Jonah and Co. by Dornford Yates
CHAPTER V
HOW LOVE CAME TO JILL, HERBERT TO THE RESCUE, AND A YOUNG MAN BY HISRIGHT
A week of fine days had slipped by. Most of these we had spent uponthe open road. For fifty miles about Pau we had proved the countrysideand found it lovely. This day we had determined to fare fartherafield. Perhaps because of this decision, Trouble had peered out ofthe bushes before we had gone twenty miles.
Had we, however, been advised to expect a puncture and requested toselect the venue, we could not have chosen a more delightful spot.
Immediately upon our right there was a garden, trim and pleasing as thefarmhouse it served. Stretched in the gateway lay a large white hound,regarding us sleepily. Beyond, on the greensward, a peacock preenedhimself in the hot sunshine. On the left, a wayside bank made aparapet, and a score of lime-trees a sweet balustrade. A glancebetween these natural balusters turned our strip of metalling into agallery. The car, indeed, was standing upon the edge of a brae.Whether this fell sheer or sloped steeply could not be seen, for thefirst thing which the down-looking eye encountered was a vast plain,rich, sun-bathed, rolling, three hundred feet below. North, south, andeast, as far as the sight could follow, was stretching Lilliput.Meadows and poplars and the flash of streams, steadings and villages,coppices, flocks and curling roads glinted or glowed in miniature.Close on our right two toy towers stood boldly up to grace a townlet.Due east a long, straight baby avenue led to a midget city. Northwarda tiny train stole like a snail into the haze of distance. Far to thesouth the mountains, blurred, snowy, ethereal, rose like a beckoningdream to point the fairy tale.
It was only when we had gloated upon the prospect for several minutes,identified the townlet as Ibus and the city as Tarbes, and, taking outpowerful binoculars, subjected the panorama to a curious scrutiny,which might have shattered the illusion, but only turned Lilliput intoUtopia, that we pulled ourselves together and started to consider ourplight.
This was not serious. A tire was flat, certainly, but we had two sparewheels.
I drew a sou from my pocket and spun it into the air.
"I maintain," said Berry, "that the obverse will bite the dust."
The coin tinkled to a settlement, and we both stooped to read ourrespective fates....
A moment later, with a self-satisfied grin, I climbed back into thecar, whilst Berry removed his coat with awful deliberation.
Jill was in possession of the paper, so I lighted a cigarette andturned up Tarbes in the guide-book....
"Just listen to this," said my cousin suddenly.
"_Of the four properties, the villa Irikli is the most notable. Awell-known traveller once styled it 'the fairest jewel in Como'sdiadem.' Occupying one of the choicest situations on the famous lake,surrounded by extensive gardens, the varied beauty of which beggarsdescription, the palace--for it is nothing less--has probably excitedmore envy than any dwelling in Europe...._
"Then it speaks about the house.... Wait a minute.... Here we are
"_The heavily-shaded lawns, stretching to the very edge of the lake,the magnificent cedars, the sunlit terraces, the cascades, the chestnutgroves, the orange and lemon trellises, the exquisite prospects, go tothe making of a veritable paradise._"
"Doesn't that sound maddening?"
"It does, indeed," I agreed. "Whose is it?"
"I don't know," said Jill absently, staring into the distance. "But Ican just see it all. Fancy living there, and going out beforebreakfast over the lawns to bathe..."
Idly I took the paper out of her hand.
From this it appeared that the property had belonged to the Duke ofPadua. Reading further, I found that the latter's whole estate had,upon his death nine months ago, become the subject of an action at law.The deceased's legitimacy, it seemed, had been called in question.To-day the Appeal Court of Italy was to declare the true heir....
As I laid down the sheet--
"Somebody," I said, "will drink champagne to-night."
"Oranges and lemons," murmured Jill. "Cascades...."
A vicious grunt from below and behind suggested that my brother-in-lawwas standing no nonsense.
I settled myself in my corner of the car, tilted my hat over my nose,and closed my eyes....
The sound of voices aroused me.
"...your silly eyes. Didn't you hear me say '_Non_'? _NONG_, man,_NONG_! You'll strip the blinkin' thread.... Look here...."
"_A-a-ah! Oui, oui, Monsieur. Je comprends, je comprends._"
"You don't listen," said Berry severely. "That's what's the matterwith you. Valuable car like this, too."
Jill buried her face in my sleeve and began to shake with laughter."_Alors, en avant, mon brave. Mettez y votre derriere._ Oh, very hot,very hot."
"_C'est bien ca, Monsieur?_"
"Every time," said Berry. "Now the next.... _D'abord avec lesdoigts_.... That's enough, fathead. What's the brace done?"
"_Mais, Monsieur----_"
"_Si vous disputez,_" said Berry gravely, "_vous ne l'aurez passeulement ou le poulet a recu la hache, mais je n'aurai pas de choixmais de vous demander de retourner a vos b-b-b-boeufs._"
"_Pardon, Monsieur._"
"Granted, Herbert, granted," was the airy reply. "But you must takeoff that worried look. _Ca me rappelle la maison des singes.... Oh,terrible, terrible. Et le parfum_.... My dear Herbert, _il frappel'orchestre_.... And now, suppose we resume our improvement of theworking day."
Except for the laboured breathing of Herbert, the remaining bolts wereaffixed in silence.
"_Bien,_" said Berry. "_Maintenant le_ jack. I trust, Herbert, thatyou have a supple spine. _Voici. Tournez, mon ami, tournez.... Now,non, NONG!_ You bull-nosed idiot! _A gauche!_"
"_A-a-ah! Oui, oui, Monsieur! A gauche, a gauche._"
"All right," said Berry. "I said it first. It's my brain-wave....That's right. Now pull back--_tirez_. _Bon_. Now shove it _ici, dansla bottine_.... And must you kneel upon the wing, Herbert? Must you?A-a-ah! Get off, you clumsy satyr!"
A yell of protest from Herbert suggested that Berry's protest had beenreinforced _vi et armis_.
"_Non, non, Monsieur! Laissez-moi tranquil. Je ne fais quo ce quevous commandez...._"
"Dog," said my brother-in-law, "you lie! Never mind. Pick up thatwheel instead. _Prenez la roue, Herbert_.... _C'est bien. Alors,attachez-la ici._ Yes, I know it's heavy, but _ne montrez pas lalangue_. _Respirez par le nez, man_. And don't stagger like that. Itmakes me feel tired.... So. Now, isn't that nice? Herbert, my Son,_void la fin de votre travail_."
"_C'est tout, Monsieur?_"
"_C'est tout, mon ami_. Should you wish to remember me in yourprayers, _je suis le Comte Blowfly, du Rat Mort, Clacton-on-Sea_.Telegraphic address, Muckheap. And there's ten francs towards yournext shave."
"_Oh, Monsieur, c'est trop gentil. J'ai ete heureux----_"
"_Pas un mot_, Herbert. Believe me, it's cheap at the price. What'smore, _je suis enchante d'avoir fait votre connaissance_."
"_A votre service, Monsieur._"
"Itch Deen," said Berry. "Itch Deen. And if ever one of your bullocksbursts and you have to put in a new one, I only trust I shall be out ofearshot. _Au revoir, mon ami. Ne faites-pas attention au monsieuravec le nez rouge dans l'auto. Il est grise._"
The reverent look with which Herbert favoured me, as he returned to hisoxen, I shall never forget. Clearly, to be in the arms of Dionysus byeleven o'clock in the morning was arguing at once an affluence and adiscretion which were almost sacred.
"Ah," said Berry, making his appearance, "you're awake, are you? I'vejust finished. Herbert's been watching me. Have you got thebeer-opener there? It's--it's tiring work."
"What is?" said I grimly. "Instructing?"
"That's it," said my brother-in-law. "I explained as I went along.Herbert was most interested. A little dense, you know, but such a nicefellow. He thinks the world of you. Now, I think the beer-opener's inthe left-hand----"
&nb
With his foot upon the step, Berry regarded me.
"I should like Herbert's ruling on that," he said. "Besides, I've gota thirst which is above rubies."
"Think what it'll be like by lunch-time," said Jill. "Besides," sheadded, searching for her bag, "I've got some acid drops somewhere."
With an unearthly shriek Berry clawed at his temples.... For a momenthe rocked to and fro agonisedly. Then he climbed heavily into the car.
As he sank back against the cushions--
"Murderess," he said. "And it was the best I've had since Egypt."
* * * * *
Two hours later we ran into Montrejeau, crept by its exquisitemarket--roofed and pillared and carrying its four hundred years as theywere forty--dropped down a wicked hill, and swept over an infantGaronne on to the Luchon road.
Before we had covered five kilometres we sighted our goal.
'A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.'
Out of the blowing meadows rose up an eminence. But for the snow-cladheights beyond, you would have called it a mountain. Its slopes weretimbered, and if there was a road there, this could not be seen. Highup above the trees was a city wall, standing out boldly, as rampartsshould. Within the wall, still higher, were houses, white, ancient,stern-faced. And there, clear above them all, perched upon the verypoint of the hill, towered a cathedral. The size of it turned the cityinto a close. Its site, its bulwarks, however, turned the church intoa castle. Here was an abbot filling the post of constable. The longeryou gazed, the stronger the paradox became. Pictures of peace and warbecame inextricably confused. Men-at-arms mumbled their offices; steelcaps concealed tonsures: embrasures framed precious panes: trumpetssounded the Angelus: mail chinked beneath vestments: sallies becameprocessions: sentinels cried "_Pax vobiscum_".... Plainly mostvenerable, the tiny city and the tremendous church made up a livingrelic, of whose possession Memory can be very proud.Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges ranks with the Leaning Tower of Pisa.There is nothing like it in all the world.
Presently we passed through the meadows, climbed up the tree-cladslopes, and came to a little terrace under the city-wall. Full in thesunlight, sheltered from the wind, the pleasaunce made an idealrefectory. The view of the mountains, moreover, which it afforded wassuperb. I stole by the city gate and berthed Pong close to the lowparapet....
Ten minutes later Ping drew up behind us.
"Isn't this just lovely?" cried Adele, applying the hand-brake.
"It's unique," said I, advancing. "How did the car go?"
"Like a train," said Jonah, helping Daphne to alight. "I may add thatI've enjoyed being driven."
"Oh, Jonah, how nice of you!" cried Adele.
It was, indeed, a compliment worth having.
"I told you so," I said unctuously.
"And now," said Berry, "if you've quite done scratching one another'sbacks----"
"Vulgar brute!" said Daphne.
"I beg your pardon?"
My sister repeated the appellative.
Instantly her husband assumed an attitude of listening ecstasy.
"Hark!" he exclaimed dramatically. "I he-ear my lo-ove calling." Arapturous smile swept into his face. "It must be clo-osing time." Hechanged his tone to one of indicative solicitude. "More to the left,sweet chuck. No. That's the water-trough. I've got the pram here."
A master of pantomime, Berry can create an atmosphere with a look and aword. 'On the halls,' he would probably be a complete failure. On theterrace beneath the walls of St. Bertrand he was simply side-splitting.Daphne and Jonah included, we collapsed tearfully....
As we did so there was a roar of laughter behind us.
One and all, we turned blindly about, to see a slim figure in a greytweed suit dash for the gateway. As we looked, a grey hat flew off.The next moment its owner was within the walls.
I ran to the gateway and stared up a little paved street. It was quiteempty. After a moment I returned to pick up the hat. Looking at this,I saw that it came from Bond Street.
What was more remarkable was that twenty paces away was standing a greytwo-seater. It was quite evident that, for car and passenger toapproach without our knowledge, we must have been extremelypreoccupied, and the new-comer's engine uncannily silent.
After some discussion of the incident, we placed the hat in thetwo-seater and proceeded to lunch....
The meal was over, and Jonah and I were washing the glasses, when--
"Now, no guide-books, please," said my brother-in-law. "I've read itall up. Where we are now was the _ulularium_."
"Whatever's that?" said Jill.
"The howling-green," said Berry. "The monks used to come and howl herebefore breakfast."
"What did they howl for?" said Adele.
"It was a form," was the reply, "of mortification, instituted byAitchless the 'Alf-baked and encouraged by his successor, who presentedan empty but still fragrant beer-barrel to be howled for uponMichaelmas Eve." After the manner of a guide, the speaker preceded usto the gateway. "And now we come to the gate. Originally one-half itspresent width, it was widened by the orders of Gilbert the Gluttonous.The work, in which he took the deepest interest, was carried out underhis close supervision. Indeed, it was not until the demolition of thestructure had been commenced that he was able to be released from aposition which was embarrassing not only his digestion, but his peaceof mind, inasmuch as it was denying ingress to a cardinal who had muchinfluence at the Vatican and was wearing tight boots."
The steep, narrow street was walled by great houses of the fifteenthand sixteenth centuries, while at the top a little archway buttressed amansion of obvious importance.
"We now enter," said Berry, with the time-honoured flourish of thehired conductor, "the famous Bishops' Row. At one time or another, inevery one of these dwellings prelates of all sizes and shapes havesnored, swallowed, and generally fortified the flesh. Upon that doorwere posted the bulletins announcing the progress towards recovery ofRudolph the Rash, who in the fifteenth year of his office decided totake a bath. His eventual restoration to health was celebrated withgreat rejoicing. From that window Sandwich, surnamed the Slop-pail,was wont to dispense charity in the shape of such sack as he foundhimself reluctantly unable to consume. Such self-denial surprised evenhis most devoted adherents, until it was discovered that the bishop hadno idea that he was pouring libations into the street, but, with somehazy intention of conserving the remains of his liquor, invariablymistook the window for the door of a cupboard. The house on the leftis of peculiar interest. Behind those walls----"
"I wouldn't interrupt you for worlds," said Daphne, "and I'm sure thecathedral won't be half so interesting, but, perhaps, if we saw thatfirst...."
"That's right," said her husband. "Twist the sage's tail. Now I'velost my place. I shall have to begin all over again." He paused topass his hand across his eyes. Then he flung out an arm. "We nowenter the famous Bishops' Row. At one time or another, in every one ofthese dwellings prelates of all...."
We fairly fled up the street.
We had visited the shrine: we had wondered at the silver eloquence ofarchitects: we had examined one by one sixty-six of the most exquisitestalls that ever graced a choir: we had stared at thrones, pulpit,organ-case and a great frieze--all of them carved with a cunning whichmoney could never buy, and to-day great love and piety are too poor topurchase--we had walked in the cloisters: we had been shown the relics:and whilst the others were picking over some picture postcards, I waslooking at an old fountain in the cathedral square.
"I say," said a pleasant voice.
Upon the other side of the basin was a slim figure in a grey tweedsuit--a nice-looking boy of about twenty summers. His thick, dark hairwas uncovered, and there was a grave look in the big brown eyes.
"Hullo," said I. "You're the runaway."
"That's right," he said
He turned away hurriedly.
"Here, I say!" I cried, stepping after him. With his chin on hisshoulder the boy hesitated, like some wild thing. "Don't go," I added."It's quite all right. If my brother-in-law likes to make a fool ofhimself, why shouldn't you laugh?"
"I know, but----"
"My dear fellow," said I, "the more the merrier. Besides, we use thesame hatter. So let's be friends. You're all alone, aren't you?"
"Er--yes. I'm really staying at Pau, and, as I'd got nothing----"
"I knew I'd seen your car before. Didn't you go to Lourdes on Tuesday?"
The boy started.
"Yes, sir. I--I think I did."
He was really extraordinarily nervous.
"That's right," I continued. "We were on the way back from Cauterets.By the way, I see you've got one of the new models. How does she go?"
We walked down to the gate, talking easily enough....
By the time the others arrived, the two-seater's bonnet was open, and Ihad promised to teach him to change speed without taking out the clutch.
"Isn't that sweet?" said Jill's voice.
My companion started upright.
"You like it?" he said, flushing.
"I think it's wonderful," said my cousin.
So it was.
I have seen many mascots. But, seated upon the cap of the radiator, alittle silver reproduction of the Ares Ludovisi knocked memories ofnymphs, hounds, and urchins into a cocked hat.
"I'd like you to have it," said the boy suddenly. "Which is your car?"
"Oh, but I can't take it," cried Jill breathlessly. "It's awfullygenerous of you, but I couldn't think of----"
"Well, let's just see how it looks. You were in the first car, weren'tyou?"
It was about a thousand to one against the two caps beinginterchangeable, but the miracle came off. Once Ares was in his newseat, nothing would induce his owner to disestablish him.
"Keep him to-day, at least," he insisted. "Please do. I thinkit--it'll bring me luck."
"You're awfully kind," said Jill. "Why did you run away?"
Daphne took my arm and called Berry. Together we strolled up theterrace. Jonah was showing Adele the points of the two-seater.
"Who," said my sister, "is this attractive youth?"
"I've not the faintest idea," said I. "But he's staying at Pau."
"Well, Jill's got off," was the reply. "They're like a couple ofchildren."
"Ah!" said Berry unexpectedly.
"What on earth's the matter?" said Daphne.
"Listen," rejoined her husband. "I've laid an egg--metaphorically.We're all terrified of Jill getting pinched--againmetaphorically--aren't we? Very good. Let's encourage thisfriendship. Let it swell into an attachment. They're far too young tothink about marriage. Of course, we shan't see so much of her, but, asthe sainted Martin said, half a cloak's better than no bags."
"Dear lad," said Daphne, slipping her arm through his, "you're notlaying at all. You're getting broody." With that, she turned to me."And what do you think about it?"
"He's a gentleman," said I. "And he's a child. Children, I suppose,attract children. Let him be asked to tea, and they can play in thenursery."
"Thank you," said my sister. "Now I'll break it to you. Subject tothe usual formalities, Jill will marry that boy within the year."
"B-but it's absurd," bubbled Berry. "It's out of the question. They'dbe like the Babes in the Wood. What that he-child's doing on his own,I can't imagine. I should think he's a ward in Chancery who's givenhis guardians the slip. And the two together'd make a combinationabout as well fitted to cope with Life as a mute with a megaphone."
"On the contrary," said Daphne, "they'll get on splendidly. They'llturn the world into a playground. Wherever they go, everybody'll droptheir tools and go down on their knees and play with them." Shelaughed delightedly. "I tell you, it'll be like a fairy tale."
"Of course," I said, "I see what it is. You're at your old games."
"I'm not," was the fierce retort. "D'you think I want to lose Jill?But she'll have to go some day. It's inevitable. And the only thingshe could ever really love is a playmate. The finest lover in theworld would never find the trick of Jill's heart. Only a child can dothat. She might marry him easily--the lover, I mean. And she'd behappy, of course. But she'd miss the biggest thing in life. Well,eligible playmates are pretty scarce. I've been watching for one foryears. Mind you, I don't say this boy's going to do. There may be ascore of reasons that put his suit out of court. But, on the face ofit, he's nearer the mark than anything I've seen."
Thoughtfully we turned back the way we had come...
After a long silence--
"Any way," said Berry gloomily, "the first thing to do 's to find outwho he is. Perhaps Jill's done it."
"That," said my sister, "is the very last thing she'd think of."
We returned to where Ping and Pong were standing, to find that Jonahand Adele had disappeared, while Jill was being taught to drive thetwo-seater. The environs of Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges do not make agood school, but master and pupil cared not for that. Indeed, theywere so engrossed in their exercise that our approach was unobserved.
The two were at the top of their bent.
Flushed with excitement, laughing, chattering like old friends, ladyand squire were having the time of their lives. They were, certainly,wonderfully matched. If Jill was a picture, so was the boy. Hisgravity was gone. The fine, frank face was fairly alight withhappiness, the brown eyes dancing, the strong white teeth flashingmerriment. From being good-looking, he had become most handsome. Ifhe was to find the trick of Jill's heart, she had laid a pink fingerupon the catch of his charm.
For a moment we stood marvelling....
Then Jill saw us with the tail of her eye.
"I say," she cried, twittering, "he's going to teach me to drive. He'scoming to lunch to-morrow, and then we're going along the Morlaas road,because that'll be quiet."
As Adele and Jonah emerged from the gateway--
"You can't have the Morlaas road to-morrow," said Berry, "because I'vegot it. I'm going to practise reversing through goats. It's allarranged. Five million of the best new-laid goats are to be in line oftroop columns two kilometres south of the 'L' of a 'ill by threeo'clock."
Jill addressed her companion.
"We'll go another way," she said. "I don't suppose he's really goingthere, but, if he did.... Well, when he says he's going backwards onpurpose, we always get out of the car."
The naivete with which this unconsciously scathing criticism wasphrased and uttered trebled its poignancy.
Berry collapsed amid a roar of laughter.
Then Jonah pulled out his watch, and we began to arrange ourselves.That Jill might return with her brother and have her mascot too, we hadto swap cars; for, as the only two mechanics, Jonah and I nevertravelled together. I was sorry about it, for Pong was the apple of myeye. Seldom, if ever, had we been parted before. Jonah, I fancy, feltthe same about Ping.
Our new friend was going straight back. We, however, were proposing toreturn by Bagneres-de-Bigorre, and suggested that he should accompanyus. He shook his head gravely.
"No. I--I have to get back," he said heavily. "I must." Then hebowed to Daphne and to us all. "You've been very kind to me.Good-bye."
As he turned--
"Till to-morrow," I cried heartily. "You know where we live?"
"Oh, yes. You're Captain Pleydell."
"That's right. Oh, and--er--by the way, I don't think we know yourname."
For a moment the boy hesitated. Then he turned scarlet.
"N-neither do I," he said.
* * * * *
It was four o'clock by the time we reached Lannemezan, so, after alittle discussion, my wife and Berry and I de
Berry was driving like a professional. The fact, however, that betweenLannemezan and Tarbes the pleasant road was littered with moredog-carts and bullock-waggons than one would have expected any threedepartments of France to be able to furnish, tended to cramp his style.The uses, moreover, to which the occupants of these vehicles subjectedthe way argued a belief not so much in progress as in _esprit decorps_. As often as not the carts moved three abreast, their humancomplements comparing excited notes, gossiping and making merry with asmuch disregard of their whereabouts as if they were gathered in afamiliar tavern. As for the waggons, these were frequently unattended,their custodians trudging disinterestedly in rear, absorbed ingood-natured argument and leaving their bullocks to place their owninterpretation upon the rule of the road. Such confidence was seldommisplaced: still, for the driver of an approaching car to share it,demanded, I suppose, an experience of oxen which we did not possess.
After a few miles my brother-in-law's patience began to show signs ofwear and tear, and by the time we had reached Tournay it was positivelythreadbare. For this Adele and I paid almost as heavily as he. Butfor the horn by his side, many an infuriated chauffeur would have losthis reason. It is a kind of safety-valve. Berry's employment of thisconvenient accessory was characterised by a savagery which, ifdeplorable, is not uncommon. The frequency, however, with whichpassage simply had to be asked was truly terrible. Disapproval at onceso bitterly and constantly expressed was most distressing. Our headsbegan to ache violently....
To crown our annoyance, we picked up a cast shoe--with the inevitableresult. When, fortified by the knowledge that it was my turn to changethe wheel, Berry ventured to point out that such an acquisition wasextremely fortunate, the power of speech deserted me.
Dusk was falling as we ran into Tarbes....
"D'you think," said Adele, "that we could find a chemist? My headfeels as if it was going to burst."
We sought diligently without success. After a little we stopped andasked a postman. An apothecary of sorts, it appeared, was plying histrade two side-streets away. Adele and I descended to go and visit him.
I was rather sceptical about the virtue of the drug which waseventually produced to us, but, after a little discussion, we purchasedthe tablets and asked for some water with which to swallow them.
I must confess that when we returned to find no sign of the car, I wasextremely annoyed. It was rapidly growing dark and it had become cold.Adele was tired and had had no tea. The market was up, with the resultthat the streets were swarming. I cursed my brother-in-law withpardonable acerbity.
"It's all right, old chap," said Adele, taking my arm. "He's probablyjust around somewhere. Let's go and look for him."
He was not around anywhere.
We struggled to the right, we fought our way to the left, we pushed andwere pushed back to the _pharmacie_, and we returned laboriously to ourstarting-point. All the time we were devilled by the lingering ideathat Berry was searching for us, and that we were just avoiding him atevery turn. After another two minutes, I took my protesting wife backto the chemist's shop, requested his hospitality on her behalf, and,after seeing her received by a glowing Frenchwoman into an inner room,turned up my collar and advanced blasphemously into the street.
Almost immediately Berry stumbled into my arms.
"_The car!_" he gasped. "_A plant! Quick! Or they'll do us down!_"
I stared at him stupidly.
His coat was torn and he was streaming with sweat. Also his hat wasmissing, and there was a cut on his cheek.
"You're hurt," I cried.
"Right as rain," he panted. "Tell you 's we go." He started to peltup the street. I ran by his side. "'Bout two minutes after you'dgone--fellow ran up t' the car in hell of a state--firs' couldn' makeout what matter was--talked too fast--then gathered, you'd senthim--Adele had been taken ill--lie, of course--see now--never occurredto me at time--told him get on step and guide me--burst off upstreet--lef' ri' lef stunt--'fore knew where I was, cul de sac--pulledup--nex' second, both doors open and toughest cove 've ever seen toldme t' hop it--in bad American--round to t' left here--course I tumbledat once--dirty work--tried t' hit him--nothing doing--tried to lockcar--couldn't--hauled out anyhow--no good yelling--ran find you--oneray hope--out of petrol--I never stopped engine--petered out on itsown--can on step, I know--but they'll have to locate trouble--and thendecant--left again here ... no ... wait." He looked from side to sideanxiously. Then he swung round and glanced back. "Gad, I think we'rewrong." He started back frantically. "No, that's right. I 'memberthat cafe." We swung round again. Arrived once more at the corner,again he hesitated, twitching his lips nervously and sobbing for wantof breath. "These blasted streets," he jerked out. "I tried tomemorise 'em, but---- _There they are, Boy! There they are!_"
It was true.
Turning away from us into a street on our left, about forty paces away,was our own blue coupe....
But for the fact that a cart was presenting a momentary obstruction,our quarry would have been gone. As it was, I flung myself on to therunning-board as she was gathering speed....
Without a word, I thrust my arm in at the window and switched off theengine. As she slowed up I leapt for the bonnet, whipped it open andfelt for the high-tension wire. At that moment the enginere-started.... For a second whoever was driving fumbled with thegears.... As the wheels meshed with a chunk, my fingers found whatthey sought. The next instant the car lunged forward--and the wirebroke.
I fell on my back, certainly, and my hand was bleeding, but I couldafford to smile. The gun was spiked.
As I rose to my feet, the car came gently to rest twenty-five pacesaway.
"All right?" panted Berry by my side.
"Every time," said I. "And now for it." I turned to a gaping youth."_Allez cherche la police,_" I flung at him. "_Vite!_"
As we came up to the car--
"And may I ask," drawled a voice, "the meaning of this hold-up? Iguess you'll get tired of answering before you're through, but, as theowner of this vehicle, I'm just curious."
"Cut it out," said I shortly. "And just come out of that car. Both ofyou."
So far as the speaker's companion was concerned, my injunction wassupererogatory. Even as I spoke, with a scream of agony the latteremerged from the car. Holding him fast by the wrist, Berry had almostbroken his arm across the jamb of the door.
"And why?" said the voice imperturbably.
"Because the game's up." I opened the door. "Besides, to tell you thetruth, we're rather particular about our cushions. Till now, no onewith more than three previous convictions has ever sat on them."
With narrowed eyes, a very square-faced gentleman regarded me grimly.
"If you hadn't damaged my car," he said slowly. "I'd get out andrefashion your physiognomy. But I guess I'll wait for the police."And, with that, he drew a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, spat,and then lighted the brand with great deliberation.
I began to think rapidly.
Violence was out of the question. The fellow was far heavier than I,and obviously as hard as nails. Moreover, I felt instinctively thatthe Queensberry Rules did not mean much to him. As for cunning--well,we were not in the same class. Here was an audacity such as I had notdreamed of. Having lost one throw, the fellow was doubling his stake.Hook having broken in his hand, he had dropped it and picked up Crook._His game was to bluff the French police_. That was why he was stayingin the car--to give the impression of ownership. If he could maintainthis impression, make it easy for the police to wash their hands of adispute between foreigners, so find favour in their eyes, just turn thescale sufficiently to be allowed to proceed "pending the fullestinquiries"--it might go hard with us....
I fancy he read my thoughts, for he took the cigar fro
"Up against it, aren't you?" he said.
At last a _gendarme_ arrived, and five minutes later we were all on theway to the police-station.
This was not to my gentleman's taste, but he was too shrewd a knave topress his point. Honesty was his best policy. He did demand hotlythat I should be taken in charge, but I had the better of him inFrench, and after a moment he let that iron go. He fought very hardfor the services of a mechanic, but I was determined that the engineshould remain out of action, and, calling for volunteers upon the crowdof unlookers, soon satisfied the _gendarme_ that to push the car to thestation was easy enough.
Holding fast to the accomplice, who, for reasons best known to himself,was adopting an injured air in sulky silence, Berry walked by my side.
"What's his game?" he muttered. "In the face of our papers, he's done."
"He'll swear they're his, for a monkey. They're in the car. Probablyread them through, while you were looking for me. And all the detailsare on the Travelling Pass. But he's got to get over the photograph."
"Well, it's up to you," said Berry. "I used to think I could bluff,but this--this is beyond me."
When we arrived at the police-station the chief of the police wassummoned, and we told our respective tales.
Our enemy spoke first--shortly, but much to the point.
He was returning, he said, to Pau, where he was staying with friends.Finding that he had run out of petrol, while he was passing throughTarbes, he had turned into a side-street to refill without obstructinga main thoroughfare. As he was starting again, an assault had beenmade--an unprovoked assault--seriously damaging the car. Thereupon hehad sent for the police. Now, foiled in their enterprise, the thieves,he understood, were actually daring to say that he had assaulted them.One of them--he nodded at Berry--had certainly been roughly handled,but, Mon Dieu, what did they expect? (Here he took out his watch andfrowned at the dial.) And now would the police get to work? Hisfriends at Pau would be wondering what had become of him.
I admit that you could have pushed me over.
Upon the question of ownership the rogue said not a word. The wholeonus of raising that issue he had thrust on to me. I was to broach thebarrel of improbability, and by so doing to taint my whole case...
The police were manifestly impressed.
There was no doubt at all that we were up against it.
The asperity with which the official asked me what we had to say sentmy heart into my boots.
I started to tell my story.
The moment I said that the car belonged to us, police and robber staredat me as if bewitched. Then the latter exploded.
It was certainly very well done.
Such fulminations of outraged dignity, such out-pourings of righteousindignation, never were witnessed. It took the united sympathy andassurance of the whole personnel of the station, to smooth the ruffiandown. After a while, however, he condescended to see the humorousside. The police laughed with him....
Throughout my recital I had to endure the like.
As for the chief of police, he was plainly extremely bored. Helistened, patently because it was his duty to let me speak. His cold,indifferent air, the way in which his eyes went straying about theroom, were simply maddening.
Desperately endeavouring to keep my temper, I ploughed my way on.
At last--
"Listen," I said dramatically. "You do not believe me. I do not blameyou. My friend has told a good tale. At present it is my word againsthis. Supposing I bring some evidence?"
"What evidence can you bring?"
"The papers belonging to the car." I pointed to the usurper. "On hisown showing I cannot have seen them. Yet I will tell you theircontents. I pray you, send for them. They're in the left----"
"Wrong, sonny," said my antagonist, tapping his coat. "I always carry'em here." And, with that, he drew out our wallet and flung it uponthe desk.
With our Pass in his hands, the chief of the police blinked at me.
"The chassis number?" he said.
"P 1709."
Up went his eyebrows.
"And on the number-plates?"
"XD 2322."
The official folded the Pass and shook his head.
"Wrong," he said shortly.
As I stared at him, frowning--
"Yes, sonny," said the jeering voice. "An' don't go putting it up thatyou're J. Mansel, 'cause the picture's against you."
With the words the truth came to me.
It was Ping--Jonah's car--that was standing without in the street._And I had given Pong's numbers_....
With a grin of triumph the impostor rose to his feet.
"So that's that," he drawled. "Well, I guess I'll be moving. As forthese climbers----"
"Pardon me, sir," said Berry, in pretty fair French, "but you will donothing of the sort." He turned to the chief of the police andinclined his head. "I am a nobleman, and--I should like a chair."
For a moment the other stared at him; then he sent for a seat. Had Istood in his shoes, I should have done the same. My brother-in-law'sair was irresistible.
Berry sat down carefully.
"I shall not," he said, "keep you long. This is not my car. Itbelongs to my cousin, Captain Jonathan Mansel. Look at the Pass,please, and check me. Captain Mansel was born at Guildford, Surrey, isit not so? Good. Now I have given the birthplace." He shot out anaccusing hand. "_Ask that gentleman the date._"
For the second time the tough exploded, but with a difference. Thistime the wrath was genuine, the passion real. There was somethingbeastly about it. Beside this paroxysm the other outburst had beenalmost refined.
The official who had been about to speak looked at the fellowcuriously, and when, a moment later, the latter stretched out his handfor the Pass, he held up a prohibitive palm.
As the storm died down--
"Good," said Berry. "The gentleman doesn't want to. The date isDecember the fifteenth, 1891." He sighed profoundly. Then: "You havea _gendarme_ here," he said musingly, "called Jean Laffargue."
The chief of the police stared.
"Yes, _Monsieur_. He is there, by the door."
Berry nodded.
"He has a twin brother, hasn't he?"
"Perfectly, _Monsieur_. He is called '_Francois._'"
"Very likely," said Berry. "Very likely. I call him _Herbert_!"
"_Monsieur le Comte_," said Herbert, stepping into the room.
"Ah, Herbert," said Berry airily, "we meet again." He nodded at theofficial. "Just tell this gentleman about this morning, will you? Hewould, I think, be interested."
To say that Herbert came up to the scratch is to do scant justice tothe testimony which he gave and to the manner in which he gave it. Heswore to Berry: he swore to me: and in all honesty he swore to the car.For this, since Ping and Pong were duplicates, he may be forgiven. Hedescribed the morning's incident with a wealth of picturesque detailand an abundance of vivid imagery, while an astute cross-examinationonly served to adorn the sincerity of his tale.
Finally, in response to his entreaties, police and all, we followed himinto the street, where, displaying a histrionic ability which was trulyFrench, he proceeded to reconstruct and rehearse his great adventurewith the enthusiasm of a zealot.
Watch in hand, Berry touched the chief of the police upon the shoulder.
"By now," he said, "I think my cousin may have reached Pau. If youwould like to telephone...."
He stopped suddenly to peer right and left into the darkness.
The gentry had disappeared.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later, with a _gendarme_ on either step, we picked up ananxious Adele. Then we filled up with petrol, had my makeshiftconnection replaced by a new wire, and started for home.
As we passed the scene of our meeting with Herbert--
"Which goes to prove," said my brother-in-law, "the wisdom of catch
For a kilometre or so we sat in silence.
Then--
"It reminds me of poker on board ship," said I. "Our friend of thesquare jaw cuts in and, with the luck of an outsider, picks up fourkings."
"That's it," said Berry. "And we hold three aces."
"Exactly," said I.
"But four kings beat three aces," said Adele.
"You're forgetting Herbert," said I.
"No, I'm not," said my wife. "Herbert's the Ace of Spades."
"No, sweetheart," said Berry. "He's the joker."
* * * * *
It was early upon the following morning that a letter was brought byhand to our door.
_DEAR MRS. PLEYDELL,_
_I'm afraid you must have thought all sorts of things about me afterI'd gone yesterday, but I've just this moment had a telegram, and I'mso excited I can hardly write. I know my name now. You see, I used tobe the Marquis Lecco. Then, when Father died, they said he'd neverbeen the Duke at all, and so I had no name. But now it's all settled,and they've lost their case. And I can sign myself always,_
_Yours very sincerely, PADUA._