A Damsel in Distress

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A Damsel in Distress Page 4

by P. G. Wodehouse


  CHAPTER 4.

  "Well, that's that!" said George.

  "I'm so much obliged," said the girl.

  "It was a pleasure," said George.

  He was enabled now to get a closer, more leisurely and much moresatisfactory view of this distressed damsel than had been his goodfortune up to the present. Small details which, when he had firstcaught sight of her, distance had hidden from his view, nowpresented themselves. Her eyes, he discovered, which he hadsupposed brown, were only brown in their general colour-scheme.They were shot with attractive little flecks of gold, matchingperfectly the little streaks of gold which the sun, coming out againon one of his flying visits and now shining benignantly once more onthe world, revealed in her hair. Her chin was square anddetermined, but its resoluteness was contradicted by a dimple andby the pleasant good-humour of the mouth; and a further softeningof the face was effected by the nose, which seemed to have startedout with the intention of being dignified and aristocratic but haddefeated its purpose by tilting very slightly at the tip. This wasa girl who would take chances, but would take them with a smile andlaugh when she lost.

  George was but an amateur physiognomist, but he could read what wasobvious in the faces he encountered; and the more he looked at thisgirl, the less he was able to understand the scene which had justoccurred. The thing mystified him completely. For all hergood-humour, there was an air, a manner, a something capable anddefensive, about this girl with which he could not imagine any manventuring to take liberties. The gold-brown eyes, as they met hisnow, were friendly and smiling, but he could imagine them freezinginto a stare baleful enough and haughty enough to quell such aperson as the silk-hatted young man with a single glance. Why,then, had that super-fatted individual been able to demoralize herto the extent of flying to the shelter of strange cabs? She wascomposed enough now, it was true, but it had been quite plain thatat the moment when she entered the taxi her nerve had momentarilyforsaken her. There were mysteries here, beyond George.

  The girl looked steadily at George and George looked steadily ather for the space of perhaps ten seconds. She seemed to George tobe summing him up, weighing him. That the inspection provedsatisfactory was shown by the fact that at the end of this periodshe smiled. Then she laughed, a clear pealing laugh which to Georgewas far more musical than the most popular song-hit he had everwritten.

  "I suppose you are wondering what it's all about?" she said.

  This was precisely what George was wondering most consumedly.

  "No, no," he said. "Not at all. It's not my business."

  "And of course you're much too well bred to be inquisitive aboutother people's business?"

  "Of course I am. What was it all about?"

  "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

  "But what am I to say to the cabman?"

  "I don't know. What do men usually say to cabmen?"

  "I mean he will feel very hurt if I don't give him a fullexplanation of all this. He stooped from his pedestal to makeenquiries just now. Condescension like that deserves somerecognition."

  "Give him a nice big tip."

  George was reminded of his reason for being in the cab.

  "I ought to have asked before," he said. "Where can I drive you?"

  "Oh, I mustn't steal your cab. Where were you going?"

  "I was going back to my hotel. I came out without any money, so Ishall have to go there first to get some."

  The girl started.

  "What's the matter?" asked George.

  "I've lost my purse!"

  "Good Lord! Had it much in it?"

  "Not very much. But enough to buy a ticket home."

  "Any use asking where that is?"

  "None, I'm afraid."

  "I wasn't going to, of course."

  "Of course not. That's what I admire so much in you. You aren'tinquisitive."

  George reflected.

  "There's only one thing to be done. You will have to wait in thecab at the hotel, while I go and get some money. Then, if you'lllet me, I can lend you what you require."

  "It's much too kind of you. Could you manage eleven shillings?"

  "Easily. I've just had a legacy."

  "Of course, if you think I ought to be economical, I'll gothird-class. That would only be five shillings. Ten-and-six is thefirst-class fare. So you see the place I want to get to is twohours from London."

  "Well, that's something to know."

  "But not much, is it?"

  "I think I had better lend you a sovereign. Then you'll be able tobuy a lunch-basket."

  "You think of everything. And you're perfectly right. I shall bestarving. But how do you know you will get the money back?"

  "I'll risk it."

  "Well, then, I shall have to be inquisitive and ask your name.Otherwise I shan't know where to send the money."

  "Oh, there's no mystery about me. I'm an open book."

  "You needn't be horrid about it. I can't help being mysterious."

  "I didn't mean that."

  "It sounded as if you did. Well, who is my benefactor?"

  "My name is George Bevan. I am staying at the Carlton at present."

  "I'll remember."

  The taxi moved slowly down the Haymarket. The girl laughed.

  "Yes?" said George.

  "I was only thinking of back there. You know, I haven't thanked younearly enough for all you did. You were wonderful."

  "I'm very glad I was able to be of any help."

  "What did happen? You must remember I couldn't see a thing exceptyour back, and I could only hear indistinctly."

  "Well, it started by a man galloping up and insisting that you hadgot into the cab. He was a fellow with the appearance of abefore-using advertisement of an anti-fat medicine and the mannersof a ring-tailed chimpanzee."

  The girl nodded.

  "Then it was Percy! I knew I wasn't mistaken."

  "Percy?"

  "That is his name."

  "It would be! I could have betted on it."

  "What happened then?"

  "I reasoned with the man, but didn't seem to soothe him, andfinally he made a grab for the door-handle, so I knocked off hishat, and while he was retrieving it we moved on and escaped."

  The girl gave another silver peal of laughter.

  "Oh, what a shame I couldn't see it. But how resourceful of you!How did you happen to think of it?"

  "It just came to me," said George modestly.

  A serious look came into the girl's face. The smile died out of hereyes. She shivered.

  "When I think how some men might have behaved in your place!"

  "Oh, no. Any man would have done just what I did. Surely, knockingoff Percy's hat was an act of simple courtesy which anyone wouldhave performed automatically!"

  "You might have been some awful bounder. Or, what would have beenalmost worse, a slow-witted idiot who would have stopped to askquestions before doing anything. To think I should have had theluck to pick you out of all London!"

  "I've been looking on it as a piece of luck--but entirely from myviewpoint."

  She put a small hand on his arm, and spoke earnestly.

  "Mr. Bevan, you mustn't think that, because I've been laughing agood deal and have seemed to treat all this as a joke, you haven'tsaved me from real trouble. If you hadn't been there and hadn'tacted with such presence of mind, it would have been terrible!"

  "But surely, if that fellow was annoying you, you could have calleda policeman?"

  "Oh, it wasn't anything like that. It was much, much worse. But Imustn't go on like this. It isn't fair on you." Her eyes lit upagain with the old shining smile. "I know you have no curiosityabout me, but still there's no knowing whether I might not arousesome if I went on piling up the mystery. And the silly part is thatreally there's no mystery at all. It's just that I can't tellanyone about it."

  "That very fact seems to me to constitute the makings of a prettyfair mystery."

  "Well, what I mean is, I'm not a princess in disguise trying toes
cape from anarchists, or anything like those things you readabout in books. I'm just in a perfectly simple piece of trouble.You would be bored to death if I told you about it."

  "Try me."

  She shook her head.

  "No. Besides, here we are." The cab had stopped at the hotel, and acommissionaire was already opening the door. "Now, if you haven'trepented of your rash offer and really are going to be so awfullykind as to let me have that money, would you mind rushing off andgetting it, because I must hurry. I can just catch a good train,and it's hours to the next."

  "Will you wait here? I'll be back in a moment."

  "Very well."

  The last George saw of her was another of those exhilarating smilesof hers. It was literally the last he saw of her, for, when hereturned not more than two minutes later, the cab had gone, thegirl had gone, and the world was empty.

  To him, gaping at this wholly unforeseen calamity the commissionairevouchsafed information.

  "The young lady took the cab on, sir."

  "Took the cab on?"

  "Almost immediately after you had gone, sir, she got in again andtold the man to drive to Waterloo."

  George could make nothing of it. He stood there in silentperplexity, and might have continued to stand indefinitely, had nothis mind been distracted by a dictatorial voice at his elbow.

  "You, sir! Dammit!"

  A second taxi-cab had pulled up, and from it a stout, scarlet-faced young man had sprung. One glance told George all. The huntwas up once more. The bloodhound had picked up the trail. Percy wasin again!

  For the first time since he had become aware of her flight, Georgewas thankful that the girl had disappeared. He perceived that hehad too quickly eliminated Percy from the list of the Things ThatMatter. Engrossed with his own affairs, and having regarded theirlate skirmish as a decisive battle from which there would be norallying, he had overlooked the possibility of this annoying andunnecessary person following them in another cab--a task which, inthe congested, slow-moving traffic, must have been a perfectlysimple one. Well, here he was, his soul manifestly all stirred upand his blood-pressure at a far higher figure than his doctor wouldhave approved of, and the matter would have to be opened all overagain.

  "Now then!" said the stout young man.

  George regarded him with a critical and unfriendly eye. He dislikedthis fatty degeneration excessively. Looking him up and down, hecould find no point about him that gave him the least pleasure,with the single exception of the state of his hat, in the side ofwhich he was rejoiced to perceive there was a large and unshapelydent.

  "You thought you had shaken me off! You thought you'd given me theslip! Well, you're wrong!"

  George eyed him coldly.

  "I know what's the matter with you," he said. "Someone's beenfeeding you meat."

  The young man bubbled with fury. His face turned a deeper scarlet.He gesticulated.

  "You blackguard! Where's my sister?"

  At this extraordinary remark the world rocked about George dizzily.The words upset his entire diagnosis of the situation. Until thatmoment he had looked upon this man as a Lothario, a pursuer ofdamsels. That the other could possibly have any right on his sidehad never occurred to him. He felt unmanned by the shock. It seemedto cut the ground from under his feet.

  "Your sister!"

  "You heard what I said. Where is she?"

  George was still endeavouring to adjust his scattered faculties.He felt foolish and apologetic. He had imagined himself unassailablyin the right, and it now appeared that he was in the wrong.

  For a moment he was about to become conciliatory. Then therecollection of the girl's panic and her hints at some troublewhich threatened her--presumably through the medium of this man,brother or no brother--checked him. He did not know what it was allabout, but the one thing that did stand out clearly in the welterof confused happenings was the girl's need for his assistance.Whatever might be the rights of the case, he was her accomplice,and must behave as such.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

  The young man shook a large, gloved fist in his face.

  "You blackguard!"

  A rich, deep, soft, soothing voice slid into the heated scene likethe Holy Grail sliding athwart a sunbeam.

  "What's all this?"

  A vast policeman had materialized from nowhere. He stood besidethem, a living statue of Vigilant Authority. One thumb restedeasily on his broad belt. The fingers of the other hand caressedlightly a moustache that had caused more heart-burnings among thegentler sex than any other two moustaches in the C-division. Theeyes above the moustache were stern and questioning.

  "What's all this?"

  George liked policemen. He knew the way to treat them. His voice,when he replied, had precisely the correct note of respectfuldeference which the Force likes to hear.

  "I really couldn't say, officer," he said, with just that air ofhaving in a time of trouble found a kind elder brother to help himout of his difficulties which made the constable his ally on thespot. "I was standing here, when this man suddenly made hisextraordinary attack on me. I wish you would ask him to go away."

  The policeman tapped the stout young man on the shoulder.

  "This won't do, you know!" he said austerely. "This sort o' thingwon't do, 'ere, you know!"

  "Take your hands off me!" snorted Percy.

  A frown appeared on the Olympian brow. Jove reached for histhunderbolts.

  "'Ullo! 'Ullo! 'Ullo!" he said in a shocked voice, as of a goddefied by a mortal. "'Ullo! 'Ullo! 'Ul-lo!"

  His fingers fell on Percy's shoulder again, but this time not in amere warning tap. They rested where they fell--in an iron clutch.

  "It won't do, you know," he said. "This sort o' thing won't do!"Madness came upon the stout young man. Common prudence and thelessons of a carefully-taught youth fell from him like a garment.With an incoherent howl he wriggled round and punched the policemansmartly in the stomach.

  "Ho!" quoth the outraged officer, suddenly becoming human. Hisleft hand removed itself from the belt, and he got a businesslikegrip on his adversary's collar. "Will you come along with me!"

  It was amazing. The thing had happened in such an incredibly briefspace of time. One moment, it seemed to George, he was the centreof a nasty row in one of the most public spots in London; the next,the focus had shifted; he had ceased to matter; and the entireattention of the metropolis was focused on his late assailant, as,urged by the arm of the Law, he made that journey to Vine StreetPolice Station which so many a better man than he had trod.

  George watched the pair as they moved up the Haymarket, followed bya growing and increasingly absorbed crowd; then he turned into thehotel.

  "This," he said to himself; "is the middle of a perfect day! And Ithought London dull!"

 

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