CHAPTER X
HOW BERRY SOUGHT COMFORT IN VAIN, AND NOBBY SLEPT UPON A QUEEN'S BED.
Time was getting on.
The season at Pau was approaching the end of its course. Alreadyvillas and flats and servants were being engaged for the winter tocome. We had been asked definitely whether we proposed to return and,if so, whether we wished again to occupy the excellent villa we had.Not knowing what answer to make to the first question, we had passed tothe second--somewhat illogically. The second had proved more heatedlydisputable than the first. Finally Jill had looked up from a letter toPiers and put in her oar with a splash.
"The villa's all right," she announced. "Everyone says it's the best,and so should we, if we didn't live in it. It's what's inside that'sso awful. Even one decent sofa would make all the difference."
In silence we pondered her words.
At length--
"I confess," said Berry, "that the idea of having a few chairs about inwhich you can sit continuously for ten minutes, not so much in comfortas without fear of contracting a bed-sore or necrosis of the coccyx,appeals to me. Compared with most of the 'sitzplatz' in this herevilla, an ordinary church pew is almost voluptuous. The beastly thingsseem designed to promote myalgia."
"Yet they do know," said I. "The French, I mean. Look at their beds."
"Exactly," replied my brother-in-law. "That's the maddening part ofit. Every French bed is an idyll--a poem of repose. The upholstererputs his soul into its creation. A born genius, he expresses himselfin beds. The rest of the junk he turns out..." He broke off andglanced about the room. His eye lighted upon a couch, lozenge-shaped,hog-backed, featuring the Greek-Key pattern in brown upon a brick-redground and surrounded on three sides by a white balustrade some threeinches high. "Just consider that throne. Does it or does it notsuggest collusion between a private-school workshop, a bricklayer'slabourer, and the Berlin branch of the Y.W.C.A.?"
"If," said Daphne, "it was only the chairs, I wouldn't mind. But it'severything. The sideboard, for instance----"
"Ah," said her husband, "my favourite piece. The idea of a doublecabin-washstand is very beautifully carried out. I'm always expectingFalcon to press something and a couple of basins to appear. Then wecan wash directly after the asparagus."
"The truth is," said Adele, "these villas are furnished to be let. Andwhen you've said that, you've said everything."
"I agree," said I. "And if we liked Pau enough to come back nextautumn, the best thing to do is to have a villa of our own. I'm quiteready to face another three winters here, and, if everyone else is, it'ld be worth while. As for furniture, we can easily pick out enoughfrom Cholmondely Street and White Ladies."
There was a moment's silence.
Then--
"I'm on," said Jonah, who had caught three splendid salmon in the lasttwo days. "This place suits me."
"And me," said Adele warmly.
My sister turned to her husband.
"What d'you think, old chap?"
Berry smiled beatifically. A far-away look came into his eyes.
"I shall personally superintend," he announced, "the removal anddestruction of the geyser."
Amid some excitement the matter was then and there decided.
The more we thought upon it, the sounder seemed the idea. The placesuited us all. To have our things about us would be wholly delightful.Provided we meant for the future to winter abroad, we should save money.
Pleasedly we proceeded to lunch.
Throughout the meal we discussed what manner of house ours must be,situation, dimensions, aspect. We argued amiably about its garden andcurtilage. We determined to insist upon two bathrooms. By the timethe cheese was served, we had selected most of the furniture and werebickering good-temperedly about the style of the wall-papers.
Then we rang up a house-agent, to learn that he had no unfurnishedvilla "to let" upon his books. He added gratuitously that, except fora ruined chateau upon the other side of Tarbes, he had nothing "forsale" either.
So soon as we had recovered, we returned to the charge...
The third agent we addressed was not quite certain. There was, hesaid, a house in the town--_tres solids, tres serieuse, dans unquartier chic_. It would, he thought, be to our liking. It had, forinstance, _une salle de fete superbe_. He was not sure, however, thatit was still available. A French gentleman was much attracted, and hadvisited it three times.
We were greatly disgusted and said so. We did not want a house in thetown. We wanted....
Finally we succumbed to his entreaties and promised to view the villa,if it was still in the market. He was to ring us up in ten minutes'time....
So it happened that half an hour later we were standing curiouslybefore the great iron gates of a broad shuttered mansion in the RueMazagran, Pau, while the agent was alternately pealing the bell for thecaretaker and making encouraging gestures in our direction.
Viewed from without, the villa was not unpleasing. It looked extremelywell-built, it stood back from the pavement, it had plenty of elbowroom. The street itself was as silent as the tomb. Perhaps, if wecould find nothing else.... We began to wonder whether you could seethe mountains from the second floor.
At last a caretaker appeared, I whistled to Nobby, and we passed up ashort well-kept drive.
A moment later we had left the sunlight behind and had entered a hugedim hall.
"Damp," said Berry instantly, sniffing the air. "Damp for a monkey. Ican smell the good red earth."
Daphne sniffed thoughtfully.
"I don't think so," she said. "When a house has been shut up likethis, it's bound to----"
"It's wonderful," said her husband, "what you can't smell when youdon't want to. Never mind. If you want to live over water, I don'tcare. But don't say I didn't warn you. Besides, it'll save us money.We can grow moss on the floors instead of carpets."
"It does smell damp," said Adele, "but there's central heating. See?"She pointed to a huge radiator. "If that works as it should, it'llmake your carpets fade."
Berry shrugged his shoulders.
"I see what it is," he said. "You two girls have scented cupboards. Inever yet knew a woman who could resist cupboards. In a woman's eyes asuperfluity of cupboards can transform the most poisonous habitationinto a desirable residence. If you asked a woman what was the use of astaircase, she'd say, 'To put cupboards under.'"
By now the shutters had been opened, and we were able to see about us.As we were glancing round, the caretaker shuffled to a door beneath thestairs.
"Here is a magnificent cupboard," she announced. "There are manyothers."
As we passed through the house, we proved the truth of her words. Ihave never seen so many cupboards to the square mile in all my life.
My wife and my sister strove to dissemble their delight. At lengthCousin Jill, however, spoke frankly enough.
"They really are beautiful. Think of the room they give. You'll beable to put everything away."
Berry turned to me.
"Isn't it enough to induce a blood-clot? 'Beautiful.' Evil-smellingrecesses walled up with painted wood. Birthplaces of mice.Impregnable hot-beds of vermin. And who wants to 'put everythingaway'?"
"Hush," said I. "They can't help it. Besides---- Hullo! Here'sanother bathroom."
"Without a bath," observed my brother-in-law. "How very convenient!Of course, you're up much quicker, aren't you? I suppose the idea isnot to keep people waiting. Come along." We passed into a bedroom."Oh, what a dream of a paper! 'Who Won the Boat-race, or The Battle ofthe Blues.' Fancy waking up here after a heavy night. I suppose thedesigner was found 'guilty, but insane.' Another two cupboards?Thanks. That's fifty-nine. And yet another? Oh, no. The backstairs,of course. As before, approached by a door which slides to and frowith a gentle rumbling noise, instead of swinging. The same warrantedto jam if opened hastily. Can't you hear Falcon on the wrong side witha butler's tray full of glass, wonde
ring why he was born? Oh, and thebijou spiral leads to the box-room, does it? I see. Adele's Americantrunks, especially the five-foot cube, will go up there beautifully.Falcon will like this house, won't he?"
"I wish to goodness you'd be quiet," said Daphne. "I want to think."
"It's not me," said her husband. "It's that Inter-Universitywall-paper. And now where's the tower? I suppose that's approached bya wire rope with knots in it?"
"What tower?" said Adele.
"_The_ tower. The feature of the house. Or was it a ballroom?"
"Ah," I cried, "the ballroom! I'd quite forgotten." I turned to theagent. "Didn't you say there was a ballroom?"
"But yes, _Monsieur_. On the ground-floor. I will show it to you atonce."
We followed him downstairs in single file, and so across the hall towhere two tall oak doors were suggesting a picture-gallery. For amoment the fellow fumbled at their lock. Then he pushed the two open.
I did not know that, outside a palace, there was such a chamber in allFrance. Of superb proportions, the room was panelled from floor toceiling with oak--richly carved oak--and every handsome panel wasoutlined with gold. The ceiling was all of oak, fretted with gold.The floor was of polished oak, inlaid with ebony. At the end of theroom three lovely pillars upheld a minstrels' gallery, while opposite astately oriel yawned a tremendous fireplace, with two stone seraphimfor jambs.
In answer to our bewildered inquiries, the agent explained excitedlythat the villa had been built upon the remains of a much older house,and that, while the other portions of the original mansion haddisappeared, this great chamber and the basement were still surviving.But that was all. Beyond that it was once a residence of note, hecould tell us nothing.
Rather naturally, we devoted more time to the ballroom than to all therest of the house. Against our saner judgment, the possession of theapartment attracted us greatly. It was too vast to be used withcomfort as a sitting-room. The occasions upon which we should enjoy itas '_une salle de fete_,' would be comparatively few. Four ordinary_salons_ would require less service and fuel. Yet, in spite ofeverything, we wanted it very much.
The rest of the house was convenient. The parlours were fine and airy;there were two bathrooms; the bedrooms were good; the offices wereadmirable. As for the basement, we lost our way there. It wasprofound. It was also indubitably damp. There the dank smell uponwhich Berry had remarked was most compelling. In the garden stood agarage which would take both the cars.
After a final inspection of the ballroom, we tipped the caretaker,promised to let the agent know our decision, and, to the greatinconvenience of other pedestrians, strolled talkatively through thestreets towards the Boulevard.
"I suppose," said Adele, "those were the other people."
"Who were the other people?" I demanded.
"The two men standing in the hall as we came downstairs."
"I never saw them," said I. "But if you mean that one of them was thefellow who's after the house, I fancy you're wrong, because the agenttold me he'd gone to Bordeaux."
"Well, I don't know who they were, then," replied my wife. "They weretalking to the caretaker. I saw them through the banisters. By thetime we'd got down, they'd disappeared. Any way, it doesn't matter.Only, if it was them, it looks as if they were thinking prettyseriously about it. You don't go to see a house four times out ofcuriosity."
"You mean," said Berry, "that if we're fools enough to take it, we'dbetter get a move on."
"Exactly. Let's go and have tea at Bouzom's, and thrash it out there."
No one of us, I imagine, will ever forget that tea.
Crowded about a table intended to accommodate four, we alternatelydisputed and insulted one another for the better part of two hours.Not once, but twice of her agitation my sister replenished the teapotwith Jill's chocolate, and twice fresh tea had to be brought. Berryburned his mouth and dropped an apricot tartlet on to his shoe. Untilmy disgust was excited by a nauseous taste, I continued to drink from acup in which Jonah had extinguished a cigarette.
Finally Berry pushed back his chair and looked at his watch.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we came here this memorable afternoonto discuss the advisability of taking a certain messuage--to wit, theVilla Buichi--for the space of three years. As a result of thatdiscussion I have formed certain conclusions. In the first place, I amsatisfied that to dwell with you or any of you in the Villa Buichi orany other habitation for the space of three years presents a prospectso horrifying as to belittle Death itself. Secondly, while my mainobject in visiting the said messuage was to insure, if possible,against the future contraction of some complaint or disease of thehams, I have, I fear, already defeated that object by sitting forupwards of ninety minutes upon a chair which is rather harder than theliving rock, and whose surface I have reason to believe is studded withbarbs. Thirdly, whilst we are all agreed that a rent of fourteenthousand francs is grotesque, I'd rather pay twice that sum out of myown pocket than continue an argument which threatens to affect my mind.Fourthly, the house is not what we want, or where we want it. Theprospect of wassailing in your own comic banqueting-hall is alluring,but the French cook believes in oil, and, to us, living in the town,every passing breeze will offer indisputable evidence, not only of thelengths to which this belief will go, but of the Pentateuchal effectswhich can be obtained by a fearless application of heat to rancidblubber. Fifthly, since we can get nothing else, and the thought ofanother winter in England is almost as soul-shaking as that of livingagain amid French furniture, I suppose we'd better take it, alwaysprovided they fill up the basement, put on a Mansard roof, add a fewcupboards, and reduce the rent. Sixthly, I wish to heaven I'd neverseen the blasted place. Lastly, I now propose to repair to the _CercleAnglais_, or English Club, there in the privacy of the _lavabo_ toremove the traces of the preserved apricot recently adhering to myright shoe, and afterwards to ascertain whether a dry Martini, cuppedin the mouth, will do something to relieve the agony I am suffering asthe direct result of concentrating on this rotten scheme to theexclusion of my bodily needs. But there you are. When the happinessof others is at stake, I forget that I exist."
With that, he picked up his hat and, before we could stop him, walkedout of the shop.
With such an avowal ringing in our ears, it was too much to expect thathe would remember that he had ordered the tea, and had personallyconsumed seven cakes, not counting the apricot tart.
However...
I followed him to the Club, rang up the agent, and offered to take thehouse for three years at a rent of twelve thousand francs. He promisedto telephone to our villa within the hour.
He was as good as his word.
He telephoned to say that the French gentleman, who had unexpectedlyreturned from Bordeaux, had just submitted an offer of fourteenthousand francs. He added that, unless we were prepared to offer ahigher rent, it would be his duty to accept that proposal.
After a moment's thought, I told him to do his duty and bade him adieu.
* * * * *
That night was so beautiful that we had the cars open.
As we approached the Casino--
"Let's just go up the Boulevard," said Daphne. "This is too lovely toleave."
I slowed up, waited for Jonah to come alongside, and then communicatedour intention to continue to take the air.
The Boulevard being deserted, Ping and Pong proceeded slowly abreast....
A sunset which had hung the sky with rose, painted the mountain-topsand turned the West into a blazing smeltery of dreams, had slowlyyielded to a night starlit, velvety, breathless, big with the gentlewitchcraft of an amber moon. Nature went masked. The depths upon ourleft seemed bottomless; a grey flash spoke of the Gave de Pau: beyond,the random rise and fall of a high ridge argued the summit of agigantic screen--the foothills to wit, odd twinkling points of yellowlight, seemingly pendent in the air, marking the farms and villasplanted about their flanks. An
d that is all. A row of poplars,certainly, very correct, very slight, very elegant, by the way that wetake for Lourdes--the row of poplars should be recorded; the luminousstars also, and a sweet white glow in the heaven, just where the ridgeof the foothills cuts it across--a trick of the moonlight, no doubt....Sirs, it is no such trick. That misty radiance is the driven snowresting upon the peaks of the Pyrenees. The moon is shining full onthem, and, forty miles distant though they are, you see them renderingher light, as will a looking-glass, and by that humble office clothingthemselves with unimaginable splendour.
As we stole into the Place Royale--
"Every minute," announced Adele, "I'm more and more thankful that we'requit of the Villa Buichi. We should have been simply mad to have takena house in the town."
"There you are," said Berry. "My very words. Over and over again Iinsisted----"
"If you mean," said Jonah, "that throughout the argument you confinedyourself to destructive criticism, deliberate confusion of the issues,and the recommendation of solutions which you knew to be impracticable,I entirely agree."
"The trouble with you," said Berry, "is that you don't appreciate thevalue of controversy. I don't blame you. Considering the backlash inyour spinal cord, I think you talk very well. It's only when----"
"What exactly," said Adele, bubbling, "is the value of controversy?"
"Its unique ability," said Berry, "to produce the truth. The hotterthe furnace of argument, the harder the facts which eventually emerge.That's why I never spare myself. I don't pretend it's easy, but thenI'm like that. Somebody offers you a drink. The easiest way is torefuse. But I don't. I always ask myself whether my health demandsit."
There was an outraged silence.
Then--
"I have noticed," I observed, "that upon such occasions your brainworks very fast. Also that you invariably choose the--er--harder path."
"Nothing is easier," said Berry, "than to deride infirmity." Havingcompassed the Place Royale, we returned to the Boulevard. "And now, ifyou've quite finished maundering over the beauties of a landscape whichyou can't see, supposing we focussed on the object with which we setout. I've thought out a new step, I want to show you. It's called'The Slip Stitch.' Every third beat you stagger and cross your legsabove the knee. That shows you've been twice to the Crusades. Thenyou purl two and cast four off. If you're still together, you get upand repeat to the end of the row knitways, decreasing once at everyturn. Then you cast off very loosely."
Happily the speaker was in the other car, so we broke away and fled upthe Rue du Lycee....
The dancing-room was crowded. Every English visitor seemed to bethere, but they were not all dancing, and the floor was just pleasantlyfull.
As we came in, I touched Adele on the arm.
"Will you dance with me, lass?"
I was not one moment too soon.
As I spoke, two gallants arrived to lodge their claims.
"I've accepted my husband," said Adele, smiling.
She had to promise the next and the one after.
Whilst we were dancing, she promised the fourth and the fifth.
"I can see," said I, "that I'm in for my usual evening. Of course,we're too highly civilised. I feed you, I lodge you, I clothe you"--Iheld her off and looked at her--"yes, with outstanding success. You'vea glorious colour, your eyes are like stars, and your frock is amarvel. In fact, you're almost too good to be true. From yourwonderful, sweet-smelling hair to the soles of your little pink feet,you're an exquisite production. Whoever did see such a mouth? Isuppose you know I married you for your mouth? And your throat?And--but I digress. As I was saying, all this is due to me. If I fedyou exclusively on farinaceous food, you'd look pale. If I locked youout of nights, you'd look tired. If I didn't clothe you, you'dlook--well, you wouldn't be here, would you? I mean, I know we movepretty fast nowadays, but certain conventions are still observed. Verywell, then. I am responsible for your glory. I bring you here, andeverybody in the room dances with you, except myself. To complete thecomedy, I have only to remind you that I love dancing, and that you arethe best dancer in the room. I ask you."
"That's just what you don't do," said Adele, with a maddening smile."If you did...."
"But----"
"Certain conventions," said Adele, "are still observed. Have I everrefused you?"
"You couldn't. That's why I don't ask you."
"O-o-oh, I don't believe you," said Adele. "If it was Leap Year----"
"Pretend it is."
"--and I wanted to dance with you----"
"Pretend you do."
The music stopped with a crash, and a moment later a Frenchman wasbowing over my wife's hand.
"May I come for a dance later?" he asked.
"Not this evening. I've promised the next four----"
"There will, I trust, be a fifth?"
"--and, after that, I've given my husband the lot. You do understand,don't you? You see, I must keep in with him. He feeds me and lodgesme and clothes me and----"
The Frenchman bowed.
"If he has clothed you to-night, Madame, I can forgive him anything."
We passed to a table at which Berry was superintending the icing ofsome champagne.
"Ah, there you are!" he exclaimed. "Had your evening dance? Good. Iordered this little hopeful _pour passer le temps_. They've two morebaubles in the offing, and sharp at one-thirty we start on fried eggsand beer. Judging from the contracts into which my wife has enteredduring the last six minutes, we shall be here till three." Here heproduced and prepared to inflate an air-cushion. "The great wheezeabout these shock-absorbers is not to----"
There was a horrified cry from Daphne and a shriek of laughter fromAdele and Jill.
"I implore you," said my sister, "to put that thing away."
"What thing?" said her husband, applying the nozzle to his lips.
"That cushion thing. How could you----"
"What! Scrap my blow-me-tight?" said Berry. "Darling, you rave.You're going to spend the next four hours afloat upon your beautifultoes, with a large spade-shaped hand supporting the small of your back.I'm not. I'm going to maintain a sitting posture, with one of the'nests for rest' provided by a malignant Casino directly interveningbetween the base of my trunk and the floor. Now, I know thatintervention. It's of the harsh, unyielding type. Hence thisair-pocket."
With that, he stepped on to the floor, raised the air-cushion as if itwere an instrument of music, and, adopting the attitude and manners ofa cornet soloist, exhaled into the nozzle with all his might.
There was a roar of laughter.
Then, mercifully, the band started, and the embarrassing attention ofabout sixty pairs of eyes was diverted accordingly.
A moment later my brother-in-law and I had the table to ourselves.
"And now," said Berry, "forward with that bauble. The Rump Parliamentis off."
Perhaps, because it was a warm evening, the Casino's furnaces were infull blast. After a while the heat became oppressive. Presently Ileft Berry to the champagne and went for a stroll in the Palmarium.
As I was completing my second lap--
"Captain Pleydell," said a dignified voice.
I turned to see Mrs. Waterbrook, leaning upon a stick, accompanied by aremarkably pretty young lady with her hair down her back.
I came to them swiftly.
"Have you met with an accident?" I inquired.
"I have. I've ricked my ankle. Susan, this is Captain Pleydell, whosecousin is going to marry Piers. Captain Pleydell, this is Susan--myonly niece. Now I'm going to sit down." I escorted her to a chair."That's better. Captain Pleydell, have you seen the Chateau?"
"Often," said I. "A large grey building with a red keep, close to thescent-shop."
"One to you," said Mrs. Waterbrook. "Now I'll begin again. CaptainPleydell, have you seen the inside of the Chateau?"
"I have not."
"Then you ought," said Mrs. Wate
rbrook, "to be ashamed of yourself.You've been six months in Pau, and you've never taken the trouble to goand look at one of the finest collections of tapestries in the world.What are you doing to-morrow morning?"
"Going to see the inside of the Chateau," I said.
"Good. So's Susan. She'll meet you at the gate on the Boulevard athalf-past ten. She only arrived yesterday, and now her mother wantsher, and she's got to go back. She's wild to see the Chateau beforeshe goes, and I can't take her because of this silly foot."
"I'm awfully sorry," said I. "But it's an ill wind, etc."
"Susan," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "that's a compliment. Is it your first?"
"No," said Susan. "But it's the slickest."
"The what?" cried her aunt.
"I mean, I didn't see it coming."
I began to like Susan.
"'Slickest,'" snorted Mrs. Waterbrook. "Nasty vulgar slang. If youwere going to be here longer, Captain Pleydell's wife should give youlessons in English. She isn't a teacher, you know. She's anAmerican--with a silver tongue. And there's that wretched bell." Sherose to her feet. "If I'd remembered that Manon had more than threeacts, I wouldn't have come." She turned to me. "Is Jill hereto-night?"
"She is."
"Will you tell her to come and find us in the next interval?"
"I will."
"Good. Half-past ten to-morrow. Good night."
On the way to the doors of the theatre she stopped to speak withsomeone, and Susan came running back.
"Captain Pleydell, is your wife here?"
I nodded.
"Well, then, when Jill's with Aunt Eleanor, d'you think I could--Imean, if you wouldn't mind, I'd--I'd love a lesson in English."
I began to like Susan more than ever.
"I'll see if she's got a spare hour to-morrow," I said. "At half-pastten."
Susan knitted her brows.
"No, don't upset that," she said quickly. "It doesn't matter. I wantto be able to tell them I had you alone. But if I could say I'd metyour wife, too, it'd be simply golden."
As soon as I could speak--
"You wicked, forward child," I said. "You----"
"Toodle-oo," said Susan. "Don't be late."
Somewhat dazedly I turned in the direction of the _salle de danse_--sodazedly, in fact, that I collided with a young Frenchman who waswatching the progress of _le jeu de boule_. This was hardlyexhilarating. Of the seven beings gathered about the table, six werecroupiers and the seventh was reading _Le Temps_.
I collided roughly enough to knock a cigarette out of my victim's hand.
"Toodle-oo--I mean _pardon, Monsieur. Je vous demande pardon._"
"It's quite all right," he said, smiling. "I shouldn't have beenstanding so far out."
I drew a case from my pocket.
"At least," I said, "you'll allow me to replace the cigarette"--he tookone with a laugh--"and to congratulate you upon your beautiful English."
"Thank you very much. For all that, you knew I was French."
"In another minute," said I, "I shall be uncertain. And I'm sure you'ddeceive a Frenchman every time."
"I do frequently. It amuses me to death. Only the other day I had toproduce my passport to a merchant at Lyons before he'd believe I was aforeigner."
"A foreigner?" I cried, with bulging eyes. "Then you are English."
"I'm a pure-bred Spaniard," was the reply. "I tell you, it's mostdiverting. Talk about ringing the changes. I had a great time duringthe War. I was a perfect mine of information. It wasn't strictlyaccurate, but Germany didn't know that. As a double-dyed traitor, theyfound me extremely useful. As a desirable neutral, I cut a great dealof ice. And now I'm loafing. I used to take an interest in theprevention of crime, but I've grown lazy."
For a moment or two we stood talking. Then I asked him to come to ourtable in the dancing-room. He declined gracefully.
"I'm Spanish enough to dislike Jazz music," he said.
We agreed to meet at the Club on the following day, and I rejoinedBerry to tell him what he had missed.
I found the fifth dance in full swing and my brother-in-law in highdudgeon.
As I sat down, he exploded.
"This blasted breath-bag is a fraud. If you blow it up tight, it'slike trying to sit on a barrel. If you fill it half full, you mustn'tmove a muscle, or the imprisoned air keeps shifting all over the placetill one feels sick of one's stomach. In either case it's as hard aspetrified bog-oak. If you only leave an imperial pint in the vessel,it all goes and gathers in one corner, thus conveying to one theimpression that one is sitting one's self upon a naked chair with atennis-ball in one's hip-pocket. If one puts the swine behind one, itshoves one off the seat altogether. It was during the second phasethat one dropped or let fall one's cigar into one's champagne. Onehadn't thought that anything could have spoiled either, but one waswrong."
I did what I could to soothe him, but without avail.
"I warn you," he continued, "there's worse to come. Misfortunes huntin threes. First we fool and are fooled over that rotten villa. Nowthis balloon lets me down. You wait."
I decided that to argue that the failure of the air-cushion couldhardly be reckoned a calamity would be almost as provocative as tosuggest that the immersion of the cigar should rank as the thirddisaster, so I moistened the lips and illustrated an indictment of ourpresent system of education by a report of my encounter with Susan.
Berry heard me in silence, and then desired me to try the chairs at theChateau, and, if they were favouring repose, to inquire whether theplace would be let furnished. Stifling an inclination to assault him,I laughed pleasantly and related my meeting with the engaging Spaniard.When I had finished--
"How much did you lend him?" inquired my brother-in-law. "Or is a palof his taking care of your watch?"
The fox-trot came to an end, and I rose to my feet.
"The average weight," I said, "of the spleen is, I believe, six ounces.But spleens have been taken weighing twenty pounds."
"Net or rod?" said Berry.
"Now you see," I continued, "why you're so heavy on the chairs."
With that, I sought my wife and led her away to watch the Baccarat....
Before we had been in the gaming room for twenty seconds, Adele caughtme by the arm.
"D'you see that man over there, Boy? With a bangle on his wrist?"
"And a shirt behind his diamond? I do."
"That's one of the men I saw in the Villa Buichi."
"The devil it is," said I. "Then I take it he's the new lessee. Well,well. He'll go well with the ballroom, won't he?"
It was a gross-looking fellow, well-groomed and oily. His fat handswere manicured and he was overdressed. He gave the impression thatmoney was no longer an object. As if to corroborate this, he had beenwinning heavily. I decided that he was a bookmaker.
While I was staring, Adele moved to speak with a friend.
"And who," said a quiet voice, "is attracting such faithful attention?"
It was the Spaniard.
"You see that fat cove?" I whispered. "He did us out of a houseto-day. Overbid us, you know."
My companion smiled.
"No worse than that?" he murmured. "You must count yourselves lucky."
I raised my eyebrows.
"You know him?"
The other nodded.
"Not personally, of course," he said. Then: "I think he's retired now."
"What was he?" said I.
"The biggest receiver in France."
* * * * *
Ere we retired to rest, my brother-in-law's prophecy that there was'worse to come' was distressingly fulfilled.
As the 'evening' advanced, it improved out of all knowledge. The laterthe hour, the hotter became the fun. Berry's ill humour fell away.Adele and I danced furiously together. Vain things were imagined andfound diverting. Hospitality was dispensed. The two spare 'baubles'were reinforced....
<
br /> Not until half-past two was the tambourine of gaiety suffered to tumblein its tracks.
We climbed into the cars flushed and hilarious....
Late though we were, whenever we had been dancing there was one memberof the household who always looked for our return and met us upon ourthreshold.
Nobby.
However silently the cars stole up the drive, by the time the door wasopened, always the Sealyham was on parade, his small feet together, histail up, his rough little head upon one side, waiting to greet us withan explosion of delight. In his bright eyes the rite was never stale,never laborious. It was the way of his heart.
Naturally enough, we came to look for his welcome. Had we looked invain some night, we should have been concerned....
We were concerned this night.
We opened the door to find the hall empty.
Nobby was not upon parade.
Tired as we were, we searched the whole house. Presently I found anote upon my pyjamas.
_SIR,_
_Must tell you we cannot find Nobby, the chauffeur and me lookingeverywhere and Fitch as been out in Pau all evening in quest. Hopinghis whereabouts is perhaps known to you,_
_Yours respectfully, J. FALCON._
I was at the Villa Buichi the following morning by a quarter to ten.
It seemed just possible that the terrier was there a captive. That hewas with us before we visited the house we well remembered. Whether hehad entered with us and, if so, left when we did, we could not be sure.We had had much to think about....
The caretaker took an unconscionable time to answer the bell, and whenI had stated my business, stoutly refused to let me search the villawithout an order. My offer of money was offensively refused. I had tocontent myself with standing within the hall and whistling as loud as Icould. No bark replied, but I was not satisfied, and determined toseek the agent and obtain a permit, the moment that Susan and I had'done' the Chateau.
It was in some irritation that I made my way to the Boulevard. I hadno desire to see the inside of the Chateau then or at any time; Iparticularly wished to prosecute my search for the Sealyham withoutdelay. I had had less than four hours' sleep, and was feeling rotten.
In a smart white coat and skirt and a white felt hat over one eye,Susan looked most attractive. Her fresh, pretty face was glowing, herwonderful golden hair was full of lights, and the line of her slimfigure, as--hands thrust deep into her coat-pockets--she leaned hersmall back against the balustrade, was more than dainty. Her littlefeet and ankles were those of a thoroughbred.
As I descended from the car--
"I say," said Susan, "I've got a stone in my shoe. Where can I get itout?"
I eyed her severely.
"You will have a lot to tell them," I said, "won't you? Go on. Getinto the car."
She climbed in, sat down and leaned back luxuriously. Then she thrustout a foot with the air of a queen....
When I had replaced her shoe, she thanked me with a shy smile. Then--
"I say," she said suddenly, "don't let's go to the Chateau. I don'twant to see the rotten place. Let's go for a drive instead--somewherewhere you can let her out. And on the way back you can take me to getsome gloves."
"Susan," said I, "there's nothing doing. I know a drive in ahigh-powered car sounds a good deal more _chic_ than being shown rounda Chateau, but you can't have everything. Orders is orders. Besides,I've lost my dog, and I want to get a move on. But for that, youshould have done the Chateau and had your drive into the bargain. Asit is...."
Susan is a good girl.
The moment she heard of my trouble, she was out of the car and halingme up to the Chateau as if there was a mob at our heels....
I was not in the mood for sightseeing, but my annoyance went downbefore the tapestries as wheat before the storm.
Standing before those aged exquisites--those glorious embodiments ofpatience infinite, imagination high, and matchless craftsmanship, Iforgot everything. The style of them was superb. They had quality.About them was nothing mean. They were so rich, so mellow, sodelicate. There was a softness to the lovely tones no brush could evercompass. Miracles of detail, marvels of stately effect, the panelswere breathing the spirit of their age. Looking upon them, I steppedinto another world. I heard the shouts of the huntsmen and thelaughter of the handmaidens, I smelled the sweat of the chargers andthe sweet scent of the grapes, I felt the cool touch of the shade uponmy cheeks. Always the shouts were distant, the scent faint, thelaughter low. I wandered up faery glades, loitered in lazy markets,listened to the music of fountains, sat before ample boards, bowed overlily-white hands....
Here, then, was magic. Things other than silk went to the weaving ofso potent a spell. The laborious needle put in the dainty threads: thehearts of those that plied it put in most precious memories--treasuresof love and laughter ... the swift brush of lips ... the echo of a callin the forest ... a patch of sunlight upon the slope of a hill ... suchstuff, indeed, as dreams are made on....
And there is the bare truth, gentlemen, just as I have stumbled uponit. The tapestries of Pau are dreams--which you may go and share anyday except Sundays.
We had almost finished our tour of the apartments, and were standing inthe Bedroom of Jeanne d'Albret, staring at a beautiful Gobelin, when Iheard the "flop" of something alighting upon the floor.
With one consent, the keeper, Susan, and I swung on our heels.
Advancing stiffly towards us and wagging his scrap of a tail was asmall grey-brown dog. His coat was plastered with filth, upon one ofhis ears was a blotch of dried blood, his muzzle and paws might havebeen steeped in liquid soot. He stank abominably.
I put up a hand to my head.
"Nobby?" I cried, peering. And then again, "_Nobby?_"
The urchin crept to my feet, put his small dirty head on one side,lowered it to the ground, and then rolled over upon his back. With hislegs in the air, he regarded me fixedly, tentatively wagging his tail.
Dazedly I stooped and patted the mud upon his stomach....
The bright eyes flashed. Then, with a squirm, the Sealyham was on hisfeet and leaping to lick my face.
"B-b-but," shrieked Susan, shaking me by the arm, "is this the--the dogyou'd lost?"
"Yes," I shouted, "it is!"
Not until then did the custodian of the apartments find his tongue.
"It is your dog, then!" he raved. "He has marched with us all thetime, and I have not seen him. Without an attachment in all thesenoble rooms! _Mon Dieu!_ dogs may not enter even the grounds, but hemust junket in the Chateau, all vile as he is and smelling like twentygoats."
"Listen," said I. "It's my dog all right, but I never brought him.I've been looking all over Pau. What on earth----"
"But you must have brought him. It is evident. Myself I have shut allthe doors. No one has the keys except me. It is impossible."
I pointed to the carved bedstead.
"See for yourself," said I. "He's just jumped down."
The keeper ran to the bed and peered behind the gorgeous parapet. Thenhe let out a scream of agony.
"Ah, it is true. Ten thousand devils! That so beastly a dog shouldhave soiled Jeanne d'Albret's bed! Observe the nest he has made in hercounterpane. _Mon Dieu!_ it is scandalous. _Monsieur_, you willanswer for this."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," said I. "But, unless you keep yourmouth shut, you will. You shouldn't have let him get in."
I thought the fellow would have choked.
"But it was not I that---- A-a-ah!" he screamed. "See how heapproaches the Queen's screen, to destroy it as he has destroyed herbed."
"Nonsense," I said shortly. "He's very struck with the furniture.That's all. Anybody would be. But how the deuce...."
With tears in his eyes the keeper besought me to remove my dogforthwith.
In the circumstances, it seemed best to comply, so, wishing very muchthat Nobby could speak for himself, I tied my handkerchief t
o hiscollar and, with Susan chattering excitedly and clinging to my arm,followed our gibbering guide to the foot of the great staircase.
"He must have followed him in," cried Susan. "He simply must. Ilooked at the chimney, but it's stopped up, and the man says there's noother door. And you know he unlocked each one as we came to it thismorning."
"But why's he so filthy?" I said. "And how did he fetch up here?Let's see. He must have come with us as far as Bouzom's. That's onlyfive minutes from here. Then we forgot all about him and left himoutside. We were there for ages. I suppose he got fed up with waitingor found a pal or something, and drifted down here. All the same...."I turned to the custodian and took out a fifty-franc note. "He doesn'tusually pay so much for a room, but, as this isn't a hotel and he hadJeanne d'Albret's bed...."
The money passed in silence.
I fancy the keeper dared not trust himself to speak.
After all, I was very thankful that Nobby was found.
As we passed out of the gate, a sudden thought came to me, and I turnedback.
"I say," I cried, "when last did you visit that room?"
"The Queen's room, _Monsieur_?"
I nodded.
"Yesterday morning, Monsieur. At nine o'clock."
You could have knocked me down.
I walked towards the car like a man in a dream.
The business smacked of a conjuring trick.
Having lost the terrier in the town, I had been sent to view theChateau against my will, there to discover my missing chattel in alocked chamber upon the second floor.
To add to the confusion of my wits, Susan was talking furiously.
"...I've read of such things. You know. In case of a revolution, forthe king to escape. They say there's one at Buckingham Palace."
"One what?" said I abstractedly.
"Underground passage," said Susan. "Leading out into the open. Theone from Buckingham Palace goes into a house, I suppose it was countryonce, and then the ground was built over, or, of course, it mightalways have led into the house, and they just had loyal people livingthere or someone from the Court, so that----"
"Heaven and earth!" I roared. "The Villa Buichi."
Susan recoiled with a cry.
I caught her white arm.
"Susan," I yelled, "you've got it in one! The last time we saw him wasthere. It's a house we saw yesterday. We thought of taking it, but,as soon as he saw us coming, another chap got in quick."
"What a shame!" said Susan. "If only you'd had it, you'd 've been ableto go and look at the tapestries whenever you---- Oh, whatever's thematter?"
I suppose my eyes were blazing. I know my brain was.
The murder was out.
"I must see my friend, the Spaniard," I said. "He's made a mistake._The biggest receiver in France has not retired_."
Susan stared at me with big eyes.
With a smile, I flung open its door and waved her into the car....
I followed her in.
Then I put my arm round her waist and kissed her pink cheek.
"Now," said I, "you _will_ have something to tell them."
Susan gurgled delightedly.
* * * * *
The French are nothing if not artistic. They are also good showmen.
It was largely due to the interest of Senor Don Fedriani that, fivedays later, I had the privilege of sitting for fifty minutes upon anextremely uncomfortable chair in the Oratory of Jeanne d'Albret, andlistening at intervals, by means of a delicate instrument, to thebiggest receiver in France and his confederates stumbling still moreuncomfortably along a dank and noisome passage towards penal servitudefor life.
Had he known that the Villa Buichi was surrounded, that the caretakerwas already in custody, that a file of soldiers was following a quarterof a mile in his rear, and that the van which was to take him to prisonwas waiting in the Chateau's courtyard, my gentleman, who had 'livedsoft,' could not have been more outspoken about the condition of hispath.
Not until he had quite finished and had inquired in a blasphemouswhisper if all were present, was the strip of magnesium ignited and thephotograph made....
I have a copy before me.
The knaves are not looking their best, but the grouping is superb.
_The Toilet of Venus_ makes a most exquisite background.
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