And Berry Came Too

by Dornford Yates

  “But we’ve lost it now,” screamed her husband. He pointed at me. “That Napoleon’s spent our money…on a filthy set of roach-backed stools that—”

  “Rot,” said Daphne. “They mayn’t be what we wanted, but they’re very good-looking chairs.”

  “As you please,” said Berry. “I’m not going to argue the point. The unsavoury fact remains that, wisely or unwisely, we have expended the money we never had. In these – to me, repugnant circumstances, I repeat my desire to be informed why we are lunching here instead of at home.”

  “Because of the table,” said Jill. “We’ve still got fifty pounds left.”

  Berry closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. “Oh, give me strength,” he said brokenly. Then he turned to the Knave. “They’re going back,” he said wildly. “Back to the shambles, old fellow. Back to the lucky dip. I wonder what they’ll get this time.” He laughed idiotically. “Perhaps it’ll be a what-not.”

  Pleased with his confidence, the Knave rolled on to his back and put his paws in the air.

  “I entirely agree,” said Berry. “I give them up,” and, with that, he covered his face and once more lay back upon the sward.

  “We must bid for the table,” said Daphne, “exactly as we arranged. We’ve still got three hundred pounds, for we’ve only to sell the chairs. As a matter of fact, we’ve got more. I quite expect that in London they’d go for double the price.”

  “We can’t risk that,” said Jonah. “We must dispose of the chairs before the table comes up. It’s simple enough. We find the runner-up – the fellow that Boy outbid. He’ll take them off us all right – at two hundred and forty-five pounds. Two hundred and fifty perhaps, and glad of the chance.”

  My sister fingered her lip.

  “It does seem a pity,” she said. “I’m sure if we sold them in London, they’d fetch much more.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” said Jonah. “I believe Boy’s done a good deal. But, as I say, we can’t risk it. If we are to go for that table, we must first get rid of those chairs.”

  There was a little silence – devoted to speculation of a fantastic sort. If the chairs were worth five hundred and the table was going to go to four hundred and ninety pounds…

  “May I speak?” said Berry. “I mean would it be in order for me to refer to the projected disposal of my property and the laying out of the proceeds on something else?”

  “If,” said Daphne, “you’ve anything useful to say.”

  “That’s a moot point,” said her husband. “Some might think it uncalled-for. Others might rank it above the drippings of wisdom with which we have just been regaled. But I leave it to you to judge. I gather that you wish to exchange the six chairs we now possess for the table we set out to buy. Unless I am permitted to attempt this operation without any sort of interference from any of you, don’t count on a farthing from me, either towards the chairs or towards any other commitment which you may presently make.”

  The ultimatum took us aback.

  “This is blackmail,” said Daphne.

  “It isn’t really,” said Berry, “but I think I know what you mean. I am putting upon you a pressure before which, placed as you are, you are practically bound to give way.”

  “But that isn’t fair.”

  “Possibly not,” was the answer, “from your point of view. From mine, it’s a measure of what is called self-preservation. I don’t want what happened this morning to happen again. I do not want to be ruined, because somebody else has an urge to ‘act for the best.’ Myself, I think it’s natural – I may be wrong.”

  “I think it’s most natural,” said I, “and I agree to your terms. If ever there was one, this is a one-man job, and you can’t do worse than I have, whatever you do.”

  “That,” said my brother-in-law, “remains to be seen. But pray forget any strictures which I may have passed on your deal and accept one of my cigarettes – which are still in the car. I don’t suggest you should get them. There’s no reason why you should.”

  The Knave went with me…

  I had entered and left the coach-house, recrossed the sunlit forecourt and re-entered the cool of the hall, when I heard the brush of a tire on the gravel outside. As I turned, a magnificent car came slowly to rest some three or four paces away from the door of the inn. Faintly surprised, curious to see its contents, and well aware that, because of the glare without, I could not be seen, I stood where I was, waiting.

  At once there emerged from the car as unpleasant-looking a being as ever I saw. His appearance was so startling and repulsive that I put down a hand to the Knave for fear that the dog, so confronted, would launch an attack. As I did so, I heard him growl, and, as I sought for his collar, I found the hackles risen along his chine. The dog may be forgiven. The creature that he was regarding suggested a clothed baboon.

  I heard him address his chauffeur.

  “You will go straight to Hammercloth – that is the village to come. Mr Aaron is there – at the Hall. But you will not drive up to the house nor go near the inn. Turn back when you see the big gates and wait for Mr Aaron a little way off. When he has arrived, bring him here.”

  As I left the house for the garden, I heard the car leave the forecourt and then its master’s voice demanding a private room.

  Berry was where I had left him, but the others had strolled away and were not to be seen. I took my seat by his side and made him free of my news. He listened carefully.

  “A baboon,” he said. “What a most remarkable thing. I wonder if he’s blue-based… Never mind. The sale, of course… He’s after that table or something. But he daren’t show up himself, so Aaron is taking his place. And Aaron is coming to report, as soon as they rise for lunch.”

  “Why daren’t he show up?” said I.

  “Because he is too well known to get anything cheap. The moment he shows his mug the dealers sit up: and if he begins to bid, they know that they’re on a winner and take him up.” He fingered his chin. “I wonder what time they’ll rise. I’d like to see Mr Aaron, and I’d like very much indeed to hear his report.”

  Though all this was pure speculation, it might have been a statement of fact. My brother-in-law had been speaking not so much with conviction as though he were repeating some information received, and though my reason told me that he might be entirely wrong, his quiet recital went far to compel belief.

  As though he could read my thoughts–

  “I know I’m right,” said Berry. “The moment you said ‘baboon,’ I knew we were off. Fate’s always pointing her finger, but we’re too blind to see it until too late. Very, very rarely man is permitted to perceive the obvious in time. Once before, it happened to me. And now for the second time… Didn’t I say this morning that I should value the ruling of a baboon? Well, here we are. Here’s the baboon I spoke of…whose ruling is of such value that he dare not show up at the sale…” He broke off, to gaze at the distance with narrowed eyes. “What I cannot see is how his ruling will help us. To know that he’s after that table won’t help us at all. It’s money, not ruling we need… Get hold of Jonah, will you? We must know when Aaron arrives, and we’ll have to take it in turns to picket that hall.”

  The spin of a coin had decided that my second turn of duty should start at a quarter past one. It was then that I relieved Jonah, who had spent his time in the coach house, ready to cross the forecourt the moment he heard the big car. Myself, I thought it better to stay in the hall, for Aaron had only to see me to know me at once for the man who had bid from the window an hour or so back. And that would put him on his guard. But the hall was dim, and the staircase, passage and garden offered three lines of retreat. It was, of course, still more important that Aaron’s repulsive master should entertain no suspicion that Aaron was being awaited by anyone else.

  The man had been given a room whose windows gave to the forecourt, whose door to the hall. So much Berry had discovered. With my eyes on that door, I hovered between my three exits. Mercifully,
the staff was still busy about our lunch.

  A third of my duty was past when I saw the door handle move. In a flash I had gained the stairs which rose in two flights. Out of view, on the second flight, I stood like some escaped convict, straining my ears.

  For a moment I heard no sound: and then the man was moving – moving very softly, as though he did not wish to be heard.

  I fell to my hands and knees and peered between the staves of the balustrade.

  More simian in appearance than ever, the fellow was treading a-tiptoe, poking his head and listening with every step. What on earth had aroused his suspicions, I cannot conceive; but something – some horrid instinct had suggested that I was at hand: he was out to prove this suggestion… Failure would discredit his instinct and send him back to his room with an easy mind: success would ruin such plans as Berry had laid and would so humiliate me as to shorten my life.

  I watched him survey the passage and steal to the garden-door. As he leaned into the garden, I climbed the remaining stairs and took my stand on the landing, back to the wall. So for perhaps thirty seconds. Then I heard the rap of a stair rod against its eye…

  I threw one frantic look round – and read my doom. Though the landing was none too big, it gave to a promising passage which would, I am sure, have offered some way of escape. But I could not gain the passage, unless I crossed the head of the stairs. As it was, I was in a blind alley some twelve feet square, in which were two doors and a window, all three of them shut.

  For an instant, I hesitated. Then I slid to the nearest door, opened it noiselessly and glided within the room. In a flash I had shut the door and was standing with my ear to the frame. As I held my breath, I heard a board creak upon the landing…

  And then and there, I think, the fellow’s suspicions were laid, for he let out a satisfied grunt and a moment later I heard him descending the stairs.

  As I wiped the sweat from my face—

  “Won’t you sit down?” said a voice. “Your sigh of relief suggests that the danger is past.”

  As in a dream, I was gazing at Perdita Boyte, who was looking extremely lovely and lying at ease in a bed, with three or four pillows behind her and a novel, face down, on her lap.

  “Perdita?” I breathed, staring. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “The same to you,” said Perdita. “This is my room.”

  Quietly I told her my tale.

  “But I shan’t say I’m sorry,” I concluded, “because I’m an honest man. I’m much too glad to see you. The pity is I’m not Herrick. To Julia, abed, would have been a sonnet worth reading. Oh, and who says Fate doesn’t know best? First, she brings us here and then she fairly hounds me into your room.”

  “It does look like it,” said Perdita. “Mother and I were en route and I ricked my back. Yesterday evening, that was, and this was the nearest inn. The silly part is that she’s gone to call upon you, to ask you to do what you’ve done. Visit the sick, I mean. The doctor says I’ll be here for another two days. But all that can wait for the moment. If you really want the ruling of your baboon, I should stay where you are: they asked me if, as mother was out, the fellow could lunch in our room: and I said ‘yes.’ Well, that room’s directly below us, and the ceiling is very thin. If he and Aaron speak up, you’ll hear every word.”

  “Good lord,” said I. “What a chance! All the same, I don’t like eavesdropping. I mean—”

  “Don’t be a fool,” said Perdita. “Quite apart from anything else, you may bet your happy days that a man who is so suspicious is up to no good.”

  With her words came the sound of a car, and a moment later the crunch of tires upon gravel declared that the curtain was up.

  The baboon was out in the forecourt before I had reached the window commanding the scene.

  Oozing servility, a willowy, pale-faced youth emerged from the limousine – to be met with a glare which would have made a lion tamer think.

  “What does this mean? Where’s Aaron?” Hat in hand, the unfortunate creature blenched. “I’m very sorry, Mr Stench, but Mr Aaron is ill – with stomachic pain. So he gave me your catalogue and—”

  With a working face, his master turned right about and blundered into the inn. The other followed delicately, goggle-eyed…

  I tiptoed to Perdita’s side.

  As I opened my mouth, she laid a hand on my arm.

  “Stay with me, please. I—”

  From below, the voice of a brute cut her sentence in two.

  “Have you got the things?”

  “Every lot but one, Mr Stench, so far. And all well below your figures. If I may say so, I think we’ve done—”

  “Which one did you lose?”

  “The set of chairs, Mr—”

  A howl of anguish rang out.

  “All but the chairs? That’s what you came for, you blockhead – to buy those chairs.”

  “I’m sure I’m very sorry, Mr Stench, but it wasn’t my fault. I went to the figure you’d written down in the margin, and just as I thought—”

  “What did they go for?”

  “Two hundred and fifty pounds.”

  For a moment there was dead silence. Then came a hideous sound – a gobbling noise…

  As I turned to meet the horror in Perdita’s eyes, Aaron’s unfortunate deputy voiced his dismay.

  “Don’t, Mr Stench,” he whimpered. “What have I done?”

  His master spoke through his teeth.

  “Look at that, you blundering idiot.”

  “What about it, Mr Stench? Two hundred and – Oh, my God, Mr Stench, that isn’t a ‘one’?”

  “That is a ‘one.’ One before two makes twelve. One thousand two hundred and fifty is what I wrote. I’ve as good as sold those chairs for two thousand pounds, and you’ve let some country counterjumper…”

  I think that was all I heard: at least, I remember no more – except the blaze of excitement in Perdita’s glorious eyes.

  “Go and buy your table,” she breathed. “And – and then, if you please, come back and revisit the sick. The sick will be very grateful. I don’t know that they can promise to make your fortune again, but—”

  “The light in your eyes is my fortune, you pretty maid.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not legal tender. Goodbye, Herrick.”

  “There’s plenty of time,” said I, and picked up her fingertips. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”

  “Business first,” said my lady, and whipped her fingers away. “You’ve got to be clear of this house before the deputy Aaron comes out of that room.”

  “I don’t believe Julia would have—”

  “If you don’t go,” said Perdita, “I shall call Mr Stench.”

  It was nearly a quarter to four before the table came up: but though the seats in the saleroom were painfully hard, our discomfort of body was salved by our peace of mind. The chairs I had bought had passed – and I had a note of hand for one thousand pounds.

  As was only to be expected, Mr Stench’s man had approached me the moment he saw my face and had offered to purchase my ‘bargain’ for ‘a five-pound note.’ Such impudence steeled my heart and I had but little compunction in making him climb the steps which I knew as well as he he was ready to tread.

  Imperceptibly the room had grown full. From where I was sitting with Berry, I could no longer set eyes upon Daphne and Jill. They were, I knew, close to the door, because of the Knave – who had found the fall of the hammer matter for wrath. Jonah, who had been beside us, had left his seat for a moment to lose it for good. When I saw him next, he was standing some ten feet away on the edge of the press.

  Not to be defeated by distance, he sent me a little note.

  We’re in for a fight all right. At least five London dealers are now in the room.

  I passed it to Berry and took another look round.

  On the farther side of the table a thick-set Jew was making his neighbour free of spurts of confidential information which the other steadfastly ignor
ed. A comfortable lady in black alternately toyed with her pencil and set her chin on her shoulder to speak with a hatchet-faced man who was stooping behind. A nice-looking fellow in grey, directly facing the rostrum, bid from time to time with a whimsical smile. The picture of despair, a Jew of some seventy summers, continually looked about him, as though he were caged and were seeking some way of escape. Occasionally he bid – agonizedly. Seated almost below the rostrum, a jolly-faced man in blue maintained a cheerful conversation with some crony behind his chair, only interrupting this communion to nod to the auctioneer – a curious contrast to his neighbour, who tiny, bespectacled, bird-like, stared with an air of indignation on all he saw.

  “Lot four hundred and six,” said the auctioneer.

  A ripple of preparation ran through the room.

  Throats were cleared, lips moistened, feet moved: glasses were adjusted: men settled themselves on their chairs, and those that were standing strove to improve their view.

  Silence followed. Even the man in blue suspended his flow of soul.

  “A fine oak table. May I say – Three hundred, thank you. I’m bid three hundred pounds.”

  “Whose bid?” whispered Berry.

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see.”

  “And ten… Twenty… Thirty… Forty…”

  The auctioneer’s head was flicking from side to side. In vain I endeavoured to see from whom the bids came.

  “Three hundred and ninety pounds.”

  “Four hundred,” said a man in pince-nez, with his hat on the back of his head.

  “That fellow there,” I whispered, “with his catalogue up to his nose.”

  “Four hundred, thank you. And ten… Twenty… Thirty…”

  “Who’s bidding against him?” breathed Berry.

  In vain I tried to follow the eye of the auctioneer.

  “Can’t you see who’s against him?” – irritably.

  “I tell you I can’t,” I breathed. “I’m doing my best.”

  “Five hundred pounds. And ten…”

  My sister’s face appeared – between two bowler hats on the edge of the press. Her eyes flung some frantic question of which, of course, I took no notice at all. At the moment the slightest gesture would have been read as a bid. When I ventured to look again, she had disappeared.