The Intrusion of Jimmy

by P. G. Wodehouse

  CHAPTER XXV

  EXPLANATIONS

  Jimmy, like his lordship, had been trapped at the beginning of theduologue, and had not been able to get away till it was nearly over.He had been introduced by Lady Julia to an elderly and adhesivebaronet, who had recently spent ten days in New York, and escape hadnot been won without a struggle. The baronet on his return toEngland had published a book, entitled, "Modern America and ItsPeople," and it was with regard to the opinions expressed in thisvolume that he invited Jimmy's views. He had no wish to see theduologue, and it was only after the loss of much precious time thatJimmy was enabled to tear himself away on the plea of having todress. He cursed the authority on "Modern America and Its People"freely, as he ran upstairs. While the duologue was in progress,there had been no chance of Sir Thomas taking it into his head tovisit his dressing-room. He had been, as his valet-detective hadobserved to Mr. Galer, too busy jollying along the swells. It wouldbe the work of a few moments only to restore the necklace to itsplace. But for the tenacity of the elderly baronet, the thing wouldhave been done by this time. Now, however, there was no knowing whatmight not happen. Anybody might come along the passage, and see him.He had one point in his favor. There was no likelihood of the jewelsbeing required by their owner till the conclusion of thetheatricals. The part that Lady Julia had been persuaded byCharteris to play mercifully contained no scope for the display ofgems.

  Before going down to dinner, Jimmy had locked the necklace in adrawer. It was still there, Spike having been able apparently toresist the temptation of recapturing it. Jimmy took it, and wentinto the corridor. He looked up and down. There was nobody about. Heshut his door, and walked quickly in the direction of the dressing-room.

  He had provided himself with an electric pocket-torch, equipped witha reflector, which he was in the habit of carrying when on histravels. Once inside, having closed the door, he set this aglow, andlooked about him.

  Spike had given him minute directions as to the position of thejewel-box. He found it without difficulty. To his untrained eye, itseemed tolerably massive and impregnable, but Spike had evidentlyknown how to open it without much difficulty. The lid was shut, butit came up without an effort when he tried to raise it, and he sawthat the lock had been broken.

  "Spike's coming on!" he said.

  He was dangling the necklace over the box, preparatory to droppingit in, when there was a quick rustle at the other side of the room.The curtain was plucked aside, and Molly came out.

  "Jimmy!" she cried.

  Jimmy's nerves were always in pretty good order, but at the sight ofthis apparition he visibly jumped.

  "Great Scott!" he said.

  The curtain again became agitated by some unseen force, violentlythis time, and from its depths a plaintive voice made itself heard.

  "Dash it all," said the voice, "I've stuck!"

  There was another upheaval, and his lordship emerged, his yellowlocks ruffled and upstanding, his face crimson.

  "Caught my head in a coat or something," he explained at large."Hullo, Pitt!"

  Pressed rigidly against the wall, Molly had listened with growingastonishment to the movements on the other side of the curtain. Hermystification deepened every moment. It seemed to her that the roomwas still in darkness. She could hear the sound of breathing; andthen the light of the torch caught her eye. Who could this be, andwhy had he not switched on the regular room lights?

  She strained her ears to catch a sound. For a while, she heardnothing except the soft breathing. Then came a voice that she knewwell; and, abandoning her hiding-place, she came out into the room,and found Jimmy standing, with the torch in his hand, over some darkobject in the corner of the room.

  It was a full minute after Jimmy's first exclamation of surprisebefore either of them spoke again. The light of the torch hurtMolly's eyes. She put up a hand, to shade them. It seemed to herthat they had been standing like this for years.

  Jimmy had not moved. There was something in his attitude that filledMolly with a vague fear. In the shadow behind the torch, he lookedshapeless and inhuman.

  "You're hurting my eyes," she said, at last.

  "I'm sorry," said Jimmy. "I didn't think. Is that better?" He turnedthe light from her face. Something in his voice and the apologetichaste with which he moved the torch seemed to relax the strain ofthe situation. The feeling of stunned surprise began to leave her.She found herself thinking coherently again.

  The relief was but momentary. Why was Jimmy in the room at thattime? Why had he a torch? What had he been doing? The questions shotfrom her brain like sparks from an anvil.

  The darkness began to tear at her nerves. She felt along the wallfor the switch, and flooded the whole room with light.

  Jimmy laid down the torch, and stood for a moment, undecided. He hadconcealed the necklace behind him. Now, he brought it forward, anddangled it silently before the eyes of Molly and his lordship.Excellent as were his motives for being in that room with thenecklace in his hand, he could not help feeling, as he met Molly'sstartled gaze, quite as guilty as if his intentions had beenaltogether different.

  His lordship, having by this time pulled himself together to someextent, was the first to speak.

  "I say, you know, what ho!" he observed, not without emotion."What?"

  Molly drew back.

  "Jimmy! You were--oh, you can't have been!"

  "Looks jolly like it!" said his lordship, judicially.

  "I wasn't," said Jimmy. "I was putting them back."

  "Putting them back?"

  "Pitt, old man," said his lordship solemnly, "that sounds a bitthin."

  "Dreever, old man," said Jimmy. "I know it does. But it's thetruth."

  His lordship's manner became kindly.

  "Now, look here, Pitt, old son," he said, "there's nothing to worryabout. We're all pals here. You can pitch it straight to us. Wewon't give you away. We--"

  "Be quiet!" cried Molly. "Jimmy!"

  Her voice was strained. She spoke with an effort. She was sufferingtorments. The words her father had said to her on the terrace werepouring back into her mind. She seemed to hear his voice now, cooland confident, warning her against Jimmy, saying that he wascrooked. There was a curious whirring in her head. Everything in theroom was growing large and misty. She heard Lord Dreever begin tosay something that sounded as if someone were speaking at the end ofa telephone; and, then, she was aware that Jimmy was holding her inhis arms, and calling to Lord Dreever to bring water.

  "When a girl goes like that," said his lordship with an insufferableair of omniscience, "you want to cut her--"

  "Come along!" said Jimmy. "Are you going to be a week getting thatwater?"

  His lordship proceeded to soak a sponge without further parley; but,as he carried his dripping burden across the room, Molly recovered.She tried weakly to free herself.

  Jimmy helped her to a chair. He had dropped the necklace on thefloor, and Lord Dreever nearly trod on it.

  "What ho!" observed his lordship, picking it up. "Go easy with thejewelry!"

  Jimmy was bending over Molly. Neither of them seemed to be aware ofhis lordship's presence. Spennie was the sort of person whoseexistence is apt to be forgotten. Jimmy had had a flash ofintuition. For the first time, it had occurred to him that Mr.McEachern might have hinted to Molly something of his ownsuspicions.

  "Molly, dear," he said, "it isn't what you think. I can explaineverything. Do you feel better now? Can you listen? I can explaineverything."

  "Pitt, old boy," protested his lordship, "you don't understand. Wearen't going to give you away. We're all--"

  Jimmy ignored him.

  "Molly, listen," he said.

  She sat up.

  "Go on, Jimmy," she said.

  "I wasn't stealing the necklace. I was putting it back. The man whocame to the castle with me, Spike Mullins, took it this afternoon,and brought it to me."

  Spike Mullins! Molly remembered the name.

  "He thinks I am a crook, a sort of Raffles
. It was my fault. I was afool. It all began that night in New York, when we met at yourhouse. I had been to the opening performance of a play called,'Love, the Cracksman,' one of those burglar plays."

  "Jolly good show," interpolated his lordship, chattily. "It was atthe Circle over here. I went twice."

  "A friend of mine, a man named Mifflin, had been playing the hero init, and after the show, at the club, he started in talking about theart of burglary--he'd been studying it--and I said that anybodycould burgle a house. And, in another minute, it somehow happenedthat I had made a bet that I would do it that night. Heaven knowswhether I ever really meant to; but, that same night, this manMullins broke into my flat, and I caught him. We got intoconversation, and I worked off on him a lot of technical stuff I'dheard from this actor friend of mine, and he jumped to theconclusion that I was an expert. And, then, it suddenly occurred tome that it would be a good joke on Mifflin if I went out withMullins, and did break into a house. I wasn't in the mood to thinkwhat a fool I was at the time. Well, anyway, we went out, and--well,that's how it all happened. And, then, I met Spike in London, downand out, and brought him here."

  He looked at her anxiously. It did not need his lordship's owlishexpression of doubt to tell him how weak his story must sound. Hehad felt it even as he was telling it. He was bound to admit that,if ever a story rang false in every sentence, it was this one.

  "Pitt, old man," said his lordship, shaking his head, more in sorrowthan in anger, "it won't do, old top. What's the point of putting upany old yarn like that? Don't you see, what I mean is, it's not asif we minded. Don't I keep telling you we're all pals here? I'veoften thought what a jolly good feller old Raffles was. Regularsportsman! I don't blame a chappie for doing the gentleman burglartouch. Seems to me it's a dashed sporting--"

  Molly turned on him suddenly, cutting short his views on the ethicsof gentlemanly theft in a blaze of indignation.

  "What do you mean?" she cried. "Do you think I don't believe everyword Jimmy has said?"

  His lordship jumped.

  "Well, don't you know, it seemed to me a bit thin. What I mean is--"He met Molly's eye. "Oh, well!" he concluded, lamely.

  Molly turned to Jimmy.

  "Jimmy, of course, I believe you. I believe every word."

  "Molly!"

  His lordship looked on, marveling. The thought crossed his mind thathe had lost the ideal wife. A girl who would believe any old yarn afeller cared to--If it hadn't been for Katie! For a moment, he feltalmost sad.

  Jimmy and Molly were looking at each other in silence. From theexpression on their faces, his lordship gathered that his existencehad once more been forgotten. He saw her hold out her hands toJimmy, and it seemed to him that the time had come to look away. Itwas embarrassing for a chap! He looked away.

  The next moment, the door opened and closed again, and she had gone.

  He looked at Jimmy. Jimmy was still apparently unconscious of hispresence.

  His lordship coughed.

  "Pitt, old man--"

  "Hullo!" said Jimmy, coming out of his thoughts with a start. "Youstill here? By the way--" he eyed Lord Dreever curiously--"I neverthought of asking before--what on earth are you doing here? Why wereyou behind the curtain? Were you playing hide-and-seek?"

  His lordship was not one of those who invent circumstantial storieseasily on the spur of the moment. He searched rapidly for somethingthat would pass muster, then abandoned the hopeless struggle. Afterall, why not be frank? He still believed Jimmy to be of the class ofthe hero of "Love, the Cracksman." There would be no harm inconfiding in him. He was a good fellow, a kindred soul, and wouldsympathize.

  "It's like this," he said. And, having prefaced his narrative withthe sound remark that he had been a bit of an ass, he gave Jimmy asummary of recent events.

  "What!" said Jimmy. "You taught Hargate picquet? Why, my dear man,he was playing picquet like a professor when you were in shortfrocks. He's a wonder at it."

  His lordship started.

  "How's that?" he said. "You don't know him, do you?"

  "I met him in New York, at the Strollers' Club. A pal of mine, anactor, this fellow Mifflin I mentioned just now, put him up as aguest. He coined money at picquet. And there were some prettyuseful players in the place, too. I don't wonder you found him apromising pupil."

  "Then--then--why, dash it, then he's a bally sharper!"

  "You're a genius at crisp description," said Jimmy. "You've got himsummed up to rights first shot."

  "I sha'n't pay him a bally penny!"

  "Of course not. If he makes any objection, refer him to me."

  His lordship's relief was extreme. The more overpowering effects ofthe elixir had passed away, and he saw now, what he had not seen inhis more exuberant frame of mind, the cloud of suspicion that musthave hung over him when the loss of the banknotes was discovered.

  He wiped his forehead.

  "By Jove!" he said. "That's something off my mind! By George, I feellike a two-year-old. I say, you're a dashed good sort, Pitt."

  "You flatter me," said Jimmy. "I strive to please."

  "I say, Pitt, that yarn you told us just now--the bet, and all that.Honestly, you don't mean to say that was true, was it? I mean--ByJove! I've got an idea."

  "We live in stirring times!"

  "Did you say your actor pal's name was Mifflin?" He broke offsuddenly before Jimmy could answer. "Great Scott!" he whispered."What's that! Good lord! Somebody's coming!"

  He dived behind the curtain, like a rabbit. The drapery had onlyjust ceased to shake when the door opened, and Sir Thomas Bluntwalked in.