Dornford Yates - Berry And Co.

D >> Dornford Yates >> Berry And Co.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

BERRY AND CO.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

_Published by Ward, Lock & Co.:--_
BERRY AND CO.
JONAH AND CO.
MAIDEN STAKES.
THE STOLEN MARCH.
ANTHONY LYVEDEN.
VALERIE FRENCH.
AND FIVE WERE FOOLISH.
AS OTHER MEN ARE.
THE BROTHER OF DAPHNE.
THE COURTS OF IDLENESS.

_Published by Hodder & Stoughton:--_
BLIND CORNER.
PERISHABLE GOODS.
BLOOD ROYAL.
FIRE BELOW.
ADELE AND CO.

BERRY AND CO.

BY

DORNFORD YATES

WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

LONDON AND MELBOURNE

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY PURNELL AND SONS
PAULTON (SOMERSET) AND LONDON

_DEAR VALERIE,_

_When a writer admits that he has an affection
for something which he has written, it is high time to
pray for his soul. Yet I make bold to confess that
there are in this book some passages which I hold dear--a
seeming vanity, which must be explained._

_Many times you have found me at work upon these
chapters. Often you have taken ill-written pages of
manuscript from my table and, sitting down in a chair,
deciphered them for what they were worth. Once or
twice, whilst you read, you have fallen into silvery
laughter._

_Do you wonder that I treasure the sentences which
drew forth such music?_

_This is my dedication._

_As many as see you are glad of the sight. All who
know you are proud of the honour. But the man
whose efforts your mirth has commended is the proudest
and happiest of the lot._

_Need I say that your name is not Valerie? I
think not. You will know whom I mean._

_Most faithfully yours,_

_DORNFORD YATES._

_Pau, November, 1920._

CONTENTS

I HOW WILL NOGGIN WAS FOOLED, AND BERRY
RODE FORTH AGAINST HIS WILL

II HOW DAPHNE WROTE FOR ASSISTANCE, AND
MR. HOLLY WAS OUTBID

III HOW A MAN MAY FOLLOW HIS OWN HAT, AND
BERRY TOOK A LAMP IN HIS HAND

IV HOW NOBBY CAME TO SLEEP UPON MY BED, AND
BERRY FELL AMONG THIEVES

V HOW JILL'S EDUCATION WAS IMPROVED, AND
DAPHNE GAVE HER HUSBAND THE SLIP

VI HOW NOBBY ATTENDED A WEDDING, AND BERRY
SPOKE NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

VII HOW JONAH OBEYED HIS ORDERS, AND DAPHNE
AND KATHARINE FESTIVAL BACKED THE
SAME HORSE

VIII HOW JILL SLEPT UNDISTURBED, AND NOBBY
ATTENDED CHURCH PARADE

IX HOW ADELE FESTE ARRIVED, AND MR. DUNKELSBAUM
SUPPED WITH THE DEVIL

X HOW ADELE BROKE HER DREAM, AND VANDY
PLEYDELL TOOK EXERCISE

XI HOW NOBBY MET BLUE BANDALA, AND ADELE
GAVE JONAH A KISS

CHAPTER I

HOW WILL NOGGIN WAS FOOLED, AND BERRY RODE FORTH AGAINST HIS WILL.

"Who's going to church?" said Daphne, consulting her wrist-watch.

There was a profound silence.

My sister turned to Jill.

"Are you coming?" she said. "Berry and I are."

"I beg your pardon," said her husband.

"Of course you're coming," said Daphne.

"Not in these trousers. This is the first time I've worn them, and I'm
not going to kneel in them for any one."

"Then you'll change," said his wife. "You've plenty of time."

Berry groaned.

"This is sheer Bolshevism," he said. "Is not my soul my own?"

"We shall start," said Daphne, "in twenty minutes."

It was nearly half-past ten in the morning of a beautiful summer day,
and we were all taking our ease in the sunshine upon the terrace. It was
the first Sunday which we had spent all together at White Ladies for
nearly five years.

So far as the eye could see, nothing had changed.

At the foot of the steps the great smooth lawn stretched like a fine
green carpet, its shadowed patches yet bright with dew. There were the
tall elms and the copper beech and all the proud company of spreading
giants--what were five years to them? There was the clump of
rhododendrons, a ragged blotch of crimson, seemingly spilled upon the
green turf, and there the close box hedge that walled away the
rose-garden. Beyond the sunk fence a gap showed an acre or so of Bull's
Mead--a great deep meadow, and in it two horses beneath a chestnut tree,
their long tails a-swish, sleepily nosing each other to rout the flies;
while in the distance the haze of heat hung like a film over the rolling
hills. Close at hand echoed the soft impertinence of a cuckoo, and two
fat wood-pigeons waddled about the lawn, picking and stealing as they
went. The sky was cloudless, and there was not a breath of wind.

The stable clock chimed the half-hour.

My sister returned to the attack.

"Are you coming, Boy?"

"Yes," said I. "I am."

Berry sat up and stared at me.

"Don't be silly," he said. "There's a service this morning. Besides,
they've changed the lock of the poor-box."

"I want to watch the Vicar's face when he sees you," said I.

"It will be a bit of a shock," said Jonah, looking up from the paper.
"Is his heart all right?"

"Rotten," said Daphne. "But that doesn't matter. I sent him a note to
warn him yesterday."

"What did you say?" demanded her husband.

"I said, '_We're back at last, and--don't faint--we're all coming to
Church to-morrow, and you've got to come back to lunch._' And now, for
goodness' sake, go and change."

"But we shall perspire," said Berry. "Profusely. To walk half a mile in
this sun is simply asking for it. Besides----"

"What's the car done?" said Jonah. "I'm going, and I can't hurry with
this." He tapped his short leg affectionately. "We needn't take Fitch.
Boy or I can drive."

"Right oh," said my sister, rising. "Is ten-minutes-to early enough?"

Jonah nodded.

"This," said Berry, "is a conspiracy for which you will all pay.
Literally. I shall take the plate round, and from you four I shall
accept nothing but paper. Possibly I shall----"

Here the girls fell upon him and bore him protesting into the house and
out of earshot.

"Who's going to look after the car while we're in church?" said I.

"There's sure to be somebody ready to earn a couple of bob," said Jonah.
"Besides, we can always disconnect the north-east trunnion, or jack her
up and put the wheels in the vestry or something."

"All right. Only we don't want her pinched." With a yawn I rose to my
feet. "And now I suppose I'd better go and turn her out."

"Right oh," said Jonah, picking up his paper again.

I strolled into the house.

We were proud of the car. She was a 1914 Rolls, and we had bought her at
a long price less than a week ago. Fresh from the coach-builder's, her
touring body was painted silver-grey, while her bonnet was of polished
aluminium. Fitted with every conceivable accessory, she was very
good-looking, charming alike to ride or drive, and she went like the
wind. In a word, she did as handsome as she was.

It was eight minutes to eleven as we slid past the lodge and on to the
Bilberry road.

Before we had covered two furlongs, we swung round a corner to see a
smart two-seater at rest by the dusty hedgerow, and a slight dark girl
in fresh blue and white standing with one foot on the step, wiping her
dainty fingers on a handful of cotton-waste.

"Agatha!" cried Daphne and Jill. "Stop, Boy, stop!"

Obediently I slowed to a standstill, as my lady came running after us.

"You might have told me," she panted. "I never knew you were back. And I
am so glad."

"We only arrived on Friday, dear," said Daphne, and introduced Berry and
me. Jonah, it appeared, had met Miss Deriot at tennis in 1914.

"But you had your hair down then," he said gravely.

"It's a wonder I haven't got it down now," said Miss Deriot. "Why didn't
you come along ten minutes earlier? Then you could have changed my
tire."

"And why are you driving away from church?" said Jill.

"One of the colts has sprained his shoulder, and we're out of
embrocation; so I'm going to get some from Brooch."

"I'll come with you," said Berry eagerly, preparing to leave the car. "I
don't like to think of you----"

"Nonsense," said Daphne, detaining him.

"But supposing she has another puncture?"

"Yes, I can see you mending it on a day like this."

"It's very kind of you," said Miss Deriot, with a puzzled smile.

"Don't thank the fool," said my sister. "If I thought he'd be the
slightest use to you, I'd send him; but he only wants an excuse to get
out of going to church."

"Poor Jade," said her husband. "I am a knight, a simple starlit knight,
a Quixote of to-day. Your brutish instincts----"

"Carry on, Boy," said Daphne. I let in the clutch. "And come over this
afternoon, Agatha, and we'll tell you all about everything."

"Yes, do," cried Jill.

"All right," said Miss Deriot. "So long."

Three minutes later I was berthing the car close to the lich-gate in the
shade of sweet-smelling limes, that made a trembling screen of foliage
within the churchyard wall.

As luck would have it, Will Noggin, once a groom in our service and now
a trooper of the Dragoon Guards, was leaning lazily against the grey
wall, taking his ease. As we drew abreast of him, he stood to attention
and saluted, a pleased grin of recognition lighting his healthy face. We
greeted him gladly.

"Glad to see you're all right, Will," said Jill.

"Thank you, miss."

"Aren't you going to church?" said Daphne.

"Not to-day, m'm. I'm on leave, and I've 'ad my share o' church parades
i' the last four years, m'm."

We all laughed.

"Well, if you're not going," said I, "we want some one to keep an eye on
the car."

"I'll do it gladly, sir."

"Right oh! She's a pretty piece of goods, isn't she?"

"She is that, sir," said Will, visibly impressed.

As I followed the others into the porch, I glanced back to see our
sentinel walking about his charge, bending an appreciative gaze upon her
points.

They were singing the _Venite_.

On the ledge of our old pew lay a note addressed to "Major Pleydell" in
the Vicar's handwriting. When Berry had read it he passed it to Daphne,
and I was able to read it over her shoulder.

_DEAR MAJOR,_

_Sometimes in the old days you used to read the Lessons. I think we
should all like it if you would do so to-day; but don't, if you don't
want to._

_Yours very sincerely,_

_JOHN BAGOT._

In a postscript the writer named the appointed passages of Holy Writ.

So soon as the first Psalm had started Berry stepped to the lectern,
found his places and cast his eye over the text. Before the second Psalm
was finished, he was once more in his place.

Doors and windows were open as wide as they could be set, and the little
church was flooded with light and fresh warm air, that coaxed the edge
from the chill of thick stone walls and pillars, and made the frozen
pavements cool and refreshing. Mustiness was clean gone, swept from her
frequent haunts by the sweet breath of Nature. The "dim, religious
light" of Milton's ordering was this day displaced by Summer's honest
smile, simpler maybe, but no less reverent. And, when the singing was
stilled, you overheard the ceaseless sleepy murmur of that country choir
of birds and beasts and insects that keeps its rare contented symphony
for summer days in which you can find no fault.

My impious eye wandered affectionately over familiar friends--the old
oak pews, almost chin-high, the Spanish organ, the reluctant gift of a
proud galleon wrecked on the snarling coast ten miles away, the old
"three-decker" with its dull crimson cushions and the fringed cloths
that hung so stiffly. A shaft of sunlight beat full on an old black
hatchment, making known the faded quarterings, while, underneath, a
slender panel of brass, but two years old, showed that the teaching of
its grim forbear had not been vain.

For so fair a morning, Bilberry village had done well. The church was
two-thirds full, and, though there were many strange faces, it was
pleasant here and there to recognize one we had known in the old days,
and to learn from an involuntary smile that we had not been forgotten.

It was just after the beginning of the Second Lesson that we heard the
engine start. There was no mistaking the purr of our Rolls-Royce. For a
second the girls and Jonah and I stared at one another, panic-stricken.
Then with one impulse we all started instinctively to our feet. As I
left the pew I heard Daphne whisper, "Hsh! We can't all----" and she and
Jonah and Jill sank back twittering. Berry's eyes met mine for an
instant as I stepped into the aisle. They spoke volumes, but to his
eternal credit his voice never faltered.

I almost ran to the porch, and I reached the lich-gate to see our
beautiful car, piloted by a man in a grey hat, scudding up the straight
white road, while in her wake tore a gesticulating trooper, shouting
impotently, ridiculously out-distanced. Even as I watched, the car
flashed round a bend and disappeared.

For a moment I stood still in the middle of the road, stupefied. Then I
heard a horn sounded behind me, and I mechanically stepped to one side.
Fifty yards away was the two-seater we had encountered on our way to
church.

Frantically I signalled to the girl at the wheel. As I did so, a burst
of music signified that the Second Lesson had come to an end.

"Whatever's the matter?" cried Miss Deriot, as she pulled up.

"Somebody's pinched the Rolls. Will you----"

"Of course. Get in. Which way did they go?"

"Straight ahead," said I, opening the door.

We were well under way before I had taken my seat. As we came to the
bend I threw a glance over my shoulder, to see four figures that I knew
standing without the lich-gate. They appeared to be arguing. As we
turned the corner a stentorian voice yelled--

"The Bloodstock road, sir! I can see their blinkin' dust."

Perched on one of the lower branches of a wayside oak, Will Noggin was
pointing a shaking finger in the direction he named.

* * * * *

We were less than three miles from Bloodstock when the off hind tire
burst. Miss Deriot brought the car to the side of the road and stopped
in the shadow of an old barn.

"That," she said, "has just done it."

I opened the door and stepped down into the road.

"It means a delay when we least want it," said I ruefully.

"Worse. I've had one burst already, and I only brought one spare wheel."

I whistled.

"Then we are indeed done," said I. "I'm awfully sorry. Heaven knows how
far you are from your home. This comes of helping a comparative
stranger. Let it be a lesson to you."

My companion smiled.

"I don't mind for myself," she said, "but what about your car?"

I spread out my hands.

"Reason dictates that I should foot-slog it to Bloodstock and try and
get the police moving; but I can't leave you here."

"You can easily, but you're not going to. I don't want to sit here for
the rest of the day." She pointed to the barn. "Help me to get her in
here, and then we'll push off to Bloodstock together."

A hurried reconnaissance led to the discovery of a little farmhouse, and
two minutes later I was making urgent representations to the owner of
the barn. To our relief the latter proved sympathetic and obliging, and
before we again took to the road the two-seater was safely under lock
and key.

"And now," said Miss Deriot, "how did it happen?"

"The theft? I can't imagine. We left that fool who yelled at us in
charge. I suppose he left her to get a drink or something. This is only
the fourth time we've had her out," I added gloomily.

"Oh, I say! Never mind. You're bound to get her again. Look at that
meadow-sweet. Isn't it lovely? I wish I could paint. Can you?"

"I painted a key-cupboard once. It was hung, too. Outside the
stillroom."

"Pity you didn't keep it up," said Miss Deriot. "It's a shame to waste
talent like that. Isn't it just broiling? I should love a bathe now."

"I hope you don't wear stockings in the water," said I.

Miss Deriot glanced at her white ankles.

"Is that a reflection?" she demanded.

I shook my head.

"By no manner of means. But there's a place for everything, isn't there?
I mean----"

We both laughed.

"That's better," said my companion. "I couldn't bear to see you so
worried this beautiful morning."

"My dear," said I, "you've a nice kind heart, and I thank you."

"Don't mention it," said Miss Deriot.

From the crown of her broad-brimmed hat to the soles of her buckskin
shoes she was the pink of daintiness. Health was springing in her fresh
cheeks, eagerness danced in her eyes, energy leapt from her carriage.
Had she been haughty, you would have labelled her "Diana," and have done
with it; but her eyes were gentle, and there was a tenderness about her
small mouth that must have pardoned Actaeon. A plain gold wrist-watch on
a black silk strap was all her jewellery.

"We'd better strike across the next field," said Miss Deriot. "There's a
path that'll bring us out opposite _The Thatcher_. It'll save us about
five minutes."

"You might have been born here," said I.

"I was," said Agatha. She nodded towards a beech wood that stood a
furlong away. "The trees hide the house. But we left when I was seven,
and only came back to the County five years ago. And here's our field."

The five-barred gate was padlocked. I looked at my companion.

"Shall I get over, advance ten paces, and gaze Into the middle distance?
Or aren't you that sort?"

Miss Deriot flung back her head and laughed.

"I'd rather you gave me a leg up," she said.

With a hand on my shoulder and a foot in my hand she was up and over in
an instant. I vaulted after her.

"You know," I said, "we ought to perform, you and I. With a painter's
ladder, a slack wire, and a little practice, we should do wonders. On
non-matinee days I might even lift you with my teeth. That always goes
well, and no one would know you were as light as a rose-leaf."

"Seven stone three in the bathroom," said Agatha. "Without stockings.
Some rose-leaf."

We were going uphill. The meadow through which we were passing sloped to
an oaken fence, stoutly constructed to save the cattle from a perilous
fall. For on its farther side the ground fell away sheer, so that at
this point a bluff formed one high wall of the sunken road for which we
were making. _The Thatcher_, I remembered, stood immediately opposite to
the rough grass-grown steps, hewn years ago for the convenience of such
passengers as we. There was a stile set in the fence, and as I swung
myself over I glanced down past the edge of the bluff and into the road
below.

In the little curved space that fronted the inn the Rolls was standing
silent and unoccupied.

I must have exclaimed, for Agatha was over the stile In an instant, and
asking me what was the matter. Then she saw, and the words died on her
lips. Together we stood spell-bound.

The door of the inn was shut, and there was no one in sight.

My first impulse was to dart down the steps, beat upon the door of the
tavern, and confront the thief. But valour yielded to discretion. The
great thing was to recover the car. I had but a slip of a girl with me,
the spot was a lonely one, and it was more than likely that the
highwayman was not working alone. Besides, Agatha must not be involved
in any violence.

I turned to my lady.

"You stay here. I'm going to take her and drive straight to the
police-station. I'll pick up some police and come back just as quickly
as ever I can."

Miss Deriot shook her pretty head.

"I'm coming with you," she said. "Carry on."

"But, my dear----"

"I often wish I wasn't so obstinate." She spoke meditatively. "But we're
all like that. Mules aren't in it with the Deriots," she added, with a
dazzling smile.

"Neither, apparently, are cucumbers," said I, and with that I began to
descend the rough stairs, stepping as delicately as I could.

Half-way down I turned to look at my companion, and at that moment the
step upon which I was standing gave way. The scrambling sounds which
proclaimed my fall were followed by the rasping protest of yielding
cloth, and I came to rest six feet from the road at the expense of a
pre-War coat, which had caught the corner of one of the unplaned risers.
All had been so still, that in that hollow place the noise could not
have failed to attract the attention of any one who was within earshot,
and I lay for a moment where I had fallen, straining my ears for the
sound of footsteps or voices.

"Are you all right?" whispered a soft voice above me.

I turned my head and nodded. Miss Deriot, standing with clasped hands,
heaved a sigh of relief and prepared to continue her descent.

Gingerly I stepped down into the sandy road and started to cross it
a-tiptoe.

Facing towards Bloodstock, the car presented her off side to us.

With the utmost caution I proceeded to induct myself into the driver's
seat. As I sat down, Miss Deriot slipped in front of the bonnet and
round to the near side. She was opening the high side-door and my foot
was on the self-starter, when I heard the murmur of voices.

We were not a second too soon.

The moment I had started the engine there was a cry followed by the
clattering of heavy shoes upon cobbles, and as the car slid into the
road a man in a grey hat came tearing out of the inn's courtyard, waving
his arms and yelling like one possessed. Hard on his heels came pounding
his supporters, three of them, all bellowing like bulls.

So much I saw for myself. Agatha, kneeling on the seat by my side, kept
me informed of their movements till we swept out of sight.

"He's simply dancing. The one in the grey hat, I mean. Now he's shaking
his fist at us. Oh, he's mad. He's thrown his hat on the ground. O-o-o,
Boy, he's trying to kick one of the others. Oh, I wish you could
see...." The merry voice dissolved into peals of laughter.

Then the road curled, and Agatha turned left about and settled herself
by my side.

"How did you know my Christian name?" I demanded.

"Your sister used it this morning. You see, I've forgotten your other,
and I can't keep on saying 'you.' But I won't do it again."

"Please, Agatha."

"Deriot. One 'r.' I say, you've torn your coat properly."

"It feels as if it was in two pieces," said I.

"If it wasn't for the collar, it would be," said Agatha. "Never mind.
Bare backs are still fashionable. And what's a torn coat, when you've
got the car again?"

"You're right," I agreed. "You'd hardly believe it," I added, "but I can
tell from the feel of her that some stranger's been driving."

"I can believe it. After all, a car's just like a horse."

As she spoke, we sped into the market square of Bloodstock. The police
station stood in Love Lane, a couple of streets away.

Here a disappointment was in store. The sole representative of the Law
was a station sergeant in his shirt-sleeves and a state of profuse
perspiration. Between his lips was a penholder, and he held a telephone
receiver to his left ear. In an adjoining room the bell of another
telephone was ringing violently in long regular spasms, while, somewhere
quite close, a dog was giving ceaseless vent to those short sharp barks
which denote impatience of detention.

A sudden elevation of the sergeant's eyebrows invited me to state my
business, but before I had spoken two sentences he shifted the penholder
from his mouth and shook his head.

"'Fraid I can't 'elp you at the moment, sir. That's the third car what's
been stole in this distric' this mornin'. There's a 'ole gang of 'em
about. Every one excep' me's out after 'em now. 'Eaven knows when
they'll come in. An' there's that other telephone goin' like mad, an'
the Chief Constable's lef' his bull-dawg tied up there, an' 'e won't let
me within six foot of it." He turned to blare into the mouthpiece.
"'Ullo! 'Oo _are_ you? 'Oo _are_ you? Wot! Oh, I can't bear it. 'Ere,
for 'Eaven's sake, 'old the line." He set down the receiver, shook the
sweat out of his eyes, and sank on to a stool. "Another blinkin' car
gone," he said hoarsely. "I dunno wot's the matter with the world. I
wish I was back in France."

* * * * *

Love Lane was a narrow street, so I did not attempt to turn the car, but
drove on and presently out of the town by back streets on to the
Bilberry road.

It would have been better if I had telephoned to White Ladies before
leaving Bloodstock, to announce my recovery of the car; but I was
expecting to be back there so soon that it seemed unnecessary.

Indeed, it was only when we were once more under way that I thought of
the colt and the embrocation, to say nothing of my lady's two-seater,
now standing helpless in the gloom of the wayside barn.

"I tell you what," said I. "We'll drive to the barn and pick up the
lotion, and then I'll take you home. Then I can run your chauffeur back
to the barn with a spare cover, drop him there, and push off to White
Ladies."

"I can improve on that," said Agatha, with a glance at her wrist. "It'll
be past one by the time we get home, so you must stay to lunch. You can
telephone to White Ladies from there. And afterwards I'll go back with
you--I was to come over this afternoon, wasn't I?--and we can drop the
chauffeur at the barn on the way. And he can come for me in the
evening."

Agatha was living at Broadacre, a fine old place on the edge of the
forest itself, and thither we came without incident, just as an
old-fashioned gong was summoning the household to meat.

Admiral and Mrs. Deriot were kindness itself. First I was given a long,
cold, grateful drink. Then the old sailor led me to his own chamber and
ministered personally to my wants. My coat was given to a maid to be
roughly stitched, and when I appeared at luncheon it was in a jacket
belonging to my host. Our story was told and retold, the lawlessness of
the year of Grace 1919 was bewailed, and a violent denunciation of
motor-thieves was succeeded by a bitter proscription of the County
Police.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21