 Chapter 5, Part 2 of Something New. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Something New by P.G. Woodhouse. Chapter 5, Part 2. Butlers as a class seem to grow less and less like anything human in proportion to the magnificence of their surroundings. There is a type of butler employed in the comparatively modest homes of small country gentlemen who is practically a man and a brother, who hobnobbs with the local tradesmen, sings a good comic song at the village inn, and in times of crisis will even turn to and work the pump when the water supply suddenly fails. The greater the house, the more it is the butler diverged from this type. Blanding's castle was one of the more important of England's showplaces, and beach, accordingly, had acquired a dignified inertia that almost qualified him for inclusion in the vegetable kingdom. He moved when he moved at all, slowly. He distilled speech with the air of one measuring out drops of some precious drug. His heavy-littered eyes had the fixed expression of a statue's. With an almost imperceptible wave of a fat white hand, he conveyed to Ash that he desired him to sit down. With a stately movement of his other hand, he picked up a kettle which simmered on the hob. With an inclination of his head, he called Ash's attention to a decanter on the table. In another moment, Ash was sipping a whiskey toddy with the feeling that he had been privileged to assist at some mystic rite. Mr. Beach, posting himself before the fire and placing his hands behind his back, permitted speech to drip from him. I have not the advantage of your name, Mr.— Ash introduced himself. Beach acknowledged the information with a half bow. You must have had a cold ride, Mr. Marston. The wind is in the east. Ash said yes, the ride had been cold. When the wind is in the east, continued Mr. Beach, letting each syllable escape with apparent reluctance. I suffer from my feet. I beg your pardon. I suffer from my feet, repeated the butler, measuring out the drops. You are a young man, Mr. Marston. Probably you do not know what it is to suffer from your feet. He surveyed Ash, his whiskey toddy and the wall beyond him, with heavy littered inscrutability. Corns, he said. Ash said he was sorry. I suffer extremely from my feet. Not only corns, I have but recently recovered from an ingrowing toenail. I suffered greatly from my ingrowing toenail. I suffer from swollen joints. Ash regarded this martyr with increasing disfavor. It is the flaw in the character of many excessively healthy young men that though kind-hearted enough in most respects, they listen with a regrettable feeling of impatience to the confessions of those less happily situated as regards the ills of the flesh. Rightly or wrongly they hold that these statements should be reserved for the ear of the medical profession and other and more general topics selected for conversation with laymen. I'm sorry, he said hastily. You must have had a bad time. Is there a large house party here just now? We are expecting, said Mr. Beach, a number of guests. We shall, in all probability, sit down thirty or more to dinner. A responsibility for you, said Ash, ingratiatingly, well pleased to be quit of the feet topic. Mr. Beach nodded. You are right, Mr. Marston. Few persons realize the responsibilities of a man in my position. Sometimes I can assure you it preys on my mind and I suffer from nervous headaches. Ash began to feel like a man trying to put out a fire, which as fast as he checks it at one point breaks out at another. Sometimes when I come off duty everything gets blurred. The outlines of objects grow indistinct and misty. I have to sit down in a chair. The pain is excruciating. But it helps you to forget the pain in your feet. No, no, I suffer from my feet simultaneously. Ash gave up the struggle. Tell me all about your feet, he said. And Mr. Beach told him all about his feet. The pleasantest functions must come to an end and the moment arrived when the final word on the subject of swollen joints was spoken. Ash, who had resigned himself to a permanent contemplation of the subject, could hardly believe he heard correctly when at the end of some ten minutes his companion changed conversation. You have been with Mr. Peters some time, Mr. Marston? Eh, oh, oh no, only since last Wednesday. Indeed, might I inquire whom you assisted before that? For a moment, Ash did what he would not have believed himself capable of doing. Regretted that the topic of feet was no longer under discussion. The question placed him in an awkward position. If he lied and credited himself with a lengthy experience as a valet, he risked exposing himself. If he told the truth and confessed that this was his maiden effort in the capacity of gentlemen's gentlemen, what would the butler think? There were objections to each course, but to tell the truth was the easier of the two, so he told it. Your first situation, said Mr. Beach? Indeed, I was doing something else before I met Mr. Peters, said Ash. Mr. Beach was too well-bred to be inquisitive, but his eyebrows were not. Ah, he said. Question mark, cried his eyebrows. Question mark, question mark, question mark. Ash ignored the eyebrows. Something different, he said. There was an awkward silence. Ash appreciated its awkwardness. He was conscious of a grievance against Mr. Peters. Why could not Mr. Peters have brought him down here as his secretary? To be sure, he had advanced some objection to that course in their conversation at the offices of main price, main price and bull, but merely a silly far-fetched objection. He wished he had had the sense to fight the point while there was time, but at the moment when they were arranging plans, he had been rather tickled by the thought of becoming a valet. The notion had a pleasing musical comedy touch about it. Why had he not foreseen the complications that must ensue? He could tell by the look on his face that this confounded butler was waiting for him to give a full explanation. What would he think if he would have held it? He would probably suppose that Ash had been in prison. Well, there was nothing to be done about it. If Beech was suspicious, he must remain suspicious. Fortunately, the suspicions of a butler do not matter much. Mr. Beech's eyebrows were still mutely urging him to reveal all, but Ash directed his gaze at that portion of the room which Mr. Beech did not fill. He would be hanged if he was going to let himself be hypnotized by a pair of eyebrows into incriminating himself. He glared stolidly at the pattern of the wallpaper, which represented a number of birds of an unknown species seated on a corresponding number of exotic shrubs. The silence was growing oppressive. Somebody had to break it soon, and as Mr. Beech was still confining himself to the language of the eyebrow and apparently intended to fight it out on that line if it took all summer, Ash himself broke it. It seemed to him, as he reconstructed the scene in bed that night, that Providence must have suggested the subject of Mr. Peters' indigestion. For the mere mention of his employer's sufferings acted like magic on the butler. I might have had better luck while I was looking for a place, said Ash. I dare say you know how bad-tempered Mr. Peters is. He is dyspeptic. So, responded Mr. Beech, I have been informed. He brooded for a space. I, too, he proceeded, suffer from my stomach. I have a weak stomach. The lining of my stomach is not what I could wish the lining of my stomach to be. Tell me, said Ash, gratefully, leaning forward in an attitude of attention, all about the lining of your stomach. It was a quarter of an hour later when Mr. Beech was checked in his discourse for the chiming of the little clock on the mantelpiece. He turned round and gazed at it with surprise, not unmixed with displeasure. So late, he said, I shall have to be going about my duties. And you also, Mr. Marson, if I may make the suggestion, no doubt Mr. Peters will be wishing to have your assistance in preparing for dinner. If you go along the passage outside, you will come to the door that separates our portion of the house from the other. I must beg you to excuse me. I have to go to the cellar. Following his directions, Ash came after a walk of a few yards to a green bay's door, which, swinging at his push, gave him a view of what he correctly took to be the main hall of the castle. A wide, comfortable space ringed with settees and warmed by a log fire, burning in a mammoth fireplace. On the right, a broad staircase led to the upper regions. It was at this point that Ash realized the incompleteness of Mr. Beach's directions. Doubtless, the broad staircase would take him to the floor on which were the bedrooms, but how was he to ascertain, without the tedious process of knocking and inquiring at each door, which was the one assigned to Mr. Peters? It was too late to go back and ask the butler for further guidance. Already, he was on his way to the cellar in quest of the evening's wine. As he stood irresolute, a door across the hall opened, and a man of his own age came out. Through the doorway, which the young man held open for an instant while he answered a question from somebody within, Ash had a glimpse of glass-topped cases. Could this be the museum, his goal? The next moment, the door, opening a few inches more, revealed the outlying portions of an Egyptian mummy and brought certainty. It flashed across Ash's mind that the sooner he explored the museum and located Mr. Peters' scare of the better, he decided to ask Beach to take him there as soon as he had leisure. Meantime, the young man had closed the museum door and was crossing the hall. He was a wiry-haired, severe-looking young man with a sharp nose and eyes that gleamed through rimless spectacles. None other, in fact, than Lord Emsworth's private secretary, the efficient Baxter. Ash hailed him. I say, old man, would you mind telling me how I get to Mr. Peters' room? I've lost my bearings. He did not reflect that this was hardly the way in which valets in the best society addressed their superiors. That is the worst of adopting what might be called a character part. One can manage the business well enough. It is the dialogue that provides the pitfalls. Mr. Baxter would have accorded a hearty agreement to the statement that this was not the way in which a valet should have spoken to him. But at the moment, he was not aware that Ash was a valet. From his easy mode of address, he assumed that he was one of the numerous guests who had been arriving at the castle all day. As he had asked for Mr. Peters, he fancied that Ash must be the honorable Freddie's American friend, George Emerson, whom he had not yet met. Consequently, he replied with much cordiality, that Mr. Peters' room was the second at the left on the second floor. He said Ash could not miss it. Ash said he was much obliged. Awfully good of you, said Ash. Not at all, said Mr. Baxter. You lose your way in a place like this, said Ash. You certainly do, said Mr. Baxter. Ash went on his upward path and in a few moments was knocking at the door indicated, and sure enough it was Mr. Peters' voice that invited him to enter. Mr. Peters, partially arrayed in the correct garb for gentlemen about to dine, was standing in front of the mirror, wrestling with his evening tie. As Ash entered, he removed his fingers and anxiously examined his handiwork. It proved unsatisfactory. With a yelp and an oath, he tore the offending linen from his neck. Damn the thing! It was plain to Ash that his employer was in no sunny mood. There were a few things less calculated to engender sonniness in a naturally bad tempered man than a dress tie that will not let itself be pulled and twisted into the right shape. Even when things went well, Mr. Peters hated dressing for dinner. Words cannot describe his feelings when they went wrong. There is something to be said in excuse for this impatience. It is a hollow mockery to be obliged to deck one's person as for a feast when that feast is to consist of a little asparagus and a few nuts. Mr. Peters' eye met Ash's in the mirror. Oh, it's you, is it? Come in then. Don't stand staring. Close that door. Quick, hustle. Don't scrape your feet on the floor. Try to look intelligent. Don't gait. Where have you been all this while? Why didn't you come before? Can you tie a tie? All right then, do it. Somewhat calmed by the snow-white butterfly-shaped creation that grew under Ash's fingers, he permitted himself to be helped into his coat. He picked up the remnant of a black cigar from the dressing table and relid it. I've been thinking about you, he said. Yes, said Ash. Have you located the scarab yet? No. What the devil have you been doing with yourself then? You've had time to color it a dozen times. I have been talking to the butler. What the devil do you waste time talking to butlers for? I suppose you haven't even located the museum yet. Yes, I've done that. Oh, you have, have you? Well, that's something. And how do you propose setting about the job? The best plan would be to go there very late at night. Well, you didn't propose to stroll in in the afternoon, did you? How are you going to find the scarab when you do get in? Ash had not thought of that. The deeper he went into this business, the more things there seemed to be in it, of which he had not thought. I don't know, he confessed. You don't know? Tell me, young man, are you considered pretty bright as Englishmen go? I am not English. I was born near Boston. Oh, you were, were you? You blank, bone-headed, bean-eating boob, cried Mr. Peters, frothing over quite unexpectedly and waving his arms in a sudden burst of fury. Then if you are an American, why don't you show a little more enterprise? Why don't you put something over? Why do you loaf about the place as though you were supposed to be an ornament? I want results and I want them quick. I'll tell you how you can recognize Miss Scarab when you get into the museum. That shameless old green goods man who sneaked it from me has had the gall, the nerve to put it all by itself with a notice as big as a circus poster alongside of it saying that it is the Cheops of the Fourth Dynasty presented, Mr. Peters choked, presented by J. Preston Peters Esquire. That's how you're going to recognize it. Ash did not laugh, but he nearly dislocated a rib in his effort to abstain from doing so. It seemed to him that this act on Lord Emsworth's part effectually disposed of the theory that Britons have no sense of humor to rob a man of his choicest possession and then thank him publicly for letting you have it appealed to Ash as excellent comedy. The thing isn't even in a glass case continued Mr. Peters. It's lying on an open tray on top of a cabinet of Roman coins. Anybody who was left alone for two minutes in the place could take it. It's criminal carelessness to leave a valuable scare of a bout like that. If Lord Jesse James was going to steal my Cheops he might at least have had the decency to treat it as though it was worth something but it makes it easier for me to get it, said Ash consolingly. It's got to be made easy if you were to get it, snapped Mr. Peters. Here's another thing. You say you're going to try for it late at night. Well what are you going to do if anyone catches you prowling round and considered that? No. You would have to say something, wouldn't you? You wouldn't chat about the weather, would you? You wouldn't discuss the latest play. You would have to think up some mighty good reason for being out of bed at that time, wouldn't you? I suppose so. Oh, you do admit that, do you? Well, what you would say is this. You would explain that I had run for you to come and read me to sleep. You understand? You think that would be this factory explanation of my being in the museum? Idiot! I don't mean that you're to say it if you're caught actually in the museum. If you're caught in the museum the best thing you can do is say nothing and hope that the judge will let you off light because it's your first offense. You're to say it if you're found wandering about on your way there. It sounds thin to me, does it? Well let me tell you that it isn't so thin as you suppose for it's what you will actually have to do most nights. Two nights out of three I have to be read to sleep. My indigestion gives me insomnia. As though to push this fact home Mr. Peters suddenly bent double. Oof! He said, wow! He removed the cigar from his mouth and inserted a digestive tabloid. The lining of my stomach is all wrong, he added. It is curious how trivial are the immediate causes that produce revolutions. If Mr. Peters had worded his complaint differently Ash would in all probability have mourned it without active protest. He had been growing more and more annoyed with this little person who buzzed and barked and bit at him yet the idea of definite revolt had not occurred to him. But his sufferings at the hands of Beech the Butler had reduced him to a state where he could endure no further mention of stomachic linings. There comes a time when our capacity for listening to detailed data and findings of other people's stomachs is exhausted. He looked at Mr. Peters sternly. He had ceased to be intimidated by the fiery little man and regarded him simply as a hypochondriac who needed to be told a few useful facts. How do you expect not to have indigestion? You take no exercise and you smoke all day long. The novel sensation of being criticized and by a beardless youth at that held Mr. Peters silent. The man who was considered convulsive, Liberty did not speak. Ash and his pet subject became eloquent. In his opinion, dyspeptics cumbered the earth. To his mind, they had the choice between health and sickness and they deliberately chose the latter. Your sort of man makes me angry. I know your type inside out. You overwork and shirk exercise and let your temper run away with you and smoke strong cigars on an empty stomach and when you get indigestion you look on yourself as a martyr. Nourish a perpetual grouch and make the lives of everybody you meet miserable. If you would put yourself into my hands for a month I would have you eating bricks and thriving on them. Up in the morning Larson exercises cold bath of brisk rub down sharp walk. Who the devil asked your opinion you impertinent young hound inquired Mr. Peters. Don't interrupt confound you shouted Ash. Now you have made me forget what I was going to say. There was a tense silence that Mr. Peters began to speak. You infernal impudent don't talk to me like that. I'll talk to you just Ash took a step toward the door. Very well then he said I'll quit I'm through. You can get somebody else to do this job of yours for you. The sudden sagging of Mr. Peters' jaw the look of consternation that flashed on his face when he held Ash he had found the right weapon that the game was in his hands. He continued with a feeling of confidence. If I had known what being your valet involved I wouldn't have undertaken the thing for a hundred thousand dollars. Just because you had some idiotic prejudice against letting me come down here as your secretary which would have been the simple and obvious thing I find myself in a position where at any moment I may be publicly rebuked by the butler and have the head still room at me as though I were something the cat had brought in. His voice trembled with self pity. Do you realize a fraction of the awful things you have let me in for? How on earth am I to remember whether I go in before the chef or after the third footman. I shan't have a peaceful minute while I'm in this place. I've got to sit and listen by the hour to a bore of a butler who seems to be a sort of walking hospital. I've got to steer my way through a complicated system of etiquette. And on top of all that, you have the nerve, the insolence to imagine that you can use me as a punching bag to work your bad temper off. You have the immortal rind to suppose that I will stand for being nagged and bullied by you whenever your suicidal way of living brings on an attack of indigestion. You have the supreme gall to fancy that you can talk as you please to me. Very well I've had enough of it, I resign. If you want the scare of a viewer covered let somebody else do it. I've retired from business. He took another step toward the door. A shaking hand clutched at his sleeve. My boy, my dear boy, be reasonable. Ash was intoxicated with his own oratory. The sensation of bully-ragging a genuine millionaire was new and exhilarating. He expanded his chest and spread his feet like a colossus. That's all very well, he said, entangling himself from the hand. You can't get out of it like that. We have got to come to an understanding. The point is that if I am to be subjected to your your senile malevolence every time you have a twinge of indigestion no amount of money could pay me to stop on. My dear boy it shall not occur again. I was hasty. Mr. Peters with agitated fingers re-let the stump of his cigar. Throw away that cigar. My boy, throw it away. Throw it away. You say you were hasty. Of course you were hasty. And as long as you abuse your digestion you will go on being hasty. I want something better than apologies. If I am to stop here we must get to the root of things. You must put yourself in my hands as though I were your doctor. No more cigars. Every morning regular exercises. No, no, very well. No, stop, stop. What sort of exercises? I'll show you tomorrow morning. Brisk walks. I hate walking. Cold baths. No, no, very well. No, stop. Cold baths would kill me at my age. It would put new life into you. Do you consent to the cold baths? No, very well. Yes, yes, yes. You promise? Yes, yes. All right then. The distant sound of the dinner gong floated in. We settled that just in time, said Ash. Mr. Peters regarded him fixedly. Young man, he said slowly, if after all this you fail to recover my chiaps for me, I'll, I'll buy George I'll skin you. Don't talk like that, said Ash. That's another thing you have got to remember. If my treatment is to be successful, you must not let yourself think in that way. You must exercise self-control mentally. You must think beautiful thoughts. The idea of skinning you is a beautiful thought, said Mr. Peters wistfully. In order that their gaiety might not be diminished and the food turned to ashes in their mouths by the absence from the festive board of Mr. Beach, it was the custom for the upper servants at Blandings to postpone the start of their evening meal until dinner was nearly over above stairs. This enabled the butler to take his place at the head of the table without fear of disruption, except for the few moments when coffee was being served. Every night, shortly before half past eight, at which our Mr. Beach felt that he might safely withdraw from the dining room and leave Lord Emsworth and his guests to the care of Miradou, the underbutler, and James and Alfred the footman, returning only for a few minutes to lend tone and distinction to the distribution of cigars and liqueurs, those whose rank entitled them to do so would lead their way to the housekeeper's room to pass into sultry conversation the interval before Mr. Beach should arrive and a kitchen maid with the appearance of one who has been straining at the leash and has at last managed to get free opened the door with the announcement Mr. Beach, if you please, dinner is served on which Mr. Beach, extending a crooked elbow toward the housekeeper would say Mrs. Tumlow and lead the way high and disposedly down the passage followed in order of rank by the rest of the company in couples to the stewards room for blandings was not one of those houses, or shall we say hovels, where the upper servants are expected not only to feed but to congregate before feeding in the stewards room under the auspices of Mr. Beach and of Mrs. Tumlow who saw eye to eye with him in these matters things were done properly at the castle with the correct solemnity to Mr. Beach and Mrs. Tumlow the suggestion that they and their peers should gather together in the same room in which they were to dine would have been as repellent as an announcement from Lady Ann Warblington the chattelaine that the house party would eat in the drawing room when Ash, returning from his interview with Mr. Peters was intercepted by a respectful small boy and conducted to the housekeeper's room he was conscious of the sensation of shrinking inferiority akin to his emotions on his first day at school the room was full and apparently on very cordial terms with itself everybody seemed to know everybody and conversation was proceeding in a manner reminiscent of an old home week as a matter of fact the house party at Blandings being in the main and gathering together of the Emsworth clan by way of honor and as a means for Mr. Peters and his daughter the bride of the house to be most of the occupants of the housekeeper's room were old acquaintances and were renewing interrupted friendships at the top of their voices a lull followed Ash's arrival and all eyes to his great discomfort were turned in his direction his embarrassment was relieved by Mrs. Tumlow who advanced to do the honors of Mrs. Tumlow little need be attempted in the way of pen portraiture beyond the statement that she went as harmoniously with Mr. Beach as one of a pair of vases or one of a brace of pheasants goes with its fellow she had the same appearance of imminent apoplexy the same era belonging to some dignified and haughty branch of the vegetable kingdom Mr. Marson welcome to Blandings castle Ash had been waiting for somebody to say this and had been a little surprised that Mr. Beach had not done so he was also surprised that the housekeeper's ready recognition of his identity until he saw Joan in the throng and deduced that she must have been the source of information he envied Joan in some amazing way she contrived to look not out of place in this gathering he himself he felt had imposters stamped in large characters all over him Mrs. Tumlow began to make the introductions a long and tedious process which she performed relentlessly without haste and without scamping her work with each member of the aristocracy of his new profession Ash shook hands and on each member he smiled until his facial and dorsal muscles were like to crack under the strain it was amazing that so many high-class domestics could be collected into one moderate sized room Ms. Simpson you know Mr. Tumlow and Ash was about to deny the charge when he perceived that Joan was the individual referred to Mr. Judson Mr. Marston Mr. Judson is the honorable Fredrick's gentleman you have not the pleasure of our Freddy's acquaintance as yet I take it Mr. Marston observed Mr. Judson genially a smooth-faced lazy looking young man Freddy repays inspection Mr. Marston permit me to introduce you to Mr. Ferris Lord Stockheath's gentleman Mr. Ferris a dark cynical man with a high forehead shook Ash by the hand happy to meet you Mr. Marston Ms. Willoughby this is Mr. Marston who will take you into dinner Ms. Willoughby is Lady Mildred Mant's lady as of course you are aware Lady Mildred our eldest daughter married Colonel Horace Mant of the Scots Guards was not aware and he was rather surprised that Mrs. Tremolo should have a daughter whose name was Lady Mildred but reason coming to his rescue suggested that by hour she meant the offspring of the Earl of Emsworth in his late Countess Ms. Willoughby was a light-hearted damsel with a smiling face and chestnut hair done low over her forehead since etiquette forbade that he should take Joan into dinner Ash was glad that at least a slightly pleasant substitute had been provided he had just been introduced to an appallingly statuesque lady of the name of Chester Lady Ann Warblington's own maid and his somewhat hazy recollections of Joan's lecture on below Stairs precedence had left him with the impression that this was his destined partner he had frankly quailed at the prospect of being linked to so much aristocratic hot hair End of Chapter 5 Part 2 Chapter 5 Part 3 of Something New This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Something New by P.G. Woodhouse Chapter 5 Part 3 When the final introduction had been made conversation broke out again it dealt almost exclusively as far as Ash could follow it with the idiosyncrasies of the employers of those present He took it that this happened down the entire social scale below Stairs Probably the lower servants in the servants' hall discussed the upper servants in the room and the still lower servants in the housemaid's sitting room discussed their superiors of the servants' hall and the still room gossiped about the housemaid's sitting room He wondered which was the bottom circle and came to the conclusion that it was probably represented by the small respectful boy who had acted as his guide a short while before This boy, having nobody to discuss anybody with, presumably sat in solitary meditation brooding on the odd job man He thought of mentioning this theory to Miss Willoughby but decided that it was too abstruse for her and contented himself with speaking of some of the plays he had seen before leaving London Miss Willoughby was an enthusiast on the drama, in Colonel Mant's military duties keeping him much in town she had had wide opportunities of indulging her tastes Miss Willoughby did not like the country She thought it dull Don't you think the country dull, Mr. Marston? I shan't find it dull here, said Ash and he was surprised to discover through the medium of a pleased giggle that he was considered to have perpetrated a compliment Mr. Beech appeared in due season a little distraight as becomes a man who has just been engaged on important and responsible duties Alfred spilled the hawk Ash heard him announced to Mrs. Tweenlow in a bitter undertone within half an inch of his lordship's arm he spilled it Mrs. Tweenlow murmured condolences Mr. Beech's said expression was of one who was wondering how long the strain of existence can be supported if you please dinner is served the butler crushed down sad thoughts and crooked his elbow Mrs. Tweenlow Ash miscalculating degrees of rank in spite of all his caution was within a step of leaving the room out of his proper turn but the startled pressure of Miss Willoughby's hand on his arm warned him in time he stopped to allow the statuette Miss Chester to sail out under escort of a whizzin' little man with a horseshoe pin in his tie whose name in company with nearly all the others that had been spoken to him since he came into the room had escaped Ash's memory you were nearly making a bloomer said Miss Willoughby brightly you must be absent minded Mr. Marston like his lordship is Lord Emsworth absent minded Miss Willoughby laughed while he forgets his own name sometimes if it wasn't for Mr. Baxter goodness knows what would happen to him I don't think I know Mr. Baxter you will if you stay here long you can't get away from him if you're in the same house don't tell anyone I said so but he's the real master here his lordship's secretary he calls himself but he's really everything rolled into one like the man in the play Ash, searching in his dramatic memories for such a person in a play inquired whether Miss Willoughby meant Puba in the Mikado of which there had been a revival in London recently Miss Willoughby did mean Puba but nosy Parker is what I call him he minds everybody's business as well as his own the last of the procession trickled into the stewards room Mr. Beach said grace somewhat patronizingly the meal began you've seen Miss Peters of course Mr. Marston said Miss Willoughby resuming conversation with the soup Paddington oh you haven't been with Mr. Peters long then Ash began to wonder whether everybody he met was going to ask him this dangerous question only a day or so where were you before that Ash was conscious of a prickly sensation a little more of this and he might as well reveal his true mission at the castle and have done with it oh I was, that is to say how are you feeling after the journey Mr. Marston said a voice from the other side of the table and Ash looking up gratefully found Jones eyes looking into his with a curiously amused expression he was too grateful for the interruption to try to account for this he replied that he was feeling very well which was not the case Miss Willoughby's interest was diverted to a discussion of the defects of the various railroad systems of Great Britain at the head of the table Mr. Beach had started an intimate conversation with Mr. Ferris the valet of Lord Stockheath the Honorable Freddy's poor old Percy a cousin Ash had gathered of Aileen Peters husband to be the butler spoke in more measured tones even than usual for he was speaking of tragedy we were all extremely sorry Mr. Ferris to read of your misfortune Ash wondered what had been happening to Mr. Ferris yes Mr. Beach replied the valet it's a fact we made a pretty poor show he took a sip from his glass there was no concealing the fact I have never tried to conceal it that poor Percy is not right Miss Chester entered the conversation I couldn't see where the girl what's her name was so very pretty all the papers had pieces where it said she was attractive and what not but she didn't look anything special to me from her photograph in the mirror what his lordship could see in her the photo didn't quite do her justice Miss Chester I was present in court and I must admit she was svelte decidedly svelte and you must recollect that Percy from childhood up has always been a highly susceptible young nut I speak as one who knows him Mr. Beach turned to Joan we are speaking of the Stockheath breach of promise case Miss Simpson of which you doubtless read in the newspapers Mr. Stockheath is a nephew of ours I fancy his lordship was greatly shocked at the occurrence he was chimed in Mr. Judson from down the table I happen to overhear him speaking of it to young Freddie it was in the library on the morning when the judge made his final summing up and slipped it into Lord Stockheath so proper if ever anything of this sort happens to you you young scallow egg he says to Freddie Mr. Beach coughed it wasn't oh it's all right Mr. Beach we're all in the family here in a manner of speaking it wasn't as though I was telling it to a lot of outsiders I'm sure none of these ladies or gentlemen will let it go beyond this room the company murmured virtuous acquiescence he says to Freddie you young scallow egg if ever anything of this sort happens to you you can pack up and go off to Canada for I'll have nothing more to do with you or words to that effect and Freddie says oh dash it all governor you know what however short Mr. Judson's imitation of his master's voice may have fallen of histrionic perfection it pleased the company the room shook with mirth Mr. Judson is clever isn't he Mr. Marston whispered Miss Willoughby gazing with adoring eyes at the speaker Mr. Beach thought it expedient to deflect the conversation by the unwritten law of the room every individual had the right to speak as freely as he wished about his own personal employer but Judson in his opinion sometimes went a trifle too far tell me Mr. Ferris he said does his lordship seem to bear it well oh Percy is bearing it well enough asked noted as a curious fact that though the actual valet of any person under discussion spoke of him almost affectionately by his Christian name the rest of the company used the greatest ceremony and gave him his title with all respect Lord Stockheath was Percy to Mr. Ferris and the Honorable Frederick Threepwood was Freddie to Mr. Judson but to Ferris Mr. Judson's Freddie was the Honorable Frederick and to Judson Mr. Ferris Percy was Lord Stockheath it was rather a pleasant form of etiquette and struck ashes somehow vaguely futile Percy went on Mr. Ferris is bearing it like a little Britain the damage is not having come out of his pocket it's his old father who had to pay them that's taking it to heart you might say he's doing himself proud he says it's brought on his gout again and that's why he's gone to droiditch instead of coming here I dare say Percy isn't sorry it has been said Mr. Beach summing up a most unfortunate occurrence the modern tendency of the lower classes to get above themselves is becoming more marked every day the young female in this case was I understand a barmaid it is deplorable that our young men should allow themselves to get into such entanglements the wonder to me said the irrepressible Mr. Judson is that more of these young chaps don't get put through it his lordship wasn't so wide of the mark when he spoke like that to Freddie in the library that time it's a mercy young Freddie hasn't been up against it when we were in London Freddie and I he went on cutting through Mr. Beach's disapproving cough before what you might call the crash when his lordship cut off supplies and had him come back and live here Freddie was asking for it believe me fell in love with a girl in the chorus of one of the theaters used to send me to the stage door with notes and flowers every night for weeks as regular as clockwork what was her name it's on the tip of my tongue funny how you forget these things Freddie was pretty far gone I recollect once happening to be looking around his room in his absence coming on a poem he had written to her it was hot stuff very hot if that girl has kept those letters it's my belief we shall see Freddie following in Lord Stockheath's footsteps there was a hush of delighted horror around the table who said Miss Chester's escort with unction you don't say so Mr. Judson it wouldn't half make them look silly if the honorable Frederick was sued for breach just now with the wedding coming on there's no danger of that it was Joan's voice and she had spoken with such decision that she had the ear of the table immediately all eyes looked in her direction Ash was struck with her expression her eyes were shining as though she were angry and there was a flush on her face a phrase he had used in the train came back to him she looked like a princess in disguise what makes you say that Miss Simpson inquired Judson annoyed he had been at pains to make the company's flesh creep and it appeared to be Joan's aim to undo his work it seemed to ash that Joan made an effort of some sort as though she were pulling herself together and remembering where she was well, she said almost lamely I don't think it at all likely that he proposed marriage to this girl you never can tell, said Judson my impression is that Freddie did it's my belief that there's something on his mind these days before he went to London with his lordship the other day he was behaving very strange and since he came back it's my belief that he has been brooding and I happen to know he followed the affair of Lord Stock he's pretty closely for he clipped the clippings out of the paper I found them myself one day when I happened to be going through his things Beach cleared his throat his motive indicating that he was about to monopolize the conversation and in any case Miss Simpson he said solemnly with things come to the past they have come to and the juries drawn from the lower classes in the nasty mood therein it don't seem hardly necessary in these affairs for there to have been any definite promise of marriage well with all this socialism rampant they seem so happy at the idea of being able to do one of us an injury that they give heavy damages without it a few ardent expressions and that's enough for them you recollect the Havoc case and when young Lord Mount Anvil was sued what it comes to is that Anarchy is getting the upper hand and the lower classes are getting above themselves it's all these here cheap newspapers that does it they tempt the lower classes to get above themselves only this morning I had to speak severe to that young fellow James the footman he was a good young fellow once and did his work well and had a proper respect for people but now he's gone all to pieces and why? because six months ago he had the rheumatism and had the audacity to send his picture and a testimonial saying that it had cured him of awful agonies to walk in Shaw's supreme ointment and they printed it in half a dozen papers and it has been the ruin of James he has got above himself and don't care for nobody well all I can say is resumed Judson that I hope to goodness nothing won't happen to Freddie of that kind for it's not every girl that would have him there was a murmur of assent to this truth now your miss Peters said Judson tolerantly she seems a nice little thing she would be pleased to hear you say so said Joan Joan Valentine cried Judson bringing his hands down on the tablecloth with a bang I've just remembered it that was the name of the girl Freddie used to write the letters and poems to and that's who it is I've been trying all along to think you reminded me of Miss Simpson here's a living image of Freddie's Miss Joan Valentine Ash was not normally a young man of particularly ready wit but on this occasion it may have been that the shock of this revelation added to the fact that something must be done speedily if Joan's this composure was not to become obvious to all present quickened his intelligence Joan usually so sure of herself so ready of resource had gone temporarily to pieces she was quite white and her eyes met ashes with almost a hunted expression if the attention of the company was to be diverted something drastic must be done a mere verbal attempt to change the conversation would be useless inspiration descended on Ash in the days of his childhood inhaling Massachusetts he had played truant from Sunday school again and again in order to frequent the society of one Eddie Waffles the official bad boy of the locality it was not so much Eddie's charm of conversation which had attracted him though that had been great as the fact that Eddie among his other accomplishments could give a life like imitation of two cats sitting in a backyard and Ash felt that he could never be happy until he had acquired this gift from the master in course of time he had done so it might be that his absences from Sunday school in the cause of art had left him in later years a trifle shaky on the subject of the kings of Judah but his hard-won accomplishment had made him in request at every smoking concert at Oxford and it saved the situation now have you ever heard two cats fighting in a backyard he inquired casually of his neighbor Miss Willoughby the next moment the performance was in full swing young master Waffles who had devoted considerable study to his subject had conceived the combat of his imaginary cats in a broad almost homeric vein the unpleasantness opened with a low gurgling sound answered by another a shade louder and possibly more quarrelous a momentary silence was followed by a long drawn note like rising wind cut off abruptly and succeeded by a grumbling mutter the response to this was a couple of sharp howls both parties to the contest then indulged in a discontented whining growing louder and louder until the air was full of electric menace and then after another sharp silence came war noisy and overwhelming standing at master Waffles side you could follow almost every movement of that intricate fray and mark how now one and now the other of the battlers gained a short-lived advantage it was a great fight shrewd blows were taken and given and in the eye of the imagination you could see the air thick with flying fur louder and louder grew the din and then at its height it ceased in one crescendo of tumult and all was still saved for a faint angry moaning such was the cat fight of master Eddie Waffles and Ash though falling short of the master as a pupil must rendered it faithfully and with energy to say that the attention of the company was diverted from Mr. Judson and his remarks by the extraordinary noises which proceeded from Ash's lips would be to offer a mere shadowy suggestion of the sensation caused by his efforts at first stunned surprise then consternation greeted him beach the butler was staring as one watching a miracle nearer apparently to apoplexy than ever on the faces of the others every shade of emotion was to be seen that this should be happening in the stewards room at Blanding's castle was scarcely less amazing than if it had taken place in a cathedral the upper servants rigid in their each other like Cortez soldiers with wild surmise the last faint moon of feline defiance died away and silence fell on the room Ash turned to Ms. Willoughby just like that he said I was telling Ms. Willoughby he added apologetically to Mrs. Twemlow about the cats in London they were a great trial for perhaps three seconds his social reputation swayed to and fro in the balance while the company pondered on what he had done it was new but it was humorous or was it vulgar there is nothing the English upper servants so abhor as vulgarity that was what the stewards room was trying to make up its mind about then Ms. Willoughby threw her shapely head back and the squeal of her laughter smote the ceiling and at that the company made its decision everybody laughed everybody urged Ash to give an encore everybody was his friend and admirer everybody but beached the butler beached the butler was shocked to his very core his heavy-lidded eyes rested on Ash with disapproval it seemed to beach the butler that this young man Marson had got above himself Ash found Joan at his side dinner was over and the diners were making for the housekeeper's room thank you Mr. Marson that was very good of you and very clever her eyes twinkled but what a terrible chance you took you have made yourself a popular success but you might just as easily have become a social outcast as it is I am afraid Mr. Beach did not approve I'm afraid he didn't in a minute or so I'm going to fawn on him and make all well Joan lowered her voice it was quite true what that odious little man said Freddie Threep would did write me letters of course I destroyed them long ago but weren't you running the risk in coming here that he might recognize you wouldn't that make it rather unpleasant for you I never met him you see he only wrote to me when he came to the station to meet us this evening he looked startled to see me so I suppose he remembers my appearance but Aileen will have told him that my name is Simpson that fellow Judson said he was brooding I think you ought to put him out of his misery Mr. Judson must have been letting his imagination run away with him he is out of his misery he sent a horrid fat man named Jones to see me in London about the letters and I told him I had destroyed them he must have let him know that by this time I see they went into the housekeeper's room Mr. Beach was standing before the fire Ash went up to him in an easy matter to mollify Mr. Beach Ash tried the most tempting topics he mentioned swollen feet he dangled the lining of Mr. Beach's stomach temptingly before his eyes but the butler was not to be softened only when Ash turned the conversation to the subject of the museum did a flicker of animation stir him Mr. Beach was fond and proud of the Blandings Castle Museum it had been the means of getting him to be a president for the first and only time in his life a year before a representative of the intelligentser and echo from the neighboring town of Blatchford had come to visit the castle on behalf of his paper and he had begun one section of his article with the words under the auspices of Mr. Beach my genial Ciceroan I then visited his lordship's museum Mr. Beach treasured the clipping in a special writing desk he responded almost amiably to Ash's questions yes he had seen the scarab he pronounced it S.K. Rub which Mr. Peters had presented to his lordship he understood that his lordship thought very highly of Mr. Peters's S.K. Rub he had overheard Mr. Baxter telling his lordship that it was extremely valuable Mr. Beach said Ash I wonder whether you would take me to see Lord Emsworth's museum Mr. Beach regarded him heavily I shall be pleased to take you to see his lordship's museum he replied one can attribute only to the nervous mental condition following the interview he had had with Ash in his bedroom the rash act Mr. Peters attempted shortly after dinner Mr. Peters shortly after dinner was in a dangerous and reckless mood he had had a wretched time all through the meal the blanding's chef had extended himself to the dinner of the house party and had produced a succession of dishes which in happier days Mr. Peters would have devoured eagerly to be compelled by considerations of health to pass these by was enough to damp the liveliest optimist Mr. Peters had suffered terribly occasions of feasting and revelry like the present were for him so many battlefields on which greed fought with prudence all through dinner he brooded on Ash's defiance and the horrors which were to result from that defiance one of Mr. Peters most painful memories was of a two weeks visit he had once paid to Mr. Muldoon in his celebrated establishment at White Plains he had been persuaded to go there by a brother millionaire whom until then he had always regarded as a friend the memory of Mr. Muldoon's cold shower baths and brisk system of physical exercise still lingered the thought that under Ash's rule he was to go through privately very much what he had gone through in the company of a gang of other unfortunates at Muldoon's froze him with horror he knew those health cranks who believed that all mortal ailments could be cured by cold showers and brisk walks they were all alike and they nearly killed you his worst nightmare was the one where he dreamed he was back at Muldoon's leading his horse up that endless hill he would not stand it he would be hanged if he'd stand it he would defy Ash but if he defied Ash, Ash would go away and then whom could he find to recover his lost scarab Mr. Peters began to appreciate the true meaning of the phrase about the horns of a dilemma the horns of this dilemma occupied his attention until the end of the dinner he shifted uneasily from one to the other and back again he rose from the table in an overly overwrought condition of mind and then somehow in the course of the evening he found himself alone in the hall not a dozen feet from the unlocked museum door it was not immediately that he appreciated the significance of this fact he had come to the hall because its solitude suited his mood it was only after he had finished a cigar Ash could not stop his smoking after dinner that it suddenly flashed on him immediately at hand a solution of all his troubles a brief minute's resolute action and the scarab would be his again and the menace of Ash a thing of the past he glanced about him yes he was alone not once since the removal of the scarab had begun to exercise his mind had Mr. Peters contemplated for an instant the possibility of recovering it himself the prospect of the unpleasantness that would ensue had been enough to make him regard such an action the risk was too great to be considered for a moment but here he was in a position where the risk was negligible like Ash he had always visualized the recovery of his scarab as a thing of the small hours a daring act to be performed when sleep held a castle in its grip that an opportunity would be presented to him of walking in quite calmly and walking out again with the chieps in his pocket had never occurred to him as a possibility yet now this chance was presenting itself in all its simplicity and all he had to do was to grasp it the door of the museum was not even closed he could see from where he stood that it was a jar he moved cautiously in its direction not in a straight line as one going to a museum but circuitously as one strolling without a name from time to time he glanced over his shoulder reached the door hesitated and passed it he turned reached the door again and again passed it he stood for a moment darting his eyes about the hall then in a burst of resolution he dashed for the door and shot in like a rabbit at the same moment the efficient Baxter who from the shelter of a pillar on the gallery that ran around two thirds of the hall of interest for some minutes began to descend the stairs Rupert Baxter the Earl of Emsworth's indefatigable private secretary was one of those men whose chief characteristic is a vague suspicion of their fellow human beings he did not suspect them of this or that definite crime he simply suspected them he prowled through life as we are told the hosts of Midian prowled his powers in this respect were known at Blanding's castle the Earl of Emsworth said Baxter is invaluable positively invaluable the Honorable Freddy said a chap he can't take a step in this valley house without stumbling over that damn fellow Baxter the man's servant and the maid's servant within the gates like Miss Willoughby employing that crisp gift for characterization which is the property of the English lower orders described him as a nosy parker peering over the railing of the balcony and observing the curious movements of Mr. Peters who as a matter of fact while making up his mind to approach the door had been backing and filling about the hall in a quaint serpentine manner like a man trying to invent a new variety of the tango the efficient Baxter had found himself in some way why he did not know of what he could not say but in some nebulous way suspicious he had not definitely accused Mr. Peters in his mind of any specific tort or malfeasance he had merely felt that something fishy was toward he had a sixth sense in such matters but when Mr. Peters making up his mind leaped into the museum Baxter's suspicions lost their vagueness and became crystallized certainty descended on him like a bolt from the skies on oath before a notary the efficient Baxter would have declared that J. Preston Peters was about to try to perloin the scarab lest we should seem to be attributing two miraculous powers of intuition to Lord Emsworth's secretary it should be explained that the mystery which hung about that curio had exercised his mind not a little since his employer had given it to him to place in the museum he knew Lord Emsworth's power of forgetting and he did not believe that he was out of the transaction scarab maniacs like Mr. Peters did not give away specimens from their collections as presents but he had not divined the truth of what had happened in London the conclusion at which he had arrived was that Lord Emsworth had bought the scarab and had forgotten all about it to support this theory was the fact that the latter had taken his checkbook to London with him Baxter's long acquaintance with the Earl had left him with the conviction of saying what he might not do if left loose in London with a checkbook as to Mr. Peters motive for entering the museum that too seemed completely clear to the secretary he was a curio enthusiast himself and he had served collectors in a secretarial capacity and he knew both from experience and observation that strange madness which made any moment afflict the collector blotting out morality and the nice distinction between and to him as with a sponge he knew that collectors who would not steal a loaf if they were starving might and did fall before the temptation of a coveted curio he descended the stairs three at a time and entered the museum at the very instant when Mr. Peters' twitching fingers were about to close on his treasure he handled the delicate situation with eminent tact Mr. Peters at the sound of his step had executed a backward leap which was as good as a confession of guilt and his face was rigid with dismay but the efficient Baxter pretended not to notice these phenomena his manner when he spoke was easy and unembarrassed ah taking a look at our little collection Mr. Peters you will see that we have given the place of honor to your chiops it is certainly a fine specimen a wonderfully fine specimen Mr. Peters was recovering slowly Baxter talked on to give him time he spoke of Mott and Bavastus of Ammon and the Book of the Dead he directed the other's attention to the Roman coins he was touching on some aspects of the Princess Gillikippa of Mitanni in whom his hero could scarcely fail to be interested when the door opened and beach the butler came in accompanied by Ash in the bustle of the interruption Mr. Peters escaped glad to be elsewhere and questioning for the first time in his life the dictum that if you want a thing well done you must do it yourself I was not aware sir said beach the butler that you were in occupation of the museum I would not have intruded but this young man expressed a desire to examine the exhibits and I took the liberty of conducting him come in beach, come in said Baxter the light fell on Ash's face and he recognized him as the cheerful young man who had inquired the way to Mr. Peters room before dinner and who he had by this time discovered was not the honorable Freddy's friend George Emerson or indeed any other of the guests of the house he felt suspicious oh beach sir just a moment he drew the butler into the hall out of earshot beach who is that man Mr. Peters valet sir Mr. Peters valet yes sir has he been in service long asked Baxter remembering that a mere menial had addressed him as old man beach lowered his voice he and the efficient Baxter were old allies and it seemed right to beach to confide in him he has only just joined Mr. Peters sir and he has never been in service before he told me so himself and I was unable to elicit from him any information as to his antecedents his manners struck me sir as peculiar it crossed my mind to wonder whether Mr. Peters happened to be aware of this I should dislike to do any young man an injury but it might be anyone coming to a gentleman without a character like this young man Mr. Peters might have been deceived sir the efficient Baxter's manner became distraught his mind was working rapidly should he be informed sir eh who Mr. Peters sir in case he should have been deceived no no Mr. Peters knows his own business far from me be it to appear officious sir but Mr. Peters probably knows all about him tell me beach who wasn't suggested this visit to the museum did you it was at the young man's express desire that I conducted him sir the efficient Baxter returned to the museum without a word ash standing in the middle of the room was impressing the topography of the place on his memory he was unaware of the piercing stare of suspicion that was being directed at him from behind he did not see Baxter he was not even thinking of Baxter but Baxter was on the alert Baxter was on the warpath Baxter knew end of chapter 5 chapter 6 of something new this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org something new by PG Woodhouse chapter 6 among the compensations of advancing age is a wholesome pessimism which though it takes the fine edge off of whatever triumphs may come to us has the admirable effect of preventing fate from working off on us any of those gold bricks coins with strings attached and unhatched chickens at which ardent youth snatches with such enthusiasm to its subsequent disappointment as we emerge from the 20s we grow into a habit of mine that looks a scant at fate bearing gifts we miss perhaps the occasional prize but we also avoid leaping lightheartedly into traps Ash Marsden had yet to reach the age of tranquil mistrust and when fate seemed to be treating him kindly he was still young enough to accept such kindnesses on their face value and rejoice at them as he sat on his bed at the end of his first night in castle blandings he was conscious to a remarkable degree that fortune was treating him well he had survived not merely without discredit but with positive triumph the initiatory plunge into the etiquette maelstrom of life below stairs so far from doing the wrong thing and drawing down on himself the just scorn of the stewards room he had been the life and soul of the party even if tomorrow in an absent minded fit he should anticipate the groom of the chambers in the march to the table he would be forgiven for the humorist has his privileges so much for that but that was only a part of fortune's kindnesses to have discovered on the first day of their association the correct method of handling and reducing to subjection his irascible employer was an even greater boon a prolonged association with Mr. Peters on the lines in which their acquaintance had begun would have been extremely trying now by virtue of a fortunate stand at the outset he had spiked the millionaires guns thirdly and most important of all he had not only made himself familiar with the locality of the surroundings of the scarab but he had seen beyond the possibility of doubt that the removal of it and the earning of the five thousand dollars would be the simplest possible task already he was spending the money in his mind and to such lengths had optimism led him that as he sat on his bed reviewing the events of the day his only doubt was whether to get the scarab at once or to let it remain where it was until he had the opportunity of doing Mr. Peters interior good on the lines he had mapped out in their conversation for of course directly he had restored the scarab to its rightful owner and pocketed the reward his position as healer and trainer to the millionaire would cease automatically he was sorry for that because it troubled him to think that a sick man would not be made well but on the whole looking at it from every aspect it would be best to get the scarab as soon as possible Mr. Peters digestion to look after itself being twenty six and an optimist he had no suspicion that fate might be playing with him that fate might have unpleasant surprises in store that fate even now was preparing to smite him in his hour of joy with that powerful weapon the efficient backster he looked at his watch it was five minutes to one he had no idea whether they kept early hours at Blanding's castle or not but he deemed it prudent to give the household another hour in which to settle down after which he would just trot down and collect the scarab the novel he had brought down with him from London fortunately proved interesting two o'clock came before he was ready for it he slipped the book into his pocket and opened the door all was still still and uncommonly dark along the corridor on which his room was situated the snores of sleeping domestics exploded growled and twitted in the air every menial on the list seemed to be snoring some in one key some in another some defiantly some plaintively but the main fact was that they were all snoring somehow thus intimating that so far as this side of the house was concerned the coast might be considered clear and interruption of his plans and negligible risk research has made at an earlier hour had familiarized him with the geography of the place he found his way to the green bay's door without difficulty and stepping through was in the hall where the remains of the log fire still glowed a fitful red this however was the only illumination and it was fortunate that he did not require light to guide him to the museum he knew the direction and had measured the distance it was precisely seventeen steps from where he stood cautiously and with avoidance of noise he began to make the seventeen steps he was beginning the eleventh when he bumped into somebody somebody soft somebody whose hand as it touched his felt small and feminine the fragment of a log fell on the ashes and the fire gave a dying spurt darkness succeeded the sudden glow the fire was out that little flame had been the last effort before expiring but it had been enough to enable him to recognize Joan Valentine good lord he gasped his astonishment was short lived next moment the only thing that surprised him was the fact that he was not more surprised there was something about this girl that made the most bizarre happenings seem right and natural ever since he had met her his life had changed from an orderly succession of uninteresting days to a strange carnival of the unexpected and use was accustoming him to it life had taken on the quality of a dream in which anything might happen and in which everything that did happen was to be accepted with the calmness natural in dreams it was strange that she should be here in the pitch dark hall in the middle of the night but after all no stranger than that he should be in this dream world in which he now moved he had to be taken for granted that people did all sorts of odd things from all sorts of odd motives hello he said don't be alarmed no no i think we are both here for the same reason you don't mean to say yes i have come here to earn the five thousand dollars too mr. marson we are rivals in his present frame of mind it seemed so simple and intelligible to ash that he wondered he was really hearing it the first time he had an odd feeling that he had known this all along you are here to get the scarab exactly ash was dimly conscious of some objection to this but at first it eluded him then he pinned it down but you aren't a young man of good appearance he said i don't know what you mean but aileen peters is an old friend of mine she told me her father would give a large reward to whoever recovered the scarab so i look out whispered ash run there's somebody coming there was a soft footfall on the stairs a click and above ash's head a light flashed out he looked round he was alone and the green bay's door was swaying gently to and fro who's that who's there said a voice the efficient baxter was coming down the broad staircase a general suspicion of mankind and a definite and particular suspicion of one individual made a bad opiate for over an hour sleep had avoided the efficient baxter with an unconquerable coyness he had tried all the known ways of wooing slumber but they had failed him from the counting of sheep downward the events of the night had whipped his mind to a restless activity try as he might to lose consciousness the recollection of the plot he had discovered surged up and kept him wakeful it is the penalty of the suspicious type of mind that it suffers from its own activity from the moment he detected mr. peters in the act of rifling the museum and marked down ash as an accomplice baxter's repose was doomed nor poppy nor mandragora nor all the drowsy syrups of the world could ever medicine him to that sweet sleep which he owed yesterday but it was the recollection that on previous occasions of wakefulness hot whiskey and water had done the trick which had now brought him from his bed and downstairs his objective was the decanter on the table of the smoking room which was one of the rooms opening on the gallery that looked down on the hall hot water he could achieve in his bedroom by means of his stove so out of bed he had climbed and downstairs he had come to all appearances just in time to foil the very plot on which he had been brooding mr. peters might be in bed but there in the hall below him stood the accomplice not ten paces from the museum's door he arrived on the spot at racing speed and confronted ash what are you doing here and then from the baxter viewpoint things began to go wrong by all the rules of the game ash caught as it were red handed should have wilted, stammered and confessed all but ash was fortified by the philosophic calm which comes to us in dreams and moreover he had his story ready mr. peters rang for me sir he had never expected to feel grateful to the little firebrand who employed him but he had to admit that the millionaire in their late conversation had shown forethought the thought struck him that but for mr. peters advice he will be in an extremely awkward position for his was not a swiftly inventive mind rang for you at half past two in the morning to read to him sir to read to him at this hour mr. peters suffers from insomnia sir he has a weak digestion and pain sometimes prevents him from sleeping the lining of his stomach is not at all what it should be i don't believe a word of it with that meekness which makes the good man wrong so impressive a spectacle ash produced and exhibited his novel here is the book i am about to read to him i think sir if you will excuse me i had better be going to his room good night sir he proceeded to mount the stairs he was sorry for mr. peters so shortly about to be roused from a refreshing slumber but these were life's tragedies and he was very bravely the efficient baxter dogged him the whole way sprinting silently in his wake and dodging into the shadows whenever the light of an occasional electric bulb made it advisable to keep to the open then abruptly he gave up the pursuit for the first time his comparative impotence in this silent conflict on which he had embarked was made manifest to him and he perceived to accuse mr. peters of theft or to accuse him of being accessory to a theft was out of the question yet his whole being revolted at the thought of allowing the sanctity of the museum to be violated officially its contents belonged to lord emsworth but ever since his connection with the castle he had been put in charge of them and he had come to look on them as his own property if he was only a collector by proxy he had nevertheless the collectors devotion to his curios beside which the lioness attachment to her cubs is tepid and he was prepared to do anything to retain in his possession a scarab toward which he already entertained the feelings of a life proprietor no not quite anything he stopped short at the idea of causing unpleasantness between the father of the honorable freddy and the father of the honorable freddy's fiance his secretarial position at the castle was a valuable one and he was loathed to jeopardize it there was only one way in which this delicate affair could be brought to a satisfactory conclusion it was obvious from what he had seen that night that mr. peters connection with the attempt on the scarab was to be merely sympathetic and that the actual theft was to be accomplished by ash his only course therefore was to catch ash actually in the museum then mr. peters need not appear in the matter at all mr. peters position in those circumstances would be simply that of a man who had happened to employ through no fault of his own a valet who happened to be a thief he had made a mistake he perceived in locking the door of the museum in future he must leave it open as a trap is open and he must stay up nights and keep watch with these reflections to return to his room meantime ash had entered mr. peters bedroom and switched on the light mr. peters who had just succeeded in dropping off to sleep sat up with a start i've come to read to you said ash mr. peters emitted a stifled howl in which wrath and self pity were nicely blended you fool don't you know i have just managed to get to sleep and now you're awake again a little rest a little folding of the hands in sleep and then bing off we go again i hope you will like this novel i dipped into it and it seems good what do you mean by coming in here at this time of night are you crazy it was your suggestion and by the way i must thank you for it i apologize for calling it thin it worked like a charm i don't think he believed it in fact i know he didn't but it held him i couldn't have thought up anything half so good in an emergency mr. peters wrath changed to excitement did you get it have you been after my my chiops i have been after your chiops but i didn't get it bad men were abroad that fellow with the spectacles who was in the museum when i met you there this evening swooped down from nowhere and i had to tell him that you had wronged for me to read to you fortunately i had this novel on me i think he followed me upstairs to see whether i really did come to your room mr. peters groaned miserably baxter he said he's a man named baxter lord emsworth's private secretary and he suspects us he's the man we i mean you have got to look out for well never mind let's be happy while we can make yourself comfortable and i'll start reading after all what could be pleasanter than a little literature in the small hours shall i begin ash marson found jone valentine in the stable yard after breakfast the next morning playing with a retriever puppy will you spare me a moment of your valuable time certainly mr. marson shall we walk out into the open somewhere where we can't be overheard perhaps it would be better they moved off request your canine friend to withdraw said ash he prevents me from marshaling my thoughts i'm afraid he won't withdraw never mind i'll do my best in spite of him tell me was i dreaming or did i really meet you in the hall this morning at about twenty minutes after two you did and did you really tell me that you had come to the castle to steal recover recover mr. peters scarab i did then it's true it is ash scraped the ground with a meditative toe this he said seems to me to complicate matters somewhat it complicates them abominably i suppose you were surprised when you found that i was on the same game as yourself not in the least you weren't i knew it directly i saw the advertisement in the morning post and i hunted up the morning post directly you had told me that you had become mr. peters valet you have known all along i have ash regarded her admiringly you're wonderful because i saw through you partly that but chiefly because you had the pluck to undertake a thing like this you undertook it but i'm a man and i'm a woman and my theory mr. marson is that a woman can do nearly everything better than a man what a splendid test case this would make to settle the votes for women question once and for all here we are you and i a man and a woman each trying for the same thing and each starting with equal chances suppose i beat you how about the inferiority of women then i never said women were inferior you did with your eyes besides you're an exceptional woman you can't get out of it with a compliment i'm an ordinary woman and i'm going to beat a real man ash frowned i don't like to think of ourselves as working against each other why not because i like you i like you mr. marson but we must not let sentiment interfere with business you want mr. peters five thousand dollars so do i i hate the thought of being the instrument to prevent you from getting the money you won't be i shall be the instrument to prevent you from getting it i don't like that thought either but one has got to face it it makes me feel mean that's simply your old fashioned masculine attitude toward the female mr. marson you look on woman as a weak creature to be shielded and petted we aren't anything of the sort we're terrors we're as hard as nails we're awful creatures you mustn't let my sex interfere with your trying to get this reward think of me as though i were another man we're up against each other in a fair fight and i don't want any special privileges if you don't do your best from now onward i shall never forgive you do you understand i suppose so and we shall need to do our best that little man with the glasses is on his guard i was listening to you last night from behind the door by the way you shouldn't have told me to run away and then have staged yourself to be caught that is an example of the sort of thing i mean it was chivalry not business i had a story ready to account for my being there you had not and what a capital story it was i shall borrow it for my own use if i am caught i shall say i had to read a lean to sleep because she suffers from insomnia and i shouldn't wonder if she did poor girl she doesn't get enough to eat she is being starved poor child i heard one of the footmen say that she refused everything at dinner last night and though she vows it isn't my belief is that it's all because she is afraid to make a stand against her old father it's a shame she is a weak creature to be shielded and petted said ash solemnly don't laugh well yes you caught me there i admit that poor aileen is not a shining example of the formidable modern woman but she stopped oh bother i've just thought of what i ought to have said the good repartee that would have crushed you i suppose it's too late now not at all unlike that myself only it is generally the next day when i hit the right answer shall we go back she is a weak creature to be shielded and petted thank you so much said jone gratefully and why is she a weak creature because she has allowed herself to be shielded and petted because she has permitted man to give her special privileges and generally no it isn't so good as i thought it was going to be it should be crisper said ash critically it lacks the punch but it brings me back to my point which is that i am not going to imitate her and forfeit my independence of action in return for chivalry try to look at it from my point of view mr. marson i know you need the money just as much as i do well don't you think i should feel a little mean if i thought you were not trying your hardest to get it simply because you didn't think it would be fair to try your hardest against a woman that would cripple me i should not feel as though i had the right to do anything it's too important a matter for you to treat me like a child and let me win to avoid disappointing me i want the money but i don't want it handed to me believe me said ash earnestly it will not be handed to you i have studied the backster question more deeply than you have and i can assure you that backster is a menace what has put him so firmly on the right scent i don't know but he seems to have divined the exact state of affairs in its entirety so far as i am concerned that is to say of course he has no idea you were mixed up in the business but i am afraid his suspicion of me will hit you as well what i mean is that for some time to come i fancy that man proposes to camp out on the rug in front of the museum door it would be madness for either of us to attempt to go there at present it is being made very hard for us isn't it and i thought it was going to be so simple i think we should give him at least a week to simmer down fully that let us look on the bright side we are in no hurry Glanding's castle is quite as comfortable as number seven orondle street and the commissariat department is a revelation to me i had no idea ingrish servants did themselves so well and as for the social side i love it for the first time in my life i feel as though i am somebody did you observe my manner toward the kitchen maid who waited on us at dinner last night a touch of the old no bless about it i fancy dignified but not unkind i think and i can keep it up so far as i am concerned let this life continue indefinitely but what about mr. peters don't you think there is danger he may change his mind about that five thousand dollars if we keep him waiting too long now a chance of it being almost within touch of the scarab has had the worst effect on him it has intensified the craving by the way have you seen the scarab yes i got mrs. twumlow to take me to the museum while you were talking to the butler it was dreadful to feel that it was lying there in the open waiting for somebody to take it and not be able to do anything it felt exactly the same it isn't much to look at is it if it hadn't been for the label i wouldn't have believed it was the thing for which peters was offering five thousand dollars reward but that's his affair a thing is worth what somebody will give for it ours not to reason why ours but to elude baxter and gather it in ours indeed you speak as though we were partners instead of rivals ash uttered an exclamation you have hit it why not why any cutthroat competition why shouldn't we form a company it would solve everything jone looked thoughtful you mean divide the reward exactly into two equal parts in the labor the labor how shall we divide that ash hesitated my idea he said was that i should do what i might call the rough work and you mean you should do the actual taking of the scarab exactly i would look after that end of it and what would my duties be well you you would as it were how shall i put it you would so to speak lend moral support by lying snugly in bed fast asleep ash avoided her eye well yes or something on those lines while you ran all the risks no no the risks are practically nonexistent i thought you said just now that it would be madness for either of us to attempt to go to the museum at present jone laughed it won't do mr. marson you remind me of an old cat i once had whenever he killed a mouse he would bring it into the drawing room and lay it affectionately at my feet i would reject the corpse with horror and turn him out but back he would come with his loathsome gift i simply couldn't make him understand that he was not doing me a kindness it was highly of his mouse and it was beyond him to realize that i did not want it you are just the same with your chivalry it's very kind of you to keep offering me your dead mouse but honestly i have no use for it i won't take favors just because i happen to be a female if we are going to form this partnership i insist on doing my fair share of the work and running my fair share of the risks the practically nonexistent risks you're very resolute say pigheaded i shant mind certainly i am a girl has got to be even nowadays if she wants to play fair listen mr. marson i will not have the dead mouse i do not like dead mice if you attempt to work off your dead mouse on me this partnership ceases before it has begun if we are to work together we are going to make alternate attempts to get the scarab no other arrangement will satisfy me then i claim the right to make the first one you don't do anything of the sort we toss up for first chance like little ladies and gentlemen have you a coin i will spin a new call ash made a last stand this is perfectly mr. marson ash gave in he produced a coin and handed it to her gloomily under protest he said head or tail said jone unmoved ash watched the coin gyrating in the sunshine tail he cried the coin stopped rolling tail it is said jone what a nuisance well never mind i'll get my chance if you fail i shan't fail said ash fervently if i have to pull the museum down i won't fail thank heaven there's no chance now if you're doing anything foolish don't be too sure well good luck mr. marson thank you partner they shook hands as they parted at the door jone made one further remark there's just one thing mr. marson yes if i could have accepted the mouse from anyone i should certainly have accepted it from you end of chapter 6 chapter 7 of something new this is a libravox recording all libravox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox.org something new by pg woodhouse chapter 7 it is worthy of record in the light of after events that at the beginning of their visit it was the general opinion of the guests gathered together at Blanding's castle that the place was dull the house party had that air of torpor which one sees in the saloon passengers of an atlantic liner the appearance of resignation to an enforced idleness and a monotony to be broken only by meals lord emsworth's guests gave the impression collectively of being just about to yawn and look at their watches this was partly the fault of the time of year for most house parties are dull if they happen to fall between the hunting and the shooting seasons but must be attributed chiefly to lord emsworth's extremely sketchy notions of the duties of a host the host has no right to in turn a regiment of his relations in his house unless he also invites lively and agreeable outsiders to meet them if he does commit this solicism the least he can do is to work himself to the bone in the effort to invent amusements and diversions for his victims lord emsworth had failed badly in both these matters with the exception of mr. peters his daughter aileen and george emerson there was nobody in the house to the clan and as for his exerting himself to entertain the company was lucky if it caught a glimpse of its host at meals lord emsworth belong to the people who like to be left alone to amuse themselves when they come to a place school of hosts he potted about the garden in an old coat now uprooting a weed now wrangling with the autocrat from scotland who is theoretically in his services head gardener dreamily satisfied when he thought of them at all that his guests were as perfectly happy as he was apart from his son freddy whom he had long since dismissed as a use of abnormal tastes from whom nothing reasonable was to be expected he could not imagine anyone not being content merely to be at blandings when the buds were bursting on the trees a resolute hostess might have saved the situation but lady and warbling tens abilities in that direction stopped short at leaving everything to mrs. twimlow and writing letters in her bedroom when lady and warblington was not writing letters in her bedroom which was seldom for she had an apparently inexhaustible correspondence she was nursing sick headaches in it she was one of those hostesses whom a guest never sees except when he goes into the library and despise the tail of her skirt vanishing through the other door as for the ordinary recreations of the country house the guests could frequent the billiard room where they were sure to find Lord Stockheath playing a hundred up with his cousin Algernon Worcester a spectacle of the liveliest interest or they could if fond of golf console themselves for the absence of links in the neighborhood with the exhilarating pastime of clock golf or they could stroll about the terraces with such of their relations as they happen to be on speaking terms with at the moment and abuse their host and the rest of their relations this was the favorite amusement and after breakfast on a morning ten days after Joan and Ash had formed their compact the terraces were full of perambulating couples here Colonel Horace Mant walking with the Bishop of Godalming was soothing that dignitary by clothing and soldierly words thoughts that the latter had not been able to crush down but which his holy office scarcely permitted him to utter there Lady Mildred Mant linked to Mrs. Jack Hale of the collateral branch of the family was saying things about her father in his capacity of host and entertainer that were making her companion feel like another woman farther on stopping occasionally to gesticulate could be seen other M's worth relations and connections it was a typical scene of quiet peaceful English family life leaning on the broad stone balustrade of the Upper Terrace Aileen Peters and George Emerson surveyed the male contents Aileen gave a little sigh almost inaudible but George's hearing was good I was wondering when you were going to admit it he said shifting his position so that he faced her admit what? that you can't stand the prospect that the idea of being stuck for life with this crowd like a fly on fly paper is too much for you to break off your engagement to Freddie and come away and marry me and live happily ever after George, well wasn't that what it meant be honest what what meant that sigh I didn't sigh I was just breathing then you can breathe in this atmosphere you surprise me he raked the terraces with hostile eyes look at them look at them crawling round like doped beetles my dear girl it's no use if anything wouldn't kill you you're pining away already you're thinner and paler since you came here gee how we shall look back at this and thank our stars that were out of it when we're back in old New York with the elevated rattling and the street cars squealing over the point and something doing every step you take I shall call you on the phone from the office and have you meet me downtown somewhere and we'll have a bite to eat and go to some show and a bit of supper afterward or two and then go home to our cozy George you mustn't really why mustn't I it's wrong you can't talk like that when we are both enjoying the hospitality a wild laugh almost a howl disturbed the talk of the most adjacent of the preambulating relations Colonel Horace Mant checked in mid-sentence looked up resentfully at the cause of the interruption I wish somebody would tell me whether it's that American fellow Emerson young Freddy who's supposed to be engaged to Miss Peters hanged if you ever see her and Freddy together but she and Emerson are never to be found apart if my respected father in law had any sense I should have thought he would have had sense enough to stop that you forget my dear Horace said the bishop charitably Miss Peters and Mr. Emerson have known each other since they were children they were never nearly such children as M's worth is now, snorted the Colonel if that girl isn't in love with Emerson I'll be I'll eat my hat no no said the bishop no no surely not Horace what were you saying when you broke off I was saying that if a man wanted his relations never to speak to each other again for the rest of their lives the best thing he could do would be to herd them all together in a dash barrack of a house a hundred miles from anywhere and then go off and spend all his time prodding dashed flower beds with a spud dash it so so you were go on Horace I find a curious comfort in your words on the terrace above them Aileen was looking at George with startled eyes George I'm sorry but you shouldn't spring these jokes on me so suddenly you said enjoying yes reveling in it aren't we it's a lovely old place said Aileen defensively and when you've said that you've said everything you can't live on scenery architecture for the rest of your life there's the human element to be thought of and you're beginning there goes father interrupted Aileen how fast he is walking George have you noticed the sort of difference in father these last few days I haven't my specialty is keeping an eye on the rest of the Peters family he seems better somehow he seems to have almost stopped smoking and I'm very glad for those cigars were awfully bad for him the doctor expressly told him he must stop them but he wouldn't pay any attention to him and he seems to take so much more exercise my bedroom is next to his you know and every morning I can hear things going on through the wall father dancing about and puffing a good deal and one morning I met his valet going in with a pair of Indian clubs I believe father is really taking himself in hand at last George Emerson exploded and about time two much longer are you going to go on starving yourself to death just to give him the resolution to stick to his dieting it maddens me to see you at dinner and it's killing you you're getting pale and thin you can't go on like this a wistful look came over Aileen's face I do get a little hungry sometimes late at night generally you want somebody to take care of you and look after you I'm the man you may think you can fool me but I can tell you're weakening on this freddy proposition you're beginning to see that it won't do one of these days you're going to come to me and say George you were right I take the count me for the quiet sneak to the station without anybody knowing the break for London and the wedding at the registrar's oh I know I couldn't have loved you all this time and not know you're weakening the trouble with these supermen is that they lack reticence they do not know how to omit and a girl even the mildest and sweetest of girls even a girl like Aileen Peters cannot help presenting the note of triumph but supermen despise tact as far as one can gather that is the chief difference between them and the ordinary man a little frown appeared on Aileen's forehead and she said her mouth mutinously I'm not weakening at all she said and her voice was for her quite acid you take too much for granted George was contemplating the landscape with a conqueror's eye you are beginning to see that it is impossible this Freddie foolishness it is not foolishness said Aileen pettishly tears of annoyance in her eyes and I wish you wouldn't call him Freddie he asked me to he asked me to Aileen stamped her foot well never mind please don't do it very well little girl said George softly I wouldn't do anything to hurt you the fact that it never even occurred to George Emerson he was being offensively patronizing shows the stern stuff of which these supermen are made the efficient Baxter bicycled broodingly to market blandings for tobacco he brooded for several reasons he had just seen Aileen Peters and George Emerson in confidential talk on the upper terrace in mind for he suspected George Emerson he suspected him nebulously as a snake in the grass as an influence working against the orderly progress of events concerning the marriage that had been arranged and would shortly take place between Miss Peters and the Honorable Frederick Threep Wood it would be too much to say that he had any idea that George was putting in such hard and consistent work in his serpentine role if he could have overheard the conversation just recorded it is probable that Rupert Baxter would have had heart failure but he had observed the intimacy between the two as he observed most things in his immediate neighborhood and he disapproved of it it was all very well to say that George Emerson had known Aileen Peters since she was a child if that was so then in the opinion of the efficient Baxter he had known her quite long enough and ought to start making the acquaintance he blamed the Honorable Freddie if the Honorable Freddie had been a more ardent lover he would have spent his time with Aileen and George Emerson would have taken his proper place as one of the crowd at the back of the stage but Freddie's view of the matter seemed to be that he had done all that could be expected of a chappy in getting engaged to the girl and that now he might consider himself at liberty to drop her for a while so Baxter as he bicycled to market and he had made the most of the surroundings for tobacco brooded on Freddie, Aileen Peters and George Emerson he also brooded on Mr. Peters and Ash Marson finally he brooded in a general way because he had had very little sleep the past week the spectacle of a young man doing his duty and enduring considerable discomforts while doing it is painful but there is such uplift in it it affords so excellent a moral picture that I cannot admit a short description of the manner in which Rupert Baxter had spent the nights which had elapsed since his meeting with Ash in the small hours in the hall in the gallery which ran above the hall there was a large chair situated a few paces from the great staircase on this in an overcoat for the nights were chilly and rubber-soled shoes the efficient Baxter had sat without missing a single night from one in the morning until daybreak waiting waiting waiting it had been an ordeal to try the stoutest determination nature had never intended Baxter for a night bird he loved his bed he knew that doctors held that insufficient sleep made a man pale and sallow and he had always aimed at the peach blossom complexion which comes from a sensible eight hours between the sheets one of the King George's of England, I forget which once said that a certain number of hours sleep each night I cannot recall at the moment how many made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory Baxter agreed with him it went against all his instincts to sit up in this fashion but it was his duty and he did it it troubled him that as night after night went by and Ash the suspect did not walk into the trap so carefully laid for him keeping awake the first two or three of his series of vigils he had passed in an unimpeachable wakefulness his chin resting on the rail of the gallery and his ears alert for the slightest sound but he had not been able to maintain this standard of excellence on several occasions he had caught himself in the act of dropping off and the last night he had actually wakened with a start to find it quite light as his last recollection before that was of an inky darkness impenetrable to the eye this may gripped him with a sudden clutch and he ran swiftly down to the museum his relief on finding that the scarab was still there had been tempered by thoughts of what might have been Baxter then as he bicycled to market landings for tobacco had good reason to brood having bought his tobacco and observed the life and thought of the town for half an hour it was market day and the normal stagnation of the place was temporarily relieved and brightened by pigs that eluded their keepers and a bull calf which caught a stout farmer at the psychological moment when he was tying his shoelace and lifted him six feet he made his way to the Emsworth arms the most respectable of the eleven ends the citizens of market landings contrived in some miraculous way to support in English country towns if the public houses do not actually outnumber the inhabitants they all do an excellent trade it is only when they are two to one that hard times hit them and set the inn keepers to blaming the government it was not the busy bar full to overflowing with honest British yeoman many of them in a similar condition the Baxter sought his goal was the gentile dining room on the first floor where a bald and shuffling waiter owned cousin to a tortoise served luncheon to those desiring it lack of sleep had reduced Baxter to a condition where the presence and chatter of the house party were insupportable it was his purpose to lunch at the Emsworth arms and take a nap in an armchair afterward he had relied on having the room to himself for market landings did not lunch to a great extent but to his annoyance and disappointment the room was already occupied by a man in browed tweets occupied is the correct word for at first sight this man seemed to fill the room never since almost forgotten days when he used to frequent circuses and side shows had Baxter seen a fellow human being so extraordinarily obese he was a man about 50 years old gray haired of a mauve complexion and his general appearance suggested joviality to Baxter's chagrin this person engaged him in conversation directly he took his seat at the table there was only one table in the room as his customary in English ends and it had the disadvantage that it collected those seated at it into one party it was impossible for Baxter to withdraw into himself and ignore this person's advances it is doubtful whether he could have done it however had they been separated by yards of floor for the fat man was not only naturally talkative but as appeared from his opening remarks speech had been damned up within him for some time by lack of a suitable victim morning he began nice day good for the farmers I'll move up to your end of the table if I may sir way to bring my beef to this gentleman's end of the table he creaked into a chair at Baxter's side and resumed Baxter I haven't found a soul to speak to since I arrived yesterday afternoon except deaf and dumb rustics are you making a long stay here I live outside the town I pity you wouldn't care to do it myself had to come here on business and shan't be sorry when it's finished I give you my word I couldn't sleep a wink last night because of the quiet I was just dropping off when a beast of a bird outside the window gave a chirp it brought me up with a jerk as though somebody had fired a gun there's a damned cat somewhere near my room that mews I lie in bed waiting for the next mew all worked up heaven save me from the country it may be alright for you if you've got a comfortable home and a pal or two to chat with after dinner but you've no conception what it's like in this infernal town I suppose it calls itself a town what a hole there's a church down the street there's a man or something anyway it's old I'm not much of a man for churches as a rule but I went and took a look at it then somebody told me there was a fine view from the end of high street so I went out and took a look at that and now so far as I can make out I've done the sites and exhausted every possibility of entertainment the town has to provide unless there's another church I'm so reduced that I'll go and see the Methodist chapel if there is one fresh air, want of sleep in the closeness of the dining room combined to make Baxter drowsy he ate his lunch in a torpor hardly replying to his companions' remarks who for his part did not seem to wish or to expect replies it was enough for him to be talking what do people do with themselves in a place like this when they want amusement I mean I suppose it's different if you've been brought up to it like being born colorblind or something you don't notice it's the visitor who suffers they've no enterprise in this sort of place there's a bit of land just outside here that would make a sweet steeple chase course natural barriers everything it hasn't occurred to him to do anything with it it makes you despair of your species that sort of thing now if I Baxter dozed with his fork still impaling a piece of cold beef he dropped into that half awake half asleep state which is nature's daytime substitute for the true slumber of the night the fat man either not noticing or not caring talked on his voice was a steady drone lulling Baxter to rest suddenly there was a break Baxter sat up blinking he had a curious impression that his companion had said hello Freddy and that the door had just opened and closed hey he said yes said the fat man what did you say? I was speaking of I thought you said hello Freddy his companion eyed him indulgently I thought you were dropping off when I looked at you you've been dreaming what should I say hello Freddy for the conundrum was unanswerable Baxter did not attempt to answer it but there remained at the back of his mind a quaint idea that he had caught sight as he woke of the honorable Frederick Threepwood his face warningly contorted vanishing through the doorway yet what could the honorable Freddy be doing at the M's worth arms a solution of the difficulty occurred to him he had dreamed he had seen Freddy and that had suggested the words which reason pointed out his companion could hardly have spoken even if the honorable Freddy should enter the room this fat man who was apparently a drummer of some kind would certainly not know who he was nor would he address him so familiarly yes that must be the explanation after all the quaintest things happened in dreams last night when he had fallen asleep in his chair he had dreamed that he was sitting in a glass case in the museum making faces at Lord M's worth Mr. Peters and Beach the Butler who were trying to steal him under the impression that he was a scarab of the reign of Chiops of the fourth dynasty a thing he would never have done when await yes he must certainly have been dreaming in the bedroom into which he had dashed to hide himself on discovering that the dining room was in possession of the efficient Baxter the honorable Freddy sat on a rickety chair scowling he elaborated a favorite dictum of his you can't take a step anywhere without stumbling over that damn fellow Baxter he wondered whether Baxter had seen him he wondered whether Baxter had recognized him he wondered whether Baxter had heard our Jones say hello Freddy he wondered if such should be the case whether our Jones presence of mind and native resource had been equal to explaining away the remark End of Chapter 7