Dornford Yates - Berry And Co.

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For my sister the ordeal had been severe, and for the thirty hours
following the robbery she had kept her bed. Berry had contracted a
slight cold, and I was not one penny the worse. Jill was overcome to
learn what she had missed, and the reflection that she had mercifully
slept upstairs, while such a drama was being enacted upon the ground
floor, rendered her inconsolable. Jonah was summoned by telegram, and
came pelting from Somerset, to be regaled with a picturesque account of
the outrage, the more purple features of which he at first regarded as
embroidery, and for some time flatly refused to believe. As was to be
expected, Nobby paid for his treachery with an attack of biliousness,
the closing stages of which were terrible to behold. At one time it
seemed as if no constitution could survive such an upheaval; but,
although the final convulsion left him subdued and listless, he was as
right as ever upon the following morning.

The next Sunday we registered what was to be our last attendance of
Church Parade for at least three months.

By common consent we had that morning agreed altogether to eschew the
subject of crime. Ever since it had happened we had discussed the great
adventure so unceasingly that, as Berry had remarked at breakfast, it
was more than likely that, unless we were to take an immediate and firm
line with ourselves, we should presently get Grand Larceny on the brain,
and run into some danger of qualifying, not only for admission to
Broadmoor, but for detention in that institution till His Majesty's
pleasure should be known. For the first hour or two which followed our
resolution we either were silent or discussed other comparatively
uninteresting matters in a preoccupied way; but gradually lack of
ventilation began to tell, and the consideration of the robbery grew
less absorbent.

As we entered the Park at Stanhope Gate--

"Boy, aren't you glad Adele's coming?" said Jill.

I nodded abstractedly.

"Rather."

"You never said so the other night."

"Didn't I?"

"I suppose, if she comes to Southampton, you'll go to meet her. May I
come with you?"

"Good heavens, yes. Why shouldn't you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought, perhaps, you'd rather...."

I whistled to Nobby, whose disregard of traffic was occasionally
conducive to heart failure. As he came cantering up--

"Adele isn't my property," I said.

"I know, but...."

"But what?"

"I've never seen Nobby look so clean," said Jill, with a daring
irrelevance that took my breath away.

"I observe," said I, "that you are growing up. Your adolescence is at
hand. You are fast emerging from the chrysalis of girlish innocence,
eager to show yourself a pert and scheming butterfly." My cousin
regarded me with feigned bewilderment. "Yes, you've got the baby stare
all right, but you must learn to control that little red mouth. Watch
Daphne."

Jill made no further endeavour to restrain the guilty laughter which was
trembling upon her lips.

"I b-believe you just love her," she bubbled.

I thought very rapidly. Then--

"I think we all do," said I. "She's very attractive."

"I mean it," said Jill.

"So do I. Look at her ears. Oh, I forgot. Hides them under her hair,
doesn't she? Her eyes, then."

"I observe," said Jill pompously, "that you are sitting up and taking
notice. Your adol--adol--er--what you said, is at hand. You are emerging
from the chrysalis of ignorance----"

"This is blasphemy. You wicked girl. And what are you getting at?
Matchmaking or only blackmail?"

"Well, it's time you got married, isn't it? I don't want you to, dear,
but I know you've got to soon, and--and I'd like you to be happy."

There was a little catch in her voice, and I looked down to see her eyes
shining.

"Little Jill," I said, "if I marry six wives, I shall still be in love
with my cousin--a little fair girl, with great grey eyes and the
prettiest ways and a heart of the purest gold. And now shall we cry here
or by The Serpentine?"

She caught at my arm, laughing.

"Boy, you're very----Oh, I say! Where's Nobby?"

We had reached the Achilles Statue, and a hurried retrospect showed me
the terrier some thirty paces away, exchanging discourtesies with an
Aberdeen. The two were walking round each other with a terrible
deliberation, and from their respective demeanours it was transparently
clear that only an immediate distraction could avert the scandal of a
distressing brawl.

Regardless of my surroundings, I summoned the Sealyham in my "parade"
voice. To my relief he started and, after a menacing look at his
opponent, presumably intended to discourage an attack in rear,
cautiously withdrew from his presence and, once out of range, came
scampering in our direction.

My brother-in-law and Daphne, whom we had outdistanced, arrived at the
same time.

As I was reproving the terrier--

"The very people," said a familiar voice.

It was the Assistant Commissioner, labouring under excitement which he
with difficulty suppressed. He had been hurrying, and was out of breath.

"I want you to cross the road and walk along by the side of The Row," he
said jerkily. "If you see anyone you recognize, take off your hat. And,
Mrs. Pleydell, you lower your parasol."

"But, my dear chap," said Berry, "they were all masked."

"Well, if you recognize a voice, or even----"

"A voice? My dear fellow, we're in the open air. Besides, what jury----"

"For Heaven's sake," cried the other, "do as I ask I I know it's a
chance in a million. Think me mad, call me a fool--anything you like ...
but go."

His earnestness was irresistible.

I whistled to Nobby--who had seized the opportunity of straying,
apparently by accident, towards a bull-terrier--and started to stroll in
the direction of The Row. Jill walked beside me, twittering, and a
glance over my shoulder showed me my sister and Berry a horse's length
behind. Behind them, again, came the Assistant Commissioner.

We crossed the road and entered the walk he had mentioned.

It was a beautiful day. The great sun flamed out of a perfect sky, and
there was little or no wind. With the exception of a riding-master and
two little girls The Row was empty, but the walk was as crowded as a
comfortably filled ball-room, if you except the dancers who are sitting
out; for, while three could walk abreast with small inconvenience either
to others or themselves, there was hardly a seat to spare.

I have seen smarter parades. It was clear that many _habitues_ had
already left Town, and that a number of visitors had already arrived.
But there was apparent the same quiet air of gaiety, the same good
humour which fine feathers bring, and, truth to tell, less _ennui_ and
more undisguised enjoyment than I can ever remember.

Idly I talked with Jill, not thinking what I said nor noticing what she
answered, but my heart was pounding against my ribs, and I was glancing
incessantly from side to side in a fever of fear lest I should miss the
obvious.

Now and again I threw a look over my shoulder. Always Berry and Daphne
were close behind. Fervently I wished that they were in front.

I began to walk more slowly....

Suddenly I realized that I was streaming with sweat.

As I felt for my handkerchief--

"Look at Nobby," said Jill. "Whatever's he doing?"

I glanced at my cousin to follow the direction of her eyes.

_Nobby was sitting up, begging, before a large elderly gentleman who was
seated, immaculately dressed, some six paces away. He was affecting not
to see the terrier, but there was a queer frozen look about his broad
smile that set me staring. Even as I gazed he lowered his eyes and
lifting a hand from his knee, began to regard the tips of his fingers,
as though they were ungloved...._

For a second I stood spellbound.

Then I took off my hat.

CHAPTER IX

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

"There she is!" cried Jill.

"Where?" said I, screwing up my eyes and peering eagerly at the crowded
taffrails.

"There, Boy, there. Look, she's seen us. She's waving."

Hardly I followed the direction of my cousin's pink index finger, which
was stretched quivering towards the promenade deck.

"Is that her in blue?"

But a smiling Jill was already nodding and waving unmistakably to the
tall slim figure, advances which the latter was as surely returning with
a cheerly wave of her slight blue arm. Somewhat sheepishly I took off my
hat.

Adele Feste had arrived.

More than fifteen months had elapsed since we had reluctantly seen her
into the boat-train at Euston and wished her a safe journey to her
American home. At the time, with an uneasiness bred of experience, I had
wondered whether our friendship was to survive the battery of time and
distance, or whether it was destined to slip into a decline and so,
presently, out of our lives, fainting and painless. Touch, however, had
been maintained by a fitful correspondence, and constant references to
Miss Feste's promised visit to White Ladies--a consummation which we one
and all desired--were made for what they were worth. Finally my sister
sat down and issued a desperate summons. "My dear, don't keep us waiting
any longer. Arrive in August and stay for six months. If you don't, we
shall begin to believe what we already suspect--that we live too far
away." The thrust went home. Within a month the invitation had been
accepted, with the direct result that here were Jill and I, at six
o'clock of a pleasant August evening, standing upon a quay at
Southampton, while the Rolls waited patiently, with Fitch at her wheel,
a stone's throw away, ready to rush our guest and ourselves over the odd
fifteen miles that lay between the port and White Ladies.

With us in the car we could take the inevitable cabin trunk and
dressing-case. Adele's heavy baggage was to be consigned to the care of
Fitch, who would bring it by rail the same evening to Mockery Dale, the
little wayside station which served five villages and our own among
them.

Nobody from the quay was allowed to board the liner, and none of the
passengers were allowed to disembark, until the baggage had been
off-loaded. For the best part, therefore, of an hour and a half Jill and
I hovered under the shadow of the tall ship, walking self-consciously up
and down, or standing looking up at the promenade deck with, so far as I
was concerned, an impotently fatuous air and, occasionally, the
meretricious leer usually reserved for the photographer's studio.

At last--

"If they don't let them off soon," I announced, "I shall break down. The
strain of being cordial with somebody who's in sight, but out of
earshot, is becoming unbearable. Let's go and have a breather behind the
hutment." And I indicated an erection which looked like a ticket-office
that had been thrown together during the Crimean War.

But Jill was inexorable.

"It can't be long now," she argued, "and if we go away----There!" She
seized my arm with a triumphant clutch. "Look! They're beginning to get
off."

It was true. One by one the vanguard of passengers was already
straggling laden on to the high gangway. I strained my eyes for a
glimpse of the slight blue figure, which had left the taffrail and was
presumably imprisoned in the press which could be observed welling out
of a doorway upon the main deck....

A sudden and violent stress upon my left hand at once reminded me of
Nobby's existence, and suggested that of a cat. Mechanically I held fast
to the lead, at the opposite end of which the Sealyham was choking and
labouring in a frenzied endeavour to molest a sleek tabby, which, from
the assurance of its gait, appeared to be a _persona grata_ upon the
quay. The attempted felony attracted considerable attention, which
should have been otherwise directed, with the result that a clergyman
and two ladies were within an ace of being overrun by an enormous
truckload of swaying baggage and coarsely reviled by a sweating Hercules
for their pains. As it was, the sudden diversion of the trolley
projected several pieces of luggage on to the quay, occasioning an
embryo stampede of the bystanders and drawing down a stern rebuke,
delivered in no measured terms, from a blue-coated official, who had not
seen what had happened, upon the heads of innocent and guilty alike. The
real offender met my accusing frown with the disarming smile of childish
innocence, and, when I shook my head, wagged his tail unctuously. As I
picked him up and put him under my arm--

"So this is Nobby," said Adele.

I uncovered and nodded.

"And he had a bath this morning, so as to be all nice and clean when
Miss Feste arrived. I did, too."

"How reckless!" said Adele. "You look very well on it."

"Thank you," said I, shaking hands. "And you look glorious. Hullo!
You've let your hair grow. I am glad."

"Think it's an improvement?"

"If possible."

The well-marked eyebrows went up, the bright brown eyes regarded me
quizzically, the faint familiar smile hung maddeningly on the red lips.

"Polite as ever," she flashed.

"Put it down to the bath," said I. "Cleanliness is next
to--er--devotion."

"Yes, and he's been counting the days," broke in Jill. "He has really.
Of course, we all have. But----Oh, Adele, I'm so glad you've come."

Adele drew my cousin's arm within her own.

"So'm I," she said quietly. "And now--I did have a dressing-case once.
And a steamer-trunk.... D'you think it's any good looking for them?"

Twenty minutes later we were all three--four with Nobby--on the front
seat of the Rolls, which was nosing its way gingerly out of the town.

"I wonder if you realize," said Adele, "what a beautiful country you
live in."

At the moment we were immediately between an unpleasantly crowded tram
and a fourth-rate beerhouse.

"Don't you have trams?" said I. "Or does alcohol mean so much to you? I
suppose prohibition is a bit of a jar."

"To tell you the truth, I was thinking of the Isle of Wight. It looked
so exquisite as we were coming in. Just like a toy continent out of a
giant's nursery."

"Before the day is out," I prophesied, "you shall see finer things than
that."

Once clear of the streets, I gave the car her head.

For a while we slid past low-lying ground, verdant and fresh and
blowing, but flat and sparsely timbered, with coppices here and there
and, sometimes, elms in the hedgerows, and, now and again, a parcel of
youngster oaks about a green--fair country enough at any time, and at
this summer sundown homely and radiant. But there was better to come.

The car fled on.

Soon the ground rose sharply by leaps and bounds, the yellow road
swerving to right and left, deep tilted meadows on one side with a
screen of birches beyond, and on the other a sloping rabble of timber,
whose foliage made up a tattered motley, humble and odd and bastard,
yet, with it all, so rich in tender tones and unexpected feats of
drapery that Adele cried that it was a slice of fairyland and sat with
her chin on her shoulder, till the road curled up into the depths of a
broad pine-wood, through which it cut, thin, and dead straight, and
cool, and strangely solemn. In a flash it had become the nave of a
cathedral, immense, solitary. Sombre and straight and tall, the walls
rose up to where the swaying roof sobered the mellow sunshine and only
let it pass dim and so, sacred. The wanton breeze, caught in the maze of
tufted pinnacles, filtered its chastened way, a pensive organist,
learned to draw grave litanies from the boughs and reverently voice the
air of sanctity. The fresh familiar scent hung for a smokeless incense,
breathing high ritual and redolent of pious mystery. No circumstance of
worship was unobserved. With one consent birds, beasts and insects made
not a sound. The precious pall of silence lay like a phantom cloud,
unruffled. Nature was on her knees.

The car fled on.

Out of the priestless sanctuary, up over the crest of the rise, into the
kiss of the sunlight we sailed, and so on to a blue-brown moor, all
splashed and dappled with the brilliant yellow of the gorse in bloom and
rolling away into the hazy distance like an untroubled sea. So for a
mile it flowed, a lazy pomp of purple, gold-flecked and glowing. Then
came soft cliffs of swelling woodland, rising to stay its course with
gentle dignity--walls that uplifted eyes found but the dwindled edge of
a far mightier flood that stretched and tossed, a leafy waste of
billows, flaunting more living shades of green than painters dream of,
laced here and there with gold and, once in a long while, shot with
crimson, rising and falling with Atlantic grandeur, till the eye
faltered, and the proud rich waves seemed to be breaking on the rosy
sky.

And over all the sun lay dying, his crimson ebb of life staining the
firmament with splendour, his mighty heart turning the dance of Death to
a triumphant progress, where Blood and Flame rode by with clouds for
chargers, and Earth and Sky themselves shouldered the litter of their
passing King.

An exclamation of wonder broke from Adele, and Jill cried to me to stop.

"Just for a minute, Boy, so that she can see it properly."

Obediently I slowed to a standstill. Then I backed the great car and
swung up a side track for the length of a cricket-pitch. The few cubits
thus added to our stature extended the prospect appreciably. Besides, it
was now unnecessary to crane the neck.

At last--

"If you're waiting for me to say 'Go,'" said Adele, "I shouldn't. I'm
quite ready to sit here till nightfall. It's up to you to tear me away."

I looked at Jill.

"Better be getting on," I said. "The others'll be wondering where we
are."

She nodded.

We did not stop again till the car came to rest easily before the great
oak door, which those who built White Ladies hung upon its tremendous
hinges somewhere in the 'forties of the sixteenth century.

* * * * *

"It is my duty," said Berry, "to inform you that on Wednesday I shall
not be available."

"Why?" said my wife.

"Because upon that day I propose to dispense justice in my capacity of a
Justice of the Peace. I shall discriminate between neither rich nor
poor. Beggars and billionaires shall get it equally in the neck.
Innocent and guilty alike----"

"That'll do," said Daphne. "What about Thursday?"

"Thursday's clear. One moment, though. I had an idea there was something
on that day." For a second he drummed on the table, clearly cudgelling
his brains. Suddenly, "I knew it," he cried. "That's the day of the
sale. You know. Merry Down. I don't know what's the matter with my
memory. I've got some rotten news."

"What?"

Daphne, Jill, Jonah and I fired the question simultaneously.

"A terrible fellow's after it. One Dunkelsbaum. Origin doubtful--very.
Last known address, Argentina. Naturalized in July, 1914. Strictly
neutral during the War, but managed to net over a million out of cotton,
which he sold to the Central Powers _at a lower price than Great Britain
offered_ before we tightened the blockade. Never interned, of course.
Well, he tried to buy Merry Down by private treaty, but Sir Anthony
wouldn't sell to him. They say the sweep's crazy about the place and
that he means to have it at any price. Jolly, isn't it?"

There was a painful silence.

Merry Down was the nearest estate to White Ladies, and was almost as
precious to us as our own home. For over two centuries a Bagot had
reigned uninterruptedly over the rose-red mansion and the spreading
park, the brown water and the waving woods--a kingdom of which we had
been free since childhood. Never an aged tree blew down but we were told
of it, and now--the greatest of them all was falling, the house of Bagot
itself.

One of the old school, Sir Anthony had stood his ground up to the last.
The War had cost him dear. His only son was killed in the first months.
His only grandson fell in the battles of the Somme. His substance, never
fat, had shrunk to a mere shadow of its former self. The stout old heart
fought the unequal fight month after month. Stables were emptied, rooms
were shut up, thing after thing was sold. It remained for a defaulting
solicitor to administer the _coup de grace_....

On the twelfth day of August, precisely at half-past two, Merry Down was
to be sold by auction at _The Fountain Inn_, Brooch.

Berry's news took our breath away.

"D'you mean to say that this is what I fought for?" said I. "For this
brute's peaceful possession of Merry Down?"

"Apparently," said my brother-in-law. "More. It's what Derry Bagot and
his boy died for, if you happen to be looking at it that way."

"It'll break Sir Anthony's heart," said Daphne.

"But I don't understand," said Adele. "How--why is it allowed?"

"I must have notice," said Berry, "of that question."

"Have you ever heard," said Jonah, "of the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Alien Enemies?"

Adele shook her head.

"I think you must have," said Jonah. "Some people call it the British
Nation. It's been going for years."

"That's right," said I. "And its motto is 'Charity begins at Home.'
There's really nothing more to be said."

"I could cry," announced Jill, in a voice that fully confirmed her
statement. "It's just piteous. What would poor Derry say? Can't anything
be done?"

Berry shrugged his shoulders.

"If half what I've heard is true, Merry Down is as good as gone. The
fellow means to have it, and he's rich enough to buy the county itself.
Short of assassination, I don't see what anybody can do. Of course, if
you like, you can reproduce him in wax and then stick pins into the
image. But that's very old-fashioned, and renders you liable to
cremation without the option of a fine. Besides, as a magistrate, I feel
it my bounden duty to----"

"I thought witchcraft and witches were out of date," said Adele.

"Not at all," said Berry. "Only last week we bound one over for
discussing the housing question with a wart-hog. The animal, which, till
then, had been laying steadily, became unsettled and suspicious and
finally attacked an inoffensive Stilton with every circumstance of
barbarity."

"How awful!" said Adele. "You do see life as a magistrate, don't you?
And I suppose somebody kissed the wart-hog, and it turned into a French
count? You know, it's a shame about you."

Berry looked round.

"Mocked," he said. "And at my own table. With her small mouth crammed
with food, for which I shall be called upon to pay, she actually----"

"O-o-oh!" cried Adele. "It wasn't. Besides, you shouldn't have asked
me."

"I can only say," said Berry, "that I am surprised and pained. From the
bosom of my family I, as the head, naturally expect nothing but the
foulest scurrility and derision. But when a comparative stranger, whom,
with characteristic generosity, I have made free of my heart, seizes a
moment which should have been devoted to the mastication of one of my
peaches to vilify her host, then indeed I feel almost unsexed--I mean
unmanned. Are my veins standing out like cords?"

"Only on your nose," said I. "All gnarled, that is."

"There you are," said Berry. "The slow belly reviles the sage. The----"

Scandalized cries from Daphne and Jill interrupted him.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said his wife, pushing back her
chair. "And now let's all have coffee on the terrace. That is, unless
you three want to stay."

Jonah, Berry and I shook our heads, and she took Adele's arm and led the
way out of the room....

It was a wonderful night.

While Nature slept, Magic, sceptred with a wand, sat on her throne.

The sky was rich black velvet, pricked at a million points, from every
one of which issued a cold white brilliance, just luminous enough to
show its whereness, sharp and clear-cut. No slightest breath of wind
ruffled the shadows of the sleeping trees. With one intent, Night and
the countryside had filled the cup of silence so that it brimmed--a feat
that neither cellarer can do alone. The faint sweet scent of honeysuckle
stole on its errant way, 'such stuff as dreams are made on,' so that the
silken fabric of the air took on a tint of daintiness so rare, fleeting,
and exquisite as made your fancy riot, conjuring mirages of smooth
enchantment, gardens that hung luxuriant beneath a languorous moon, the
plash of water and the soft sob of flutes....

For a long moment all the world was fairy. Then, with a wild scrabble of
claws upon stone, a small white shape shot from beneath my chair, took
the broad steps at a bound and vanished into the darkness. The welter of
barks and growls and grunts of expended energy, rising a moment later
from the midst of the great lawn, suggested that a cat had retired to
the convenient shelter of the mulberry tree.

The sudden eruption startled us all, and Berry dwelt with some asperity
upon the danger of distracting the digestive organs while at work.

Menacingly I demanded the terrier's immediate return. Upon the third
time of asking the uproar ceased, and a few seconds later Nobby came
padding out of the gloom with the cheerful demeanour of the labourer who
has done well and shown himself worthy of his hire. Wise in his
generation, he had learned that it is a hard heart which the
pleasurable, if mistaken, glow of faithful service will not disarm.
Sternly I set the miscreant upon my knee. For a moment we eyed one
another with mutual mistrust and understanding. Then he thrust up a wet
nose and licked my face....

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