"Sir?" answered a voice from behind the silk curtains cutting off the dressing1 and bathroom from the bedroom.
"What o'clock is it?"
"Just gone eight, sir."
"Get me some soda-water."
"Yes, sir."
The Hon. Richard lay still.
Higgs, a clean-shaven and smart-looking young man, appeared with a bottle of Schweppes and a tumbler on a salver.
The cork2 popped and the sufferer drank.
"What o'clock did I come home?"
"After twelve, sir—pretty nigh one."
"Was there anyone with me?"
"No, sir."
"No old gentleman?"
"No, sir."
"Was Randall there?"
"Yes, sir."
"And the car?"
"Yes, sir."
"There was no old gentleman in the car?"
"No, sir."
"Good heavens!" said Pugeot. "What can I have done with him?"
Higgs, not knowing, said nothing, moving about putting things in order and getting his master's bath ready.
"I've lost an old gentleman, Higgs," said Pugeot, for Higgs was a confidential3 servant as well as a valet.
"Indeed, sir," said Higgs, as though losing old gentlemen was as common as losing umbrellas.
"And the whole business is so funny I can scarcely believe it's true. I haven't a touch of the jim-jams, have I, Higgs?"
"Lord, sir, no! You're all right."
"Am I? See here, Higgs. Yesterday morning I met old Mr. Simon Pettigrew, the lawyer; mind, you are to say nothing about this to anyone—but stay a moment, go into the sitting-room4 and fetch me Who's Who."
Higgs fetched the book.
"'Pettigrew, Simon,'" read out Pugeot,[Pg 175] with the book resting on his knees, "'Justice of the Peace for Herts—President of the United Law Society—Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries'—h'm, h'm—'Club, Athen?um.' Well, I met the old gentleman in Piccadilly. We went for a spin together, and the last thing I remember was seeing him chasing a stableman round some inn yard, where we had stopped for petrol or whisky or something; chasing him round with a bucket. He was trying to put the bucket over the stableman's head."
"Fresh," said Higgs.
"As you say, fresh—but I want to know, was that an optical illusion? There were other things, too. If it wasn't an optical illusion I want to know what has become of the old gentleman? I'm nervous—for he did me a good turn once, and I hope to heaven I haven't let him in for any bother."
"Well, sir," said Higgs, "I wouldn't worry, not if I were you. It was only his little lark5, and most likely he's home safe by this."
"I have also a recollection of two ladies that got mixed up in the affair," went on the other, "but who they were I can't say. Little lark! The bother of it is, Higgs, one can't play little larks6 like that, safely, if one is a highly respectable person and a J.P. and[Pg 176] a member of the what's-its-name society."
He got up and tubbed and dressed, greatly troubled in his mind. People sucked into the Simon-whirl were generally troubled in their minds, so great is the Power of High Respectability when linked to the follies7 of youth.
At breakfast Mr. Robert Ravenshaw's card was presented by Higgs.
"Show him in," said Pugeot.
"Hullo, Ravenshaw!" said Pugeot. "Glad to see you. Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes, thanks. I only called for a moment to see you about my uncle."
"Which uncle?"
"Pettigrew——"
"Good heavens! You don't say he's——"
Bobby explained.
It was like a millstone removed from Pugeot's neck.
Then he, in his turn, explained.
Then Bobby went into details.
Then they consulted.
"You can't get him out of London without telling him where you are taking him to," said Pugeot. "He'll kick the car over on the road if he's anything like what he was last night. Leave it to me and I'll do the trick. But the question is, where shall we take him? There's[Pg 177] no use going to a place like Brighton; too many attractions for him. A moated grange is what he wants, and even then he'll be tumbling into the moat."
"I know of a place," said Bobby, "down at Upton-on-Hill. A girl told me of it; it's the Rose Hotel."
"I know it," said Pugeot; "couldn't be better. I have a cousin there living at a place called The Nook. There's a bowling-green at the hotel and a golf-course near. Can't hurt himself. Leave it all to me."
He told Higgs to telephone for the car, and then they sat and smoked whilst Pugeot showed Bobby just the way to deal with people of Uncle Simon's description.
"It's all nonsense, that doctor man's talk," said Pugeot. "The poor old chap has shed a nut or two. I ought to know something about it for I've had the same bother in my family. Got his youth back—pish! Cracked, that's the real name for it. I've seen it. I've seen my own uncle, when he was seventy, get his youth back—and the last time I saw him he was pulling a toy elephant along with a string. He'd got a taste also for playing with matches. Is that the car, Higgs? Well, come along, and let's try the power of a little gentle persuasion8."
Simon was finishing breakfast when they arrived, assisted by Madame and Cerise. Poor Monsieur Pattigrew did not seem in the least in the need of pity either, though the women hung about him as women hang about an invalid9. He was talking and laughing, and he greeted the newcomers as good companions who had just turned up. His geniality10 was not to be denied, and it struck Bobby, in a weird11 sort of manner, that Uncle Simon like this was a much pleasanter person than the old original article. Like this: that is to say, for a moment out of danger from the vicious grinding wheels of a city that destroys butterflies and a society that requests respectable old solicitors12 to remain respectable old solicitors.
Then, the women having discreetly13 retired14 for a while, Pugeot began his gentle persuasion.
Uncle Simon, with visions of yesterday's rural pleasures in his mind, required no persuasion, and he would come for a run into the country with pleasure; but Pugeot was not taking that sort of thing on any more. He was gay, but a very little of that sort of gaiety sufficed him for a long time.
"I don't mean that," said he; "I mean let's go down and stay for a while quietly at some nice place—I mean you and Ravenshaw[Pg 179] here—for business will oblige me to come back to town."
"No, thanks," said Simon; "I'm quite happy in London."
"But think how nice it will be in the country this weather," said Bobby. "London's so hot."
"I like it hot," said Simon; "weather can't be too hot for me."
Then the gentle persuaders alternately began offering inducements—bowls, golf, a jolly bar at an hotel they knew, even girls.
They might just as well have been offering buns to the lions of Trafalgar Square.
Then Bobby had an idea, and, leaving the room, he had a conference on the stairs with Madame Rossignol; with Cerise also.
Then leaving Simon to the women for a while, they went for a walk, and returned to find the marble wax.
Simon did not mind a few days in the country if the ladies would come as his guests; he was enthusiastic on the subject now. They would all go and have a jolly time in the country. The old poetical15 instinct that had not shown itself up to this, restrained, no doubt, by the mesmerism of London, seemed to be awakening16 and promising17 new developments.
Bobby did not care; poetry or a Pickford's[Pg 180] van were all the same to him as long as they got Simon out of London.
He had promised Julia Delyse, if you remember, to see her that day, but he had quite forgotten her for the moment.
点击收听单词发音
1 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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2 cork | |
n.软木,软木塞 | |
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3 confidential | |
adj.秘(机)密的,表示信任的,担任机密工作的 | |
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4 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
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5 lark | |
n.云雀,百灵鸟;n.嬉戏,玩笑;vi.嬉戏 | |
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6 larks | |
n.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的名词复数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了v.百灵科鸟(尤指云雀)( lark的第三人称单数 );一大早就起床;鸡鸣即起;(因太费力而不想干时说)算了 | |
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7 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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8 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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9 invalid | |
n.病人,伤残人;adj.有病的,伤残的;无效的 | |
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10 geniality | |
n.和蔼,诚恳;愉快 | |
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11 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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12 solicitors | |
初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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13 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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14 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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15 poetical | |
adj.似诗人的;诗一般的;韵文的;富有诗意的 | |
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16 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
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17 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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