Дживс, вы – гений! / Thank you, Jeeves!

“But you said he didn’t know anything about the engagement.”

“Mr Stoker’s motive is not to prevent her encountering his lordship, but to obviate any chance of her meeting you, sir. The fact that you embraced the young lady has convinced him that her affection for you has persisted since your parting in New York.”

“You’re sure you really heard all this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You were talking with Chuffy, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he heard all that, too?”

“Yes, sir.”

“About me kissing Miss Stoker?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did he say?”

“He mentioned something about giving you a good lesson, sir.”

“Jeeves,” I said, “advise me, Jeeves.”

“Well, sir, I think it might be judicious if you were to attempt to persuade his lordship that the spirit in which you embraced Miss Stoker was a purely brotherly one.”

I rose.

“It may work, Jeeves. It is, at least, worth trying. I shall now leave you, to prepare myself for the ordeal before me with silent meditation.”

“Your tea will be here in a moment, sir.”

“No, Jeeves. This is no time for tea. I must concentrate. I dare say I shall see him shortly.”

“It would not surprise me if you find his lordship awaiting you at your cottage, sir.”

* * *

He was absolutely correct. No sooner had I crossed the threshold than I saw Chuffy, gazing upon me.

“Ah!” he said, “Here you are at last!”

I gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Here I am, yes. And I have heard all. Jeeves told me. Too bad, too bad. I did not think, old man, when I bestowed a brotherly kiss on Pauline Stoker by way of congratulating her on your engagement, that it would make all this trouble.”

“Brotherly? Hm!”

“Essentially brotherly.”

A struggle was going on in the old boy’s bosom. Then he became calmer.

“Well, all right,” he said. “But in future if you want sisters, seek them elsewhere.”

“Just so. Then you still intend to marry this Pauline?

“Intend to marry her? Of course I intend to marry her. I’d look a silly ass not marrying a girl like that, wouldn’t I?”

“But Stoker is not going to buy the Hall, is he?”

“Bertie,” he said, “don’t remind me of a time when I must have been absolutely stupid. I can’t imagine how I ever felt like that. My views have changed. I don’t care now if I haven’t a bean and she’s got millions.”

“Fine.”

“What does money matter?”

“Quite.”

“I mean, love’s love.”

“You never spoke a truer word. If I were you, I’d write her a letter embodying those views.”

“I will. And, by Lord!”

“What?”

“Jeeves shall take it to her. I should have told you that Stoker wanted Jeeves to leave me and enter his service. Now I am all for it. Jeeves shall go to him.”

“I see what you mean. Under the Stoker banner, he will be free to come and go.”

“Exactly.”

“He can take a letter from you to her and then one from her to you and then one from you to her and then one from her to you and then one from you to her and then one—”

“Yes, yes. You’ve got the idea. And in the course of this correspondence we can fix up some scheme for meeting. Have you any idea how long it takes to organize a wedding?”

“I’m not sure. I believe, if you get a special license, you can do it like a flash.”

“I’ll get a special license. I feel a new man. I’ll go and tell Jeeves at once. He can be on that yacht this evening.”

At this point he suddenly stopped.

“I suppose she really does love me?”

“Dash it, old man, didn’t she say so?”

“She said so, yes. Yes, she said so. But can you believe what a girl says?”

“My dear chap!”

“Well, she may have been fooling me.”

“Stop it, laddie.”

He had left me. It had been a strenuous day. I felt restless.

“I shall dine out, Brinkley,” I said.

This man had been sent down by the agency in London, and I want to say he wasn’t the fellow I’d have selected if I had had time to make a choice in person. Not at all the man of my dreams. A melancholy blighter, with a long, thin, face and deep eyes. I had been trying to establish cordial relations ever since he had arrived, but with no success. Outwardly he was all respectfulness, but inwardly you could see that he was a man who was dreaming about the Social Revolution and looked on Bertram as a tyrant and an oppressor.

“Yes, Brinkley, I shall dine out.”

He said nothing, merely looking at me.

I went round to the garage and got the car out. It was only a matter of thirty miles or so to Bristol, and I got there to watch a musical comedy. I was feeling rested and refreshed when I started back home.

As I opened the door of my room, I dropped the candle. Pauline Stoker in my heliotrope pyjamas was sitting on my bed.

7

A Visitor for Bertie

The attitude of fellows towards finding girls in their bedroom after midnight varies. Some like it. Some don’t. I didn’t.

“What—What—What—?”

“It’s all right.”

“All right?”

“Quite all right.”

“Oh?” I said. I stooped to pick up the candle, and the next moment I had uttered a cry.

“Don’t make such a noise!”

“But there’s a corpse on the floor.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is, I tell you. I was looking about for the candle, and my fingers touched something cold and still and wet.”

“Oh, that’s my swimming suit.”

“Your swimming suit?”

“Well, do you think I came ashore by aeroplane?”

“You swam here from the yacht?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You know, Bertie, steps should be taken about you.”

“Eh?”

“You ought to be in some sort of a home.”

“I am,” I replied coldly and rather cleverly. “My own. But what are you doing in it?”

She did not answer.

“Why did you want to kiss me in front of father? I can quite understand now why Sir Roderick told father that you ought to be under restraint.”

“The incident to which you allude is readily explained. I thought he was Chuffy.”

“Thought who was Chuffy?”

“Your father.”

“I don’t see what you mean,” she replied coldly.

I explained.

“The idea was to let Chuffy observe you in my embrace. To force him act speedily.”

“That was very sweet of you.”

“We Woosters are sweet, exceedingly sweet, when a pal’s happiness is spoken about.”

“I can see now why I accepted you that night in New York,” she said meditatively. “If I wasn’t so crazy about Marmaduke, I could easily marry you, Bertie.”

“No, no,” I said, with some alarm. “Don’t dream of it. I mean to say—”

“Oh, it’s all right. I’m not going to. I’m going to marry Marmaduke; that’s why I’m here.”

“And now,” I said, “we’ve come right back to it. You say you swam ashore from the yacht? Why? You came here. Why?”

“Because I wanted somewhere to go till I could get clothes, of course. I can’t go to the Hall in a swimming suit.”

“Oh, you swam ashore to get to Chuffy?”

“Of course. Father was keeping me a prisoner on board the yacht, and this evening Jeeves arrived with an early letter from Marmaduke. Oh! I cried six pints when I read it. It was beautiful. It throbbed with poetry.”

“It did?”

“Yes.”

“This letter?”

“Yes.”

“Chuffy’s letter?”

“Yes. You seem surprised.”

I was a bit.

“I felt I couldn’t wait another day without seeing him,” she continued. “And, talking of Jeeves, what a man!”

“Oh, you confided in Jeeves?[59]“

“Yes. And told him what I was going to do.”

“And he didn’t try to stop you?”

“Stop me? He was all for it.”

“He was, was he?”

“You should have seen him. Such a kind smile. He said you would be delighted to help me.”

“He did, eh?”

“He spoke most highly of you.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes, he thinks a lot of you. I remember his very words. ‘Mr Wooster, miss,’ he said, ‘is, perhaps, mentally somewhat negligible[60], but he has a heart of gold.’ He was lowering me from the side of the boat by a rope.”

I was chewing the lip in some chagrin.

“What the devil did he mean, ‘mentally negligible’?”

“Oh, you know. Loopy.”

“Tchah!”

“Eh?”

“I said ‘Tchah!’”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, wouldn’t you say ‘Tchah!’ if your late servant was telling people you were mentally negligible?”

“But with a heart of gold.”

“Never mind the heart of gold.”

“Bertie! Are you annoyed?”

“Annoyed!”

“You sound annoyed. And I can’t see why. I thought that you would help me get to the man I love. Having this heart of gold.”

“The point is not whether I have a heart of gold. Many people have hearts of gold and yet they will be upset at finding girls in their bedrooms at night. The girls who come in, in the middle of the night, and coolly take your pyjamas—”

“You didn’t expect me to sleep in a wet swimming suit?”

“—and leap into your bed—”

She uttered an exclamation.

“I know what this reminds me of. I’ve been trying to think ever since you came in. The story of the Three Bears. ‘There’s somebody in my bed…’ Wasn’t that what the Big Bear said?”

I frowned doubtfully.

“As I recollect it, it was something about porridge. ‘Who’s been eating my porridge?’”

“I’m sure there was a bed in it.”

“Bed? Bed? I can’t remember any bed. What will people say when they find you here?”

“But they won’t find me here.”

“You think so? Ha! What about Brinkley?”

“Who’s he?”

“My new man. At nine tomorrow morning he will bring me tea.”

“But wait a minute. You are talking about Brinkley, but there is no Brinkley.”

“There is Brinkley. One Brinkley. And one Brinkley coming into this room at nine o’clock tomorrow morning and finding you in that bed will start a scandal.”

“I mean, he can’t be in the house.”

“Of course he’s in the house.”

“Well, he must be deaf, then. I made big noise getting in.”

“Did you smash the window?”

“I had to, or I couldn’t have got in. It was the window of some sort of bedroom on the ground floor.”

“Why, dash it, that’s Brinkley’s bedroom.”

“Well, he wasn’t in it.”

“Why not?”

But what she would answer, I did not learn. Somebody was knocking on the front door.

8

Police Persecution

We looked at each other with a wild surmise.

“It’s father!” Pauline gargled, and she doused the candle.

“What did you do that for?” I said. The sudden darkness seemed to make things worse.

“So that he shouldn’t see a light in the window, of course. If he thinks you’re asleep he may go away.”

“What a hope!” I retorted, as the knocking started again.

“Well, I suppose you had better go down,” said the girl. “Or”—she seemed to brighten—“shall we pour water on him from the staircase window?”

I started.

“Don’t dream of it!” I whispered urgently.

I mean to say, dry J. Washburn Stoker was bad enough. But wet J. Washburn Stoker was even worse.

“I’ll have to see him,” I said.

“Well, be careful.”

“How do you mean, careful?”

“Oh, just careful. Still, of course, he may not have a gun.”

“Well, dash it,” I said, “I shall have to go down and talk to him. That door will be splitting asunder soon.”

“Don’t get close to him.”

“I won’t.”

“He was a great wrestler when he was a young man.”

“You needn’t tell me any more about your father.”

“Is there anywhere I can hide?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know why not,” I replied. “They don’t build these country cottages with secret rooms and underground passages. When you hear me open the front door, stop breathing.”

“Do you want me to suffocate?”

I did not reply and hurried down the stairs and flung open the front door. Well, when I say “flung”, I opened it a matter of six inches.

“Hallo?” I said. “Yes?”

“Oy!” said a voice. “What’s the matter with you, young man? Deaf or something?”

It wasn’t the voice of J. Washburn Stoker.

“Frightfully sorry,” I said. “I was thinking of this and that. Sort of reverie, if you know what I mean.”

The voice spoke again.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I thought you was the young man Brinkley.”

“Brinkley’s out,” I said, “Who are you?”

“Sergeant Voules, sir.”

I opened the door. It was pretty dark outside, but I could recognize the arm of the Law.

“Ah, Sergeant!” I said. “Anything I can do for you, Sergeant?”

My eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness by this time, and I was enabled to see another policeman. Tall and lean, this one.

“This is my young nephew, sir. Constable Dobson[61].”

“Ah, Dobson!” I said.

“Are you aware, sir, that there’s a window broke at the back of your residence? My young nephew here saw it and thought best to wake me up and have me investigate. A ground-floor window, sir.”

“Oh, that? Yes, Brinkley did that yesterday. Silly ass!”

“You knew about it, then, sir?”

“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Quite all right, Sergeant.”

“Well, you know best if it’s quite all right, sir, but I should say there was a danger of thieves getting through.”

And at this point Dobson said, “I thought I saw a thief getting through, Uncle Ted.”

“What! Then why didn’t you tell me before, you young muttonhead[62]? And don’t call me Uncle Ted when we’re on duty.”

“No, Uncle Ted.”

“You’d best let us make a search of the house, sir,” said Sergeant Voules.

“Certainly not, Sergeant,” I said. “Quite out of the question[63].”

“It would be wiser, sir.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but it can’t be done.”

He seemed discontented.

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night.”

I shut the door and came back to the bedroom. Pauline was sitting up in bed.

“Who was it?”

“Police.”

“What did they want?”

“Apparently they saw you getting in.”

“What a lot of trouble I’m giving you, Bertie.”

“Oh, no. Only too pleased. Well, I suppose I must go away.”

“Are you going?”

“I shall go to the garage,” I replied.

“Isn’t there a sofa downstairs?”

“There is. Noah’s[64]. He brought it ashore on Mount Ararat[65]. I shall be better off in the car.”

“Oh, Bertie, I am giving you a lot of trouble.”

I sighed. Love’s love.

“Don’t you worry. We Woosters are always ready to help poor lovers. You put your little head on the pillow and sleep. I shall be all right.”

And, so saying, I went down the stairs, opened the front door, and out into the scented night. Suddenly a heavy hand fell on my shoulder.

“Ouch!” I said.

It was Constable Dobson.

“I beg your pardon, sir. I thought you were the thief.”

“Quite all right, Constable. Quite all right. Just going for a stroll.”

“I understand, sir. Breath of air.”

“Yes. Exactly. A breath, as you astutely observe, of air.”

“Oh, yes, sir. Well, good night, sir.”

“Good night. Tra-la, Constable.”

I proceeded on my way. I had left the garage door open, and I went to my old car, glad to be alone again. I climbed into the car and.

A light suddenly flashed on the features and a voice instructed me to come out of the car.

“Ah, Sergeant!” I said.

Another awkward meeting.

“Is that you, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry to have disturbed you, sir.”

“Not at all. I thought I’d try to get a bit of sleep in the old car, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such a warm night.”

“Just so, sir.”

His voice was respectful, but there was something in his manner that gave me the idea that he considered Bertram eccentric.

“I often sleep in the car in the summertime.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Good night, Sergeant.”

“Good night, sir.”

I soon saw that all efforts in the direction of the restful night would be fruitless. I went out of the car and decided to sleep on the floor. It was smelling of mice and mould. But at the end of about half an hour a soothing drowsiness had begun to come to me.

And at the end of about thirty-five minutes the door flew open and there was the old, familiar lantern shining in again.

“Ah!” said Sergeant Voules.

And Constable Dobson said the same.

“Yes?” I said. “What is it now?”

“Is that you again, sir?” inquired the sergeant.

“Yes, it is, dash it! What, may I ask, does this mean? Sleep under these conditions becomes impossible.”

“Very sorry, sir. It never occurred to me that it could be you.”

“And why not?”

“Well, sleeping in a shed, sir—”

“You do not dispute the fact that it is my shed?”

“No, sir. But it seems funny.”

“I see nothing funny in it whatsoever. I have a right, have I not, to sleep where I please?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Exactly. It might be the coal cellar[66]. It might be the front door steps[67]. It happens to be this shed. I will now thank you, Sergeant, to withdraw.”

“Are you intending to remain here the rest of the night, sir?”

“Certainly. Why not?”

He was at a loss.[68]

“Well, I suppose there’s no reason why you shouldn’t, if you want to, sir.”

I had had enough of this.

“I hate beds,” I said. “Can’t stand them. Never could.”

“Very good, sir.” He paused a moment. “Quite a warm day today, sir.”

“Quite.”

“Yes, sir. Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Sergeant.”

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Constable.”

“Good night, sir.”

The door closed softly. And not ten minutes after I had decided that I should never get to sleep again in this world I was off as comfortably as a babe.

It couldn’t last long, of course. The next thing I remember is someone joggling my arm.

I sat up. There was the good old lantern once more.

“Now, listen—” I was beginning, when the words froze on my lips.

The fellow who was joggling my arm was Chuffy.

9

Lovers’ Meetings

I just sat goggling at him, wondering how he had got there.

Chuffy was bending over me, in the background I could see Sergeant Voules. What had become of Constable Dobson, I did not know. Maybe he was dead.

“It’s all right, Bertie,” said Chuffy soothingly. “It’s me, old man.”

“I found his lordship by the side of the harbour,” explained the sergeant.

“The sergeant was worried about you, Bertie. He thought your manner was strange. So he brought me along to have a look at you. Very sensible of you, Voules.”

“Thank you.”

“You couldn’t have done a wiser thing.”

“Thank you.”

“Something went wrong, old chap,” said Chuffy gently, “didn’t you? If you are sleeping out here.”

“Why shouldn’t I sleep out here?”

I saw Chuffy and the sergeant exchange glances.

“But you’ve got a bedroom, old fellow. You’ve got a nice bedroom, haven’t you? It is more convenient to sleep in your cozy little bedroom.”

“There’s a spider in my bedroom.”

“A spider, eh? Pink?”

“Pinkish.”

“With long legs?”

“Very long legs.”

“And hairy?”

“Very hairy.”

Chuffy grinned in a most unpleasant manner and, rising, drew Sergeant Voules aside and addressed a remark to him,

“It’s all right, Sergeant. Nothing to worry about. He’s simply drunk.”

“Is that so?” said Sergeant Voules. And his voice was the voice of a sergeant to whom all things have been made clear.

“That’s all that’s the trouble. Completely drunk. You notice the glassy look in the eyes[69]?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’ve seen him like this before. Once, after a party at Oxford, he insisted that he was a mermaid and wanted to dive into the college fountain and play the harp there.”

“Young gents will be young gents,” said Sergeant Voules in a tolerant and broad-minded manner[70].

“We must put him to bed.”

I jumped up. Horror-stricken. Trembling like a leaf.

“I don’t want to go to bed!”

Chuffy stroked my arm soothingly.

“It’s all right, Bertie. Quite all right. We understand. No wonder you were frightened. Beastly great spider. Enough to frighten anyone. But it’s all right now. Voules and I will come up to your room with you and kill it. You aren’t scared of spiders, Voules?”

“No.”

“You hear that, Bertie? Voules will stand by you. Voules can tackle any spider[71]. How many spiders did you kill India, Voules?”

“Ninety-six.”

“Big ones, if I remember rightly?”

“Enormous.”

“There, Bertie. You see there’s nothing to be afraid of. You take this arm, Sergeant. I’ll take the other. Just relax, Bertie. We’ll hold you up.”

Looking back, I am not certain whether I didn’t do the wrong thing. I punched the sergeant in the tummy and ran away.

Well, you can’t go far fast in a dark littered shed. I fell with a dull, sickening thud, and in a minute I found I was being carried through the summer night in the direction of the house. Chuffy had got me under the arms, and Sergeant Voules was attached to my feet. And, thus linked, we passed through the front door and up the stairs.

We had reached the bedroom door now, and what I was asking myself was, What will be when Chuffy opens the door?

“Chuffy,” I said, and I spoke earnestly, “don’t go into that room!”

“I know, I know,” he said. “Never mind. Soon be in bed.”

I considered his manner offensive, and would have said so, but at this moment speech was wiped from my lips. With a quick heave, my bearers had suddenly dumped me on the bed, and there were only a blanket and pillow on it. No girl in pyjamas.

I lay there, wondering. Chuffy had found the candle and lighted it, and I was now in a position to look about me. Pauline Stoker had absolutely disappeared.

“Thanks, Sergeant. I can manage now,” said Chuffy

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, it’s quite all right. He will sleep.”

“Then I’ll be going. It’s a bit late for me.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

The sergeant clumped down the stairs, and Chuffy took off my boots.

“That’s my little man,” he said. “Now you lie quite quiet, Bertie, and take things easy.”

Suddenly the door of the hanging cupboard outside the room opened and Pauline Stoker came in. In fact, she seemed entertained.

“Oh! What a night, what a night!” she said amusedly. “Bertie, who were those men I heard going out?”

And then she suddenly saw Chuffy, and the love light came into her eyes as if somebody had pressed a switch.

“Marmaduke!” she cried, and stood there, staring.

Chuffy’s eyebrows had shot up, the jaw had fallen, and the eyes were protruding from the parent sockets[72].

“So!” he said, finding speech—if you can call that speech.

“What do you mean? Why are you looking like that?”

I had risen from the bed on Pauline’s entry and had been going towards the door. But I had no boots on, I had decided to remain.

“What you need, Chuffy, old man,” I said, “is simple faith. The poet Tennyson[73] tells us—”

“Shut up,” said Chuffy. “I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

Pauline was looking a bit fogged.

“Oh!” she said.

Naturally, she’s a bit upset.

“Oh!” she said, for the third time, and her teeth gave a little click, most unpleasant. “So that’s what you think?”

Chuffy shook his head.

“Of course I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t think anything of the kind,” said Chuffy. “I know that Bertie has been sleeping in a shed,” continued Chuffy. “But that’s not the point. The fact remains that in spite of being engaged to me, you are still so much in love with Bertie that you can’t keep away from him. You think I don’t know all about your being engaged to him in New York, but I do. Oh, I’m not complaining, you have a perfect right to love who you like—”

“Whom, old man,” I corrected him.

“Will you keep quiet!”

“Of course, of course.”

“Shut up!”

“Sorry, sorry. Shan’t occur again[74].”

“Well, then, perhaps you’ll listen to what I’m going to say. I suppose you have no objection to my putting in a word?” said Pauline.

“None,” said Chuffy.

“None, none,” I said.

Pauline was very angry. I could see her toes wiggling.

“In the first place, you make me sick!”

“Indeed?”

“Yes, indeed. In the second place, I hope I shall never see you again in this world or the next.”

“Really?”