Blanding Castle Omnibus

by P. G. Wodehouse

  ‘I remember.’ Those were your very words.’

  ‘Well, I am.’

  Something of the bewilderment recently exhibited by Beach showed itself on Lord Ickenham’s face. This was a totally un-expected development. A shrewd judge of form, he had supposed that only infinite patience and a compelling series of pep talks would have been able to screw this man’s courage to the sticking point and turn him, as he appeared to have been turned, into a whirlwind wooer. very unpromising wedding bells material his old friend had seemed to him in the previous talks they had had together, and he had almost despaired of bringing about the happy ending. For if a suitor’s nerve fails him every time he sees the adored object sideways, it is seldom that he can accomplish anything constructive.’ Yet now it was plain that something had occurred to change James Schoonmaker from the timorous rabbit he had been to a dasher with whom Don Juan would not have been ashamed to shake hands.’ It struck him instantly that there could be but one solution of the mystery.

  ‘Jimmy, you’ve been at the May Queen again.”

  ‘I have not!’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.”

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear that, for it is not a practice I would recommend so early in the day. And yet you tell me that you have been proposing marriage with, I am glad to hear, great success. How did you overcome that diffidence of yours?’

  ‘I didn’t have to overcome it. When I saw her sitting there in floods of tears, all my diffidence vanished. I felt strong and protective. I hurried to where she sat.’

  ‘And grabbed her?’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘Waggled her about?’

  ‘Nothing of the kind. I bent over her and took her hand gently in mine. “Connie,” I said.’

  ‘Connie?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘At last! I knew you would get around to it sooner or later. And then?’

  ‘She said, “Oh, James! “‘

  ‘Well, I don’t think much of the dialogue so far, but perhaps it got brighter later on. What did you say after that?’

  ‘I said, “Connie, darling. What’s the matter?”‘

  ‘One can understand how you must have been curious to know. And what was the matter?’

  ‘Mr Schoonmaker, who had been pacing the floor in the manner popularized by tigers at a zoo, suddenly halted in mid-stride, and the animation died out of his face as though turned off with a switch. He looked like a man suddenly reminded of something unpleasant, as indeed he had been.

  ‘Who’s this guy Meriwether?’ he demanded.

  ‘Meriwether?’ said Lord Ickenham, who had had an idea that the name would be coming up shortly. ‘Didn’t Connie tell you about him?’

  ‘Only that you brought him here.’

  Lord Ickenham could understand this reticence. He recalled that his hostess, going into the matter at their recent conference, had decided that silence was best. It would have been difficult, as she had said, were she to place the facts before her betrothed, to explain why she had allowed Bill to continue enjoying her hospitality.

  ‘Yes, I brought him here. He’s a young friend of mine. His name actually is Bailey, but he generally travels incognito. He’s a curate. He brushes and polishes the souls of the parishioners of Bottleton East, a district of London, where he is greatly respected.’ I’ll tell you something about Bill Bailey, Jimmy.’ I have an idea he’s a good deal attracted by your daughter Myra. Not easy to tell for certain because he wears the mask, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he wasn’t in love with her. One or two little signs I’ve noticed. Poor lad, it must have been a sad shock for him when he learned that she’s going to marry Archie Gilpin.’

  Mr Schoonmaker snorted. This habit of his of behaving like a bursting paper bag was new to Lord Ickenham. Probably, he thought, a mannerism acquired since his rise to riches.’ No doubt there was some form of unwritten law that compelled millionaires to act that way.

  ‘She isn’t,’ said Mr Schoonmaker.

  ‘Isn’t what?’

  ‘Going to marry Archie Gilpin. She eloped with Meriwether this morning.’

  ‘You astound me. Are you sure? Where did you hear that?’

  ‘She left a note for Connie.”

  ‘Well, this is wonderful news,’ said Lord Ickenham, his face lighting up. ‘I’m not surprised you’re dancing about all over the place on the tips of your toes. He’s a splendid young fellow. Boxed three years for Oxford and, so I learn from a usually reliable source, went through the opposition like a dose of salts. I congratulate you, Jimmy.’

  Mr Schoonmaker seemed to be experiencing some difficulty in sharing his joyous enthusiasm.

  ‘I call it a disaster. Connie thinks so, too — that’s why she was in floods of tears. And she says you’re responsible.’

  ‘Who, me?’ said Lord Ickenham, amazed, not knowing that the copyright in those words was held by George Cyril Wellbeloved. ‘What had I got to do with it?’

  ‘You brought him here.’

  ‘Merely because I thought he looked a little peaked and needed a breath of country air. Honestly, Jimmy,’ said Lord Ickenham, speaking rather severely, ‘I don’t see what you’re beefing about. If I hadn’t brought him here, he wouldn’t have eloped with Myra, thus causing Connie to burst into floods of tears, thus causing you to lose your diffidence and take her hand gently in yours and say “Connie, darling.” If it hadn’t been for these outside stimuli, you would still be calling her Lady Constance and wincing like a salted snail every time you saw her profile. You ought to be thanking me on bended knee, unless the passage of time has made you stiff in the joints. What’s your objection to Bill Bailey?’

  ‘Connie says he hasn’t a cent to his name.’

  ‘Well, you’ve enough for all. Haven’t you ever heard of sharing the wealth?’

  ‘I don’t like Myra marrying a curate.’

  ‘The very husband you should have wished her. The one thing a financier wants is a clergyman in the family. What happens next time the Senate Commission has you on the carpet and starts a probe? You say “As proof of my respectability, gentlemen, I may mention that my daughter is married to a curate.’ You don’t find curates marrying into a man’s family if there’s anything fishy about him,” and they look silly and apologize. And there’s another thing.’

  ‘Eh?’ said Mr Schoonmaker, who had been musing.

  ‘I said there was another thing you ought to bear in mind.’ Have you considered what would have happened if Myra had married the Duke of Dunstable’s nephew? You would never have got Dunstable out of your hair. A Christmas present would have been expected yearly. You would have had to lunch with him, dine with him, be constantly in his society. He would have come over to New York to spend long visits with you. The children, if any, would have had to learn to call him “Uncle Alaric”. I think you’ve been extraordinarily lucky, Jimmy. Imagine a life with Dunstable like a sort of Siamese twin.’

  It is possible that Mr Schoonmaker would have had much to say in reply to this, for Lord Ickenham’s reasoning, though shrewd, had not wholly convinced him that everything was for the best in the best of all possible worlds, but at this moment the air was rent by a stentorian ‘Hoy!’ and they perceived that the Duke of Dunstable was in their midst.

  ‘Oh, you’re here?’ said the Duke, pausing in the doorway and giving Mr Schoonmaker a nasty look.

  Mr Schoonmaker, returning the nasty look with accrued interest, said he was.

  ‘I hoped you’d be alone, Ickenham.’

  ‘Jimmy was just going, weren’t you, Jimmy? This is your busy day, isn’t it? A thousand things to attend to. So what,’ said Lord Ickenham, as the door closed, ‘can I do for you, Dunstable?’

  The Duke jerked a thumb at the door.’

  ‘Has he been trying to touch you?’

  ‘Oh, no. We were just talking.”

  ‘Oh?’

  The Duke transferred his gaze to the room, regarding it w
ith dislike and disapproval. It had unpleasant memories for him. He took in the desk, the typewriter, the recording machine and the chairs with a smouldering eye. It was in this interior set, he could not but remember, that that woman with the spectacles had so nearly deprived him of five hundred pounds.

  ‘What you doing here?’ he asked, as if revolted to find Lord Ickenham in such surroundings.

  ‘In Miss Briggs’ office? I had a letter from her this morning asking me to look in and attend to a number of things on her behalf. She left, if you recall, in rather a hurry.’

  ‘Why did she write to you?’

  ‘I think she felt that I was her only friend at Blandings Castle.”

  ‘You a friend of hers?’

  ‘We became reasonably matey.’

  ‘Then I’d advise you to choose your friends more carefully, that’s what I’d advise you. Matey, indeed!’

  ‘You don’t like the divine Briggs?’

  ‘Blasted female.’

  ‘Ah, well,’ said Lord Ickenham tolerantly, ‘we all have our faults. Even I have been criticized at times. But you were going to tell me what you wanted to see me about.”

  The Duke, who had been scowling at the typewriter, as if daring it to start something, became more composed. A curious gurgling noise suggested that he had chuckled.

  ‘Oh, that? I just came to say that everything’s all right.’

  ‘Splendid. What’s all right?’

  ‘About the pipsqueak.’

  ‘What pipsqueak would that be?’

  ‘The Tiddlypush girl. She took the cheque.”

  ‘She did?’

  ‘In full settlement.”

  ‘Well, that’s wonderful news.’

  ‘So there won’t be any breach of promise case. She’s gone to London.”

  ‘Yes, I saw her for a moment before she left. You bought her off, did you?’

  ‘That’s what I did. “Here you are,” I said, and I dangled the cheque in front of her. She didn’t hesitate. Grabbed at it like a seal going after a slice of fish. I knew she would. They can’t resist the cash. I’ve just been telling Archibald that she has … what’s that expression you used when you told me he’d been sacked from that job of his?’

  ‘Handed him his hat?’

  ‘That’s right. I told him she’s handed him his hat.’

  ‘Was he very distressed?’

  ‘Didn’t seem to be.’

  ‘Easy come, easy go, he probably said to himself.”

  ‘I shouldn’t wonder. He’s gone to London, too.’

  ‘On the same train as Miss Schoonmaker?’

  ‘No, he went in that little car of his. Said he was going to take a friend to dinner. Fellow of the name of Rigby.’

  ‘Ah, yes, he has spoken to me of his friend Rigby. I believe they are very fond of each other.’

  ‘Chap must be a silly ass if he’s fond of a poop like Archibald.”

  ‘Oh, we all have our likes and dislikes. You’ll be leaving soon yourself, I take it?’

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘Well, it won’t be very comfortable for you here now that Emsworth knows it was you who engaged Miss Briggs to steal his pig. Creates a strain, that sort of thing. Tension. Awkward silences.’

  The Duke gaped. The shock had been severe. If a meteorite had entered through the open window and struck him behind one of his rather prominent ears, he might have been more taken aback, but not very much so. When he was able to speak, which was not immediately, he said:

  ‘What … what you talking about?’

  ‘Isn’t it true?’

  ‘Of course it’s not true.”

  Lord Ickenham clicked his tongue reprovingly.’

  ‘My dear Dunstable, I am always a great advocate of stout denial, but I’m afraid it is useless here. Emsworth has had the whole story from George Cyril Wellbeloved.’

  The Duke was still feeling far from at his best, but he rallied sufficiently to say ‘Pooh!’

  ‘Who’s going to believe him?’

  ‘His testimony is supported by Miss Briggs.’

  ‘Who’s going to believe her?’

  ‘Everybody, I should say. Certainly Emsworth, for one, after he hears this record.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘I told you I had received a letter from the divine Briggs this morning. In it she asked me to turn on her tape recording machine … this is the tape recording machine .’ . . because, she said, that would give the old bounder …I fancy she meant you .’ .’ . something to think about. I will now do so,’ said Lord Ickenham. He pressed the button, and a voice filled the room.

  ‘I, Alaric, Duke of Dunstable, hereby make a solemn promise, to you, Lavender Briggs ….’

  The Duke sat down abruptly. His jaw had fallen, and he seemed suddenly to have become as boneless as Lord Emsworth.

  ‘… that if you steal Lord Emsworth’s pig, Empress of Blandings, and deliver it to my home in Wiltshire, I will pay you five hundred pounds.’

  ‘That,’ said Lord Ickenham, ‘is you in conference with La Briggs. She naturally took the precaution of having this instrument working at the time. It’s always safer with these verbal agreements. Well, I don’t know what view you take of the situation, but it seems to me that you and Emsworth are like two cowboys in the Malemute Saloon who have got the drop on each other simultaneously. You have young George’s film, he has this Scotch tape or whatever it’s called. I suggest a fair exchange. Or would you rather I brought Emsworth in here and played this recording to him? It’s not a thing I would recommend. One feels that the consequences would be extremely unpleasant for you.’

  The Duke froze, appalled. The feller was right. Let this get about, and not only would his name be a hissing and a byword, so that when he invited himself to houses in the future, his host and hostess would hasten to put their valuables away in a stout box and sit on the lid, but Emsworth would bring an action against him for conspiracy or malice aforethought or whatever it was and mulct him in substantial damages. With only the minimum of hesitation he thrust a hand in his pocket and produced the spool which had never left his person since little George had given it to him.

  ‘Here you are, blast you!’

  ‘Oh, thanks. Now everybody’s happy. Emsworth has his pig, Myra her Bill, Archie his Millicent Rigby.’

  The Duke started.

  ‘His what Rigby?’

  ‘Oh yes, I should have told you that, shouldn’t I? He’s gone to London to marry a very nice girl called Millicent Rigby. at least he says she’s very nice, and he probably knows. By the way, that reminds me. There’s one thing I wish you would clear up for me before you go.’ Why was it that you were so anxious that Archie shouldn’t marry Myra Schoonmaker? It has puzzled me from the first.’ She’s charming, and apart from being charming she’s the heiress of one of the richest men in America. Don’t you like heiresses?’

  The Duke’s moustache had become violently agitated. He was not normally quick-witted, but he had begun to suspect that fishy things had been going on. If this Ickenham had not been deliberately misleading him, he was very much mistaken.

  ‘You told me Schoonmaker was broke!’

  ‘Surely not?’

  ‘You said he touched you for a tenner.’

  ‘No, no, I touched him for a tenner.’ That may be where you got confused.’ What would a man like James Schoonmaker be doing, borrowing money from people? He’s a millionaire, so Bradstreet informs us.’

  ‘Who’s Bradstreet?’

  ‘The leading authority on millionaires. A sort of American Debrett. Bradstreet is very definite on the subject of James Schoonmaker. Stinking rich is, I believe, the expression it uses of him.’

  The Duke continued to bend his brain to the problem. He was more convinced than ever that he had been deceived.

  ‘Then why did she take that cheque?’

  ‘Ah, that we shall never know.’ Just girlish high spirits, do you think?’

  ‘I’ll give her girlish high spirits
!’

  ‘I’ll tell you a possible solution that has occurred to me. She knew that Archie was planning to get married and needed money, so being a kind-hearted girl she took the cheque and endorsed it over to him.’ Sort of a wedding present from you. Where are you going?’

  The Duke had lumbered to the door. He paused with a hand on the handle, regarded Lord Ickenham balefully.

  ‘I’ll tell you where I’m going. I’m going to get to the telephone and stop that cheque.’

  Lord Ickenham shook his head.’

  ‘I wouldn’t. I still have the tape, remember. I was just about to give it to you, but if you are going to stop cheques, I shall have to make an agonizing reappraisal.’

  There was a silence, as far as silence was possible in a small room where the Duke was puffing at his moustache.

  ‘You shall have it tomorrow night after the cheque has gone through. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Dunstable, ‘it’s simply that I don’t trust you.’

  The Duke breathed stertorously. He did not like many people, but he searched his mind in vain for somebody he disliked as much as he was disliking his present companion.

  ‘Ickenham,’ he said, ‘you are a low cad!’

  ‘Now you’re just trying to be nice. I bet you say that to all the boys,’ said Lord Ickenham, and rising from his chair he went off to tell Lord Emsworth that though he had lost Lavender Briggs and was losing a sister and the Duke of Dunstable, he would be gaining a pig which for three years in succession had won the silver medal in the Fat Pip class at the Shropshire Agricultural Show.

  There was a smile on his handsome face, the smile it always wore when he had given service.

  P. G. WODEHOUSE

  Galahad at Blandings

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