Safe Custody and Laughing Bacchante

by Dornford Yates

  The parrot, God be praised, was to stay on the yacht.

  The pinnace was coming now, so I picked up the battered cage and went down the steps.

  Then one of her crew was ashore and was holding her close to the stone.

  “Mr. Chandos?” said the jolly-faced coxswain.

  “That’s right. Take this bird, will you? He’s going aboard.”

  “Mais comme il est — ,” yelled the parrot.

  Before this gratuitous insult, the coxswain recoiled, and a roar of laughter behind me showed that intelligent anticipation was among the attributes of the customs of Trieste.

  The coxswain looked at me.

  “I ’ope ’e don’ talk no English.”

  I looked at him.

  “The French he affects,” I said, “seems to be understood.”

  The coxswain shrugged his shoulders.

  “One picks things up, sir,” he said.

  “Well, pick up that cage,” said I. “And take care he doesn’t get you.”

  “He’d better try,” said the coxswain. He seized the cage and set it down on a thwart. “Gorblime, if ’e ain’ done it.” He held up a welling thumb. “Jus’ look at that. Stuck his ’ead through the bars.”

  At this new misadventure, the glee of the customs officers knew no bounds. Dignity went to the winds, and two of them clasped one another in paroxysms of mirth. It was, I confess, the richest comedy, and had I been but an onlooker, I should have died of laughter to see such sport. But being in charge of the parrot, I could not savor the salt, and when I remembered Mansel, I felt quite mutinous.

  “I’m very sorry,” I said. “The brute isn’t mine; if it was, I’d open that door and let it go home.”

  “Wouldn’ ’ave to open the door, sir.”

  This was true. Had anyone squeezed its prison, the parrot would have gone free. And the cage was none too big. But so degraded a bird deserved to be meanly lodged.

  I stepped aboard the pinnace and took my seat.

  As was to be expected, the pinnace was very well found, and it had an elaborate awning against the power of the sun. Since I was on the port side, I hardly saw the yacht until after five or six minutes, there was her accommodation ladder approaching our starboard beam.

  As I got to my feet—

  “Shall I send the bird up, sir?”

  “Please. And see that he doesn’t get out. He isn’t mine.” The parrot made an extremely vulgar noise.

  I swung myself on to the ladder and, naturally, lifted my eyes. . . .

  Then a hand went up to my head, for Jenny, my blessed darling, was standing at the head of the steps.

  I forgot the parrot and Mansel; I forgot Colette and the gems. I had thought that she was in Wiltshire . . . had sent her a letter only the day before. And now here she was at Trieste, looking a million dollars in blue and white, with Sarah, her maid, behind her, smiling all over her face.

  And then she was in my arms . . . and the world about us was void, and time was standing still.

  Sitting at ease in a most luxurious stateroom, I told my darling all that there was to tell. And Jenny sat and listened, with one of my hands in hers and stars in her lovely eyes.

  An excellent lunch was served, but we let it go. But Sarah brought a tankard and set it down by my side.

  “Colette,” said Jenny when at last I had done. “I want to see her so much. I want to thank Colette for taking my place.”

  “She could never do that, my darling.”

  “I think she did terribly well. And of course she’s in love with you, William. Why shouldn’t she be?”

  “She isn’t, Jenny darling. If she had seen Palin first—”

  “I haven’t seen Palin,” said Jenny. “But if he compares with you, he must be a hell of a man.”

  “Oh, I give up,” said I. “You’re two of a kind. Just because I can bend an iron bar—”

  “I don’t think it’s that,” said Jenny. “I don’t quite know what it is. Jonathan’s greater than you, but I always loved you best.”

  “Listen, my blessed darling. I want you to understand this—that more than once I have had to make love to Colette. It wasn’t hard, for she is so very sweet; but I had to make love to her, because I could not send such a great heart away empty.”

  “I couldn’t have borne it if you had. She did what she did out of love; it would have been cruel, my darling, to give her nothing back. I am so rich, William, so very rich. Do you think that I can spare nothing to a girl who has comforted you?”

  I picked my wife up in my arms.

  “Jenny, there’s no one like you in all the world.”

  “I love to hear you say that.”

  “No one like you, my darling—and that’s the truth.”

  I kissed her and set her down . . .

  Then we read Mansel’s letter, which was, as always, very much to the point.

  Jenny sweetheart,

  Tomorrow at ten o’clock, you and Colette will come ashore with Bell. Bell will carry the parrot, which, I think perhaps you’ll agree, should have a new cage. William will be on the quay and will take you off to buy one, before you do anything else. Then he’ll bring you back to our inn. And there you will meet Jasper, whom I know you will like very much. I’m very sorry the parrot is so outspoken: I think perhaps you can reform him, given time.

  With all my love,

  Tuesday

  JONATHAN

  Time was now getting on, so I found an officer and asked that the pinnace might leave at half past four.

  “To pick up my servant, Bell, who is bringing my luggage aboard. And he’ll have a lady with him. I’m going ashore at five, but they’re going to spend the night.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Chandos. I’ll see to everything.”

  It was a quarter past five before the pinnace returned, but Colette and Bell and my luggage were all aboard.

  As he stepped on to the ladder, Bell’s eyes met mine—

  Wondering what was afoot, I greeted Colette.

  “Come, my beauty,” I said. “Before I go, you must meet the passenger.”

  “Oh, I’m nervous, Adam. I wish you could stay on the yacht.” She stopped and stood looking round. “What a lovely hall, Adam. I never knew they had halls on board a ship.”

  “Nor did I, my dear. I tell you, she’s opened my eyes.”

  I led her straight to the stateroom, and opened the door. Jenny was standing beyond, on the private deck.

  “Jenny, this is Colette. Colette, this is Eve.”

  I heard Colette catch her breath, and a hand went up to her mouth.

  Then my wife stretched out her arms, with a glorious smile on her face.

  Colette ran across the stateroom and caught Jenny’s hands to her breast.

  As Jenny stooped to kiss her, I shut the door.

  Bell was waiting in the passage.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “They’re on to something, sir. Had everything out of the cases and turned them inside out. Of course, I showed them the passports, but they only smiled. That’s why we’re so late—I had to repack in the shed.”

  I fingered my chin.

  “And here’s a show,” I said slowly. “Oh, well, it can’t be helped. I must get back to the inn as soon as I can. Look after madam; you’re under her orders now.”

  “Madam, sir? Not Mrs. Chandos?”

  Bell’s honest face was alight, as I had not seen it for weeks. “That’s right,” I said, smiling. “And Sarah’s somewhere about. As I say, you’re under her orders, but she is in your charge.”

  Mansel heard me out.

  Then—

  “I thought that might happen,” he said. “It’s all this cursed delay. If we could have had the yacht waiting, a week ago . . . Before the day is out, they’ll be watching this house. Germany’s split to Italy—two of a kind. Rather than let us have it, she’s ready to share the loot. But we’ll beat them yet, William. That’s where the parrot comes in. Did he make any sort of i
mpression?”

  “Impression’s too mild a term. Sensation might do. The customs had the time of their lives. There were only two to start with, but when I left the quay, there were four or five. And all of them laughing their souls out. I admit it was most amusing—for everyone else. But I do dislike being embarrassed. If that bird was a human being, he’d be in jug.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Mansel, laughing, “but you bear excellent news. I went to a lot of trouble to get that bird. I think you’ll admit that he’s quite exceptional. While you were squiring Colette, I was vetting parrots, until, at last, I found the bird I required. A foul-mouthed brute, whose enunciation was good. That bird, William, knows how to produce his voice.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  “And more than that—he’s vicious.”

  “I’ll give you that, too.”

  “Don’t say he got you, William?” I held up my hand. “Did the customs witness the outrage?”

  “Of course they did. When he bit the coxswain, too, they nearly fell off the quay.”

  “God be praised,” said Mansel. “I don’t deserve such luck.” He saw the look on my face and began to laugh. “And now you shall have the truth. When you hear it, I think you’ll forgive me, for you have done so much better than you could ever have done if I had put you wise.

  “Now what are we up against? We are very nearly home, and yet we stand in danger of losing everything. Something has been said, and the customs are up on their toes. So we’ve got to distract the customs—a difficult thing to do. And the very best way to distract is to attract the attention to something else. Now just because the parrot attracts their attention, they’re not going to chalk our baggage without seeing what’s inside. Parrot and baggage are two quite separate things. But if the parrot is making them split their sides, they may not look so hard at the parrot’s cage.

  “Tomorrow Jenny will purchase a nice new cage. I’ll tell you where to take her and I will show you the cage which she is to buy. They’re really beautiful cages—they’ve only got four left. I bought the fifth this morning—it’s in my room.

  “When Jenny has bought the cage, you will buy sand and seed and the parrot will enter in. And then you will all repair to The Heart of Gold. And while we are having a drink, Carson will effect the exchange. The parrot will leave his cage for the one I purchased this morning, and no one but we and the parrot will know that the change has been made. Jenny won’t know and the police outside won’t know—that the cage in which the bird comes to The Heart of Gold will not be the cage in which he returns to the yacht. Just to round the matter, no one will ever know . . . Last night I measured the depth of the water within the well. It’s a little more than twelve feet. So when Carson has made the exchange, he will take Jenny’s cage and drop it into the well.

  “A feature of these cages is their most excellent trays. The ordinary tray is really little more than a flimsy sheet of tin. But this is a proper tray, with sides all round, an inch and a half in height. And it’s very substantial, William. Then, again, the cage is capacious—twenty inches by twenty; that’s pretty big. So the gems will go into the tray without any fuss. In fact, we shall have to pad them—I’ve plenty of cotton wool. And that we shall do tonight, while honest men are asleep. Now when they are all in the tray, and nice and tight, we shall turn the cage upside down and slide the tray back. Then Carson will carefully solder the tray into place—just along the edge at the bottom, so that it can’t slip out. We shall then reverse the cage, which means that the gems will be resting upon its floor: and the tray, being upside down, will cover them up. In other words, the cage will have a false bottom, which we have contrived. Then the sand will go in, and if the Customs observe that the sand is unusually thick, then they’re better men than I am, and that’s God’s truth.”

  Perhaps because I am not at all ingenious, I thought and shall always think that the plan which Mansel had laid was a very fine piece of work. Many perhaps could think of a better and simpler way of unloosing our Gordian knot; but two things must be borne in mind—first, that though the gems should come safely aboard the yacht, the crew of the yacht must never suspect their presence; and second, that whatever plan we adopted must not jail. In other words, all possible risks must be foreseen and dealt with—by which I mean so much reduced that they ceased to deserve the name. For this was no ordinary smuggling of stockings or cigarettes; it was taking out of a country a wonder of all the world: and the stake was no fine—not even a prosecution . . . it was the loss to England of this astounding treasure, which now an English gentleman held in fee.

  Indeed, as I see it, Mansel had left nothing to chance. By taking the parrot aboard, I had acquainted the customs with that undesirable bird; they looked upon him with favor; he was for them a fellow of infinite jest. And they would be only too glad to see him again. What was more, they knew he was vicious, that he would be a brave man that laid hands on his cage. So tomorrow, when he came off, he would be well received; and when he went back to the yacht, he would be an old friend. And it was so very natural that two tender-hearted young ladies should buy him a nice new cage.

  A knock at the door, and Carson entered the room. “There’s a plain-clothes man on the inn, sir.”

  “I thought that was coming,” said Mansel. “It’s just as well we’re leaving. So long as he stays outside till tomorrow afternoon . . .”

  By half past two the next morning, the gems were safe in the cage. Mansel and I did the business, while Carson watched the watcher and Jasper watched the courtyard.

  Then we put sand in the cage, and water and seed in the bowls.

  The cage was now very heavy—no doubt about that; but, since it was all of brass, it was very heavy to start with. For all that, I made up my mind that Bell and I, between us, must handle the thing, for the coxswain would surely exclaim when he felt the weight.

  Then we put into the kit bag what was left of the wool and the solder, as well as the soldering iron; and having restored its weights, we made its mouth fast and let it fall into the well.

  Less than seven hours later, I drove to the quay. And, precisely at ten o’clock, the pinnace was at the steps.

  The customs were there to receive it—and had their reward.

  Colette followed Jenny out. Then Bell stepped ashore with the parrot, looking unusually grim.

  “Vive la — ,” shrieked the parrot, as Bell mounted the steps. “Vive la —

  The word which I have omitted is more than coarse. Never before, I should think, has so offensive a precept been so declared.

  The customs clasped one another and roared their delight.

  Colette was shaking with laughter, but Jenny frowned.

  “Darling,” she said, “we can’t go on like this. He must have another cage. This is no better than a hovel. I had him out this morning, and he was quite all right. But it’s when he’s in that cage that he says these dreadful things.”

  As though to confirm this conclusion, the parrot made the noise he had made the day before, on reaching the yacht. This was a new one on the customs, who laughed so much and so long that I had to laugh myself.

  “You see?” said Jenny. “We must get him out of that cage.”

  I took off my coat and threw it over the cage.

  “Into the car, sweetheart. I think I know of a shop. We’ll go there at once.”

  I drove, with Bell beside me, gingerly holding the parrot upon his knees. And twenty minutes later, the parrot had a new home.

  The bird was so much overcome by his new estate that he wasted no time upon words, but clambered all over his residence, proving the swing and the bars and tasting the seed and the water and treading the sand.

  “There you are,” said Jenny. “What did I say?”

  “You may be right, my darling. I’m not so sure. It’s a nice, new home, and he isn’t used to it yet. I think, when he’s settled down, the power of speech may return.”

  “Anyway, it’s worth it, to see the poor
bird so pleased.”

  “There,” said Colette, “I am with you. This passes his comprehension. It touches the heart to see his delight in that swing.”

  I confess I was bound to agree. The parrot’s pleasure was pathetic. Gurgling with laughter, he pushed the swing to and fro, and then he clambered within it and crowed with delight. The cage, which had cost four pounds, was cheap at the price.

  Then I drove to The Heart of Gold. And there were Mansel and Jasper, waiting to welcome us in.

  It was a great reunion, for Mansel adored Jenny, and Jasper worshiped Colette. Colette presented Jasper, who bowed over Jenny’s hand, but Jenny took his arm and made him walk with her while she spoke of Colette. What she said, I do not know, but Jasper’s face was transfigured when they came back. Then we all sat down in the garden, and Mansel called for wine. And, as though to round our pleasure, a telegram came from Palin to say that he hoped to arrive that evening at nine o’clock.

  “We shall be gone,” said Mansel, “for we must be aboard by eight. But I’ll leave a note for him.”

  “And so will I,” said Jenny. “Give me some paper, William. I’ll write it now.” And so she did, showing it to me as she wrote it and asking if I approved.

  Dear Andrew,

  I know you will make Colette happy. If you would like to make me happy, too, please bring her to stay at Maintenance very soon. I am very fond of her, and I think she is fond of me.

  Our best love to you both,

  JENNY CHANDOS

  Then she covered the letter and sealed it up.

  Mansel glanced at his watch.

  “It’s now past twelve,” he said, “and Jenny, Colette, and Bell should be getting back. I want Jasper to see the yacht, and he’s promised to go aboard at half past three. At five o’clock Colette and he will come off and will come back here. I’m sorry to be so dictatorial, but all our movements today must be made to time.”

  “Sir,” said Jasper, “you command my great admiration. You have the brain and the way of a chief of staff.”

  Five minutes later we were again in the car. And Bell and the parrot with us.

  It would not be true to say that when we reached the quay we were greeted with cheers; but the moment they saw the car, the customs began to grin and one of them ran for the others who were in some shed.