The Little Nugget

by P. G. Wodehouse

  Chapter 10

  When Sam had left, which he did rather in the manner of a heavyfather in melodrama, shaking the dust of an erring son's thresholdoff his feet, I mixed myself a high-ball, and sat down to considerthe position of affairs. It did not take me long to see that theinfernal boy had double-crossed me with a smooth effectivenesswhich Mr Fisher himself might have envied. Somewhere in this greatcity, as Sam had observed, he was hiding. But where? London is avague address.

  I wondered what steps Sam was taking. Was there some undergroundsecret service bureau to which persons of his profession hadaccess? I doubted it. I imagined that he, as I proposed to do, wasdrawing the city at a venture in the hope of flushing the quarryby accident. Yet such was the impression he had made upon me as aman of resource and sagacity, that I did not relish the idea ofhis getting a start on me, even in a venture so uncertain as this.My imagination began to picture him miraculously inspired in thesearch, and such was the vividness of the vision that I jumped upfrom my chair, resolved to get on the trail at once. It washopelessly late, however, and I did not anticipate that I shouldmeet with any success.

  Nor did I. For two hours and a half I tramped the streets, myspirits sinking more and more under the influence of failure and ablend of snow and sleet which had begun to fall; and then, tiredout, I went back to my rooms, and climbed sorrowfully into bed.

  It was odd to wake up and realize that I was in London. Yearsseemed to have passed since I had left it. Time is a thing ofemotions, not of hours and minutes, and I had certainly packed aconsiderable number of emotional moments into my stay at SansteadHouse. I lay in bed, reviewing the past, while Smith, with acheerful clatter of crockery, prepared my breakfast in the nextroom.

  A curious lethargy had succeeded the feverish energy of theprevious night. More than ever the impossibility of finding theneedle in this human bundle of hay oppressed me. No one isoptimistic before breakfast, and I regarded the future with dullresignation, turning my thoughts from it after a while to thepast. But the past meant Audrey, and to think of Audrey hurt.

  It seemed curious to me that in a life of thirty years I shouldhave been able to find, among the hundreds of women I had met,only one capable of creating in me that disquieting welter ofemotions which is called love, and hard that that one shouldreciprocate my feeling only to the extent of the mild liking whichAudrey entertained for me.

  I tried to analyse her qualifications for the place she held in myheart. I had known women who had attracted me more physically, andwomen who had attracted me more mentally. I had known wiser women,handsomer women, more amiable women, but none of them had affectedme like Audrey. The problem was inexplicable. Any idea that wemight be affinities, soul-mates destined for each other from thebeginning of time, was disposed of by the fact that my attractionfor her was apparently in inverse ratio to hers for me. Forpossibly the millionth time in the past five years I tried topicture in my mind the man Sheridan, that shadowy wooer to whomshe had yielded so readily. What quality had he possessed that Idid not? Wherein lay the magnetism that had brought about histriumph?

  These were unprofitable speculations. I laid them aside until thenext occasion when I should feel disposed for self-torture, andgot out of bed. A bath and breakfast braced me up, and I left thehouse in a reasonably cheerful frame of mind.

  To search at random for an individual unit among London's millionslends an undeniable attraction to a day in town. In a desultoryway I pursued my investigations through the morning and afternoon,but neither of Ogden nor of his young friend Lord Beckford was Ivouchsafed a glimpse. My consolation was that Smooth Sam wasprobably being equally unsuccessful.

  Towards the evening there arose the question of return toSanstead. I had not gathered whether Mr Abney had intended to setany time-limit on my wanderings, or whether I was not supposed tocome back except with the deserters. I decided that I had betterremain in London, at any rate for another night, and went to thenearest post office to send Mr Abney a telegram to that effect.

  As I was writing it, the problem which had baffled me for twenty-fourhours, solved itself in under a minute. Whether my powers ofinductive reasoning had been under a cloud since I left Sanstead,or whether they were normally beneath contempt, I do not know. Butthe fact remains, that I had completely overlooked the obvioussolution of my difficulty. I think I must have been thinking soexclusively of the Little Nugget that I had entirely forgotten theexistence of Augustus Beckford. It occurred to me now that, bymaking inquiries at the latter's house, I should learn somethingto my advantage. A boy of the Augustus type does not run away fromschool without a reason. Probably some party was taking placetonight at the ancestral home, at which, tempted by the lawlessNugget, he had decided that his presence was necessary.

  I knew the house well. There had been a time, when Lord Mountryand I were at Oxford, when I had spent frequent week-ends there.Since then, owing to being abroad, I had seen little of thefamily. Now was the moment to reintroduce myself. I hailed a cab.

  Inductive reasoning had not played me false. There was a redcarpet outside the house, and from within came the sounds ofmusic.

  Lady Wroxham, the mother of Mountry and the vanishing Augustus,was one of those women who take things as they come. She did notseem surprised at seeing me.

  'How nice of you to come and see us,' she said. 'Somebody told meyou were abroad. Ted is in the south of France in the yacht.Augustus is here. Mr Abney, his schoolmaster, let him come up forthe night.'

  I perceived that Augustus had been playing a bold game. I saw thecoaching of Ogden behind these dashing falsehoods.

  'You will hardly remember Sybil. She was quite a baby when youwere here last. She is having her birthday-party this evening.'

  'May I go in and help?' I said.

  'I wish you would. They would love it.'

  I doubted it, but went in. A dance had just finished. Strollingtowards me in his tightest Eton suit, his face shining with honestjoy, was the errant Augustus, and close behind him, wearing theblase' air of one for whom custom has staled the pleasures of life,was the Little Nugget.

  I think they both saw me at the same moment. The effect of myappearance on them was illustrative of their respective characters.Augustus turned a deep shade of purple and fixed me with ahorrified stare. The Nugget winked. Augustus halted and shuffledhis feet. The Nugget strolled up and accosted me like an oldfriend.

  'Hello!' he said. 'How did you get here? Say, I was going to tryand get you on the phone some old time and explain things. I'vebeen pretty much on the jump since I hit London.'

  'You little brute!'

  My gleaming eye, travelling past him, met that of the Hon.Augustus Beckford, causing that youth to jump guiltily. The Nuggetlooked over his shoulder.

  'I guess we don't want him around if we're to talk business,' hesaid. 'I'll go and tell him to beat it.'

  'You'll do nothing of the kind. I don't propose to lose sight ofeither of you.'

  'Oh, he's all right. You don't have to worry about him. He wasgoing back to the school anyway tomorrow. He only ran away to goto this party. Why not let him enjoy himself while he's here? I'llgo and make a date for you to meet at the end of the show.'

  He approached his friend, and a short colloquy ensued, which endedin the latter shuffling off in the direction of the otherrevellers. Such is the buoyancy of youth that a moment later hewas dancing a two-step with every appearance of careless enjoyment.The future, with its storms, seemed to have slipped from his mind.

  'That's all right,' said the Nugget, returning to me. 'He'spromised he won't duck away. You'll find him somewhere aroundwhenever you care to look for him. Now we can talk.'

  'I hardly like to trespass on your valuable time,' I said. Theairy way in which this demon boy handled what should have been--tohim--an embarrassing situation irritated me. For all the authorityI seemed to have over him I might have been the potted palmagainst which he was leaning.

  'That's all right.' Everything appeared to be all right with him.'This
sort of thing does not appeal to me. Don't be afraid ofspoiling my evening. I only came because Becky was so set on it.Dancing bores me pallid, so let's get somewhere where we can sitdown and talk.'

  I was beginning to feel that a children's party was the rightplace for me. Sam Fisher had treated me as a child, and so did theLittle Nugget. That I was a responsible person, well on in mythirty-first year, with a narrow escape from death and a hopelesslove-affair on my record, seemed to strike neither of them. Ifollowed my companion to a secluded recess with the utmostmeekness.

  He leaned back and crossed his legs.

  'Got a cigarette?'

  'I have not got a cigarette, and, if I had, I wouldn't give it toyou.'

  He regarded me tolerantly.

  'Got a grouch tonight, haven't you? You seem all flittered upabout something. What's the trouble? Sore about my not showing upat your apartment? I'll explain that all right.'

  'I shall be glad to listen.'

  'It's like this. It suddenly occurred to me that a day or two oneway or the other wasn't going to affect our deal and that, while Iwas about it, I might just as well see a bit of London before Ileft. I suggested it to Becky, and the idea made the biggest kindof a hit with him. I found he had only been in an automobile oncein his life. Can you beat it? I've had one of my own ever sinceI was a kid. Well, naturally, it was up to me to blow him to ajoy-ride, and that's where the money went.'

  'Where the money went?'

  'Sure. I've got two dollars left, and that's all. It wasn'taltogether the automobiling. It was the meals that got away withmy roll. Say, that kid Beckford is one swell feeder. He's wrappinghimself around the eats all the time. I guess it's not smokingthat does it. I haven't the appetite I used to have. Well, that'show it was, you see. But I'm through now. Cough up the fare andI'll make the trip tomorrow. Mother'll be tickled to death to seeme.'

  'She won't see you. We're going back to the school tomorrow.'

  He looked at me incredulously.

  'What's that? Going back to school?'

  'I've altered my plans.'

  'I'm not going back to any old school. You daren't take me.Where'll you be if I tell the hot-air merchant about our deal andyou slipping me the money and all that?'

  'Tell him what you like. He won't believe it.'

  He thought this over, and its truth came home to him. Thecomplacent expression left his face.

  'What's the matter with you? Are you dippy, or what? You get meaway up to London, and the first thing that happens when I'm hereis that you want to take me back. You make me tired.'

  It was borne in upon me that there was something in his point ofview. My sudden change of mind must have seemed inexplicable tohim. And, having by a miracle succeeded in finding him, I was in amood to be generous. I unbent.

  'Ogden, old sport,' I said cordially, I think we've both had allwe want of this children's party. You're bored and if I stop onanother half hour I may be called on to entertain these infantswith comic songs. We men of the world are above this sort ofthing. Get your hat and coat and I'll take you to a show. We candiscuss business later over a bit of supper.'

  The gloom of his countenance melted into a pleased smile.

  'You said something that time!' he observed joyfully; and we slunkaway to get our hats, the best of friends. A note for AugustusBeckford, requesting his presence at Waterloo Station at tenminutes past twelve on the following morning, I left with thebutler. There was a certain informality about my methods which Idoubt if Mr Abney would have approved, but I felt that I couldrely on Augustus.

  Much may be done by kindness. By the time the curtain fell on themusical comedy which we had attended all was peace between theNugget and myself. Supper cemented our friendship, and we droveback to my rooms on excellent terms with one another. Half an hourlater he was snoring in the spare room, while I smoked contentedlybefore the fire in the sitting-room.

  I had not been there five minutes when the bell rang. Smith was inbed, so I went to the door myself and found Mr Fisher on the mat.

  My feeling of benevolence towards all created things, the resultof my successful handling of the Little Nugget, embraced Sam. Iinvited him in.

  'Well,' I said, when I had given him a cigar and filled his glass,'and how have you been getting on, Mr Fisher? Any luck?'

  He shook his head at me reproachfully.

  'Young man, you're deep. I've got to hand it to you. Iunderestimated you. You're very deep.'

  'Approbation from Smooth Sam Fisher is praise indeed. But whythese stately compliments?'

  'You took me in, young man. I don't mind owning it. When you toldme the Nugget had gone astray, I lapped it up like a babe. And allthe time you were putting one over on me. Well, well!'

  'But he had gone astray, Mr Fisher.'

  He knocked the ash off his cigar. He wore a pained look.

  'You needn't keep it up, sonny. I happened to be standing withinthree yards of you when you got into a cab with him in ShaftesburyAvenue.'

  I laughed.

  'Well, if that's the case, let there be no secrets between us.He's asleep in the next room.'

  Sam leaned forward earnestly and tapped me on the knee.

  'Young man, this is a critical moment. This is where, if youaren't careful, you may undo all the good work you have done bygetting chesty and thinking that, because you've won out so far,you're the whole show. Believe me, the difficult part is to come,and it's right here that you need an experienced man to work inwith you. Let me in on this and leave the negotiations with oldman Ford to me. You would only make a mess of them. I've handledthis kind of thing a dozen times, and I know just how to act. Youwon't regret taking me on as a partner. You won't lose a cent byit. I can work him for just double what you would get, evensupposing you didn't make a mess of the deal and get nothing.'

  'It's very good of you, but there won't be any negotiations withMr Ford. I am taking the boy back to Sanstead, as I told you.' Icaught his pained eye. 'I'm afraid you don't believe me.'

  He drew at his cigar without replying.

  It is a human weakness to wish to convince those who doubt us,even if their opinion is not intrinsically valuable. I rememberedthat I had Cynthia's letter in my pocket. I produced it as exhibitA in my evidence and read it to him.

  Sam listened carefully.

  'I see,' he said. 'Who wrote that?'

  'Never mind. A friend of mine.'

  I returned the letter to my pocket.

  'I was going to have sent him over to Monaco, but I altered myplans. Something interfered.'

  'What?'

  'I might call it coincidence, if you know what that means.'

  'And you are really going to take him back to the school?'

  'I am.'

  'We shall travel back together,' he said. 'I had hoped I had seenthe last of the place. The English countryside may be delightfulin the summer, but for winter give me London. However,' he sighedresignedly, and rose from his chair, 'I will say good-bye tilltomorrow. What train do you catch?'

  'Do you mean to say,' I demanded, 'that you have the nerve to comeback to Sanstead after what you have told me about yourself?'

  'You entertain some idea of exposing me to Mr Abney? Forget it,young man. We are both in glass houses. Don't let us throw stones.Besides, would he believe it? What proof have you?'

  I had thought this argument tolerably sound when I had used it onthe Nugget. Now that it was used on myself I realized itssoundness even more thoroughly. My hands were tied.

  'Yes,' said Sam, 'tomorrow, after our little jaunt to London, weshall all resume the quiet, rural life once more.'

  He beamed expansively upon me from the doorway.

  'However, even the quiet, rural life has its interest. I guess weshan't be dull!' he said.

  I believed him.