Dornford Yates - Berry And Co.

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"Is this renumbering stunt a fact?" said Jonah. "Or are you Just being
funny?"

"It's a poisonous but copper-bottomed fact," said Berry. "This is the
sort of thing we pay rates and taxes for. Give me Germany."

"Can't we refuse?"

"I've rung up Merry and Merry, and they've looked up the law, and say
there's no appeal. We are at the mercy of some official who came out top
in algebra in '64 and has never recovered. Let us be thankful it wasn't
geography. Otherwise we should be required to name this house 'Sea View'
or 'Clovelly.' Permit me to remark that the port has now remained
opposite you for exactly four minutes of time, for three of which my
goblet has been empty."

"I think it's cruel," said Jill, passing on the decanter. "I think----"

"Hush," said Berry. "That wonderful organ, my brain, is working."
Rapidly he began to write upon the back of a _menu_. "We must inform the
world through the medium of the Press. An attractive paragraph must
appear in _The Times_. What could be more appropriate than an epitaph?
Ply me with wine, child. The sage is in labour with a song." Jill filled
his glass and he drank. "Another instant, and you shall hear the
deathless words. I always felt I should be buried in the Abbey. Anybody
give me a rhyme for 'bilge'? No, it doesn't matter. I have ingeniously
circumvented the crisis."

He added one line, held the card at arm's length, regarded it as a
painter a canvas, sighed, and began to read.

_A painful tale I must relate.
We used to live at thirty-eight,
But as we hope to go to heaven,
We've come to live at number seven.
Now, if we'd lived at number nine,
I'd got a simply priceless line--
I didn't want to drag in heaven,
But nothing else will rhyme with seven._

"Soldier, mountebank, and rhymester too!" said Jonah. "And yet we
breathe the same air."

"I admit it's strange," said my brother-in-law. "But it was foretold by
my predecessor. I think you'll find the prophecy in _Henry the Fifth_.
'And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, Neighboured by fruit of
baser quality.' My game, I think. What?"

* * * * *

As was fitting, St. George's Day dawned fair and cloudless. Her
passionate weeping of the day before dismissed, April was smiling--shyly
at first, as if uncertain that her recent waywardness had been forgiven,
and by and by so bravely that all the sweet o' the year rose up out of
the snowy orchards, dewy and odorous, danced in the gleaming meadows and
hung, glowing and breathless, in every swaying nursery that Spring had
once more built upon the patient trees.

The Rolls sailed through the country, proudly indifferent to hill or
dale, melting the leagues to miles with such swift deadliness as made
you sorry for the lean old road that once had been so much to reckon
with.

I was on the point of communicating this Quixotic reflection to Agatha
Deriot, who was seated in front between Jill and myself, when there fell
upon my reluctant ears that heavy sigh which only an expiring tire can
heave. As I slowed up, it occurred to me that the puissance of the roads
of England was still considerable.

"Which is it?" said Agatha.

"Off hind, I fancy." We were in the midst of a pleasant beechwood, and I
pulled in to the side of the road with a grunt. "If it had to be, it
might have happened in a less pleasing locality."

"I gather," said Berry's voice, "I gather that something untoward has
befallen the automobile. Should I be wrong, correct me and explain the
stoppage."

"With that singular clarity of intellect which never fails to recognize
the obvious, you have correctly diagnosed the case. We have picked up a
puncture."

"Speak for yourself," said Berry. "I always let them lie. I did gather a
bunch of bursts once, but----"

"Sorry," said I. "I forgot how near we were to Oxford. What I meant was
that some hostile body of a sharp nature had penetrated a tire, thus
untimely releasing the air hitherto therein confined."

"Thank you," said Berry. "Experience leads me to anticipate a slight
delay, the while you effect the necessary repairs. I shall therefore
compose myself to slumber and meditation. Possibly I shall toy with a
cigarette. Possibly----"

"Your programme will, I fear, miscarry for more than one reason. In the
first place, you're sitting on the jack. In the second place, clumsy
fool though you are, Jonah can change the wheel quicker if you help
him." With that I climbed out of the driver's seat, and lighted a
cigarette. "Who," I added, "will come for a little walk?"

"I'm coming," said Daphne, setting aside the rug and rising from her
seat between Jonah and her husband.

"I forbid you," said the latter, "to consort with that blasphemous
viper."

My sister leaned down and kissed him.

"A little gentle exercise," she said, "will do you good. I expect it'll
make you hot, so take your coat off. Then you'll have something to put
on again."

Coldly Berry regarded her.

"How long," he said, "did it take you to work that out?"

As we strolled down the sun-flecked road in the wake of Miss Deriot and
Jill, I turned and looked back at the car. Something was squatting on
the tarmac close to the petrol tank. The fact that Jonah was unstrapping
a spare wheel suggested that my brother-in-law was taking exercise....

My sister slid an arm through mine, and we walked idly on. The road
curled out of the wood into the unchecked sunlight, rising to where its
flashing hedgerows fell back ten paces each, leaving a fair green ride
on either side of the highway. Here jacketed elms made up a stately
colonnade, ready to nod their gay green crests at each stray zephyr's
touch, and throwing broad equidistant bars of shadow across the fresh
turf and the still moist ribbon of metalling beyond. Two piles of stones
lay heaped upon the sward, and, as we drew near, we heard the busy chink
of a stone-breaker's hammer, a melodious sound that fitted both morning
and venue to perfection. Again I fell to thinking on the old coach
road....

The stone-breaker was an old, old man, but the tone in which he gave us
"Good day" was blithe and good to hear, while he looked as fit as a
fiddle.

"You work very fast," said I, as he reached for a mammoth flint.

"Aye," he said. "But it come easy, sir, after so many year."

"Have you always done this?" said Daphne.

The old fellow plucked the gauze from his brow and touched his battered
hat.

"Naught else, m'm. Nine-and-seventy year come Michaelmas I've kep' the
Oxford road. An' me father before me."

"That's a wonderful record," said I amazedly. "And you carry your years
well."

"Thank you, sir. There's a many as tells me that. I'll be ninety-one in
the month o' June. An' can't write me own name, sir."

"That's no shame," said I. "Tell me, you must remember the coaches."

"That do I. They was took off my road just afore I started breakin'
meself, but long afore that I used to bring me father 'is dinner, an' I
remember them well. Many a time I've watched the 'Tantivy' go by, an'
Muster Cracknell drivin'. Always nodded to father, 'e did, an' passed
the time o' day. An' father, 'e'd wave 'is 'ammer, an' call me an' tell
me 'is name, an' what a fine coachman 'e were. 'Twas a Birmin'ham coach,
the 'Tantivy,' but Muster Cracknell used to 'and over at Oxford. London
to Oxford was 'is stretch, sir. An' back."

"Isn't that wonderful?" said Daphne.

Agatha and Jill, who had joined us, agreed in awestruck whispers.

The old fellow laughed.

"I've seen the coaches, m'm, and I've seen the motors, an' they can't
neither of them do without the road, m'm. As it was in the beginnin', so
ever it shall be. Soon I'll pass, but the road'll go on, an' others'll
break for 'er. For she must needs be patched, you know, m'm, she must
needs be patched...."

We gave him money, and he rose and uncovered and pulled his white
forelock with the antique courtesy of his class. As we turned away, I
pinched Daphne's arm.

"I'll bet no man's ever done that to you before."

She shook her head, smiling.

"I don't think so. It was very nice of him."

"What would you call him?" said Jill. "A stone-breaker?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"I suppose so. Or roadman."

"I know," said Agatha softly. "He's a Gentleman of the Road."

"Good for you," said I. "The title never became a highwayman one half so
well."

As I spoke, the Rolls stole up alongside. We climbed in, Jill and I
sitting behind for a change. With a foot on the step, Daphne looked at
her husband.

"Did you get very hot?" she said.

"I did," said Berry. "Every pore in my body has been in action. I always
think it's so nice to start a day like that."

"How would you like to break stones," said I, "for seventy-nine years?"

Jonah let in the clutch.

"I perceive," said Berry, "that you are under the influence of drink. At
the present moment I am more interested in the breaking of backs. Have
you ever jacked up a car?"

"Often. You must stoop to conquer."

"Stoop? You must have a comic spine. My trunk kept getting in the way.
And my nether limbs were superfluous. To do it properly you should be
severed below the armpits."

"The correct way," said I, "is to face the jack, and then bend backwards
till you face it again. Then it's simplicity itself. You work, as it
were, between your own legs."

My brother-in-law sighed.

"I used to do my boots up like that, when an agent in Germany. In that
way no one could assault me from behind. Those detailed to stab me in
the back were nonplussed and in several cases shot for incompetence."

A quarter of an hour later we slid over Magdalen Bridge.

* * * * *

The venerable city was unchanged. That same peculiar dignity, which no
impertinence can scathe, that same abiding peace, the handiwork of
labouring centuries, that immemorial youth, which drains the cups of
Time and pays no reckoning--three wonders of the world, rose up to meet
us visitors.

Oxford has but two moods.

This day she was _allegro_. The Sunshine Holyday of Spring had won her
from her other soberer state, and Mirth was in all her ways. Her busy
streets were bright, her blistered walls glowed and gave back the warmth
vouchsafed them, her spires and towers were glancing, vivid against the
blue: the unexpected green, that sprawled ragged upon scaly parapets,
thrust boldly out between the reverend mansions and smothered up the
songs of architects, trembled to meet its patron: the blowing meadows
beamed, gates lifted up their heads, retired quadrangles smiled in their
sleep, the very streams were lazy, and gardens, walks, spaces and
alleyed lanes were all betimes a-Maying.

Perhaps because it was St. George's Day, ghosts that the grey old stones
can conjure up, at Fancy's whim came thronging. The state of Kings rode
by familiar, shrewd virgin Majesty swayed in a litter down the roaring
streets, and the unruly pomp of a proud cardinal wended its scarlet way
past kneeling citizens. Cavaliers ruffled it in the chequered walks,
prelates and sages loaded the patient air with discourse, and phantom
tuck of drum ushered a praise-God soldiery to emptied bursaries. With
measured tread statesmen and scholars paced sober up and down the flags,
absorbed in argument, poets roamed absent by, and Law and bustling
Physic, learned and gowned and big with dignity, swept in and out the
gates of colleges whose very fame, that spurred their young intent, they
lived to magnify.

After a random drive about the city, in the course of which we visited
St. John's and Magdalen, we put the car in a garage and repaired to _The
Mitre_ for lunch.

Such other spectacles as we proposed to view lay more or less close
together, and could be inspected more conveniently without the car,
which claimed the constant vigilance of one of us just at the very times
we least could spare it.

Fortified by the deference shown him by his scout, whom we had
encountered while visiting his old rooms overlooking the Deer Park, my
brother-in-law had in some measure succeeded--so far as Jill and Agatha
were concerned--in investing his sojourn at Magdalen with an ill-merited
dignity; and Daphne, Jonah and I were quite justifiably delighted when a
prosperous-looking individual, with a slip in his waistcoat and a
diamond ring, left his table and laid a fat hand familiarly upon Berry's
shoulder.

"Hullo, Pleydell, old man. How's things? Don't remember me, I suppose.
Lewis." He mentioned the name of the minor college he had once adorned.
"You were at Magdalen, weren't you?"

Taken completely by surprise, Berry hesitated before replying in a tone
which would have chilled a glacier.

"Er--yes. I'm afraid my memory's not as good as yours. You must excuse
me."

"That's all right," said the other, with a fat laugh. "I was one of the
quiet little mice," he added archly, "and you were always such a gay
dog." To our indescribable delectation he actually thrust a stubby
forefinger into his victim's ribs.

"Er--yes," said Berry, moving his chair as far from his tormentor as
space would permit. "I suppose you were. One of the mice, I think you
said. You know, I still don't seem to remember your face or name. You're
quite sure...."

"Anno Domini," was the cheerful reply. "We're both older, eh? Don't you
remember the night we all----But p'r'aps I oughtn't to tell tales out of
school, ought I, old bean?" Again the forefinger was employed, and its
owner looked round expectantly. Beads of perspiration became visible
upon Berry's forehead, and Jonah and I burst into a roar of laughter.

Greatly encouraged by our mirth, Mr. Lewis beamed with geniality, and,
slapping Berry upon the back with the diamond ring, commended the good
old times, observed that the undergraduates of to-day were of a very
different class to "me and you," and added that England was in such a
rotten state that, if the Coal Controller had not personally begged him
to "carry on," he would have "up stick and cleared out to Australia long
ago."

At his concluding words Daphne sat up as if she had been shot. Then,
administering to me a kick, which she afterwards explained had been
intended for Berry, she smiled very charmingly.

"I suppose you're just up for the day, Mr. Lewis. As we are," she
inquired.

With an elaborate bow Mr. Lewis agreed, and in a moment the two were
carrying on an absurd conversation, to which Jonah and I contributed by
laughing unfeignedly whenever a remark justified an expression of mirth.
Jill and Agatha were on the edge of hysteria, and Berry sat sunk in a
condition of profound gloom, from which he occasionally emerged to fix
one or other of us with a stare of such malevolence as only served to
throw us into a fresh paroxysm of laughter.

Had Mr. Lewis for one moment appreciated the true cause of our
amusement, he would have been a broken man. Happily his self-confidence
was sublime, and, when Daphne finally bowed and remarked with a dazzling
smile that no doubt he and her husband would like to have a little chat
after luncheon, he retired in a perfect ecstasy of gratification.

When he was out of earshot--

"Why not ask him to come and live with us?" said Berry. "He could go to
the Loganberrys' ball on Tuesday, and Jonah and I can put him up for the
Club. He might even stay for Ascot."

"I think he's a topper," said I.

"Old college pal, I suppose," said Jonah. "Let's call the Stilton after
him."

"Listen," said Daphne. "Didn't you hear him say he was something to do
with coal? Well, the moment he said it, I thought of what I've been
trying to remember ever since yesterday morning. We've got three
hundredweight left, and we've had more than our ration already. For
goodness' sake, get him to do something for us."

"You wicked woman," said Berry. "You wicked, deceitful woman."

"Nonsense," said Daphne. "It's just a stroke of luck. Of course, he
mayn't be able to help, but it's worth trying. If you want to do without
a hot bath--let alone fires--for the next three months, I don't."

"And I am to be the cat's-paw?" said Berry. "I'm to have the felicity of
hobnobbing with that poisonous bounder----"

"You've done it before," said I. "He remembers it perfectly."

"Vermin," said Berry, "you lie. My association with that little pet was
confined to the two solitary occasions upon which I was so misguided as
to be the guest of a club of which he was not a member, but which was,
nevertheless, an institution of the college which he adorned. After
dinner it was customary to pay a short but eventful visit to the rooms
of the most unpopular man in college. On each occasion Mr. Lewis's rooms
were unanimously selected."

"Nemesis," said I. "He's getting his own back."

"I rejoice to think," said my brother-in-law, "that it was I who
conceived the idea of secreting Chinese figs in every pair of his boots
and shoes that could be found. If I remember, we used the best part of
two boxes."

"I depend upon you," said Daphne. "Be civil to him for five minutes, and
we'll--we'll wait for you between St. Mary's and The Radcliffe."

"But how nice of you! I should hate to suggest that you were not taking
any risks. Of course, a punt moored in midstream would be safer."

"He might be worse," said I. "I admit I could spare the diamond, but at
least he's not wearing a cummerbund and sand shoes."

"Hush," said Jonah. "He's keeping them for Henley. You won't catch him
out on dress. Ah me," he added with a sigh, "I love to see old chums
meet again, don't you?"

"There's nothing so touching," said I, "as a reunion of souls. To revive
the memory of boyhood's intimacy, of joys and troubles shared, of visits
to the tuck-shop.... If the truth were known, I expect they were always
together, sort of inseparable, you know."

"No doubt. Naturally, Berry's a bit shy at first, but that's often the
way. Before the afternoon's out, he'll be calling him 'Erb' again, and
they'll have changed hats."

"This," said Berry, "is intolerable. A little more and I shall burst
into large pear-shaped tears. Let's pay the bill, will you?" He rose to
his feet. "And now I'm going to remember more things in five minutes
than Mr. Lewis has forgotten in thirteen years. Will two tons be
enough?"

"Make it three," said Daphne.

"And we are to reassemble between St. Mary's and The Radcliffe. Or was
it between The Radcliffe and St. Mary's?"

"We shall wait five minutes and no more," said I. "That gives you one
minute forty seconds a ton, or five seconds a hundredweight. Keep the
home fires burning."

"Mathematician and imitation humorist," said Berry. "Isn't it wonderful?
Don't forget to let me know what the bill comes to. Just as a matter of
interest."

He sauntered in the direction of Mr. Lewis, who was watching him with
the air of a terrier that hopes to be taken out for a walk....

I called for the bill, and five minutes later the rest of us were
strolling across the cobbles under the shadow of The Radcliffe Camera.

"As soon as he comes," said Jonah, "we'll go to New College. We can sit
in the gardens there for a bit and suck soda-mints. When the process of
digestion is completed, we can see the chapel and hall, and then one of
us can borrow a gown, and we'll look in at The Bodleian."

The project seemed admirable, but, as has been frequently remarked, Man
but proposes.

More than four minutes had elapsed, and we were casually sauntering
towards The High, to see if Berry was in sight, when the latter swung
round the corner of Brasenose with Mr. Lewis stepping joyously by his
side.

Instead of his grey Homburg, my brother-in-law was wearing a soft
clerical hat which was too small for him. The ludicrous effect created
by this substitution of headgear can be more easily imagined than
described.

For a moment we wavered. Then Jill gave a shriek of laughter, and we
broke and scattered something after the manner of a mounted
reconnoitring patrol that has unexpectedly "bumped into" a battalion of
the enemy. Our retreat, however, was not exactly precipitate, and we
endeavoured to invest it with a semblance of hypocrisy not usually
thought necessary in warfare; but it was in no sense dignified, and only
a child, too young to differentiate between right and wrong, could have
failed to recognize the true motive which prompted our withdrawal.

Seizing Agatha by the arm I turned left about, pointed vehemently to the
dome of the Camera, and hurried her in the direction of the gate which
admitted to that institution. Simultaneously Jonah wheeled right about
and, apparently imparting information of a startling character
concerning the east front of Brasenose to his sister and cousin, began
to hustle them towards the entrance. To Berry's repeated nominal
exhortations we paid not the slightest attention. Coal or no coal, the
combination of Mr. Lewis and my brother-in-law--the latter in a mood
which the assumption of so ridiculous a garb made it impossible to
mistake--was too awful to contemplate. There are things which are worse
than a cold bath.

I did not stop until we were safely on the leads of the Camera.
Considerably out of breath, we leaned cautiously upon the balustrade, if
possible from our eminence to observe the manoeuvres of our terror. Look
where we would, there was no one to be seen.

"The brute must have followed the others into B.N.C.," I panted. "I'd
love to see them come out."

"I think he's a scream," said Agatha. "If he could only see himself in
that hat...."

She dissolved into peals of laughter.

"I agree. But I'd rather watch from the stalls than assist him in one of
his turns."

"Stalls? This is more like the gallery."

"True. But remember. 'Who sups with the devil should hold a long spoon.'
All the same, if you can bear another proverb, 'It's an ill wind,' etc.
If I hadn't been hard up for a refuge, I should never have thought of
bringing you up here, and for any one to get an idea of Oxford it's as
good a place as I know."

Miss Deriot gazed at the magnificent prospect before replying.

"It ought to make me feel very small," she said suddenly, "but somehow
it doesn't. It's so terribly old and all that, but it's got such a kind
look."

"That," said I, "is the quality of Oxford. And I congratulate you. You
are articulate where wise men have stood dumb. Perhaps it's because
you're so much alike."

"Who."

"You and Oxford."

"Am I so terribly old?"

I shook my head.

"But you're beautifully built, and you've got a kind look and handsome
ways, and your temples are a dream, and all our swains commend you,
and----"

"Stop, stop. You're getting mixed."

"Not at all. My intellect was never less clouded. In spite of two
glasses of ginger beer, my hand is like a spade--I mean a rock. Insert a
fly in your eye, and I will remove it unhesitatingly."

"I'll take your word for it," said Agatha.

"One of these days I shall compare you to a burst of melody. At the
present moment I am between your dimple and the deep sea."

"The dimple you are," said Agatha, with a smile that promised laughter
with difficulty suppressed.

Amusedly I regarded her.

She was very tastefully dressed. A blue silk coat and a white laced
blouse beneath it, a pale grey skirt of some soft stuff, grey silk
stockings and small grey shoes--these with a hat of crocheted silk that
matched her jersey--suited her pretty figure and the April day to rare
perfection.

Leaning easily against the worn masonry of the balustrade, slight, lithe
and graceful, she was the embodiment of vitality in repose. She stood so
still, but there was a light shining in the brown eyes, that were cast
down and over the parapet, keeping a careful watch for any indication of
Berry's activity, a tell-tale quiver of the sensitive nostrils, an
eagerness hanging on the parted lips, which, with her flushed cheeks,
lent to a striking face an air of freshness and a keen _joie de vivre_
that was exhilarating beyond description.

"I wonder what's happening," said Agatha, nodding down at the gateway.
"Can they get out another way?"

"I'm not sure. There is another gate, but----"

"At last," said a familiar voice. "I wouldn't have missed those stairs
for anything. Think of the fools who've trodden them before." The next
moment Berry, followed by Mr. Lewis, made his appearance. "Why, here are
our little playmates." He advanced beaming. "Don't be shy any longer.
And what a storied retreat you have selected!" He indicated the building
with a sweep of his arm. "You know, originally this was a helter-skelter
lighthouse, but Henry the Eighth lost his mat half-way down the chute,
and had it closed down in revenge. There was a great deal of feeling
about it. Especially on the part of the King. He hunted from a litter
for months."

I addressed myself to Miss Deriot.

"Wonderfully well-informed, isn't he? Scratch the buffoon and you get
the charlatan."

Berry turned to Mr. Lewis.

"Much of my crowded life," he said, "has been devoted to research. I am,
as it were, a crystal fount of knowledge. I beg that you will bathe in
me."

Not knowing exactly what reply to make to this offer, Mr. Lewis laughed
heartily, while Agatha, overcome with emotion, hurriedly turned away and
stared over the roofs of Oxford, shaking with long spasms of laughter.

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