24. The Spirit of Unrest
During the following fortnight, two things happened which materiallyaltered Mike's position in the bank.
The first was that Mr Bickersdyke was elected a member of Parliament.He got in by a small majority amidst scenes of disorder of a natureunusual even in Kenningford. Psmith, who went down on the polling-dayto inspect the revels and came back with his hat smashed in, reportedthat, as far as he could see, the electors of Kenningford seemed to bein just that state of happy intoxication which might make them vote forMr Bickersdyke by mistake. Also it had been discovered, on the eve ofthe poll, that the bank manager's opponent, in his youth, had beeneducated at a school in Germany, and had subsequently spent two yearsat Heidelberg University. These damaging revelations were having amarked effect on the warm-hearted patriots of Kenningford, who were nowreferring to the candidate in thick but earnest tones as 'the GermanSpy'.
'So that taking everything into consideration,' said Psmith, summingup, 'I fancy that Comrade Bickersdyke is home.'
And the papers next day proved that he was right.
'A hundred and fifty-seven,' said Psmith, as he read his paper atbreakfast. 'Not what one would call a slashing victory. It is fortunatefor Comrade Bickersdyke, I think, that I did not send those very ablespeeches of his to the _Clarion'_.
Till now Mike had been completely at a loss to understand why themanager had sent for him on the morning following the scene about thecheque, and informed him that he had reconsidered his decision todismiss him. Mike could not help feeling that there was more in thematter than met the eye. Mr Bickersdyke had not spoken as if it gavehim any pleasure to reprieve him. On the contrary, his manner wasdistinctly brusque. Mike was thoroughly puzzled. To Psmith's statement,that he had talked the matter over quietly with the manager and broughtthings to a satisfactory conclusion, he had paid little attention. Butnow he began to see light.
'Great Scott, Smith,' he said, 'did you tell him you'd send thosespeeches to the papers if he sacked me?'
Psmith looked at him through his eye-glass, and helped himself toanother piece of toast.
'I am unable,' he said, 'to recall at this moment the exact terms ofthe very pleasant conversation I had with Comrade Bickersdyke on theoccasion of our chance meeting in the Turkish Bath that afternoon; but,thinking things over quietly now that I have more leisure, I cannothelp feeling that he may possibly have read some such intention into mywords. You know how it is in these little chats, Comrade Jackson. Oneleaps to conclusions. Some casual word I happened to drop may havegiven him the idea you mention. At this distance of time it isimpossible to say with any certainty. Suffice it that all has endedwell. He _did_ reconsider his resolve. I shall be only too happyif it turns out that the seed of the alteration in his views was sownby some careless word of mine. Perhaps we shall never know.'
Mike was beginning to mumble some awkward words of thanks, when Psmithresumed his discourse.
'Be that as it may, however,' he said, 'we cannot but perceive thatComrade Bickersdyke's election has altered our position to some extent.As you have pointed out, he may have been influenced in this recentaffair by some chance remark of mine about those speeches. Now,however, they will cease to be of any value. Now that he is elected hehas nothing to lose by their publication. I mention this by way ofindicating that it is possible that, if another painful episode occurs,he may be more ruthless.'
'I see what you mean,' said Mike. 'If he catches me on the hop again,he'll simply go ahead and sack me.'
'That,' said Psmith, 'is more or less the position of affairs.'
The other event which altered Mike's life in the bank was his removalfrom Mr Waller's department to the Fixed Deposits. The work in theFixed Deposits was less pleasant, and Mr Gregory, the head of thedepartment was not of Mr Waller's type. Mr Gregory, before joining thehome-staff of the New Asiatic Bank, had spent a number of years with afirm in the Far East, where he had acquired a liver and a habit ofaddressing those under him in a way that suggested the mate of a trampsteamer. Even on the days when his liver was not troubling him, he wastruculent. And when, as usually happened, it did trouble him, he was aperfect fountain of abuse. Mike and he hated each other from the first.The work in the Fixed Deposits was not really difficult, when you gotthe hang of it, but there was a certain amount of confusion in it to abeginner; and Mike, in commercial matters, was as raw a beginner asever began. In the two other departments through which he had passed,he had done tolerably well. As regarded his work in the PostageDepartment, stamping letters and taking them down to the post officewas just about his form. It was the sort of work on which he couldreally get a grip. And in the Cash Department, Mr Waller's mildpatience had helped him through. But with Mr Gregory it was different.Mike hated being shouted at. It confused him. And Mr Gregory invariablyshouted. He always spoke as if he were competing against a high wind.With Mike he shouted more than usual. On his side, it must be admittedthat Mike was something out of the common run of bank clerks. The wholesystem of banking was a horrid mystery to him. He did not understandwhy things were done, or how the various departments depended on anddove-tailed into one another. Each department seemed to him somethingseparate and distinct. Why they were all in the same building at all henever really gathered. He knew that it could not be purely from motivesof sociability, in order that the clerks might have each other'scompany during slack spells. That much he suspected, but beyond that hewas vague.
It naturally followed that, after having grown, little by little, underMr Waller's easy-going rule, to enjoy life in the bank, he now suffereda reaction. Within a day of his arrival in the Fixed Deposits he wasloathing the place as earnestly as he had loathed it on the firstmorning.
Psmith, who had taken his place in the Cash Department, reported thatMr Waller was inconsolable at his loss.
'I do my best to cheer him up,' he said, 'and he smiles bravely everynow and then. But when he thinks I am not looking, his head droops andthat wistful expression comes into his face. The sunshine has gone outof his life.'
It had just come into Mike's, and, more than anything else, was makinghim restless and discontented. That is to say, it was now late spring:the sun shone cheerfully on the City; and cricket was in the air. Andthat was the trouble.
In the dark days, when everything was fog and slush, Mike had beencontented enough to spend his mornings and afternoons in the bank, andgo about with Psmith at night. Under such conditions, London is thebest place in which to be, and the warmth and light of the bank werepleasant.
But now things had changed. The place had become a prison. With all theenergy of one who had been born and bred in the country, Mike hatedhaving to stay indoors on days when all the air was full of approachingsummer. There were mornings when it was almost more than he could do topush open the swing doors, and go out of the fresh air into the stuffyatmosphere of the bank.
The days passed slowly, and the cricket season began. Instead of beinga relief, this made matters worse. The little cricket he could get onlymade him want more. It was as if a starving man had been given ahandful of wafer biscuits.
If the summer had been wet, he might have been less restless. But, asit happened, it was unusually fine. After a week of cold weather at thebeginning of May, a hot spell set in. May passed in a blaze ofsunshine. Large scores were made all over the country.
Mike's name had been down for the M.C.C. for some years, and he hadbecome a member during his last season at Wrykyn. Once or twice a weekhe managed to get up to Lord's for half an hour's practice at the nets;and on Saturdays the bank had matches, in which he generally managed toknock the cover off rather ordinary club bowling. But it was not enoughfor him.
June came, and with it more sunshine. The atmosphere of the bank seemedmore oppressive than ever.
Psmith in the City Page 24
