The moment the door closed I was speeding on my way. I recked little whether anybody saw me, and I should imagine that, had there been eyewitnesses, all they would have seen would have been a sort of blur. I did the first leg of the journey well inside the estimated time, and I had just laid hand on the tray and was about to lift and remove, when there came from outside the door the sound of footsteps.
It was a moment for swift thought, and such moments find Bertram Wooster at his best.
This morning-room, I should mention, was not the small morning-room where Dwight and little Seabury had had their epoch-making turn-up. In fact, I am rather misleading my public in alluding to it as a morning-room at all. It was really a study or office, being the place where Chuffy did his estate business, totted up his bills, brooded over the growing cost of agricultural apparatus, and gave the tenants the bird when they called to ask him to knock a bit off their rent. And as you can't get very far with that sort of thing unless you have a pretty good-sized desk, Chuffy had most fortunately had one put in. It stood across one whole corner of the room, and it seemed to beckon to me.
Two and a half seconds later, I was behind it, crouching on the carpet and trying to breathe solely through the pores.
The next moment, the door opened and somebody came in. Feet crossed the floor, right up to the desk, and I heard the click as the hidden hand removed the telephone receiver.
'Chuffnell Regis, two-niyun-four,' said a voice, and conceive the sudden rush of relief when I recognized it as one that I had many a time shaken hands with in the past – the voice, in short, of a friend in need.
'Oh, Jeeves,' I said, popping up like a jack-in-the-box.
You can't rattle Jeeves. Where scullery-maids had had hysterics and members of the Peerage had leaped and quivered, he simply regarded me with respectful serenity and, after a civil good morning, went on with the job in hand. He is a fellow who likes to do things in their proper order.
'Chuffnell Regis two-niyun-four? The Seaview Hotel? Could you inform me if Sir Roderick Glossop is in his room? ... Not yet returned? ... Thank you.'
He hung up the receiver, and was now at liberty to give the late young master a spot of attention.
'Good morning, sir,' he said again. 'I was not expecting to see you here.'
'I know, but ...'
'I had supposed that the arrangement was that we should meet at the Dower House.'
I shuddered a bit.
'Jeeves,' I said, 'one brief word about the Dower House, and then I should like the subject shelved indefinitely. I know you meant well. I know that when you sent me there your motives were pure to the last drop. But the fact remains that you were dispatching me to a nasty salient. Do you know who was lurking in that House of Fear? Brinkley. Complete with chopper.'
'I am very sorry to hear that, sir. Then I assume that you did not sleep there last night?'
'No, Jeeves, I did not. I slept – if you can call it sleeping – in a summer-house. And I was just creeping round through the bushes to try to find you, when I saw that parlourmaid setting out food on the table in here.'
'His lordship's breakfast, sir.'
'Where is he?'
'He should be down shortly, sir. It is a most fortunate chance that her ladyship should have instructed me to ring up the Seaview Hotel. Otherwise we might have experienced some difficulty in establishing connection.'
'Yes. What was all that, by the way? That Seaview Hotel stuff.'
'Her ladyship is somewhat exercised in her mind about Sir Roderick, sir. I fancy that on reflection she has reached the conclusion that she did not treat him well last night.'
'Mother Love not so hot this morning?'
'No, sir.'
'And it's a case of "Return and all will be forgiven"?'
'Precisely, sir. But unfortunately, Sir Roderick appears to be missing, and we can secure no information as to what has become of him.'
I was in a position, of course, to explain and clarify, and I did so without delay.
'He's all right. After an invigorating session with Brinkley, he went to my garage to get petrol. Was he correct in supposing that that would clean him as well as butter?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then I should think he was on his way to London by now, if not actually in the Metropolis.'
'I will notify her ladyship at once, sir. I imagine that the information will serve sensibly to lessen her anxiety.'
'You really think she loves him still and wishes to extend the amende honorable!'
'Or olive branch? Yes, sir. So, at least, I divined from her demeanour. I was left with the impression that all the old love and esteem were in operation once more.'
'And I'm very glad to hear it,' I said cordially. 'For I must tell you, Jeeves, that since we last got together I have completely changed my mind about the above Glossop. I see now that there is much good in him. In the silent watches of the night we formed what you wouldn't be far out in describing as a beautiful friendship. We discovered each other's hidden merits, and he left showering invitations to lunch.'
'Indeed, sir?'
'Absolutely. From now on, there will always be a knife and fork for Bertram at the Glossop lair, and the same for Roddy chez Bertram.'
'Very gratifying, sir.'
'Most. So if you're chatting with Lady Chuffnell in the near future, you can tell her that the match now has my full approval and sanction. But all this, Jeeves,' I proceeded, striking the practical note, 'is beside the point. The main issue is that I am sorely in need of nourishment, and I want that tray. So hand it across and look slippy.'
'You are proposing to eat his lordship's breakfast, sir?'
'Jeeves,' I said emotionally, and was about to go on to add that, if he had any doubts as to what I was proposing to do to that breakfast, he could remove them by standing to one side and watching me get action, when once more I heard footsteps in the passage outside.
Instead of speaking along these lines, accordingly, I blenched, as near as a fellow can blench when his face is all covered with boot polish, and broke off with a brief heart cry. Once more I perceived that it had become imperative that I vanish from the scene.
These footsteps, I must mention, were of the solid, sturdy, shoe-number-eleven type. It was natural, therefore, that I should assume that it was Chuffy who now stood without. And to encounter Chuffy, I need scarcely say, would have been foreign to my policy. I have already indicated with, I think, sufficient clearness, that he was not in sympathy with my aims and objects. That interview we had had on the previous night had shown me that he was to be reckoned as essentially one of the opposition – a hostile element and a menace. Let him discover me here, and the first thing I knew he would be locking me up somewhere in a spirit of chivalrous zeal and sending messengers to old Stoker to drop round and collect.
Long, therefore, before the handle had turned I was down in the depths like a diving duck.
The door opened. A female voice spoke. No doubt that of the future Mrs Constable Dobson.
'Mr Stoker,' it announced.
Large, flat feet clumped into the room.
18 BLACK WORK IN A STUDY
I wedged myself a little tighter in behind the old zareba. Not so good, not so good, a voice seemed to be whispering in my ear. Of all the unpleasant contingencies which could have arisen, this seemed to me about the scaliest. Whatever might have been said against Chuffnell Hall – and recent events had tended considerably to lessen its charm in my eyes – I had supposed that you could put forward at least one thing in its favour, viz. that there was no possible chance of encountering J. Washburn Stoker on the premises. And, in spite of having my time fairly fully occupied with feeling like a jelly, I was still able to experience quite a spot of honest indignation at what I considered a dashed unjustifiable irritation on his part.
I mean to say, if a man has thrown his weight about in a stately home of England, ticking off the residents and asserting positively that he jolly well isn't going to darken
its doors again, he has no place to come strolling in barely two days later as if the place were an hotel with 'Welcome' on the mat. I felt pretty strongly about the whole thing.
I was also wondering how Jeeves would handle this situation. By this time a shrewd bloke like this Stoker was bound to have guessed that his were the brains behind my escape, and it seemed not unlikely that he would make some tentative move towards scattering these brains on the hearthrug. His voice, when he spoke, undoubtedly indicated that some such idea was floating in his mind. It was harsh and roopy, and though all that he actually said by way of a start was 'Ah!' a determined man can get a lot of meaning into an 'Ah!'
'Good morning, sir,' said Jeeves.
This business of lying curled up behind desks cuts both ways. It has its advantages and its drawbacks. Purely from the standpoint of the slinking fugitive, of course, fine. Indeed, could scarcely be bettered. But against this must be set the fact that it undoubtedly hampers a chap in his capacity of audience. The effect now was much the same as if I had been listening in to a dramatic sketch on the wireless. I got the voices, but I missed the play of expression. And I'd have given a lot to be able to see it. Not Jeeves's, of course, because Jeeves never has any. But Stoker's, it seemed to me, would have been well worth more than a casual glance.
'So you're here, are you?'
'Yes, sir.'
The next item was an extremely nasty laugh from the visitor. One of those hard, short, sharp ones.
'I came here because I wanted information about where Mr Wooster has got to. I thought that Lord Chuffnell might possibly have seen him. I never reckoned I should run into you. Say, listen,' said the Stoker disease, suddenly hotting up, 'do you know what I've a mind to do to you?'
'No, sir.'
'Break your damned neck.'
'Indeed, sir?'
'Yes.'
I heard Jeeves cough.
'A little extreme, sir, surely? I can appreciate that the fact that I decided – somewhat abruptly, I admit – to leave your employment and return to that of his lordship should occasion displeasure on your part, but ...'
'You know what I'm talking about. Or are you going to deny that it was you who smuggled that guy Wooster off my yacht?'
'No, sir. I admit that I was instrumental in restoring his liberty to Mr Wooster. In the course of a conversation which I had with him, Mr Wooster informed me that he was being detained on the vessel ultra vires, and, acting in your best interests, I released him. At that time, you will recall, sir, I was in your employment, and I felt it my duty to save you from what might have been an extremely serious contretemps.'
I couldn't see, of course, but I received the impression from a certain amount of gurgling and snorting which he put in during these remarks that old Stoker would have been glad to have the floor a bit earlier. I could have told him it wasn't any good. You can't switch Jeeves off when he has something to say which he feels will be of interest. The only thing is to stand by and wait till he runs down.
But though he had now done so, it wasn't right away that the party of the second part started anything in the nature of a counterspeech. I imagine that the substance of Jeeves's little talk had given him food for thought.
In this conjecture, it appeared that I was correct. Old Stoker breathed a bit tensely for awhile, then he spoke in almost an awed voice. It's often that way when you get up against Jeeves. He has a way of suggesting new viewpoints.
'Are you crazy or am I?'
'Sir?'
'Save me, did you say, from—?'
'A contretemps? Yes, sir. I cannot make the assertion authoritatively, for I am not certain to what extent the fact that Mr Wooster came on board the yacht of his own volition would weigh with a jury...'
'Jury?'
'... but his detention on the vessel despite his expressed desire to leave would, I am inclined to imagine, constitute an act of kidnapping, the penalties for which, as you are no doubt aware, sir, are very severe.'
'But, say, listen ...!'
'England is an extremely law-abiding country, sir, and offences which might pass unnoticed in your own land are prosecuted here with the greatest rigour. My knowledge of legal minutiœ is, I regret to say, slight, so I cannot asseverate with perfect confidence that this detention of Mr Wooster would have ranked as an act in contravention of the criminal code, and, as such, liable to punishment with penal servitude, but undoubtedly, had I not intervened, the young gentleman would have been in a position to bring a civil action and mulct you in very substantial damages. So, acting, as I say, in your best interests, sir, I released Mr Wooster.'
There was a silence.
'Thanks,' said old Stoker mildly.
'Not at all, sir.'
'Thank you very much.'
'I did what I considered the only thing that could avert a most disagreeable contingency, sir.'
'Darned good of you.'
I must say I can't see why Jeeves shouldn't go down in legend and song. Daniel did, on the strength of putting in half an hour or so in the lions' den and leaving the dumb chums in a condition of suavity and camaraderie; and if what Jeeves had just done wasn't entitled to rank well above a feat like that, I'm no judge of form. In less than five minutes he had reduced this ravening Stoker from a sort of human wildcat to a positive domestic pet. If I hadn't been there and heard it, I wouldn't have believed it was possible.
'I've got to think about this,' said old Stoker, milder than ever.
'Yes, sir.'
'I hadn't looked at it that way before. Yes, sir, I've got to think about this. I believe I'll go for a walk and mull it over in my mind. Lord Chuffnell hasn't seen Mr Wooster, has he?'
'Not since last night, sir.'
'Oh, he saw him last night, did he? Which way was he headed?'
'I rather fancy it was Mr Wooster's intention to pass the night in the Dower House and return to London to-day.'
'The Dower House? That's that place across the park?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I might look in there. It seems to me the first thing I've got to do is have a talk with Mr Wooster.'
'Yes, sir.'
I heard him go out through the French window, but it wasn't till another moment or two had passed that I felt justified in coming to the surface. It being reasonable to suppose by then that the coast was clear, I poked the head up over the desk.
'Jeeves,' I said, and if there were tears in the eyes, what of it? We Woosters are not afraid to confess honest emotion, 'there is none like you, none.'
'It is extremely kind of you to say so, sir.'
'It was all I could do to keep from leaping out and shaking your hand.'
'It would scarcely have been judicious, in the circumstances, sir.'
'That's what I thought. Your father wasn't a snake-charmer, was he, Jeeves?'
'No, sir.'
'It just crossed my mind. What do you think will happen when old Stoker gets to the Dower House?'
'We can only conjecture, sir.'
'My fear is that Brinkley may have slept it off by now.'
'There is that possibility, sir.'
'Still, it was a kindly thought, sending the fellow there, and we must hope for the best. After all, Brinkley still has that chopper. I say, do you think Chuffy is really coming down?'
'At any moment, I fancy, sir.'
'Then you wouldn't advise my eating his breakfast?'
'No, sir.'
'But I'm starving, Jeeves.'
'I am extremely sorry, sir. The position at the moment is a little difficult. Later on, no doubt, I may be able to alleviate your distress.'
'Have you had breakfast, Jeeves?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What did you have?'
'The juice of an orange, sir, followed by Cute Crispies – an American cereal – scrambled eggs with a slice of bacon, and toast and marmalade.'
'Oh, gosh! The whole washed down, no doubt, with a cup of strengthening coffee?'
'Yes, sir.'
&nbs
p; 'Oh, my God! You really don't think I could just sneak a single sausage?'
'I would scarcely advocate it, sir. And it is a small point, but his lordship is having kippers.'
'Kippers!'
'And this, I fancy, will be his lordship coming now, sir.'
So down once more into the lower levels for Bertram. And I had hardly fitted myself into the groove when the door opened.
A voice spoke.
'Why, hallo, Jeeves.'
'Good morning, miss.'
It was Pauline Stoker.
I must say I was a bit peeved. Chuffnell Hall, whatever its other defects, should, as I have pointed out, have been entirely free from Stokers. And here they were, absolutely overrunning the place like mice. I was quite prepared to find something breathing in my ear and look round and see little Dwight. I mean to say, I was feeling – bitterly, I admit – that if this was going to be an Old Home Week of Stokers, one might as well make the thing complete.
Pauline had begun to sniff vigorously.
'What's that I smell, Jeeves?'
'Kippered herrings, miss.'
'Whose?'
'His lordship's, miss.'
'Oh. I haven't had breakfast yet, Jeeves.'
'No, miss?'
'No. Father yanked me out of bed and had me half-way here before I was properly awake. He's all worked up, Jeeves.'
'Yes, miss. I have just been having a conversation with Mr Stoker. He did appear somewhat overwrought.'
'All the way here he was talking about what he was going to do if he ever found you again. And now you tell me he did find you. What happened? Didn't he eat you?'
'No, miss.'
'Probably on a diet. Well, where has he got to? They told me he was in here.'
'Mr Stoker left a moment ago with the intention of visiting the Dower House, miss. I think he hopes to find Mr Wooster there.'
'Somebody ought to warn that poor sap.'
'You need experience no anxiety for Mr Wooster, miss. He is not at the Dower House.'
'Where is he?'
'Elsewhere, miss.'
'Not that I care where he is. Do you remember my telling you last night, Jeeves, that I was thinking of becoming Mrs Bertram W.?'
Thank You, Jeeves: Page 17