With a sigh, a blue coupé slid past me and then slowed down. The grey two-seater behind it did the same. When I say that Daphne, who loathes mechanics, was seated in the latter conveyance, submitting zealously to an oral examination by Piers regarding the particular functions of the various controls, it will be seen that my recent conclusions were well founded.
“Letters,” said Jill, getting out of the coupé. “One for Berry and two for Adèle.” She distributed them accordingly. “Fitch brought them up on his bicycle. And Piers’ aunt is coming – the one whose villa he’s at. I forgot her name, but he says she’s awfully nice.”
“Splendid,” said I. “And now congratulate me. Having tramped the town all the morning, I’ve got to walk home.”
“Why?”
I pointed to Nobby.
“That he may warm himself,” I said.
My cousin gave a horrified cry.
“Oh, Boy! And we only washed him last night.”
“I’ll take him,” cried Piers. “I’d like to. And you can drive Daphne back.”
I shook my head, laughing.
“It’s his master’s privilege,” I said. “Besides, he’s had his scolding, and if I deserted him he’d be hurt, And he’s really a good little chap.”
“But—”
“My dear Piers,” said Daphne, laying a hand on his arm, “rather than risk hurting that white scrap’s feelings, my brother would walk to Lyons.”
“You will all,” said Berry, “be diverted to learn that I am faced with the positively filthy prospect of repairing to London forthwith. After spending a quarter of an hour in an overheated office in New Square, Lincoln’s Inn, in the course of which I shall make two affidavits which nobody will ever read, I shall be at liberty to return. Give me the Laws of England.”
“Never mind, old chap,” said Daphne. “We’ll soon be back again. I shall go with you, of course. Ought we to start tonight?”
Considering that there was snow in London, that the visit would entail almost continuous travelling for nearly thirty hours each way, and that my sister cannot sleep in a train, it seemed as if Berry, at any rate, was pulling out of the ruck.
“My sweet,” replied my brother-in-law, “I won’t hear of it. However, we’ll argue it out in private. Yes, I must start tonight.”
“You must go?” said Jonah softly.
“Can’t get out of it.”
“Right.” My cousin leaned out of the car. “I’ll give you my tobacconist’s address. The best way will be to have the stuff decanted and sewn in your coat.”
There was a pregnant silence.
Then—
“Saved!” I cried exultantly. “Saved!”
“What d’you mean – ‘Saved’?” said Berry.
“Hush,” said I, looking round. “Not an ‘h’ mute! This summons of yours is a godsend. With a little ingenuity, you can bring enough contraband in to last us till May.”
If our efforts to induce my brother-in-law to see reason were eventually successful, this was no more than we deserved. We made light of the risk of detection, we explained how the stuff could be concealed, we told him the demeanour to assume, we said we wished we were going, we declared it was done every day, we indemnified him against fines, we entreated, we flattered, we cajoled, we appealed to him “as a sportsman,” we said it was “only right,” we looked unutterable things, and at last, half an hour before it was time for him to start for the station, he promised, with many misgivings and expressions of self-reproach, to see what he could do. Instantly, from being his suppliants, we became his governors; and the next twenty minutes were employed in pouring into his ears the most explicit directions regarding his purchase and disposal of our particular fancies. Finally we made out a list…
He had absolutely refused to allow my sister to accompany him, but we all went down to the station to see him off.
As we were pacing the platform —
“Have you got the list?” said Jonah.
The same question had been asked before – several times.
“Yes,” said Berry, “I have. And if anybody asks me again, I shall produce it and tear it into shreds before their eyes.”
“Well, for Heaven’s sake, don’t lose it,” said I, “because—”
“To hear you,” said Berry, “anybody would think that I was mentally deficient. Anybody would think that I was going to enclose it in a note to the Customs, telling them to expect me on Saturday, disguised in a flat ’at and a bag of gooseberries, and advising them to pull up their socks, as I should resist like a madman. I don’t know what’s the matter with you.”
We endeavoured to smooth him down.
“And if,” purred Daphne, “if there should be any – that is – what I mean is, should any question arise—”
Berry laughed hysterically.
“Yes,” he said, “go on. ‘Any question.’ Such as whether they can give me more than five years’ hard labour. I understand.”
“–get on the telephone to Berwick. He knows the President personally and can do anything.”
“Sweetheart,” replied her husband, “you may bet your most precious life… If Berwick wasn’t in Paris, I wouldn’t touch the business with the end of a forty-foot pole.”
“I wish I was going with you,” said Daphne wistfully.
Berry took off his hat.
“You are,” he said gently, “you are.” He laid his hand upon his heart. “I wish I could put the tobacco in the same poor place. But that’s impossible. For one thing, lady, you’ve all the room there is.”
Which was pretty good for a king who hadn’t been a courtier for nearly nine years.
It was upon the following afternoon that Adèle, who was brushing Nobby, sat back on her heels.
“When Jill,” she said, “becomes the Duchess of Padua, what bloods we shall be.”
“She isn’t there yet,” said I.
“Where?”
“My sweet,” said I, “I apologise. I was using a figure of speech, which is at once slipshod and American.”
“That,” said my wife, “is the worst of being English. You’re like the Indian tailor who was given a coat to copy and reproduced a tear in the sleeve. Imitation can be too faithful. Never mind. I forgive you.”
“D’you hear that, Nobby?” The terrier started to his feet. “Did you hear what the woman said? That we, who have founded precedents from time immemorial –that you and I, who taught America to walk—”
“He’s Welsh,” said Adèle.
“I don’t care. It’s scandalous. Who defiled the Well of English? And now we’re blamed for drinking the water.”
Adèle looked out of the window and smiled at a cloud.
“Once,” she said slowly, “once I asked you if you would have known I was an American… And when you said ‘Yes,’ I asked you why… Do you remember your answer?… Of course,” she added swiftly, “that was before we were married.”
“You beautiful witch,” said I. “You unkind, beautiful witch. You’ve only to touch the water with the tip of your little red tongue to make it pure. You’ve only to put your lips to it to make it the sweetest music that ever a poor fool heard. You’ve only to smile like that to make me proud to kiss your shining foot.”
“Nobby!” cried Adèle. “Oh, Nobby! Did you hear that? Did you hear what the man said? A real courtier’s speech! But how can he kiss my feet when I’m sitting on them?”
I stepped to her side, picked her up, and swung her on to a table.
Then I kissed her sweet insteps.
From her perch my wife addressed the Sealyham.
“It’s all right, Nobby,” she said relievedly. “He is a king, after all. Only a king would have done that.”
As I sat down by her side —
“I’d love to be a queen,” cried a voice. “Love to. Wouldn’t you like to be a king?”
It was Jill speaking.
The fresh tones came floating up and in at the open window. She could not have heard our words. It was pure coincidence.
Adèle and I sat very still.
“I don’t know,” said Piers slowly.
“I’ll tell you what I’d do,” said Jill. “I’d – Piers, what is the matter?”
“Nothing,” said Piers.
“There is,” said Jill accusingly. “You know there is. I can see it in your eyes. What are you thinking about?”
“I – I don’t know,” stammered her swain.
“I think you might tell me,” said Jill aggrievedly. “I always tell you everything. Once or twice lately you’ve got all quiet suddenly – I can’t think why. Is it because your aunt’s coming?”
Piers laughed bitterly.
“Good Heavens, no,” he said.
“Well, why is it, then?”
For a moment there was no answer.
Then all of a sudden the sluice-gate of speech was pulled up.
“Oh, Jill, Jill, Jill…I could go on saying your name for the rest of my life! I say it all the way home. I say it as I’m going to sleep. I say it when I wake in the morning… I saw you first at Biarritz. You never knew. I was staying with some Italian people. They’ve got a place there. And I was alone in the grounds. And then I saw you – with Boy. You looked so wonderful… All in green you were, standing with your feet close together, and your head on one side. Your hair was coming down, and the sun was shining on it… I found out who you were, and came to Pau. I wanted to get to know you. I felt I must. And, whenever you all went out, I followed in the two-seater. And then – I got to know you – at St Bertrand – that wonderful, wonderful day… I – was – so – awfully – happy… And now” – his voice sank to a wail – “I wish I hadn’t. If only I’d stopped to think… But I didn’t. I just knew I wanted to be with you, and that was all. Oh,” he burst out suddenly, “why did I ever do it? Why did I ever follow you – that wonderful day? If I’d dreamed how miserable it’d make me, how miserably wretched I’d be… It’s the dreadful hopelessness, Jill, the dreadful hopelessness… But I can’t help it. It’s something stronger than me. It’s not enough to be with you. I want to touch you: I want to put my arms round your neck: I want to play with your hair… Of course I’m terribly lucky to be able to kiss your hand, but – Ah, don’t be frightened. I was – only playing, Jill, only pretending. And now I’m going to be all serious again – not quiet, but serious. Goodbye, Madonna. Have you ever seen
Pagliacci
? Where the fellow bursts into tears? I think I could do that part this afternoon…”
A light padding upon the gravel came to our ears.
Then a car’s door slammed.
A moment later Piers’ two-seater purred its way down the drive…
Adèle and I continued to sit very still.
Presently I turned to her and raised my eyebrows.
“Hopelessness?” I whispered. “Hopelessness? What on earth does he mean?”
My wife shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
Then she laid a finger upon her lips.
I nodded obediently.
“Yes,” said Berry, “you see in me a nervous wreck. My heart’s misfiring, I’m over at the knees, and with the slightest encouragement I can break into a cold sweat.”
He sank into a chair and covered his eyes…
I had meant to meet him at the station, but the early train had beaten me, so Fitch had gone with the car. Indeed, it was not yet eight o’clock, and Daphne was still abed. That had not prevented us from following Berry into her room, any more than had the fact that no one of us was ready for breakfast. I had no coat or waistcoat: so far as could be seen, Jonah was attired in a Burberry and a pair of trousers: a glance at Adèle suggested that she was wearing a fur coat, silk stockings, and a tortoiseshell comb, while Jill was wrapped in a kimono, with her fresh fair hair tumbled about her shoulders.
Jonah voiced our anxiety.
“You – you’ve got the goods?”
“They’re downstairs,” said Berry. “But don’t question me. I can’t bear it. I’ll tell you all in a minute, but you must let me alone. Above all, don’t thwart me. I warn you, my condition is critical.”
He sighed heavily.
Apparently impressed by his demeanour, Nobby approached, set his paws upon his knee, and licked his face.
“There you are,” said Berry, lifting the dog to his lap. “The very fowls of the air pity me. No, it’s not a sore, old chap. It’s where I cut myself yesterday. But I’m just as grateful. And now lie still, my beauty, and poor old Sit-tight the Smuggler will tell you such a tale as will thicken your blood.
“Upon Friday morning last I purchased a uniform case. Not a new one – the oldest and most weather-beaten relic I could procure. On Friday evening I packed it. One thousand cigars, five thousand cigarettes, and six pounds of tobacco looked very well in it. My sword, a pair of field boots, breeches, coat – carefully folded to display the staff badges – and my red hat looked even better. I filled up with socks, shirts, puttees, slacks, spurs and all the old emblems of Mars that I could lay my hands on. Finally I leavened the lot with a pound of the best white pepper – to discourage the moths, my fellow, to discourage the moths.”
His tone suggesting the discomfiture of the wicked, the Sealyham barked his applause.
“Quite so. Well, I locked the case up and corded it, and precisely at ten o’clock I retired to bed.
“I never remember feeling so full of beans as I did the next morning. I could have bluffed my way across Europe with a barrel of whiskey on a lead. I felt ready for anything. Sharp at a quarter to eleven I was at the station, and one minute later a porter, with the physique of a blacksmith, had the box on his shoulder and my dressing-case in his hand.
“It was as he was preparing to lay his spoils at the feet of the registration-monger that my bearer trod upon a banana-skin… To say that he took a toss, conveys nothing at all. It was the sort of fall you dream of – almost too good to be true. And my uniform-case, of which he never let go, described a very beautiful parabola, and then came down upon the weigh-bridge, as the swiple of an uplifted flail comes down upon grain…
“Both hinges went, of course. It says much for the box that the whole thing didn’t melt then and there. If I hadn’t corded it, most of the stuff would have been all over the Vauxhall Bridge Road.
“Well, I was so rattled that I could hardly think. I joined mechanically in the laughter, I assured complete strangers that it didn’t matter at all, I carried through the registration like a man in a dream, and I tipped everybody I could see. It was as I was thrusting blindly towards the gates that I first realised that half the people in the place were sneezing to glory. I was still digesting this phenomenon when I sneezed myself…