Jonah and Co. (14 page)

“Still it never occurred to me. There are times when you have to be told right out. I didn’t have to wait long.

“As I presented my ticket, a truck full of luggage was pushed through the gate next to mine. The porters about it were sneezing bitterly. ‘Snuff?’ said one of them contemptuously. ‘Snuff be blarsted!
It’s pepper!
’

“Whether at that moment my stomach in fact slipped or not I am unable to say, but the impression that my contents had dropped several inches was overwhelming.

“I staggered into the Pullman, more dead than alive… After a large barley and a small water, I felt somewhat revived, but it was not until the train was halfway to Dover that I had myself in hand. I was just beginning under the auspices of a second milk and soda, to consider my hideous plight, when a genial fool upon the opposite side of the table asked me if I had ‘witnessed the comedy at Victoria.’ Icily I inquired: ‘What comedy? ‘ He explained offensively that ‘some cuckoo had tried the old wheeze of stuffing pepper in his trunk to put off the Customs,’ and that the intended deterrent had untimely emerged. My brothers, conceive my exhilaration. ‘The old wheeze.’ I could have broken the brute’s neck. When he offered me a filthy-looking cigar with a kink in it, and said with a leer that I shouldn’t ‘get many like that on the other side of the Chops,’ I could have witnessed his mutilation unmoved…

“Still, it’s an ill wind… The swine’s words were like a spur. I became determined to get the stuff through.

“Grimly I watched the case go on to the boat, to the accompaniment of such nasal convulsions as I had never believed to be consistent with life itself. By way of diverting suspicion, I asked one of the crew what was the matter. His blasphemous answer was charged with such malignity that I found it necessary to stay myself with yet another still lemonade.

“Arrived at Calais, I hurried on board the train.

“The journey to Paris was frightful. The nearer we got, the more dishevelled became my wits. The power of concentration deserted me. Finally, as we were running in, I found that I had forgotten the French for ‘moths.’ I’d looked it out the night before: I’d been murmuring it all day long: and now, at the critical moment, it had deserted me. I clasped my head in my hands and thought like a madman. Nothing doing. I thought all round it, of course. I thought of candles and camphor and dusk. My vocabulary became gigantic, but it did not include the French equivalent for ‘moths.’ In desperation I approached my vis-à-vis and, in broken accents, implored him to tell me ‘the French for the little creatures which you find in your clothes.’…

“I like the French. If I’d asked an Englishman, he’d have pulled the communication-cord, but this fellow never so much as stared. He just released a little spurt of goodwill and then started in, as if his future happiness depended on putting me straight. ‘But I was meaning the fleas. Oh, indubitably. Animals most gross. Only last November he himself…’ It took quite a lot of persuasion to get him off fleas. Then he offered me lice. I managed to make him understand that the attack was delivered when the clothes were unoccupied. Instantly he suggested rats. With an effort I explained that the things I meant were winged. As the train came to a standstill, he handed me
‘chauvesouris
.’ Bats! I ask you…

“I stepped on to the platform as if I was descending into my tomb. How I got to the baggage-room, I’m hanged if I know; but I remember standing there, shivering and wiping the sweat off my face. Truck by truck the registered baggage appeared…

“I heard my case coming for about a quarter of a mile.

“The architecture of the baggage-room at the
Gare du Nord
may be crude, but its acoustic properties are superb. The noise which accompanied the arrival of the cortège was simply ear-splitting. I was in the very act of wondering whether, if I decided to retire, my legs would carry me, when, with a crash, my uniform-case was slammed on to the counter three paces away…

“A cloud of pepper arose from it, and in an instant all was confusion. Passengers and porters in the vicinity dropped everything and made a rush for the doors. A Customs official, who was plumbing the depths of a basket-trunk, turned innocently enough to see the case smoking at his elbow, dropped his cigar into some blouses, let out the screech of a maniac and threw himself face downward upon the floor. Somebody cried: ‘Women and children first!’ And, the supreme moment having arrived, I – I had the brain-wave.

“I stepped to the case and, with most horrible oaths, flung my hat upon the ground, smote upon the counter with my fist and started to rave like a fanatic. I made the most awful scene. I roared out that it was my box, and that it and its contents were irretrievably ruined. Gradually curiosity displaced alarm, and people began to return. I yelled and stamped more than ever. I denounced the French railways, I demanded the stationmaster, I swore I’d have damages, I tore off the cords, I lifted the lid, I alternately sneezed and raged, and, finally, I took out my tunic and shook it savagely. In vain the excisemen insisted that it was not their business. I cursed them bitterly, jerked an ounce of pepper out of a pair of brogues, and replied that they were responsible…

“It was after I had shaken my second pair of slacks that the officials, with streaming eyes, began to beseech me to unpack the case no further. If only they’d known, I didn’t need much inducing. I could see the shape of a cigarette-box under one of my shirts. Of course I argued a bit, for the look of the thing, but eventually I allowed myself to be persuaded and shoved the kit back. Finally they scrawled all over the lid with pieces of chalk, and, vowing the most hideous vengeance and invoking the British Ambassador, I stalked in the wake of my box out of the station.

“I was through.

“I had my dinner in bed. I think I deserved it. Still, I suppose it was indiscreet to have ordered lobster
â la Newburg
. I have slept better. I
was
sleeping better at half-past eight the next morning, when a waiter entered to say that
there was an official to see me from the Gare du Nord…

“Believing it to be another dream, I turned over and shut my eyes. The waiter approached and, touching me on the arm, repeated his ghastly communication. With a frightful effort I explained that I had the ague and could see nobody for some days. Mercifully he retired, and for a little space I lay in a sort of trance. After a bit I began to wonder what, in the name of Heaven, I was to do. I was afraid to get up, and I was afraid to stay in bed. I was afraid to stop in the hotel, and I was terrified of meeting the official downstairs. I was afraid to leave the case there, and I was still more afraid to take it away. I was getting hungry, and I was afraid to ring for breakfast. It was a positively poisonous position. Finally, after a lot of thought, I got up, bolted the door, unpacked the blasted box and shoved all the tobacco in the drawers of the wardrobe. Luckily there was a key. The kit I disposed naturally enough. Then I had a bath and dressed.

“As I was fastening my collar, the telephone went. It was the
Gare du Nord
. I jammed the receiver back.

“As I passed through the hall, a clerk dashed after me ‘The
Gare du Nord
,’ he said, ‘were insisting upon seeing me about a case of mine.’ I replied that I was busy all day, and could see nobody before six o’clock. I didn’t mention that my train went at five. It was as well I didn’t argue, for, as I left the hotel, a station official entered. I leapt into a taxi and told the driver to go to
Notre Dame
. Not that I felt like Church, but it was the first place I could think of. Somebody shouted after me, but – well, you know how they drive in Paris. I stopped round the second corner, discharged the taxi, and walked to a restaurant. By rights, I should have been ravenous. As it was, the food stuck in my throat. A bottle of limejuice, however, pulled me together. After luncheon I went to a cinema – I had to do something. Besides, the darkness attracted me… I fancy I dozed for a bit. Anyway, the first thing I remember was a couple of men being arrested in the lounge of a hotel. It was most realistic. What was more, the clerk who had run after me in the morning and the clerk on the screen might have been twins… I imagine that my hair rose upon my head, and for the second time it seemed certain that I had mislaid my paunch.

“I got out of the place somehow, to find that it was snowing. For the next hour I drove up and down the
Champs Elysées
. I only hope the driver enjoyed it more than I did. At last, when pneumonia seemed very near, I told him to drive to the hotel.

“I fairly whipped through the hall and into the lift. As this ascended, a page arrived at the gate and spoke upward. I didn’t hear what he said.

“When I was in a hot bath, the telephone went. I let the swine ring. Finally somebody came and knocked at the door. Of my wisdom I hadn’t bolted it, so, after waiting a little, they entered. I lay in the bath like the dead. After a good look round, they went away…

“By twenty past four I’d dressed, and repacked the case. I rang for a porter, told him to shove it on a taxi, and descended to settle my bill. Mercifully, the clerk who had stopped me in the morning was off duty. I could have squealed with delight. I paid my reckoning, tipped about eight people I’d never seen before, and climbed into the cab. Ten minutes later I was at the
Quai d’Orsay.

“By the time I was in the
wagon lit
it was ten minutes to five…

“I sank down upon the seat in silent gratitude. The comfortable glow of salvation began to steal over my limbs. I looked benevolently about me. I reflected that, after all, the last thirty hours of my life had been rich with valuable experience. Smilingly I decided not to regret them. When I thought of the scene in the baggage-room, I actually laughed. Then the conductor put his head in at the door and said that there was somebody to see me from the
Gare du Nord
.”

Berry suspended his recital and buried his face in his hands.

“I shall never be the same again,” he said brokenly. “Never again. Up to then I had a chance – a sporting chance of recovery. At that moment it snapped. In a blinding flash I saw what a fool I’d been. If I’d only stayed on the platform, if I’d only gone into the restaurant car, if I’d only locked myself in a lavatory till the train had started, I should have been all right. As it was, I was caught – bending.

“It was the official I’d seen in the morning all right. After a preliminary flurry of ejaculation, he locked the door behind him and began to talk… Don’t ask me what he said, because I didn’t hear. When the rope’s round your neck, you’re apt to miss the subtleties of the hangman’s charge. After a time I realised that he was asking me a question. I stared at him dully and shook my head. With a gesture of despair, he glanced at his watch.

“‘
Monsieur
,’ he said, ‘the train departs. I have sought you all day. The superintendent has told me to speak with you at all costs – to beg that you will lodge no complaint. He is desolated that your baggage was injured. It is a misfortune frightful. He cannot think how it has occurred. But to complain – no. I will tell
Monsieur
the truth. Twice in the last half-year an English officer’s baggage has gone astray. But one more complaint from your Embassy, and the superintendent will be replaced. And in ten short days,
Monsieur
, he will have won his pension… Ah,
Monsieur
, be merciful.’

“I was merciful.

“I waved the fellow away and swore haltingly that I would say nothing. We mingled a few tears, and he got out as the train was moving…

“And there you are. I’d got my reprieve. Everything in the garden was lovely. But I couldn’t enjoy it. My spirits failed to respond.” He took the Sealyham’s head between his hands and gazed into his eyes.

“O Nobwell, Nobwell!

Had I but seen the fool at half past eight

As he desired, he would not in the train

Have put the wind up me so hellishly.”

There was a moment’s silence.

Then Jonah stepped to my brother-in-law and clapped him on the back.

“Brother,” he said, “I take my hat off. I tell you frankly I couldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have claimed that case at Paris for a thousand pounds.”

Clamorously we endorsed his approval.

By way of acknowledgment the hero groaned.

“What you want,” said I, “is a good night’s rest. By midday tomorrow you’ll be touching the ground in spots.”

“I shan’t be touching it at all,” said Berry. “If it’s nice and warm, I shall have a Bath chair, which you and Jonah will propel at a convenient pace. Nobby will sit at my feet as a hostage against your careless negotiation of gradients.” He drew a key from his pocket and pitched it on to a table. “I fancy,” he added, “I heard them put the case on the landing: and as I propose, decorative though it is, to remove my beard, perhaps one of you wasters will fetch me a cigarette.”

There was a rush for the door.

True enough, the uniform-case was outside.

Jonah and I had its cords off in twenty seconds.

One hinge was broken and some khaki was protruding.

Adèle thrust the key into the lock. This was too stiff for her fingers, so after a desperate struggle, she let me have at the wards…

After an exhausting two minutes we sent for a cold-chisel…

As the lock yielded, Berry appeared upon the scene. For a moment he stared at us. Then – “But why not gun-cotton?” he inquired. “That’s the stuff to open a broken box with, if you don’t like the look of the key. You know, you’re thwarting me. And don’t try to turn the lid back, because there aren’t any hin—”

The sentence was never finished.

As I lifted the lid, my brother-in-law fell upon his knees. With trembling hands he plucked at a Jaeger rug, reposing, carefully folded, upon the top of some underclothes. Then he threw back his head and took himself by the throat.

“Goats and monkeys!” he shrieked. “
It’s somebody else’s case!
”