Dornford Yates - Berry And Co.

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_Yours faithfully,_

_BERRY PLEYDELL._

_H. BASON, Esq._

_P.S.--You must forgive me for addressing you as "Esquire," but it is
difficult to break a foolish habit of courtesy which I formed as a
child. B. P._

"Fifteen thirty," cried Adele, making ready to serve. "Hullo!" She
pointed with her racket over my shoulder. "Nobby's gone lame."

I swung on my heel to see the terrier limping apologetically towards me,
and going dead lame upon the near fore.

As he came up, I dropped my racket and fell upon one knee, the better to
search for the cause of the trouble. Carefully I handled the affected
limb....

My fingers came to his toes, and the Sealyham winced. With a sigh of
relief, I laid him upon his back.

"Got it?" said Adele.

I looked up into the beautiful face three inches from mine.

"I fancy so." I bent to peer at the small firm foot. "Yes. Here we are.
He's picked up a puncture."

The next moment I plucked a substantial thorn from between two strong
black toes. A warm red tongue touched my restraining fingers in obvious
gratitude.

"Will he be all right?"--anxiously.

"He shall speak for himself," said I, releasing my patient.

With a galvanic squirm the latter regained his feet, spun into the air,
gyrated till I felt dizzy, and then streaked round the tennis-lawn, his
hind feet comically overreaching his fore, steering a zigzag course with
such inconsequence as suggested that My Lord of Misrule himself was
directing him by wireless.

It was not worth while finishing our interrupted game, so we strolled
back to the house. At the top of the stairs we parted, to go and change.
Directly after lunch we were to leave for the fair.

Six days had elapsed since Nobby's scuffle with the apple of Mr. Bason's
eye. Life had slipped by uneventfully. The Sealyham had been put upon a
strict diet and was thoroughly groomed three times a day: my store of
clean starched linen had dwindled to one shirt and two collars, which,
distrusting my brother-in-law, I kept under lock and key: and Mr. Bason
had been stung by our letter into sending a reply which afforded us the
maximum of gratification. It ran as follows--

_SIR,_

_Your insulting letter to hand._

_I stand by every word of my previous letter._

_The sooner, therefore, that you realize that I am not to be trifled
with, the better for all concerned._

_You are evidently one of those people who believe that impudent bluff
will carry them anywhere, and that, with your birth and upbringing
behind you, you can do as you please. But you are wrong. Among men who
are men, as distinct from pedantic popinjays, you go for nothing.
Pshaw._

_HERBERT BASON.

B. PLEYDELL, Esq._

_P.S.--Be good enough to note that my dog's name is "Blue Bandala," not
"Blue Banana."_

_H. B._

Our reply was dispatched within twenty-four hours.

_SIR,_

_Many thanks for your masterly appreciation of my character._

_We all think "pedantic popinjays" simply splendid. Is it your own?_

_Don't tell old Banana Skin, but I've had the nerve to enter my Sealyham
for the "All Comers" event at Brooch._

_So glad you're not to be trifled with. Selah._

_Yours faithfully,_

_BERRY PLEYDELL.

H. BASON, Esq._

In two days' time we should meet at Philippi.

It must be confessed that there were moments when we remembered our
precipitancy in some uneasiness. Nobby was well bred, but he had not
cost six hundred pounds. Always he looked his best, and his best was
extremely good. His many excellent points were set off by a most
attractive air and a singular charm and sprightliness of manner. Every
movement and pose was full of grace, and he had the brightest eyes that
I have ever seen. But Blue Bandala was clearly a "show" animal. Could
our little David beat this very Goliath among dogs, and that upon the
latter's own ground? Could our little amateur take on a plus-four
professional and beat him at his own game? There was no manner of doubt
that angels would at least have walked delicately where we had rushed
in. However, it was too late now. Even if we would, we could not draw
back. Beyond doing what we could to keep him as fit as a fiddle, there
was nothing to be done.

After a bath I put on a tweed suit, concealed my discarded and sole
surviving pair of white trousers from the rapacious eye of a random
housemaid, and descended to lunch.

An hour later Adele and Nobby and I were all in the Rolls, sailing along
the soft brown roads _en route_ for Fallow Hill.

It was a day of great loveliness, and the forest ways were one and all
beset with a rare glory.

Thirty-six hours before, the first frost of autumn had touched the
breast of Earth with silver finger-tips. 'Twas but a runaway knock. The
mischief-loving knave was gone again, before the bustling dame had
braced herself to open to her pert visitor. Maybe the rogue was beating
up his quarters. The time of his dreaded lodgment was not yet. His
apprehensive hostess was full of smiles. Summer was staying on....

Yet on the livery of the countryside the accolade of Frost had wrought a
wonder. Two days ago the world was green. To-day a million leaves
glanced, green as before, yet with a new-found lustre--something of red
in it, something of gold, something of sober brown. But the wonder was
not to the trees. It was the humble bracken that had been dubbed knight.
The homespun of the forest was become cloth of pure gold, glittering,
flawless. In the twinkling of an eye the change had come. Here was an
acre spread with the delicate fronds, and there a ragged mile, and
yonder but shreds and patches--yet all of magic gold, flinging the
sunlight back, lighting the shadows, making the humblest ride too rich
for kings to trample till the green roofs and walls looked dull beside
it, and the ephemeral magnificence took Memory by the throat and wrung a
lease of life from that Reversioner.

"Tell me," I said, "of Mr. Bason. He interests me, and I've never seen
him."

"Mr. Bason," said Adele, "is short and fat and--yes, I'm afraid he's
greasy. He has bright yellow hair and a ridiculous moustache, which is
brushed up on end on each side of his nostrils. He has very watery pale
blue eyes, and all the blood in his face seems to have gone to his
nose."

"Muscular rheumatism," I suggested.

"I guess so. Of course, he knows best, and I don't pretend to say what
men should wear, but white flannel suits aren't becoming to every
figure, are they? Most of the rest of him was mauve--shirt, socks and
handkerchief. Oh, and he had a tie on his pin."

"But how lovely!"

"Yes, but you should have smelt the lilac. He was just perfumed to
death. If he isn't careful, one of these days he'll get picked."

"One of the old school, in fact. Well, well...." We swept round a
corner, and I nodded ahead. "See that ridge in front of us? Well, that's
Fallow Hill. The village lies close, just on the other side."

"What are you going to do with the car?" said Adele.

"They'll let me lock her up--don't be shocked--at the brewery. I know
them there."

"You'll admit it sounds bad."

"Yes, but it smells lovely. You wait. For that reason alone, I should
vote against Prohibition. The honest scent of brewing, stealing across
the meadows on a summer eve, is one of the most inspiring things I
know."

"But what a man!" said Adele. "'Books in the running brooks, _Virtue in
vats_, and good in everything.' Nobby," she added reproachfully, "why
didn't you tell me he was a poet?" The Sealyham put his head on one
side, as if desiring her to repeat the question. "Oh, you cute thing!"
And, with that, my lady bent and kissed the terrier between the bright
brown eyes.

I put the wheel over hard, and the car swerved violently.

"For Heaven's sake!" cried Miss Feste. "What are you doing?"

"It's your fault," said I. "I'm only human. Besides, he doesn't deserve
it."

Adele flung me a dazzling smile, made as though she would say something,
and then, apparently changing her mind, relapsed into a provoking
silence....

A quarter of an hour later the Rolls had been safely bestowed at the
brewery, and my companion and I were making our way amusedly past booths
and tents and caravans, where chapmen, hucksters, drovers, cheapjacks,
gipsies and bawling showmen wrangled and chaffered and cried their wares
or entertainments, making with the crude music of the merry-go-rounds
much the same good-humoured uproar which had been faithfully rendered at
the village of Fallow Hill every September for the last five hundred
years.

"Blessings on your sweet pretty face, my lady!" cried an old voice.

We turned to see a very old gipsy, seated a little apart upon a backless
chair, nodding and smiling in our direction.

Adele inclined her head, and I slid a hand into my pocket.

"Come hither to me, my lady," piped the old dame, "and let your man
cross my old palm with silver, and I'll tell you your fortune. Ah, but
you have a happy face."

Adele looked at me, and I nodded.

"They're a good folk," I said, "and you'll get better stuff for your
money than you would in Bond Street. But don't, if you don't want to."

My words could not have been heard by the gipsy. Yet, before Adele could
reply--

"Aye," she said, "the pretty gentleman's right. We're a good folk, and
there be some among us can see farther than the dwellers in towns."
Adele started, and the crone laughed. "Come hither, my lady, and let me
look in your eyes."

She was an old, old woman, but the snow-white hair that thrust from
beneath her kerchief was not thin: her face was shrunken and wrinkled,
yet apple-cheeked: and her great sloe-black eyes glowed with a strange
brilliance, as if there were fires kindled deep in the wasted sockets.

Adele stepped forward, when, to my amazement, the gipsy put up her hands
and groped for the girl's shoulders. The significance of the gesture was
plain. She was stone blind.

For a while she mumbled, and, since I had not gone close, I did not hear
what she said. But Adele was smiling, and I saw the colour come flooding
into her cheeks....

Then the old dame lifted up her voice and called to me to come also.

I went to her side.

An old gnarled hand fumbled its way on to my arm.

"Aye," she piped. "Aye. Tis as I thought. Your man also must lose ere he
find. Together ye shall lose, and together gain. And ye shall comfort
one another."

The tremulous voice ceased, and the hands slipped away.

I gave her money and Adele thanked her prettily.

She cried a blessing upon us, I whistled to Nobby, and we strolled
on....

"Look at that baby," said Adele. "Isn't he cute?"

"Half a second," said I, turning and whistling. "Which baby?"

"There," said Adele, pointing. "With the golden hair."

A half-naked sun-kissed child regarded us with a shy smile. It was
impossible not to respond....

Again I turned and whistled.

"Where can he be?" said Adele anxiously.

"Oh, he always turns up," I said. "But, if you don't mind going back a
little way, it'll save time. With all this noise..."

We went back a little way. Then we went back a long way. Then we asked
people if they had seen a little white dog with a black patch. Always
the answer was in the negative. One man laughed and said something about
"a dog in a fair," and Fear began to knock at my heart. I whistled until
the muscles of my lips ached. Adele wanted us to search separately, but
I refused. It was not a place for her to wander alone. Feverishly we
sought everywhere. Twice a white dog sent our hopes soaring, only to
prove a stranger and dash them lower than before. Round and about and in
and out among the booths and swings and merry-go-rounds we hastened,
whistling, calling and inquiring in vain. Nobby was lost.

* * * * *

We had intended to be home in time for tea.

As it was, we got back to White Ladies, pale and dejected, at a quarter
to eight.

As she rose to get out of the car, Adele gave a cry and felt frantically
about her neck and throat.

"What's the matter?" I cried.

"My pearls," she said simply. "They're not here."

For what it was worth, I called for lights, and we took the cushions out
and looked in the car.

But there was no sign of the necklace. It was clean gone.

* * * * *

The lamentations with which the news of our misfortunes was received
were loud and exceeding bitter.

Jill burst into tears; Daphne tried vainly to comfort her, and then
followed her example; Berry and Jonah vied with each other in gloomy
cross-examination of Adele and myself concerning our movements since we
had left White Ladies, and in cheerless speculation with regard to the
probable whereabouts of our respective treasures.

After a hurried meal the Rolls was again requisitioned, and all six of
us proceeded to Fallow Hill. Not until eleven o'clock would the fun of
the fair be suspended, and it was better to be on the spot, even if for
the second time we had to come empty away, than to spend the evening in
the torment of inactivity.

Of the loss of the Sealyham we could speak more definitely than of that
of the necklace. Nobby had been by my side when the gipsy hailed us, so
that there was no doubt but that he was lost at the fair. Regarding her
pearls, Adele could speak less positively. In fact, to say that she had
had the necklace before breakfast that morning was really as far as she
could go. "I know I had it then," she affirmed, "because I always take
it off before taking my bath, and I remember putting it on afterwards.
As luck will have it, I was rather late this morning, and I couldn't
fasten the safety-chain, so after two or three shots I gave up trying,
intending to do it later on. And this is the result." She had not bathed
again.

It was a sweet pretty gaud. So perfectly matched were its hundred and
two pearls that many would have believed it unreal. It had belonged to
her great-grandmother, and was not insured.

Arrived at Fallow Hill, we went straight to the police. The loss of the
jewels we communicated to them alone. Somewhat shamefacedly and plainly
against Adele's will, I described the old gipsy and commended her to
their vigilance. When they learned that she had laid hands upon Adele,
the two inspectors exchanged glances which there was no mistaking....

So far as Nobby was concerned, as well as informing the police, we
enlisted the sympathy of the Boy Scouts. Also we engaged six rustics to
perambulate the fair and cry the loss of the Sealyham for all to hear.
Information leading to his recovery would be rewarded with the sum of
five pounds, while the crier to whom the communication was made would
receive five more for himself. Our six employees went about their work
with a will, bellowing lustily. Daphne and Jonah sat in the car,
rejecting the luckless mongrels which were excitedly paraded before
them, one after another, from the moment that our loss was made known.
The rest of us hunted in couples--Adele with Berry, and Jill with
me--scouring the maze of temporary alleys and lanes and crooked
quadrangles, till we knew them by heart.

The merry-go-rounds had stopped whirling, and the booths were being
shrouded or dismantled, as Jill and I made our way to the car for the
last time.

As we came up--

"That you, Boy?" cried Daphne. "Here's a waggoner who thinks he saw
Nobby being taken away."

A little knot of men parted, and Jill and I thrust our way forward.

"Oi wouldden be sure," said a deep rough voice, "but a was a lil white
chap of a dog on en' of a string. 'Twas a grume, simly, a-leadin' 'im
Brooch way. An' a didn't want for to go, neither, for a stock toes in, a
did, an' collar was 'alf-way over 'ead. Just come forth from _The Three
Bulls_, Oi 'ad, oop yonder o' Bear Lane, an' the toime were nigh three
o' the aafternoon."

We questioned him closely, but he could tell us no more.

Slight as the clue was, it was infinitely better than none at all. If it
was indeed Nobby that the waggoner had seen, the thief was taking him
out of the village, at least in the direction of White Ladies. This was
encouraging. That any one making for the railway station would take the
same road was a less pleasant reflection.

I took our informant's name and address and those of the crier who had
brought him to the car. Then we dispensed some silver, and left for
home.

Of Adele's necklace we had heard nothing.

We determined to concentrate upon the recovery of the pearls upon the
following day.

* * * * *

All through a wretched night the pitiful vacancy at the foot of my bed
reminded me brutally of my loss. My poor little dog--where was he
passing these dark hours? How many more must drag their way along before
the warm white ball lay curled again in the crook of my knees? Had he
rested there for the last time? With a groan I thrust the thought from
me, but always it returned, leering hideously. Miserably I recited his
qualities--his love for me, his mettle, his beauty, his unfailing good
humour.... What naughtiness there was in him seemed very precious.
Painfully I remembered his thousand pretty ways. He had a trick of
waving his little paws, when he was tired of begging....

Small wonder that I slept ill and fitfully.

Early as I was, the others were already at breakfast when I came down.
Only Adele had not appeared.

It was a melancholy meal.

Jonah said not a word, and Berry hardly opened his mouth. There were
dark rings under Jill's grey eyes, and Daphne looked pale and tired.

A communication from the Secretary of the Brooch Dog Show, enclosing a
pass for the following day, and informing me that my Sealyham must
arrive at the Show in the charge of not more than one attendant by 11
a.m., did not tend to revive our drooping spirits. We had nearly
finished, when, with a glance at the clock, my sister set her foot upon
the bell.

As the butler entered the room--

"Send up and see if Miss Feste will breakfast upstairs, Falcon. I
think----"

"Miss Feste has breakfasted, madam."

"Already?"

"Yes, madam. Her breakfast was taken to her before eight o'clock."

"Where is she?"

"I think she's out bicycling, madam."

"Bicycling?"

The inquiry leapt from five mouths simultaneously.

"Yes, madam. She sent for me and asked if I could find 'er a lady's
bicycle, an' Greenaway was very 'appy to lend 'er 'ers, madam. An' Fitch
pumped up the tires, an' she went off about 'alf-past eight, madam."

We stared at one another in bewilderment.

"Did she say where she was going?" said Berry.

"No, sir."

"All right, Falcon."

The butler bowed and withdrew.

Amid the chorus of astonished exclamation, Berry held up his hand.

"It's very simple," he said. "She's unhinged."

"Rubbish," said his wife.

"The disappearance of Nobby, followed by the loss of her necklace, has
preyed upon her mind. Regardless alike of my feelings and of the canons
of good taste, she rises at an hour which is almost blasphemous and goes
forth unreasonably to indulge in the most hellish form of exercise ever
invented. What further evidence do we need? By this time she has
probably detached the lamp from the velocipede and is walking about,
saying she's Florence Nightingale."

"Idiot," said Daphne.

"Not yet," said her husband, "but I can feel it coming on." He cast an
eye downward and shivered. "I feared as much. My left leg is all
unbuttoned."

"For goodness' sake," said his wife, "don't sit there drivelling----"

"Sorry," said Berry, "but I haven't got a clean bib left. This laundry
strike----"

"I said 'drivelling,' not 'dribbling.' You know I did. And what are we
wasting time for? Let's do something--anything."

"Right-oh," said her husband. "What about giving the bread some birds?"
And with that he picked up a loaf and deliberately pitched it out of the
window on to the terrace.

The fact that the casement was not open until after the cast, made his
behaviour the more outrageous.

The very wantonness of the act, however, had the excellent effect of
breaking the spell of melancholy under which we were labouring.

In a moment all was confusion.

Jill burst into shrieks of laughter; Jonah, who had been immersed in
_The Times_, cursed his cousin for the shock to his nerves; in a shaking
voice Daphne assured the butler, whom the crash had brought running,
that it was "All right, Falcon; Major Pleydell thought the window was
open"; and the delinquent himself was loudly clamouring to be told
whether he had won the slop-pail outright or had only got to keep it
clean for one year.

Twenty minutes later Jonah had left for Brooch to see the Chief
Constable about the missing jewels and arrange for the printing and
distribution of an advertisement for Nobby. The rest of us, doing our
utmost to garnish a forlorn hope with the seasoning of expectation, made
diligent search for the necklace about the terrace, gardens and
tennis-lawn. After a fruitless two hours we repaired to the house, where
we probed the depths of sofas and chairs, emptied umbrella-stands,
settles, flower-bowls and every other receptacle over which our guest
might have leaned, and finally thrust an electric torch into the bowels
of the piano and subjected that instrument to a thorough examination.

At length--

"I give it up," said Daphne, sinking into a chair. "I don't think it can
be here."

"Nor I," said I. "I think we've looked everywhere."

"Yes," said Berry. "There's only the cesspool left. We can drag that
before lunch, if you like, but I should prefer one more full meal before
I die."

"Boy! Boy!"

Somewhere from behind closed doors a sweet excited voice was calling.

I sprang to the door.

"Yes, Adele, yes?" I shouted.

A moment later my lady sped down a passage and into the hall.

"Get the car quick. I've found Nobby."

"Where?" we yelled.

"That man Bason's got him."

Her announcement momentarily deprived us of breath. Then we all started,
and in the next two minutes sufficient was said about the retired
music-hall proprietor to make that gentleman's pendulous ears burst into
blue flame.

Again want of breath intervened, and Adele besought us to make ready the
car.

We explained vociferously that Jonah had taken the Rolls and would be
back any minute. Whilst we were waiting, would she not tell us her tale?

Seating herself upon the arm of a chair, she complied forthwith.

"None of you seemed to suspect him, and, as I'm usually wrong, I decided
to say nothing. But last night I asked a Boy Scout where he lived.
Curiously enough, the boy had a brother who was a gardener in Bason's
employ. That made me think. I asked him whether I could have a word with
his brother, and he told me he lived at a cottage close to his work, and
was almost always at home between nine and half-past in the morning.

"When he came home this morning, I was waiting for him. He seemed a nice
man, so I told him the truth and asked him to help me. Thorn--that's his
name--doesn't like Bason a bit, and at once agreed that he was quite
capable of the dirtiest work, if any one got in his way. He hadn't, he
said, seen Nobby, but that wasn't surprising. If the dog was there he'd
probably be in the stables, and with those Thorn has nothing to do.

"Bason doesn't keep horses, but he uses one of the coach-houses as a
garage. The chauffeur seems to be rather worse than his master. He's
loathed by the rest of the staff, and, while he and Bason are as thick
as thieves, neither trusts the other an inch.

"The first thing to do, obviously, was to find out if Nobby was there.
Everything was always kept locked, so I determined to try the 'Blondel'
stunt--yes, I know a lot of English History--and try and make Coeur de
Lion speak for himself.

"First we synchronized our watches. Then Thorn showed me the house and
told me exactly where the garage and stables were--close to the gates,
happily. Then we arranged that in ten minutes' time he should try to get
the chauffeur out of the way, while I took a look round. More than that
we couldn't fix, but it was understood that, if there was a dog there
and Thorn got an opening, he was to undo his collar and give him a
chance to make good on his own. That wouldn't involve Thorn, for he
could fasten the collar again and make it look as if Nobby had slipped
it."

"But what a brain!" said Berry. "One short month of my society, and the
girl----"

An avalanche of protest cut short the speaker.

Adele continued, gurgling.

"At first everything went all right. At twenty minutes to ten I put my
head round the corner to see the chauffeur and Thorn disappearing at the
other end of the yard. I stepped out of my cover and had a look round.
There were stables on one side, and a coachhouse and garage on the
other, and the yard, which was open at both ends, lay in between. I was
just going to try the loose-boxes--I was going to 'miaow' like a cat and
see what answer I got--when I heard Bason's voice calling Banana....

"There was only one door open, and that was the garage. I dashed for it
and looked round for somewhere to hide. The place was as bare as your
hand. But there was nothing the matter with the limousine, so I got
inside and sat down on the floor.

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