Blanding Castle Omnibus

by P. G. Wodehouse

  ‘Hoy!’ said Horace.

  He had raised a protesting hand. His eyes were the eyes of one who has passed through the furnace, and he was vibrating gently, as if he had swallowed a small auxiliary engine.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘That “we” stuff. Cut it out. Not in the mood.’

  Something seemed to tell Lord Ickenham that this was not the delightfully receptive Horace Davenport of their previous meeting, but he persevered.

  ‘My dear fellow, of course. I’m sorry if it annoyed you. Just one of those professional mannerisms one slips into. Most of my patients seem to find it soothing.’

  ‘They do, do they? You and your bally patients!’

  The undisguised bitterness with which the young man spoke these words confirmed Lord Ickenham in his view that there had been a hitch somewhere. However, he continued to do his best.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Don’t keep begging my pardon. Though, my gosh,’ said Horace shrilly, ‘you jolly well ought to. Pulling my leg like that. It may interest you to learn that I know all.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Yes. You’re not Sir Roderick Glossop.’

  Lord Ickenham raised his eyebrows.

  ‘That is a very odd statement to make. I confess I do not like the sound of it. It suggests a feverishness. Tell me, do we —’Will you stop it! Listen. You’re Valerie’s Uncle Fred. I’ve met someone who knows Glossop, and have had him described to me in pitiless detail.’

  Lord Ickenham was a man who could accept the inevitable. He might not like it, but he could accept it.

  ‘In that case, as you suggest, it is perhaps hardly worth while to try to keep up the innocent deception. Yes, my dear fellow, you are perfectly right. I am Valerie’s Uncle Fred.’

  ‘And it was Pongo Twistleton and Polly Pott that I met in the hall that time. It wasn’t a — what’s the word? A nice thing that was you three blisters did to me, making me think I was off my rocker. I realize now that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me at all.’

  ‘No doubt you are feeling much relieved.’

  ‘What I’m feeling, if you want to know, is considerably incensed and pretty dashed shirty.’

  ‘Yes, I can appreciate your emotion, and I can only say that I am sorry. It went to my heart to do it, but it was military necessity. You were in the way, and had to be removed by such means as lay to hand. Let me explain what we are all doing, visiting Blandings Castle incognito like this. Believe me, it was no idle whim that brought us here. We are hoping that Polly may succeed in winning the Duke’s heart, without him knowing who she is, thus paving the way for her marriage to your cousin Ricky. You know that pumpkin-headed old man’s views on class distinctions. If Ricky told him that he wanted to marry a girl of dubious origin — and I defy anyone to think of an origin more dubious than dear old Mustard — he would forbid the banns without hesitation. We are trying to put something over the stealth, and we could not trust your open, honest nature not to give the show away.’

  Horace’s just wrath gave way momentarily to bewilderment.

  ‘But I thought Ricky and Polly had split up.’

  ‘Far from it. It is true that after that affair at the Ball there was a temporary rift, but Polly’s womanly tact smoothed the thing over. He is once more one hundred per cent the devout lover.’

  ‘Then why does he want to murder me?’

  ‘He doesn’t.’

  ‘He does, I tell you.’

  ‘You’re thinking of someone else.’

  ‘I’m not thinking of someone else. I found him on the back of my car just now, and he distinctly stated that he was going to tear me into little shreds and strew me over the local pasture land.’

  ‘On the back of your car, did you say?’

  ‘Yes. As I climbed down from the front, he climbed down from the back and made a dive at me.’

  ‘I appear not to be abreast of the Stop Press situation,’ said Lord Ickenham. ‘You had better tell me your story — one, I can see, that promises to be fraught with interest.’

  For the first time, Horace brightened. It was plain that some pleasing thought had occurred to him.

  ‘It’s going to interest you, all right. Yes, by Jove, you’re going to sit up and take notice, believe me. A pretty nasty spot you’re in. The curse has come upon me, said the Lady of Shalott. What, what?’

  Lord Ickenham found him obscure.

  ‘You speak in riddles, my boy. A little less of the Delphic Oracle. Let your Yea be Yea and your Nay be Nay.’

  ‘All right. If you want the thing in a nutshell, then, Valerie is in full possession of the facts concerning your goings-on, and is coming here tomorrow at the latest.’

  Here was something Lord Ickenham had not anticipated. And though it was his habit to present on all occasions an impassive front to the blows of Fate, he started perceptibly, and for an instant his jaunty moustache seemed to droop.

  ‘Valerie? Coming here?’

  ‘I thought that would touch you up.’

  ‘Not at all. I am always glad to see my dear niece, always. You have run into her again, then?’

  Horace’s manner became more friendly. He was still resentful of the trick that had been played upon him and by no means inclined to accept as an adequate excuse for it the plea of military necessity, but he found it impossible not to admire this iron man.

  ‘I met her at a restaurant last night. I had gone there in pursuance of that idea we discussed of having the binge of a lifetime before tooling off to Bournemouth. You remember agreeing with me that it would be a good thing to go on a binge?’

  ‘Ah, yes. So I did.’

  ‘You also recommended me to steep myself in a beverage called May Queen.’

  ‘That’s right. The binge-goer’s best friend. Did you like it?’

  ‘Well, yes and no. Peculiar stuff. For a while it makes you feel as if you were sitting on top of the world. But, as you progress, a great sorrow starts to fill you. Quart One — fine. Joy reigning supreme and blue birds singing their little hearts out. The moment you’re well into Quart Two, however, the whole situation alters. You find yourself brooding on what a rotten world this is and what a foul time you’re having in it. The outlook darkens. Tears spring to the eyes. Everything seems sad and hopeless.’

  ‘This is most interesting. In my day, I never went into the thing as thoroughly as you appear to have done. One-Pint Ickenham, they used to call me.’

  ‘And I had just reached this second stage, when who should come in but Valerie, accompanied by an elderly female who looked as if she might have something to do with breeding Pekinese. They sat down, and the next thing I knew, I had squashed in between them and was telling Valerie how miserable I was.’

  ‘This must have interested her companion.

  ‘Oh, it did. She seemed absorbed. A decent old bird, at that. I owe everything to her. As soon as she got the hang of the situation, she started advocating my cause in the most sporting fashion. Valerie, I should mention, wasn’t frightfully sympathetic at the outset. Her manner was cold and proud, and she kept telling me to take my elbow out of her lap. But this fine old geezer soon altered all that. It seemed that there had been a similar tragedy in her own life, and she told us all about it.’

  ‘You revealed the facts about your broken engagement to this Pekinese-breeder, then?’

  ‘Oh, rather. Right away. There’s something about this May Queen of yours that seems to break down one’s reserve, if you know what I mean. And when I had given her a full synopsis, she related her story. Something to do with once long ago loving a bloke dearly and quarrelling with him about something and him turning on his heel and going to the Federated Malay States and marrying the widow of a rubber planter, all because she had been too proud to speak the little word that would have fixed everything. And years afterwards there arrived a simple posy of white violets, together with a slip of paper bearing the words: “It might have been.”‘

 
‘Moving.’

  ‘Very. I cried buckets. She then leaned across me and told Valerie that the quality of mercy was not strained but dropped like something or other on something I didn’t catch. I couldn’t quite follow it all, but the effects were excellent. I saw Valerie’s eye soften, and a tear stole into it. The next moment, we were locked in a close embrace.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Well, the long evening wore on, so to speak. The female Pekinese told us more about her Federated Malay Stater, and I went on crying, and Valerie started crying, too, and presently the Peke was also weeping freely, and it was at about this time that the head waiter came up and suggested that we should take our custom elsewhere. So we all went back to my flat and had eggs and bacon. And it was while I was doling out the dishfuls that I suddenly remembered that I was a loony and so had no right to marry a sweet girl. I mentioned this to Valerie, and then the whole story came out.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘The Peke, it appeared, knew Sir Roderick Glossop well, her cousin Lionel having been treated by him for some form of loopiness, and her description of the man made it clear that you couldn’t be him. So it seemed pretty obvious that you must be you.’

  ‘Remorseless reasoning.’

  ‘And when I speculated as to your motives for leading me up the garden path, Valerie snorted a bit and said it was plain that you were up to some kind of hell in this ancient pile and had wanted to get me out of the way. Which you admit to have been the case. She’s a most intelligent girl.’

  ‘Most. I have sometimes thought that it would be an admirable thing if she were to choke.’

  ‘And the outcome of the whole affair was that she went down to Ickenham this morning, just to make sure you weren’t on the premises — her intention, having ascertained this, being to breeze along here and expose you to one and all. And I saw that what I had got to do was make an early start and get here before she did. Because you see, though all is forgiven and forgotten between us, so to speak, and love has, as it were, come into its own again, there is just one small catch, that she seems a bit curious about Polly.’

  ‘You mean about your relations with her?’

  ‘Yes. She said in rather a sinister way that she supposed Polly was a very pretty girl, and my statement to the effect that she was a plain little thing whom I had taken to the Ball purely out of pity was none too cordially received. Her manner struck me as that of a girl who intended to investigate further.’

  ‘So your desire to have her arrive here and meet Polly and see what she really looks like is slight?’

  ‘Almost nil,’ confessed Horace frankly. ‘As soon as I could manage it, therefore, I drove here in the car to tell Polly to clear out while there was yet time.’

  ‘Very shrewd.’

  ‘I phoned her from the Emsworth Arms, arranging a meeting at the castle gate. I then hopped into the car and went there. And conceive my astonishment when, alighting from the prow, I observed Ricky alighting from the stern.’

  ‘It must have given you a start.’

  ‘It did. A flying start. I was off like a jack rabbit. And after I had gone about three quarters of a mile, touching the ground perhaps twice in the process, I found myself outside the castle and stopped and reviewed the situation. And I saw that having missed Polly, the best thing I could do was to get hold of you. I knew which your room was, of course, and I sneaked up with the idea of waiting till you came to dress for dinner. That I should have found you first crack out of the box like this is the one bit of goose I have experienced in the course of a sticky evening.’

  ‘You wish me, I take it, to find Polly and tell her not to be among those present when Valerie arrives?’

  ‘Exactly.’.

  ‘She shall be removed. Indeed, I rather think that none of us will be here to welcome the dear girl. I remember telling my nephew Pongo not long ago that the Twistletons do not clear out, but there are exceptions to the rule. If Valerie were in a position to report to GHQ that she had found me at B landings Castle posing as a brain specialist, the consequences might well be such as would stagger humanity. But if I am gone before she gets here, it seems to me that I am up against nothing that stout denial will not cover. So rest assured, my boy, that I will lose no time in collecting my young associates, and you shall drive us back to London in your car. Unlike the Arabs, who paused to fold their tents before silently stealing away, we will not even stop to pack.’

  ‘But how can I get at the car? I left Ricky standing guard over it.’

  ‘I think I shall be able to adjust your little trouble with Ricky satisfactorily. My first move shall be to go and explain things to him. I would suggest that you remain here till my return. If you prefer to hide in the cupboard in case your uncle happens to look in, by all means do so. Make yourself quite at home.’

  The evening was cool and fragrant and a soft wind whispered in the trees, as Lord Ickenham made his way down the drive. Despite the peril that loomed, his mood was serene. He was sorry to be obliged to leave Blandings Castle, which he had found a pleasant spot full of interesting personalities, but he could see that time had come to move on. And, after all, he reflected, his work was done. Polly had her money, Pongo had been promised his, and the Empress was safe from the Duke’s clutching hand. There was really, he felt, nothing to keep him. All he had to do now was to speak a few soothing words to this explosive young poet of Polly’s, and an agreeable episode might be considered closed.

  He was about half-way to the castle gate when he heard the sound of footsteps. A small figure was coming towards him through the dusk.

  ‘Polly?’

  ‘Hullo.’

  It seemed to Lord Ickenham that there was a flat note in the girl’s usually musical voice, and as he halted beside her he detected in her bearing a listlessness which struck him as odd.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t be evasive, child. The visibility may not be good, but I can see that you are drooping like a tired flower. Your depression is almost Pongoesque. Come on, now, what has happened?’

  ‘Oh, Uncle Fred!’

  ‘Hullo! Here, I say! Dash it, what’s all this about?’

  It was some moments later that Polly drew away, dabbing at her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been making a fool of myself.’

  ‘Nothing of the kind. A good cry is what we all want at times. I shall recommend it to Pongo. I think I can guess what is wrong. I take it that you have been having a talk with your young man. You went to meet Horace at the gate, and found Ricky. And from your manner, I gather that the plug-ugly rather than the poet was uppermost in him.’

  ‘He was awful. Not that you can blame him.’

  ‘Of course not, bless his heart, the little pet.’

  ‘I mean, I can understand how he must have been feeling. I had promised I would never see Horace again, and there I was, sneaking off to him.’

  ‘Don’t be so infernally broadminded, child. Why the devil shouldn’t you see Horace as often as you like? What right has this sweet-singing baboon to tell you whom you shall see and whom you shan’t see? What happened?’

  ‘He raved and yelled at me. He said everything was over.’

  ‘So he did a couple of days ago, after that Ball. But you smoothed him down.’

  ‘I couldn’t this time.

  ‘Did you try?’

  ‘No. I lost my temper, and started being as beastly as he was.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘It was horrible. He hated me.’

  ‘Do you hate him?’ ‘Of course I don’t.’

  ‘You mean that in spite of everything you love him still?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Women are amazing. Well, I’ll soon fix things. I’m on my way to interview him now.’

  ‘It won’t be any use.’

  ‘That’s what they said to Columbus. Don’t you worry, my dear. I can handle this. I know my potentialities, and sometimes
they absolutely stun me. Are there no limits, I ask myself, to the powers of this wonder-man? I am still completely unable to comprehend why you should want the chap, but if you do you must have him.’

  He walked on, and coming presently to the gate found the Bingley standing at the roadside. Pacing up and down in its vicinity like a tiger at feeding-time he perceived a sturdy figure.

  ‘Mr Gilpin, I presume?’ he said.

  17

  So many disturbing things had happened to Ricky Gilpin in the course of this April day that it is scarcely to be wondered at that his mood was not sunny. In a world congested with dukes and Potts and Horace Davenports and faithless girls, it is only an exceptionally philosophical man who can preserve his amiability unimpaired, and Ricky had never been that. He scowled darkly. He did not know who this elegant stranger was, but he was prepared to dislike him.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Ickenham.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I see that it is familiar. No doubt Polly has spoken of me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then in reciprocal spirit I will now speak of Polly.’ A quiver passed through Ricky Gilpin’s solid body. ‘No, you won’t. I’ve finished with her.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘I do say that.’

  Lord Ickenham sighed.

  ‘Youth, Youth! How it flings away its happiness like a heedless child,’ he said, and pausing for a moment to think what heedless children flung away added ‘blowing bubbles and throwing them idly into the sunlit air. Too bad, too bad. Shall I tell you a little story, Mr Gilpin?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Years ago’ — it would have taken a better man than Ricky to stop Lord Ickenham telling stories — ‘I loved a girl.’

  ‘You haven’t by any chance seen Horace Davenport, have you?’

  ‘Loved her dearly.’

  ‘If you do, tell him it’s no use his skulking away. I intend to wait here for weeks, if necessary.’