, at a quarterto eight.
As she rose to get out of the car, Adele gave a cry and felt franticallyabout her neck and throat.
"What's the matter?" I cried.
"My pearls," she said simply. "They're not here."
For what it was worth, I called for lights, and we took the cushions outand looked in the car.
But there was no sign of the necklace. It was clean gone.
* * * * *
The lamentations with which the news of our misfortunes was receivedwere loud and exceeding bitter.
Jill burst into tears; Daphne tried vainly to comfort her, and thenfollowed her example; Berry and Jonah vied with each other in gloomycross-examination of Adele and myself concerning our movements since wehad left White Ladies, and in cheerless speculation with regard to theprobable whereabouts of our respective treasures.
After a hurried meal the Rolls was again requisitioned, and all six ofus proceeded to Fallow Hill. Not until eleven o'clock would the fun ofthe fair be suspended, and it was better to be on the spot, even if forthe second time we had to come empty away, than to spend the evening inthe torment of inactivity.
Of the loss of the Sealyham we could speak more definitely than of thatof the necklace. Nobby had been by my side when the gipsy hailed us, sothat there was no doubt but that he was lost at the fair. Regarding herpearls, Adele could speak less positively. In fact, to say that she hadhad the necklace before breakfast that morning was really as far as shecould go. "I know I had it then," she affirmed, "because I always takeit off before taking my bath, and I remember putting it on afterwards.As luck will have it, I was rather late this morning, and I couldn'tfasten the safety-chain, so after two or three shots I gave up trying,intending to do it later on. And this is the result." She had not bathedagain.
It was a sweet pretty gaud. So perfectly matched were its hundred andtwo pearls that many would have believed it unreal. It had belonged toher great-grandmother, and was not insured.
Arrived at Fallow Hill, we went straight to the police. The loss of thejewels we communicated to them alone. Somewhat shamefacedly and plainlyagainst Adele's will, I described the old gipsy and commended her totheir vigilance. When they learned that she had laid hands upon Adele,the two inspectors exchanged glances which there was no mistaking....
So far as Nobby was concerned, as well as informing the police, weenlisted the sympathy of the Boy Scouts. Also we engaged six rustics toperambulate the fair and cry the loss of the Sealyham for all to hear.Information leading to his recovery would be rewarded with the sum offive pounds, while the crier to whom the communication was made wouldreceive five more for himself. Our six employees went about their workwith a will, bellowing lustily. Daphne and Jonah sat in the car,rejecting the luckless mongrels which were excitedly paraded beforethem, one after another, from the moment that our loss was made known.The rest of us hunted in couples--Adele with Berry, and Jill withme--scouring the maze of temporary alleys and lanes and crookedquadrangles, till we knew them by heart.
The merry-go-rounds had stopped whirling, and the booths were beingshrouded or dismantled, as Jill and I made our way to the car for thelast time.
As we came up--
"That you, Boy?" cried Daphne. "Here's a waggoner who thinks he sawNobby being taken away."
A little knot of men parted, and Jill and I thrust our way forward.
"Oi wouldden be sure," said a deep rough voice, "but a was a lil whitechap of a dog on en' of a string. 'Twas a grume, simly, a-leadin' 'imBrooch way. An' a didn't want for to go, neither, for a stock toes in, adid, an' collar was 'alf-way over 'ead. Just come forth from _The ThreeBulls_, Oi 'ad, oop yonder o' Bear Lane, an' the toime were nigh threeo' the aafternoon."
We questioned him closely, but he could tell us no more.
Slight as the clue was, it was infinitely better than none at all. If itwas indeed Nobby that the waggoner had seen, the thief was taking himout of the village, at least in the direction of White Ladies. This wasencouraging. That any one making for the railway station would take thesame road was a less pleasant reflection.
I took our informant's name and address and those of the crier who hadbrought him to the car. Then we dispensed some silver, and left forhome.
Of Adele's necklace we had heard nothing.
We determined to concentrate upon the recovery of the pearls upon thefollowing day.
* * * * *
All through a wretched night the pitiful vacancy at the foot of my bedreminded me brutally of my loss. My poor little dog--where was hepassing these dark hours? How many more must drag their way along beforethe warm white ball lay curled again in the crook of my knees? Had herested there for the last time? With a groan I thrust the thought fromme, but always it returned, leering hideously. Miserably I recited hisqualities--his love for me, his mettle, his beauty, his unfailing goodhumour.... What naughtiness there was in him seemed very precious.Painfully I remembered his thousand pretty ways. He had a trick ofwaving his little paws, when he was tired of begging....
Small wonder that I slept ill and fitfully.
Early as I was, the others were already at breakfast when I came down.Only Adele had not appeared.
It was a melancholy meal.
Jonah said not a word, and Berry hardly opened his mouth. There weredark rings under Jill's grey eyes, and Daphne looked pale and tired.
A communication from the Secretary of the Brooch Dog Show, enclosing apass for the following day, and informing me that my Sealyham mustarrive at the Show in the charge of not more than one attendant by 11a.m., did not tend to revive our drooping spirits. We had nearlyfinished, when, with a glance at the clock, my sister set her foot uponthe bell.
As the butler entered the room--
"Send up and see if Miss Feste will breakfast upstairs, Falcon. Ithink----"
"Miss Feste has breakfasted, madam."
"Already?"
"Yes, madam. Her breakfast was taken to her before eight o'clock."
"Where is she?"
"I think she's out bicycling, madam."
"Bicycling?"
The inquiry leapt from five mouths simultaneously.
"Yes, madam. She sent for me and asked if I could find 'er a lady'sbicycle, an' Greenaway was very 'appy to lend 'er 'ers, madam. An' Fitchpumped up the tires, an' she went off about 'alf-past eight, madam."
We stared at one another in bewilderment.
"Did she say where she was going?" said Berry.
"No, sir."
"All right, Falcon."
The butler bowed and withdrew.
Amid the chorus of astonished exclamation, Berry held up his hand.
"It's very simple," he said. "She's unhinged."
"Rubbish," said his wife.
"The disappearance of Nobby, followed by the loss of her necklace, haspreyed upon her mind. Regardless alike of my feelings and of the canonsof good taste, she rises at an hour which is almost blasphemous and goesforth unreasonably to indulge in the most hellish form of exercise everinvented. What further evidence do we need? By this time she hasprobably detached the lamp from the velocipede and is walking about,saying she's Florence Nightingale."
"Idiot," said Daphne.
"Not yet," said her husband, "but I can feel it coming on." He cast aneye downward and shivered. "I feared as much. My left leg is allunbuttoned."
"For goodness' sake," said his wife, "don't sit there drivelling----"
"Sorry," said
Berry, "but I haven't got a clean bib left. This laundrystrike----"
"I said 'drivelling,' not 'dribbling.' You know I did. And what are wewasting time for? Let's do something--anything."
"Right-oh," said her husband. "What about giving the bread some birds?"And with that he picked up a loaf and deliberately pitched it out of thewindow on to the terrace.
The fact that the casement was not open until after the cast, made hisbehaviour the more outrageous.
The very wantonness of the act, however, had the excellent effect ofbreaking the spell of melancholy under which we were labouring.
In a moment all was confusion.
Jill burst into shrieks of laughter; Jonah, who had been immersed in_The Times_, cursed his cousin for the shock to his nerves; in a shakingvoice Daphne assured the butler, whom the crash had brought running,that it was "All right, Falcon; Major Pleydell thought the window wasopen"; and the delinquent himself was loudly clamouring to be toldwhether he had won the slop-pail outright or had only got to keep itclean for one year.
Twenty minutes later Jonah had left for Brooch to see the ChiefConstable about the missing jewels and arrange for the printing anddistribution of an advertisement for Nobby. The rest of us, doing ourutmost to garnish a forlorn hope with the seasoning of expectation, madediligent search for the necklace about the terrace, gardens andtennis-lawn. After a fruitless two hours we repaired to the house, wherewe probed the depths of sofas and chairs, emptied umbrella-stands,settles, flower-bowls and every other receptacle over which our guestmight have leaned, and finally thrust an electric torch into the bowelsof the piano and subjected that instrument to a thorough examination.
At length--
"I give it up," said Daphne, sinking into a chair. "I don't think it canbe here."
"Nor I," said I. "I think we've looked everywhere."
"Yes," said Berry. "There's only the cesspool left. We can drag thatbefore lunch, if you like, but I should prefer one more full meal beforeI die."
"Boy! Boy!"
Somewhere from behind closed doors a sweet excited voice was calling.
I sprang to the door.
"Yes, Adele, yes?" I shouted.
A moment later my lady sped down a passage and into the hall.
"Get the car quick. I've found Nobby."
"Where?" we yelled.
"That man Bason's got him."
Her announcement momentarily deprived us of breath. Then we all started,and in the next two minutes sufficient was said about the retiredmusic-hall proprietor to make that gentleman's pendulous ears burst intoblue flame.
Again want of breath intervened, and Adele besought us to make ready thecar.
We explained vociferously that Jonah had taken the Rolls and would beback any minute. Whilst we were waiting, would she not tell us her tale?
Seating herself upon the arm of a chair, she complied forthwith.
"None of you seemed to suspect him, and, as I'm usually wrong, I decidedto say nothing. But last night I asked a Boy Scout where he lived.Curiously enough, the boy had a brother who was a gardener in Bason'semploy. That made me think. I asked him whether I could have a word withhis brother, and he told me he lived at a cottage close to his work, andwas almost always at home between nine and half-past in the morning.
"When he came home this morning, I was waiting for him. He seemed a niceman, so I told him the truth and asked him to help me. Thorn--that's hisname--doesn't like Bason a bit, and at once agreed that he was quitecapable of the dirtiest work, if any one got in his way. He hadn't, hesaid, seen Nobby, but that wasn't surprising. If the dog was there he'dprobably be in the stables, and with those Thorn has nothing to do.
"Bason doesn't keep horses, but he uses one of the coach-houses as agarage. The chauffeur seems to be rather worse than his master. He'sloathed by the rest of the staff, and, while he and Bason are as thickas thieves, neither trusts the other an inch.
"The first thing to do, obviously, was to find out if Nobby was there.Everything was always kept locked, so I determined to try the 'Blondel'stunt--yes, I know a lot of English History--and try and make Coeur deLion speak for himself.
"First we synchronized our watches. Then Thorn showed me the house andtold me exactly where the garage and stables were--close to the gates,happily. Then we arranged that in ten minutes' time he should try to getthe chauffeur out of the way, while I took a look round. More than thatwe couldn't fix, but it was understood that, if there was a dog thereand Thorn got an opening, he was to undo his collar and give him achance to make good on his own. That wouldn't involve Thorn, for hecould fasten the collar again and make it look as if Nobby had slippedit."
"But what a brain!" said Berry. "One short month of my society, and thegirl----"
An avalanche of protest cut short the speaker.
Adele continued, gurgling.
"At first everything went all right. At twenty minutes to ten I put myhead round the corner to see the chauffeur and Thorn disappearing at theother end of the yard. I stepped out of my cover and had a look round.There were stables on one side, and a coachhouse and garage on theother, and the yard, which was open at both ends, lay in between. I wasjust going to try the loose-boxes--I was going to 'miaow' like a cat andsee what answer I got--when I heard Bason's voice calling Banana....
"There was only one door open, and that was the garage. I dashed for itand looked round for somewhere to hide. The place was as bare as yourhand. But there was nothing the matter with the limousine, so I gotinside and sat down on the floor.
"I was only just in time.
"Bason came stamping into the yard, shouting for 'Arthur,' and the nextmoment Nobby gave tongue.
"I just had to look.
"There was Blue Banana with his nose to the door of the loose-boximmediately opposite, snarling and showing his teeth, Bason washammering on the door, yelling 'Shut up, you brute!' and Nobby, ofcourse, was barking to beat the band."
As she spoke, a faint familiar cough from the drive announced the returnof Jonah from Brooch.
In less time than it takes to record, I had flown to the front-door andput him wise. Two minutes later we were all in the Rolls, which wasscudding at an unlawful speed along the Fallow Hill road.
"There's nothing much more to tell," said Adele, as we clamoured for herto proceed. "I thought Bason would never go, and, when at last he did,the chauffeur took the opportunity of changing the two front tires.
"For over two hours I sat in that car. At last the man shut the place upand, I suppose, went to his dinner.
"I had meant to borrow the limousine, but he'd taken the key of theswitch, so I couldn't do that. And I couldn't get at Nobby, for thestable was locked. So I just pelted back to Thorn's cottage, told hiswife to tell him my news, picked up the bicycle and came right back."
For a moment no one said anything. Then--
"I shall recommend you," said Berry, "for the Most Excellent Order ofthe Beer Engine. A very coveted distinction. The membership is limitedto seven million."
"Yes," said I, "for a most daring reconnaissance behind the enemy'slines. You know, this ranks with the penetration of the Kiel Canal.Seriously, Adele, I'm terribly grateful."
My lady looked at me with a shy smile.
"What did the gipsy say?" she said. "After all I'm only obeying orders.And now----"
A cry from Jonah interrupted her, and the rest of us started inquiringlyas he clapped on the brakes.
As the car came to a standstill--
"What's the matter?" I cried.
By way of answer my cousin took off his hat and, producing a silkhandkerchief, deliberately wiped his forehead with the utmost care. Thenhe replaced his hat and looked up and over his right shoulder....
From the top of a mossy bank by the side of the road Nobby was regardingus wide-eyed. Apparently he had broken prison and was on his way home.Time was nothing to him, and the roots of a wayside beech upon anattractive rise cried aloud for inspection. Besides, there was a seriousloss of liberty wh
ich had to be made good....
For a moment rescue-party and prize looked one another in the face. Thenthe latter hurled himself panting into the road and leapt into the armswhich I stretched out of the car.
No prodigal ever received such an ovation. There was literally a fightfor his person. Jill snatched him from me and pressed his nose to herface; Berry dragged him from her protesting arms and set him upon hisknee; Daphne tore him away and hugged him close. Such of us as weretemporarily disseized, stroked and fondled his limbs and cried endearingepithets. Only our fair American looked on with a wistful smile.
"So, you see," she said, "he's done without me, after all.'"
I took hold of her hand.
"My dear," I said, "your argument would be more forcible if he waswearing a collar."
There was a buzz of excitement as my statement was feverishly confirmed.
"I agree," said Berry. "What's more, he's brought us a souvenir."
As he spoke, he plucked something which was adhering to the terrier'sbeard.
It was a tuft of slate-grey hair.
* * * * *
The "All Comers" Event was won by Nobby, who beat a French bulldog by ashort head.
Neither Blue Bandala nor his owner put in an appearance. For this aparticularly curt note, bluntly requiring the return of the Sealyham'scollar, may have been responsible.
The waggoner and the lad who found him received their rewards.
So also did Thorn. His letter of acknowledgment was addressed to Adele.
_DEAR MADAM,_
_Thank you kindly for the 5 lbs. I got to the dog by way of the ayloftwhich were in one of the stalls I undone is coller and here he run outthe first dore as was open and appening on Blew Bandarlerer did not harfput it acrost him and Mr. Bason says I command you to seperate them dogsArthur he says and Arthur fetches Blew B. one what he ment for your dogand Mr. Bason fetches him another what he ment for Arthur so the choughcort it proper._
_Yours respecfully,_
_G. THORN._
But for the loss of the pearls, we should have been jubilant.
* * * * *
Three days had elapsed since the dog show.
The whole of the morning and part of the afternoon I had spent in abathroom, supervising the disconnection, severance and inspection of thewaste-pipe which served the basin. When, hot and dejected, I made myreport at half-past three, Adele thanked me as prettily as if I hadfound the pearls.
I retired to wash and change into flannels.
It must have been two hours later when I looked up from the operation ofcombing Nobby and took my pipe from my mouth.
"Oh, Adele," I said simply, "I do love you so."
Adele put out a hand and touched my hair.
"I'm glad you do," she said gently.
As I got upon my feet, one end of her necklace hung trailing over theedge of my trousers where I had turned them up. They were the pair I hadworn at tennis the day we had gone to the fair, and it must have falleninto the fold when we were finding the thorn.
Adele saw it too, but, when I would have stooped, she shook her head.
Then I looked into her eyes, and there found such a light that I forgotthe pearls and the rolling world with them.
As she slipped into my arms, she threw back her head.
"Once, at Port Said, you kissed me," she whispered. "And again at Rome."I nodded. "But this is your own home."
"Yes," I said steadily. "And here I plight thee my troth."
The brown eyes closed, and a glorious smile swept Into the beautifulface.
For a moment I gazed at her....
Then I kissed the red, red lips.
So we comforted one another.
* * * * *
The unexpected arrival of the laundry van at five minutes to eight,with, amongst other things, a month's table-linen, had pardonablydislocated the service of dinner.
Whilst the table was being relaid we spent the time in the library,gathered about the violet-tongued comfort of a chestnut-root fire.
"You know," said Jonah, looking up from an armchair, "if wedon't----Good Heavens!" His exclamation was so violent that we alljumped. "Why," he cried, staring at Adele, "you've found them!"
A common cry of amazement broke from Daphne, Berry and Jill, and ourguest started guiltily and put a hand to her throat.
"O-o-oh, I "--she shot an appealing glance at me--"we quite forgot. Boyfound them in the garden, whilst he was combing Nobby."
Berry looked round.
"You hear?" he said. "They quite forgot.... They stumble upon jewelsworth a month of strike pay--baubles whose loss has stupefied theCounty, and forget to mention it. And I spent two hours this afternoonin a gas-mask studying the plan of the drains and calculating whether,if the second manhole was opened and a gorgonzola put down to draw thefire, Jonah could reach the grease-trap before he became unconscious."He raised his eyes to heaven and groaned. "The only possible excuse," headded, "is that you're both in...."
His voice tailed off, as he met Adele's look, and he got suddenly uponhis feet.
Jonah stood up, too.
Daphne took Adele's hands in hers and turned to me a face radiant withexpectation.
Jill caught at my sleeve and began to tremble. I put my arm about herand looked round.
"We plead that excuse," I said.
For a moment nobody moved.
Then Jonah limped to my dear and put her hand to his lips. Adele stoopedand kissed him.
"You beautiful darling," breathed my sister. "Sargent shall paint you,and you shall hang at the foot of the stairs."
The two kissed one another tenderly.
Then Adele stretched out her white arms to grey-eyed Jill. My littlecousin just clung to her.
"Oh, Adele," she whispered, "I'm so glad. B-but you won't go away? Heand you'll stay with us, won't you?"
"If you want me, darling."
Berry cleared his throat.
"Of course," he said, "as the head of the family--the overlord--I shouldhave come first. However, I shall kiss her 'Good night' instead.Possibly I shall ker-rush her to me." He turned to me. "This will be thesecond time within my memory that a Pleydell has married above him."
"Very true," said I. "When was the first?"
"When I married your sister."
I nodded dreamily.
"I think," I said, "I think I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth."
Berry shook his head.
"Not a spoon," he said. "A soup-ladle."
THE END
NEW FICTION
THE BOX FROM JAPAN
By
HARRY STEPHEN KEELER
Another baffling story by the great detective-story writer who isalready becoming world-famous for his marvellously intricate andingenious plots. This story is a jewel of many facets in brilliantsetting. Here Mr. Keeler's genius for the mystery-plot comes into anamazing perfection.
_Popular successes by this Author_:
The Amazing WebThieves' NightsThe Fourth KingThe Green Jade HandSing Sing NightsThe Tiger SnakeThe Blue SpectaclesFind the ClockThe Black Satchel
All who love strong character and thrilling incident will revel in thisessentially clever story.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
CALEB'S CONQUEST
By JOSEPH HOCKING
Caleb, the sixteen-year-old son of a small farmer, ran away on hisfather's death and engaged himself as a farm labourer. What he discoversin the next few years makes a typical Hocking Cornish adventure romance.
_Other popular Stories by this Author_:
Mistress Nancy MolesworthThe BirthrightIshmael PengellyGod and MammonThe Weapons of MysteryHeartseaseThe Tenant of Cromlech CottageNancy Trevanion's LegacyThe Secret of TrescobellA Prince of this WorldGreater LoveJabez EasterbrookAn Enemy Hath Done ThisRoger TrewinionThe Sign of the TriangleOut of the Depths
There are few be
tter story-tellers than Mr. Joseph Hocking, especiallywhen he is dealing with his beloved Cornwall. His stories arethrillingly interesting, and rivet the attention of the reader frombeginning to end.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
THE SIGN OF THE GLOVE
(_Another_ "LEATHERMOUTH" _Novel_.)
By CARLTON DAWE
Colonel Gantian ("Leathermouth") is called upon by his friend, aCommissioner of Scotland Yard, to help in elucidating the mysteriousevents behind the death of the late Governor of Bombay. With muchhesitation and reluctance, having just got married, he accepts themission. But it sends him walking into many dangers, and it is only withmuch trouble that finally he is triumphant.
_Other recent successes by this Author_:
LeathermouthThe GlareThe Forbidden ShrineThe Knightsbridge AffairSlings and ArrowsLove, the ConquerorPacific BlueThe Desirable WomanThe Winding RoadThe Missing ClueFishers of MenWanted
"For a certain crispness of dialogue, and deft arrangement of the eventsof a good plot, Mr. Carlton Dawe has very few rivals."--_The YorkshirePost_.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
A MYSTERY CHAIN
By L. G. MOBERLY
This story deals with a foreign woman, who poses as a greatphilanthropist, but who, under cover of her social activities, isinvolved in very other matters. What these are must be left to MissMoberly to tell, and she tells them in a story of great power, vividnessand charm.
_Some of Miss Moberly's previous successes_:
The Voice Fingers of Fate Stepping Stones Hope, My Wife Vere Diana ATangled Web A Way of Escape Threads of Life The Eternal Dustbin RenewalA Change and a Chance The Master Key
In the long list of successful novelists Miss Moberly takes a highplace. Her novels are not merely thrillers, but a readable love story isinvariably woven into the mystery.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
THE YELLOW WAGON
By CHARMAN EDWARDS
A beautiful woman, destined to be England's most famous actress, bornamid the glamour yet hardship of that picturesque and now almostobsolete institution of rural England, the travelling theatre. Againstthis coloured background and that of the West-end stage is the story ofthe men who craved her for her beauty alone. Here is no impossibleheroine who survives her many ordeals unscathed--Sheila Fitzpatrick isbut human after all--but the reader's sympathy will be with her to theend.
_By the same Author_:
WindfellowDerisionHigh StreetRainbrotherSir Richard PennilessMr. Edwards writes in a manner that holds one to his story.Characterisation comes easy to him. He has a facility for sustainedsuspense and he constructs with admirable economy.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
THE PITIFUL LADY
By KATHARINE TYNAN
Robin, when left alone in the world, with her great love for animals,finds her vocation in veterinary surgery. The a returning of a lost dogto its owner brings into her life a new interest, and through theepisodes that follow Katharine Tynan brings to a satisfactory conclusionone of the most charming and characteristic of her romances.
_Other popular Stories by this Author_:
Pat, the AdventurerThe Briar Bush MaidA Fine GentlemanThe Wild AdventureCastle PerilousThe Squire's SweetheartThe Most Charming FamilyThe Admirable SimmonsThe PlaygroundMy Love's But a LassiePhillipa's LoverDelia's Orchard
Clean, wholesome love stories, free from intrigue and sensationalism,and containing well-drawn characters and good dialogue.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
TILL DOOMSDAY
By ROBIN TEMPLE
The dramatic story of a man whose divorced wife, an actress, seeks, forvanity's sake, to allure him back to her and away from another woman whohas entered his life, and with whom he has fallen in love. The storymoves with a sure pace throughout, and the end is finely wrought.
To all who like a powerful adventure story, written with a punch, thisnovel can be whole-heartedly recommended.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
WHITE GOLD
By OTTWELL BINNS
To Ferrars, home on leave, came an S O S call from a friend gaoled inMozambique. He held the secret of a platinum find, and corrupt officialswished to filch it from him. A thrilling rescue and a neck-and-neck racefor the treasure followed.
_Other Stories by this Author_:
The White Hands of JusticeThe Grey RatA Mating in the WildsWhere the Aurora FlamesJava JackA Sin of SilenceThe Secret PearlsSnowbirdJim TrelawneyThe Flaming CrescentThe Man from MalobaThe Love that BelievethA Gipsy of the NorthAn Adventurer of the BayBehind the RangesThe Diamond TrailThe Three Black DotsThe Vanished Guest
"Mr. Binns gives us a story, clear-cut of pattern and compactly woven,and when it has been read, we turn to it again for the sake of theatmosphere of the wilds."--_Yorkshire Observer_.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
PANDORA'S BOX
AND OTHER STORIES
By STEPHEN McKENNA
A volume of great charm and wit, fully representing the author's variedtalents, and vigorously written in the style that has made him famous.
Mr. Stephen McKenna's admirers, and their number is legion, will rejoicein this attractive volume.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
THE RETURN OF JENNY WEAVER
By MARGARET TURNBULL
A murder trial that becomes more complex as it proceeds, and (strange tosay) less sordid; for under cross-examination there gradually emergesthe story of a bygone romance so touching that the young squire, on hisacquittal of the murder charge, yields the centre of the stage to hispoor, foolish, fluttering mother.
_By the same Author_:
The Handsome Man A Monkey in Silk The Left Lady
The Author writes a rattling good yarn, full of excitement. Thoroughlybrisk in action, her stories are told in a virile and spirited manner.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
WINNING THROUGH
By JESSE TEMPLETON
The story of the shipwreck of an Atlantic Liner and of the thrillingadventures that befall a small party of survivors stranded in Labrador.Their efforts to reach civilisation have an epic character, yet aromantic thread runs through the story to the very end.
_Previous Novels by this Author_:
Dead or AliveBetween the TidesClay-FaceThe Bitter TestThe Yellow HibiscusTen Fathoms Deep
Mr. Templeton has reached distinct artistry in attractive dialogue, inclean and wholesome action and in presentation of exciting situationswithout undue strain on credulity.
WARD, LOCK &CO., LIMITED
NEW FICTION
THE HAWKMOOR MYSTERY
By W. H. LANE CRAUFORD
_Author of "The Missing Ace"_
A diamond of incalculable value is stolen from an Indian Temple byCaptain Berrington. Then, some twenty years afterwards, in an Englishcountry house, there are strange and bewildering happenings. Theelucidation of the mystery involved makes an exceptionally thrilling andpowerful story.
A story written in a light vein that will bring many a chuckle to youwhilst its most absorbing problem is gradually unfolded.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED