Jonah and Co.

by Dornford Yates

  CHAPTER III

  HOW A GOLDEN CALF WAS SET UP, AND NOBBY SHOWED HIMSELF A TRUE PROPHET

  Five fat weeks had rolled by since Adele had eased Jonah of sixtypounds, and the Antoinette ring we had given her to commemorate thefeat was now for the first time in danger of suffering an eclipse. Ina word, a new star had arisen.

  "I dreamed about it," said Daphne. "I knew I should."

  I knitted my brows.

  "I wish," said I, "I could share your enthusiasm."

  "Ah, but you haven't seen it."

  "I know, but I don't even want to. If you'd come back raving about apiece of furniture or a jewel or a picture, I should have beeninterested. But a shawl... A shawl leaves me cold."

  "I agree," said Jonah. "I've learned to appear attentive to thedescription of a frock. I keep a special indulgent smile for theincoherence inspired by a hat. But when you pipe to me the praises ofa shawl--well, I'm unable to dance."

  "Wait till you see it," said Adele. "Besides, there were some lovelyrugs."

  "That's better," said I. "I like a good rug."

  "Well, these were glorious," said Jill. "They had the most lovelysheen. But, of course, the shawl..."

  "If anyone," said Jonah, "says that ugly word again, I shall scream."

  It was half-past nine of a very beautiful morning, and we werebreakfasting.

  The last two days had been wet. In the night, however, the clouds haddisappeared, leaving the great sky flawless, an atmosphere so rare astempted shy Distance to approach, and the mountains in all the powderedglory of their maiden snow.

  Seventy miles of magic--that is what Pau stares at. For the Pyrenees,viewed from this royal box, are purely magical. They do not rise sohigh--eleven thousand feet, as mountains go, is nothing wonderful.There is no might nor majesty about them--distant some thirty oddmiles. They are just an exquisite wall, well and truly laid, andcarved with that careless cunning of the great Artificer into thelikeness of some screen in Heaven.

  Where, then, is the magic? Listen. These mountains are never thesame. To-day they are very nigh; to-morrow they will stand fartherthan you have ever seen them. On Monday they will lie a mere ridgeabove the foot-hills; on Tuesday they will be towering, so that youmust lift up your eyes to find the summits. But yesterday youmarvelled at their stablishment; this morning they will be floatingabove the world. One week the clear-cut beauty of their lines andcurves gladdens your heart; the next, a mocking mystery of soft blurredbattlements will tease your vision. Such shifting sorcery is neverstale. Light, shade, and atmosphere play such fantastic tricks withPau's fair heritage that the grey town, curled comfortably in thesunshine upon her plateau's edge, looks not on one, but upon manyprospects. The pageant of the Pyrenees is never done.

  As for the wedding garment which they had put on in the night--it madeus all late for breakfast.

  The door opened to admit Berry.

  The look of resignation upon his face and the silence in which he tookhis seat where highly eloquent.

  There was no need to ask what was the matter. We knew. Big with theknowledge, we waited upon the edge of laughter.

  As he received his coffee--

  "I'm not going on like this," he said shortly. "It's insanitary."

  Adele's lips twitched, and Jill put a hand to her mouth.

  "I can't think how it is," said Daphne. "Mine was all right."

  "Of course it was," retorted her husband. "So was Adele's. So wasJill's. By the time you three nymphs are through, there's no hot waterleft."

  "That," said I, "is where the geyser comes in. The agent was at somepains to point out that it was an auxiliary."

  "Was he, indeed?" said Berry. "Well, if he'd been at some pains topoint out that it leaked, stank, became white-hot, and was generallyabout the finest labour-wasting device ever invented, he'd 've beennearer the mark. If he'd added that it wasn't a geyser at all, but across between a magic lantern and a money-box----"

  "Knack," said Jonah. "That's all it needs. You haven't got the hangof it yet."

  The savagery with which my brother-in-law attacked a roll was almostfrightening.

  "W-why money-box?" said Jill tremulously.

  "Because," said Berry, "it has to be bribed to devil you. Until you'veput ten centimes in the metre, you don't get any gas. It's a prettyidea."

  Adele began to shake with laughter.

  "You must have done something wrong," said I.

  Berry shrugged his shoulders.

  "Provided," he said, "that you are fairly active and physically fit,you can't go wrong. But it's a strain on one's sanity.... No, I don'tthink I'll have any omelet. They're so impatient."

  I decided to apply the spur.

  "But the agent showed us exactly----"

  "Look here," said Berry, "you enter that bathroom, clothed--after afashion--and in your right mind. Then you leave it for some matches.On your return you turn on the gas. After wasting four matches, youlaugh pleasantly, put on your dressing-gown again, and go about thehouse asking everyone for a ten-centime piece... This you place in theslot. Then you go out again and try to remember where you put thematches. By the time you're back, the whole room is full of gas, soyou open the window wide and clean your teeth to fill up the time.Long before it's safe you strike another match. The thing lights withan explosion that shortens your life.... In about two minutes it emitsa roaring sound and begins to shake all over. By now all the taps arered-hot, and, by the time you've burnt yourself to hell, you'rewondering whether, if you start at once, you'll have time to leave thehouse before the thing bursts. Finally, you knock the gas off with thecork mat....

  "After a decent interval you start again. This time you turn on thewater first. Stone cold, of course. When you've used enough gas toroast an ox, you hope like anything and reduce the flow." He paused topass a hand wearily across his eyes. "Have you ever seen Vesuvius ineruption?" he added. "I admit no rocks were discharged--at least, Ididn't see any. There may be some in the bath. I didn't wait tolook.... Blinded by the steam, deafened by the noise, you make a rushfor the door. This seems to have been moved. You feel all over thewalls, like a madman. In the frenzy of despair--it's astonishing howone clings to life--you hurl yourself at the bath and turn on bothtaps.... As if by magic the steam disappears, the roaring subsides,and two broad streams of pure cold water issue, like crystal founts,into the bath. Now you know why I'm so jolly this morning."

  With tears running down her cheeks--

  "You must have a bath in the dressing-room," wailed Daphne. "Theothers do."

  "I won't," said Berry. "It faces North."

  "Then you must have it at night."

  "Not to-night," I interposed. "Nobby's bagged it."

  With the laugh of a maniac, my brother-in-law requested that the factsshould be laid before the Sealyham, and the latter desired to waive hisrights.

  "Of course," he concluded, "if you want me to become verminous, justsay so."

  There was a shriek of laughter.

  "And now be quick," said Daphne, "or we shall be late for the meet.And I particularly want to see Sally."

  Sarah Featherstone was the possessor of the coveted shawl.

  We had met her by chance upon the boulevard two days before. No one ofus had had any idea that she was not in Ireland, whither she hadretired upon her marriage, and where her passion for hunting kept hermost of the year, and when we learned that she had already spent sixmonths in the Pyrenees, and would be at Pau all the winter, we couldhardly believe our ears. Her little son, it appeared, had been ailing,and the air of the Pyrenees was to make him well. So their summer hadbeen passed in the mountains, and, with three good hunters fromIreland, the winter was to be supported under the shadow of the healinghills.

  "It hurts me to think of Ireland, but I'm getting to love this place.I want the rain on my face sometimes, and the earth doesn't smell sosweet; but the sun's a godsend--I've never seen it before--and the airmakes me wan
t to shout. Oh, I've got a lot to be thankful for.Peter's put on a stone and a half to date, George'll be out forChristmas, and, now that you've come to stay..."

  We were all glad of Sarah--till yesterday.

  Now, however, she had set up a golden calf, which our womenkind wereworshipping out of all reason and convenience.

  At the mention of the false prophet's name, Jonah and I pushed back ourchairs.

  "Don't leave me," said Berry, "I know what's coming. I had it lastnight until I fell asleep. Then that harpy"--he nodded atDaphne--"dared to rouse me out of a most refreshing slumber to ask mewhether I thought 'the Chinese did both sides at once or one after theother.' With my mind running on baths, I said they probably began ontheir feet and washed upwards. By the time the misunderstanding hadbeen cleared up, I was thoroughly awake and remained in a hideous andagonising condition of sleepless lassitude for the space of one hour.The tea came sharp at half-past seven, and the shawl rolled up twentyseconds later. I tell you I'm sick of the blasted comforter."

  A squall of indignation succeeded this blasphemy.

  When order had been restored--

  "Any way," said Jill, "Sally says the sailor who sold it her 'll beback with some more things next month, and she's going to send himhere. He only comes twice a year, and----"

  "Isn't it curious," said Jonah, "how a sailor never dies at sea?"

  "Most strange," said Berry. "The best way will be to ask him to stayhere. Then he can have a bath in the morning, and we can bury himbehind the garage."

  * * * * *

  With that confident accuracy which waits upon a player only when it isuncourted, Jill cracked her ball across the six yards of turf and intothe hole.

  "Look at that," said Adele.

  Jonah raised his eyes to heaven.

  "And the game," he said, "means nothing to her. It never has. Yearsago she and I got into the final at Hunstanton. She put me dead on thegreen at the thirteenth, and I holed out. When I turned round to saywe were three up, she wasn't there. Eventually I found her looking forher iron. She'd laid it down, to start on a daisy chain."

  "I only put it down for a second," protested Jill, "and you must admitthe daisies were simply huge."

  "What happened?" said Adele, bubbling.

  "The daisy chain won us the match. She was much more interested in theformer, and actually continued its fabrication between her shots."

  We passed to the next tee.

  As I was addressing the ball--

  "Don't top it," said Jill.

  "Have I been topping them to-day?".

  "No, Boy. Only do be careful. I believe there's a lark's nest downthere, and it'd be a shame----"

  "There you are," said Jonah.

  "Now," said I, "I'm dead certain to top it."

  "Well, then, drive more to the right," said Jill. "After all, it'sonly a game."

  "I'll take your word for it," said I.

  Of course, I topped the ball, but at the next hole my grey-eyed cousindiscovered that our caddie had a puppy in his pocket, so we won easily.

  As we made for the club-house--

  "Only ten days to Christmas," said Adele. "Can you believe me?"

  "With an effort," said I. "It's almost too hot to be true."

  Indeed, it might have been a June morning.

  The valley was sleepy beneath the mid-day sun; the slopes of thesheltering foot-hills looked warm and comfortable; naked but unashamed,the woods were smiling; southward, a long flash spoke of the sunlitpeaks and the dead march of snow; and there, a league away, grey Pauwas basking contentedly, her decent crinoline of villas billowing abouther sides, lazily looking down on such a fuss and pother as might havebubbled out of the pot of Revolution, but was, in fact, the hospitablerite daily observed on the arrival of the Paris train.

  "I simply must get some presents," continued my wife. "We'll startto-morrow."

  I groaned.

  "You can't get anything here," I protested. "And people don't expectpresents when you're in the South of France."

  "That's just when they do," said Adele. "All your friends considerthat it's a chance in a lifetime, and, if you don't take it, they neverforgive you."

  "Well, I haven't got any friends," said I. "So that's that. And youused to tell me you had very few."

  "Ah," said Adele, "that was before we were engaged. That was to exciteyour sympathy."

  I appealed to my cousins for support.

  "Nothing doing," said Jonah. "If you didn't want this sort of thing,what did you marry for? For longer than I can remember you've seenyour brother-in-law led off like an ox to the shambles--he's therenow--financially crippled, and then compelled to tie up and addressinnumerable parcels, for the simple reason that, when they're at theshops Daphne's faculty of allotment invariably refuses to function."

  Jill slid an arm through her brother's, patted his hand affectionately,and looked at Adele.

  "If Boy breaks down," she said sweetly, "I'll lend you my ox. He'ssimply splendid at parcels."

  "You've got to find something to do up first," said I. "This isn'tParis."

  A colour was lent to my foreboding within the hour.

  As we sat down to luncheon--

  "Yes," said Berry, "my vixen and I have spent a delightful morning.We've been through fourteen shops and bought two amethyst necklets anda pot of marmalade. I subsequently dropped the latter in the PlaceRoyale, so we're actually twelve down."

  "Whereabouts in the Place Royale?" I inquired.

  "Just outside the Club. Everybody I knew was either going in or comingout, so it went very well indeed."

  There was a gust of laughter.

  "N-not on the pavement?" whimpered Jill.

  "On the pavement," said Daphne. "It was dreadful. I never was soashamed. Of course I begged him to pick it up before it ran out.D'you think he'd do it? Not he. Said it was written, and it was nogood fighting against Fate, and that he'd rather wash his hands of itthan after it, and that sort of stuff. Then Nobby began to lick itup.... But for Fitch, I think we should have been arrested.Mercifully, we'd told him to wait for us by the bandstand, and he sawthe whole thing."

  "It's all very fine," said her husband. "It was I who furnished andsuggested the use of the current issue of _Le Temps_, and, withoutthat, Fitch couldn't have moved. As it was, one sheet made a shroud,another a pall, and Nobby's beard and paws were appropriately wipedupon the ever-burning scandal of 'Reparations.'"

  "I gather," said Jonah, "that the dissolution of the preserve turned anindifferent success into a howling failure. Of course, I haven't seenthe necklets but..."

  "I can't pretend it's easy," said Daphne. "It isn't that there aren'tany shops----"

  "No," said Berry emphatically, "it isn't that."

  "--but somehow... Still, if we go on long enough, we shall findsomething."

  "That's it," said her husband. "We're going to put our backs into itthis afternoon. After we've done another twelve shops without buyinganything, we're going to have police protection. Not that we need it,you know, but it'll improve my morale."

  "If only Sally was here," said Jill, "she could have told us where togo."

  "If only her sailor would turn up," said Adele, "we might be able toget all our presents from him."

  "That's an idea," said Jonah. "What was the merchant's name?"

  Amid a buzz of excitement, Daphne sent for the letter which hadannounced Sarah Featherstone's departure from Pau. When it arrived,she read the material portion aloud.

  "_... George, can't get away, so Peter and I are going home forChristmas. We'll be back the first week in January. I've told theMarats that if Planchet (the sailor who sold me the shawl, etc.) turnsup before I get back, he's to be sent on to you. If he's got anythingextra-special that you're not keen on, you might get it for me..._"

  "Well, I never thought I should live to say it," said Berry, "but,after what I've gone through this morning, if Planchet were to
totterin this afternoon, laden with at once cheap and pretentious goods, Ishould fall upon his bull neck."

  "Who," said I, "are the Marats?"

  "They're the married couple who run the flat. I believe they'rewonderful. Sally says she never knew what service was before."

  "I do hope," said Jill, twittering, "they don't make any mistake."

  "I've no fear of that," said Adele. "I can't answer for the man,because we didn't see him, but Madame Marat's no fool."

  "Incidentally," said I, "it's one thing giving Planchet our address,but it's quite another persuading him to fetch up. He may have othersheep to shear."

  "We can only pray that he hasn't," said Daphne. "It's too much toexpect him to have another shawl, but I should like the first pick ofwhat he has."

  Berry regarded his wife.

  "If," he said, "you will swear to select from his wares all theblinkin' presents with which you propose to signalise this Yuletide,I'll--I'll tie them all up without a word."

  "Same here," said I. "Our gifts will cost us more, but we shall livethe longer."

  "Ditto," said Jonah.

  The girls agreed cheerfully, and, before luncheon was over, it had beendecided to give Planchet three days in which to make his appearance,and that, if he had not arrived by that time, then and then only shouldwe resort to the shops.

  Less than an hour had elapsed, and we were just about to make ready totake the air by the simple expedient of proceeding at a high speed inthe direction of Biarritz, when Falcon entered the room.

  "There's an individual, madam, 'as come to the door----"

  "Planchet? Is it Planchet?"

  "I'm afraid I can 'ardly say, madam, but 'e 'as this address upon apiece of note-paper, madam, and----"

  "All right, Falcon, I'll come."

  The butler's valiant endeavours to cope with the heritage of Babel werebetter known to us than he imagined. More than once his efforts toextract from strangers that information which was his due, and at thesame time, like a juggler of many parts, to keep the balls of Dignityand Courtesy rolling, had been overheard, and had afforded usgratification so pronounced as to necessitate the employment ofcushions and other improvised gags if our faithful servant's feelingswere to come to no harm.

  "I'll go," said Jill and Adele simultaneously.

  We all went, and we were all just in time to see our visitor precedethe Sealyham in the direction of the lodge.

  Aghast at such ill-timed pleasantry, we erupted pellmell into thedrive, all frantic by word or deed to distract the terrier from hispurpose. Shrieks, curses, and a copy of _La Fontaine's Fables_ werehurled simultaneously and in vain at our favourite, and it was Berry,to whom the fear of further acquaintance with the emporiums of Pau musthave lent wings, who actually overtook and discomfited the pursuer somethree yards from the road.

  It was with feelings of inexpressible relief that we presently beheldthe three returning--Berry alternately rebuking the Sealyham, who wasunder his arm, and apologising to his guest, the latter wide-eyed,something out of breath, and anything but easy, and Nobby apparentlytorn between an aggressively affectionate regard for his captor and astill furiously expressed suspicion of the stranger within our gates.

  As the trio drew nigh--

  "It is Monsieur Planchet," called Berry. "He's brought some things forus to see. His man's behind with a barrow."

  With beating hearts we trooped back into the house....

  As I returned from thrusting Nobby into a bedroom, Monsieur Planchet'shireling staggered into the hall, a gigantic basket-trunk poisedprecariously upon his hunched shoulders.

  The inspection was held in the drawing-room.

  It was rather late in the day to assume that nonchalant air which has,from time immemorial, adorned the armouries of all accomplishedhucksters.

  Our instant recognition of the salesman, our energetic solicitude forhis safety, and our obvious anxiety to dissociate ourselves from thepolicy of direct action adopted by the terrier, had not only betrayed,but emphasised, the fact that the sailor's arrival was very much to ourtaste. Clearly, if we did not wish to pay through the nose for what wepurchased, our only course was to feign disappointment when the wareswere produced.

  For what it was worth I circulated a covert recommendation of thiswile, which was acknowledged with sundry nods and inaudibleassurances--the latter, so far as Jill was concerned, too readily givento inspire me with confidence.

  Sure enough, when the lid of the trunk was lifted, and Planchet pluckedforth a truly exquisite rug and flung it dexterously across a chair, mygrey-eyed cousin let out a gasp which an infant in arms could not havemisinterpreted.

  There was only one thing to be done, and Daphne did it.

  With a heroic disregard for her reputation, she shook her head.

  "Too bright," she said shortly. "Don't you think so?" she added,turning to Berry.

  The latter swallowed before replying.

  "It's positively gaudy," he said gloomily.

  Planchet shrugged his shoulders and began to unfasten a bale....

  By the time seven more Persian rugs--all old and all more thanordinarily pleasing in design and colouring--were sprawling about thechamber, any organised depreciation was out of the question. Where allwere so beautiful, it required a larger output of moral courage thanany one of us could essay to decry the whole pack. By way of doing hisor her bit, everybody decided to praise one or two to the impliedcondemnation of the remainder. In the absence of collusion, it wasinevitable that those rugs which somebody had thus branded as goatsshould invariably include somebody else's sheep. The result was thatevery single rug had its following. A glance at their owner, who wasstanding aside, making no offer to commend his carpets, but fingeringhis chin and watching us narrowly with quick-moving eyes, showed thathe was solely engaged in considering how much he dared ask.

  I moved across to him.

  "You only come here twice a year?" I inquired.

  "That is so, _Monsieur_."

  "And how do you get these things? By barter?"

  "Yes, _Monsieur_."

  After a little encouragement, he explained that before each voyage helaid in a stock of knives, gramophones, mirrors, trinkets, and thelike, these to exchange with the natives in the bazaars of the smallerEastern ports at which his ship touched. From Bordeaux he used to setout, and to Bordeaux he as regularly returned. An aunt dwelling at Pauwas responsible for his selection of the town as a market for hisgoods. I should not have taken him for a sailor, and said as much.With a shy smile, he confessed that he was a steward, adding that hewas a landsman at heart, and that, but for the opportunities of tradingwhich his occupation presented he should go to sea no more.

  Suddenly--

  "What else have you got?" said Daphne.

  Six panels of Chinese embroidery--all powder-blue and gold, 'laboriousOrient ivories,' a gorgeous hanging that had been the coat of a proudmandarin, three Chinese mats, aged and flawless, a set of silkendoilies--each one displaying a miniature landscape limned with asubtlety that baffled every eye--one by one these treasures were laidbefore us.

  Even Jonah went down before the ivories.

  Ere the trunk was empty, we had, one and all, dropped our masks andwere revelling openly.

  "Now, isn't that beautiful?" "Sally's got a ball like that, but itisn't so big." "It's just as well she's in Ireland, or we shouldn'thave had those mats." "You know, that rug on the chair's a devilishfine one." "They all are." "Yes, but that--my dear fellow, it's thesort of rug they put in the window and refuse to sell, because it'ssuch an advertisement." "I'll tell you what, if we had those panelsmade into curtains, they'd look simply priceless in the drawing-room.""Give me the ivories."

  It was Adele who pulled the check-string.

  "What's the price of this rug?" she said quietly.

  There was an expectant and guilty hush.

  With a careless flourish we had called the tune--clamoured for it....If the piper's fee was exorbitant, we
had only ourselves to thank.

  Planchet hesitated. Then--

  "Five hundred francs, _Madame_."

  Ten pounds.

  You could have heard a pin drop.

  The rug was worth sixty. In Regent Street or Fifth Avenue we shouldhave been asked a hundred. If this was typical of Planchet's prices,no wonder Sally had plunged....

  I took out a pencil and picked up a pad of notepaper.

  "And the other rugs?" I inquired.

  "The same price, _Monsieur_."

  The rugs went down.

  Slowly, and without a shadow of argument, the prices of the othervaluables were asked, received, and entered.

  With a shaking hand I counted up the figures--eight thousand sixhundred francs.

  I passed the paper to Berry.

  "Will you pay him?" I said. "I haven't got enough at the bank here,and you can't expect him to take a foreign cheque."

  "Right oh!"

  "He may not want to part with them all at one house," said Daphne."You'd better ask him."

  Adele smiled very charmingly.

  "We like your pretty things very much," she said. "May we have whatyou've shown us?"

  Planchet inclined his head.

  "As _Madame_ pleases."

  I crossed to where he was standing and went through my list,identifying each article as I came to it, and making him confirm theprice. When we had finished, I insisted upon him checking my figures.He did so with some show of reluctance. The total, seemingly, was goodenough.

  When the reckoning was over, I hesitated.

  Then--

  "You know," I said slowly, "we'd have to pay much more than this in theshops."

  It seemed only fair.

  Planchet spread out his hands.

  "_Monsieur_ is very kind: but for me, I should not obtain more from themerchants. I know them. They are robbers. I prefer infinitely todeal with you."

  "All right. You don't mind a cheque?"

  "A cheque, _Monsieur_?"

  "Yes, on the bank here. We haven't so much money in the house."

  The little man hesitated. Nervously the big brown eyes turned from meto fall upon his possessions....

  "That's all right," said Berry. "The bank's still open. Fitch can runup in the car and get the money. He's probably had a dud cheque sometime or other. Anyway, considering he knows nothing of us, and Sally'sout of reach, I don't blame him."

  Such a way out of the difficulty was unanimously approved, and when Icommunicated our intention to Planchet, the latter seemed greatlyrelieved. It was not, he explained volubly, that he did not trust us,but when a poor sailor produced such a cheque to a bank....

  As Berry left to give the chauffeur his instructions--

  "Last time you came," said Daphne, "you brought a beautiful shawl.Mrs. Featherstone bought it."

  Planchet frowned thoughtfully. Then his face lighted with recollection.

  "Perfectly, _Madame_. I remember it. It was very fine. I haveanother like it at home."

  My sister caught her breath.

  "For sale?"

  "If _Madame pleases_." Adele and Jill clasped one another. "I willbring it to-morrow."

  With an obvious effort Daphne controlled her excitement.

  "I--we should like to have a look at it," she said.

  Planchet inclined his head.

  "To-morrow morning, _Madame_."

  Without more ado he packed up his traps, announced that, as he wasreturning on the morrow, there was now no occasion for him to wait forhis money, and, thanking us profusely for our patronage and assuring usthat he was ever at our service, summoned his employee and withdrewhumbly enough.

  It was fully a quarter of an hour before the first wave of our pent-upenthusiasm had spent itself. After a positive debauch ofself-congratulation, amicable bickering with regard to the preciseorder of precedence in which an antiquary would place our acquisitions,and breathless speculation concerning their true worth, we sank intositting postures about the room and smiled affectionately upon oneanother.

  "And now," said Berry, "what about tying them up?"

  "What for?" said Jill.

  "Well, you can't send them through the post as they are."

  "You don't imagine," said Daphne, in the horrified tone of one whorepeats a blasphemy, "you don't imagine that we're going to give thesethings away?"

  Berry looked round wildly.

  "D'you mean to say you're going to keep them?" he cried.

  "Of course we are," said his wife.

  "What, all of them?"

  My sister nodded.

  "Every single one," she said.

  With an unearthly shriek, Berry lay back in his chair and drummed withhis heels upon the floor.

  "I can't bear it!" he roared. "I can't bear it! I won't. It'sinsufferable. I've parted with the savings of a lifetime for a wholeroomful of luxuries, not one of which, in the ordinary way, we shouldhave dreamed of purchasing, not one of which we require, to not one ofwhich, had you seen it in a shop, you would have given a secondthought, all of which are probably spurious----"

  "Shame!" cried Jill.

  "----only to be told that I've still got to prosecute the mutuallyrevolting acquaintance with infuriated shopkeepers forced upon me thismorning. It's cruelty to animals, and I shall write to the Y.M.C.A.Besides, it's more blessed----"

  "I can't help it," said Daphne. "The man had absolutely nothing thatwould have done for anybody. If----"

  "One second," said her husband. "I haven't parsed that sentence yet.And what d'you mean by 'done for'? Because----"

  "If," Daphne continued doggedly, "we sent one of those rugs to someonefor Christmas, they'd think we'd gone mad."

  Berry sighed.

  "I'm not sure we haven't," he said. "Any way--" he nodded at Jonah andmyself--"I'll trouble each of you gents for a cheque for sixty pounds.As it is, I shall have to give up paying my tailor again, and what withLent coming on..." Wearily he rose to his feet. "And now I'm going tohave a good healthy cry. Globules the size of pigeons' eggs will wellfrom my orbs."

  "I know," said Jill. "These things can be our Christmas presents toone another."

  Berry laughed hysterically.

  "What a charming idea!" he said brokenly. "And how generous! I shallalways treasure it. Every time I look at my pass-book..."

  Overcome with emotion he stepped out of the room.

  A muffled bark reminded me that Nobby was still imprisoned, and I roseto follow my brother-in-law.

  As I was closing the door, I heard my wife's voice.

  "You know, I'm simply pining to see that shawl."

  * * * * *

  At ten o'clock the next morning the most beautiful piece of embroideryI have ever seen passed into our possession in return for theridiculously inadequate sum of two thousand francs.

  Obviously very old, the pale yellow silk of which the shawl was madewas literally strewn with blossoms, each tender one of them a work ofart. All the matchless cunning, all the unspeakable patience, all theinscrutable spirit of China blinked and smiled at you out of thosewonderful flowers. There never was such a show. Daring walkeddelicately. Daintiness was become bold. Those that wrought themarvel--for so magnificent an artifice was never the work of oneman--were painters born--painters whose paints were threads of silk,whose brushes, needles. Year after year they had toiled upon thesetwenty-five square feet of faded silk, and always perfectly. The thingwas a miracle--the blazing achievement of a reachless ideal.

  Upon both lovely sides the work was identical: the knottedfringe--itself bewildering evidence of faultless labour--was three feetdeep, and while the whole shawl could have been passed through abracelet, it scaled the remarkable weight of nearly six pounds.

  Daphne, Adele, and Jill with one voice declared that it was finer thanSally's. As for Berry, Jonah, and myself, we humbly withdrew suchadverse criticism as we had levelled at the latter, and derived analmost childish glee
from the possession of its fellow.

  It was, indeed, our joy over this latest requisition that stiffenedinto resolution an uneasy feeling that we ought to give Sally a sliceof our luck.

  After considerable discussion we decided to make her a present of thethree Chinese mats. She had bought three of Planchet upon his lastvisit, and those we had just purchased would bring her set up to six.Lest we should repent our impulse, we did them up there and then andsent them off by Fitch the same afternoon.

  * * * * *

  Christmas was over and gone.

  In the three days immediately preceding the festival, such popularitywith the tradesmen of the town as we had forfeited was more thanredeemed at the expense, so far as I was concerned, of an overdraft atthe bank. Absurdly handsome presents were purchased right and left.Adele's acquaintance was extremely wide. Observing that it was also inevery instance domiciled in the United States, with the density of amale I ventured to point out that upon the day which my wife's presentswere intended to enrich, all of them would indubitably be lying in thecustody of the French postal authorities. Thereupon it was gentlyexplained to me that, so long as a parcel had been obviously postedbefore Christmas, its contents were always considered to have arrived"in time"--a conceit which I had hitherto imagined to be the propertyof bookmakers alone. In short, from first to last, my wife wasinexorable. But for the spectacle of Berry and Jonah beingrelentlessly driven along the same track, life would have lost itssavour. Indeed, as far as we three were concerned, most of the workinghours of Christmas Eve were spent at the post office.

  The registration of a postal packet in France is no laughing matter.When a coloured form has to be obtained, completed, and deliberatelyscrutinised before a parcel can be accepted, when there is only onepen, where there are twenty-seven people in front of you--each with twoor more packages to be registered--when there is only one registrationclerk, when mental arithmetic is not that clerk's _forte_, when it isthe local custom invariably to question the accuracy first of thepostage demanded and then of the change received, when the atmosphereof the post office is germane to poison-gas, and when, you are bearingtwelve parcels and leading a Sealyham, the act of registration and itspreliminaries are conducive to heart-failure.

  The miniature of herself, however, with which my wife presented me onChristmas Day atoned for everything....

  And now--Christmas was over and gone.

  The New Year, too, had come in with a truly French explosion ofmerriment and good-will.

  It was, in fact, the fourth day of January, and, with the exception ofmy cousins, who were upon the links, we were proceeding gingerly downthe Rue du Lycee, en route for Lourdes, when my sister gave a cry andcalled upon me to stop.

  As I did so, I saw Mrs. Featherstone stepping towards us across theopen space which fronts the market.

  Berry climbed out of the dickey, and Adele and Daphne got out of thecar.

  As I followed them--

  "Sally, my dear," said Daphne, "I never knew you were back."

  "I wasn't, till this morning," panted Sally. "I only arrived at eight.For the last three hours I've been----"

  "Before you tell us anything," said Daphne, "we want to thank you.Since you've been away, Planchet's been. He's sold us the most lovelythings I've ever seen. We're so grateful to you, we don't know what todo."

  "Well, for goodness' sake," rejoined Sally, "insure them to-day. I'vejust been cleaned out of everything I've got."

  "Cleaned out?" cried Daphne. "D'you mean to say you've been robbed?"

  "That's right," said Sally. "Peter and I got back this morning to findthe Marats gone and the place stripped. Of course, the furniturebelonging to the flat's there, but the only decent things were what I'dadded, and those have vanished."

  "Not all the things you got from Planchet?"

  "Rather," said Sally. "Shawl and everything. Jolly, isn't it?"

  "What an awful shame!" cried Adele. "But who's taken them? Not theMarats?"

  "Must be," said Mrs. Featherstone. She nodded over her shoulder."I've just been to the police about it, but you know how hopeless theyare."

  "If I can do anything," said Berry, "you know I'd only be too happy..."

  "Thanks awfully," was the reply, "but to tell you the truth, I don'tsee what there is to be done. As far as I can make out, they leftbefore Christmas, so they've got a pretty good start."

  "I'm terribly sorry," said I. "Of course I never saw the goods, but,if they were anything like the things we bought, it's a cruel shame."

  Mrs. Featherstone laughed.

  "I do feel sore," she admitted. "The maddening part of it is, I meantto take the shawl home to show George, and then, in the rush at thelast, I left it out." She turned to my sister. "And you know Itrusted that couple implicitly."

  "I know you did."

  "The queer thing is, they seem to have suffered one solitary pang ofremorse. Did I show you those Chinese mats I was so crazy about?Well, after they'd gone, I suppose, their hearts smote them, becausethey did the three up and sent them back."

  For a moment we looked at one another.

  Then--

  "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sally," said Daphne gently, "but youmustn't give the brutes that credit. We sent you the mats as aChristmas present." Sally knitted her brows. "They're not yours. Webought them from Planchet. Directly I saw them, I thought howbeautifully they'd match yours, and we wanted you to have a set."

  Sally stared at her.

  "But I could have sworn-----"

  "I know," said Daphne. "It was because they were such a wonderfulmatch that we----"

  "What else did he sell you?"

  A sudden thought came to me, and I turned to catch Berry by the arm....As men in a film, he and I looked at one another with open mouths....

  Sublimely unconscious. Daphne and Adele were reciting the list of ourtreasures.

  Mrs. Featherstone heard them out solemnly. Then--

  "And what," she said, "does Planchet look like?"

  It became Daphne's turn to stare.

  I moistened my lips.

  "Slight, dark, clean-shaven, large brown eyes, nervous manner, scar onthe left temple--_or am I describing Marat?_"

  Sally spread out her hands.

  "To the life," she said simply.

  There was a dreadful silence.

  At length--

  "'Sold,'" I said slowly. "'By order of the trustees. Owner goingabroad.' Marat was with you when you bought them, of course? But whata smart bit of work!"

  Sally covered her face and began to shake with laughter. Daphne andAdele stared at her as if bewitched.

  At his third attempt to speak--

  "Well, that's topping," said Berry. "And now will you come back andget your things now, or shall we bring them over to-morrow? We'vetaken every care of them." He sighed. "When I think," he added,"that, but for my good offices, Nobby would have sent that treacherousdrawlatch away, not only empty, but with the modern equivalent of aflea in his ear, I could writhe. When I reflect that it was I whosupported the swine's predilection for hard cash, I could scream. Butwhen I remember that ever since our purchase of the shawl, my wife hasnever once stopped enumerating and/or indicating the many superioritieswhich distinguish it from yours, I want to break something." He lookedround savagely. "Where's a grocer's?" he demanded. "I want somemarmalade."