As at last we rose—
“And you were his Marshal?” said Perdita.
“I was,” said the Judge. “When he went circuit, he always rode on horseback the whole of the way.” He glanced at the open windows. “We rode into Brooch one evening as lovely as this. We were very tired and thirsty, and he threw himself down on those cushions and called for beer. When the beer came it was sour and he’d pitched it out of that window before I could think. A quart of sour beer… And a maid was standing below in a brand-new gown… I had to say I’d done it – that’s what the Marshal’s for. And he had the girl up and he dressed me down before her – he never did things by halves.”
And there I saw his face change. For a moment he appeared to consider: then a look of understanding entered his eyes, the smile on his lips seemed to tremble, and a hand went up as though to conceal his mirth.
And then I saw Berry’s face…and followed his gaze.
His eyes alight with mischief, the Knave was looking at us from the foot of the stairs: in his mouth was a buckled slipper, such as Sir Joseph was wearing three days before.
4
How Daphne was Given a Present,
and Jonah Took off His Coat
Dusk had come into the panelled dining-room, and the radiance the candles lent to the tablecloth made bold, as the bark of a puppy, to speed the parting day. And something else it did. It showed to great advantage the beauty that graced our board. On my left, my sister, Daphne, recalled the dark perfection of Reynolds’ days: on my right, my golden-haired cousin remembered those pretty princesses that live in the fairy-tales: on the other side of the table, the natural and lively sweetness of Perdita Boyte suggested a hamadryad acquainted with Vanity Fair. One other thing held the eye – and that was the pink champagne. The table was jewelled with six little rose-coloured pools, that caught the sober light and made it dance and sparkle with infinite mirth.
“I’m all disappointed,” said Perdita. “White Ladies ought to have a ghost. I mean, if ever there was a house…”
“That,” said Berry, “is what I have always said. This place would be stiff with ghosts – if there were such things.”
“But there are,” said his wife. “Just because you don’t happen to have seen one—”
“Neither have you,” said Berry. “None of us have.”
“I know people who have,” said I.
“Who say they have,” said Berry. “But they’re always short of a witness to bear them out.”
“There’s Abbess’ Oak,” said Jill.
“A legend,” said Berry, “that no one on earth can confirm.”
“I dare you,” said I, “to stand alone under that tree for a quarter of an hour on end on a winter’s night.”
My brother-in-law frowned.
“Certainly not,” he said. “I don’t believe in apparitions, but I do believe in a presence you cannot see. And that can be most disconcerting.”
“Then you do believe the legend,” said Jonah.
“No, I don’t,” said Berry, “but I’m not going to take any risks. If by chance it was true, the lady would resent my intrusion, and I don’t want any spirits biting my neck.”
“Bigot,” said Daphne. “You value your unbelief.”
“He’s none to value,” said I. “You ought to have been at Cockcrow, when they wanted to put him to sleep in the haunted room.”
Berry addressed Miss Boyte.
“Happily,” he said, “I am proof against the darts of the ungodly. This I attribute entirely to meekness of soul – a quality more apparent to the lower animals than to certain blasphemous lepers who defile the faculty of speech. Besides, the room was hung with black arras.”
Perdita shuddered.
“That was unfair – even to a heretic. Please may I hear the legend of Abbess’ Oak?”
I emptied my glass.
“Once upon a time,” said I, “an abbey stood here – an abbey of nuns. It had the reputation of being immensely rich. It was, as were many others, suppressed by Henry the Eighth: but, in this particular case, the abbey was burned to the ground – and five years later this house was built on the site. That is all matter of fact: and now for the legend. The Abbess was warned that the King’s men were on their way, so, before they came, she got all the treasure away and sent it down to the coast and over to France. Robbed of their spoil, the King’s men went mad with rage: and they not only burned the abbey but they hanged the Abbess herself from a bough of the oak that stands by the mouth of the drive. And ever since then her ghost has walked of nights where the crime was done.”
Perdita took a deep breath.
“Was nothing left of the Abbey?”
“Only the cellars,” said Berry. He lifted his glass. “This wine came out of them. They’re simply gigantic. In fact, unless the nuns entertained a good deal, one is forced to the conclusion that the abbey was justly suppressed.”
“I’d love to see them.”
“Tomorrow morning,” said I.
“The dowser,” said Daphne, “is coming tomorrow morning.”
“For a fee of ten guineas,” said Berry. “You know, you make me tired.”
“You won’t be tired if he finds us another spring.”
With a manifest effort, Berry controlled his voice.
“There are moments,” he said, “when I could bark with emotion. Bark… To hear you talk, nobody would dream we’d ever had a dowser before – and dropped two hundred quid because we believed what he said.”
There was an uneasy silence.
The remembrance was more than grievous. At the place which the wizard selected, we had dug an expensive well. At forty-two feet we found water, and at forty-three we found rock – exactly one foot of water, forty feet down. And when we had pumped it dry, the well took twelve hours to refill…
“Well, we must do something,” said Daphne. “The garden—”
“We must have water brought,” said Berry. “Conveyed by road.”
“Hopeless,” said Jonah. “We’d need six carts a day for the lawns alone.”
“Then,” said Berry, “we must deepen the wells we have.”
“Out of the question,” said Jonah. “If we are to have more water, we’ve got to find a new spring. And that is where the water diviner comes in. I don’t like taking his word: but we’ll prove him right or wrong for a matter of thirty pounds.”
“It isn’t the money,” said Berry. “It’s the knowledge that we’ll have been done – for the second time…in the crudest possible way. You wouldn’t have a child on twice, and we’re not infants-in-arms.”
“Force majeure,” said I. “There’s nothing else to be done.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Jill. “We can watch the Knave. He’ll know if the dowser’s honest. And if the Knave doesn’t like him, we needn’t dig.”
“Better still,” said Berry. “We bury a bottle of whisky before he comes, and while he’s walking about we watch his nose. If this begins to go red, we write home and warn his wife. And when he’s gone, with his cheque—”
“I know,” said Perdita. “Couldn’t you lay a trap? Hide one of the wells, and see if he finds it out?”
There was an electric silence. Then—
“The stable well,” said Jonah. “Ground sheet over the flap and a flower bed on top. You know. Like they make them for shows. Old Thorn will love to do it, but we’ll have to tell him tonight. And here’s a health to the lady for being so wise.”
We drank it rapturously.
“She’s a paying guest,” said Berry. “That’s what she is. I feel quite different already. My gorge is falling and my spleen is fast assuming proportions less inconvenient to its distinguished company.”
Perdita smiled.
“If I’m bright tonight, you must thank your very good wine.” She touched her glass. “Did the nuns leave this behind them? It’s terribly rare.”
“The custom of the house,” said Berry. “Tomorrow is the chatelaine’s
birthday. In less than twenty-four hours my hag will be sixty-nine.”
“Common man,” said Daphne. “Last year I was twenty-seven, so now I am twenty-six. Entirely between ourselves, the Bilberry register will tell you I’m thirty-two.”
Perdita lifted her glass.
“I’m so glad to be here,” she said gently, and left it there.
The diviner compassed the flower bed, rod in hand. We watched him guiltily. After a little, he set a foot on the mould… And then he was full in the bed and was wiping the sweat from his face.
“There’s water here,” he said shortly. “Abundant water…at twenty to twenty-one feet.”
Berry took the bull by the horns.
“We congratulate you,” he said quietly. “You’re perfectly right.”
Frowning a little, the other stepped out of the bed. “Trying me out, eh? I might have known. There’s plenty of sceptics about.”
“We should like to beg your pardon,” said Berry. “But it’s fair to ourselves to tell you that two years ago we were very badly let down.”
The diviner nodded abruptly.
“Plenty of them about, too.” He pushed back his hat and tapped with his foot upon the ground. “There’s a fine spring here.” He laughed. “Good enough for a village, but not for a place like this.”
The procession reformed: but we followed no longer as critics, but in humble respect for a talent we could not deny. So far as I was concerned, the man was a proven wizard – and that was that. The gardeners who brought up the rear were deeply impressed. Only the Knave showed indifference – or, rather, a faint surprise that we should honour a stranger whom he had rejected the moment he saw his face. The dog can hardly be blamed. The fellow was most unattractive, and so were his ways. Manners may not make magic, for all I know.
We left the walled kitchen-garden to enter the orchard beyond…
Strolling by Perdita’s side, I found it strange that Nature should have chosen for her prophet a practical, business man. About the diviner there was nothing at all of the earth. That the country bored him was plain. He belonged to the town. With his precious gift, the fields should have been his office, the open sky his windows, the brooks his books. But the man was a man of business and his rod was a fountain pen.
I murmured my feelings to Perdita.
“The shepherd’s complaint,” she replied. “You must live and let live, Lycidas – though you may have been born out of time.”
“There spoke Amaryllis,” said I. “Supposing—”
The diviner’s voice cut me short.
“There’s a spring hereabouts. A good one. It mayn’t be where you want it. I can’t help that.”
“It’s quite all right here,” said Berry. “Isn’t it, Thorn?”
“A good head of water here, sir, would do us uncommonly well.”
The diviner seemed to cast to and fro. After a little he straddled and pointed between his feet.
“Have you got a peg?” he demanded.
Thorn came forward and pressed a peg into the soil.
“At twenty-five feet,” said the other. “Perhaps twenty-four.”
“No rock?” said Berry.
“Rock be damned. You’re lucky. I’ve found you a master spring. It’s waste of time going on. You’ve got what everyone wants.”
“I’m greatly obliged,” said Berry. “Come back to the house. I guess you can do with a drink.”
“I guess I can,” said the other, and mopped his face.
Berry and I did the honours, and that in the library. At first we had to work hard, but under the touch of liquor our guest relaxed. This to our great relief. If what he told us was true – and we had no doubt that it was – the fellow had done us a service worth very much more than his fee. We were appropriately grateful. To have our advances rejected was most discouraging.
“I notice,” said I, “that you don’t work with a twig.”
Sitting on the arm of a sofa, the diviner shook his head.
“I can: but I don’t have to. If a man can really find, he can find with a bit of old iron. I’ve done it with wire – more than once. But some things are better than others. It all depends how you’re made.” He took a soft case from his coat. “I’ve three rods here. They’re all of them specially built.” He slid one out of its sheath and put the others away. “Now that’s one that I use…”
With his words I saw the rod move and the sentence died on his lips.
“Good lord, more water?” said Berry.
Frowning slightly, the dowser got to his feet.
“Looks like it,” he said abruptly. “What’s beneath here?”
“Wine cellars,” said I. “But they’re as dry as a bone.”
Rod in hand, the other nodded.
“It’s a long way down,” he said slowly. “You’ve nothing to fear.” He put the rod away and picked up his cheque. “And now I’ll be off,” he added. “If you’ve time to burn, I haven’t – and that’s a fact.”
His ill humour was back in full force. The slightest use of his talent seemed to lay bare his nerves.
In an awkward silence, we walked with him to his car. There we thanked him again and he asked us the way to Brooch. As his two-seater stormed down the drive—
“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” said Berry. “He may be a giddy wizard – I think he is – but of all the offensive…”
“Exactly,” said I. “But I don’t believe the man’s normal.”
“Yes, he is,” said Berry. “As normal as you and I. He’s a Communist – that’s his trouble. One of the red-hot type…that wants to bring to ruin all homes like ours. And we employ and shelter twenty-two souls.”
My sister leaned out of the oriel above our heads.
“My dears, what a birthday present! A master spring. What does that mean exactly?”
“I imagine,” said I, “that it means a very rich source.”
“And you do believe in him, Berry?”
“If I didn’t, my sweet, he’d have gone twenty minutes ago – with a master flea in each ear.”
“Poor man,” said Daphne. “Perhaps he’s a master spleen.”
Three days had gone by, and the new well was nine feet deep. So much Jonah reported, measuring tape in hand. The hour was sundown, and we had but just come home, to rush to the scene of the labour which was to confirm or deny the report the diviner had made.
“Outrageous,” said Berry. “They haven’t done three feet today.”
“It’s been very hot,” said Daphne.
“It’s not skilled labour,” said Berry, “and they’ve got five men on the job. Any fool can dig a hole in the ground.”
Jonah looked up.
“He’s perfectly right. We could dig it faster ourselves. If we put in four hours tomorrow…”
“I’m game,” said I.
“That’s the style,” said Berry heartily. “I only wish I could help.”
“Don’t be a fool,” said Jonah. “We must have three.”
“Why can’t you help?” said Jill.
“I’ve got to see the dentist,” said Berry. “Heaven knows—”
“Have you got an appointment?” said Daphne.
My brother-in-law swallowed.
“Polteney always sees me—”
In a burst of indignant derision the rest of the sentence was lost.
“All right, all right,” said Berry. “I’ll put it off. After all, what is thrush?” He took up a pickaxe and weighed it – with starting eyes. “I think I’d better work at the top.”
“Half-hour shifts,” said Jonah. “We shan’t want very much on.”
“We’d better work barefoot,” said Berry. “Then when we slice our feet off, we shan’t have any boots to be cut away.”
“Any fool,” said I, “can dig a hole in the ground.”
“With reasonable tools,” said Berry. “That pickaxe—”
“It’s the weight that does it,” said Jonah. “You’ll see what I mean when you’v
e swung it for a quarter of an hour.”
As soon as Berry could speak—
“We’d better not,” he said shortly. “We shall only offend the men. When they find we’ve been doing their work – Yes, Falcon?”
I turned to see the butler two paces away.
“I came to say, sir, the men went off early today. It’s the foreman’s silver wedding. But they’re going to make it up, sir, on Saturday afternoon.”
“God bless them,” said Berry with emotion. “God bless their simple souls.”
“They were very anxious, sir, that you shouldn’t think them indifferent to your desires. They’re very grateful for the beer, sir.”
“Tell them,” said Berry warmly, “I’m more than satisfied.”
“Very good, sir. And, if you please, sir, the wine has come.”
“The wine?” said Berry. “What wine?”
The butler moistened his lips.
“I believe it, sir, to be claret. Sixty dozen were delivered this afternoon.”
“Sixty dozen?” screamed Berry. “But who’s been being funny?”
“There you are, sir,” cried Falcon. “I was sure there was some mistake. Again and again I insisted that you would never have ordered—”
“Seven hundred and twenty bottles?”
“And all of them loose, sir. And not a label between them… It took two hours and more to get them into the bins.”
Berry put a hand to his head.
“Stand back,” he faltered. “Stand back and give me air.”
“But where did they come from?” said Daphne.
“From some warehouse in London, madam. I’d have telephoned if I could, but they’re not in the book.”
“Well, it’s their look-out,” said I. “When they render the bill, we can tell them to take it away.”
“That’s all very well,” said Berry. “Supposing I’m right, and somebody is being funny – ordering stuff in our name… We shall know tomorrow morning, but I don’t want five tons of guano and a hundred and fifty bedsteads in weathered oak.”
And Berry Came Too Page 10
