 Chapter 5 Good God! cried Eustace Hignet. He stared at the figure which loomed above him in the fading light, which came through the porthole of the stateroom. The hour was seven-thirty, and he had just woken from a troubled dose, full of strange nightmares, and for the moment he thought that he must still be dreaming, for the figure before him could have walked straight into any nightmare, and no questions asked. Then suddenly he became aware that it was his cousin Samuel Marlowe. As in the historic case of Father in the Pigsty, he could tell him by his hat. But why was he looking like that? Was it simply some trick of the uncertain light, or was his face really black, and had his mouth suddenly grown six times its normal size, and become a vivid crimson? Sam turned. He had been looking at himself in the mirror, with a satisfaction which, to the casual observer, his appearance would not have seemed to justify. Hignet had not been suffering from a delusion. His cousin's face was black, and even as he turned, he gave it a dab with a piece of burnt cork, and made it blacker. Hello! You awake? He said, and switched on the light. Eustace Hignet shied like a startled horse. His friend's profile seemed dimly. Had been disconcerting enough. His little face, he was a revolting object. Nothing that Eustace Hignet had encountered in his recent dreams, and they had included such unusual fauna, as elephants in top hats, and running shorts, had affected him so profoundly. Sam's appearance smote him like a blow. It seemed to take him straight into a different and dreadful world. What? What? What? He gurgled. Sam squinted at himself in the glass, and added a touch of black to his nose. How do I look? Eustace Hignet began to fear that his cousin's reason must have become unseated. He could not conceive of any really sane man, looking like that, being anxious to be told how he looked. I lips-read enough. It's for the ship's concert, you know. Starts in half an hour. I believe I'm not on till the second part. Speaking as a friend, would you put a touch more black round the ears? Or are they all right? Curiosity replaced apprehension, Hignet's mind. What on earth are you doing performing at the ship's concert? Oh, they wrote me in. It got about somehow that I was a valuable man, and they wouldn't take no. Sam deepened the colour of his ears. As a matter of fact, he said casually, my fiancée made rather a point of my doing something. A sharp yell from the lower berth proclaimed the fact that the significance of the remark had not been lost on Eustace. Your fiancée? The girl I'm engaged to, didn't I tell you about that? Yes, I'm engaged. Eustace sighed heavily. I feared the worst. Tell me, who is she? Didn't I tell you her name? No. Curious, I must have forgotten. He hummed an airy strain as he blackened the tip of his nose. It's rather a curious coincidence, really. Her name is Bennet. She may be a relation. That's true. Of course, girls do have relations. What is her first name? And that's another rather remarkable thing. It's Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina? Of course, there must be hundreds of girls in the world called Wilhelmina Bennet. But still, it is a coincidence. What colour is her hair? Demanded Eustace Higmott in a hollow voice. Her hair. What colour is it? Her hair. Now, let me see. You ask me what colour is her hair. Well, you might call it Orban or Russet. Or you might call it Titian. Never mind what you might call it. Is it red? Red? Why, yes, that is a very good description of it. Now that you've put it to me like that, it is red. Has she a trick of grabbing at you suddenly when she gets excited like a kitten with a ball of wool? Yes. Yes, she has. Eustace Higmott uttered a sharp cry. Sam, he said, can you bear a shock? I'll have a dash at it. Brace up. The girl you are engaged to is the same girl who promised to marry me. Well, well, said Sam. There was a silence. Obviously, sorry, of course, and all that, said Sam. Don't apologise to me, said Eustace. Poor old chap. My only feeling towards you is one of the purest and profoundest pity. He reached out and pressed Sam's hand. I regard you as a toad beneath the harrow. Well, I suppose that's one way of offering congratulations and cheery good wishes. And on top of that, went on Eustace, deeply moved, you have got to sing at the ship's concert. Why shouldn't I sing at the ship's concert? My dear old man, you have many worthy qualities, but you must know that you can't sing. You can't sing for nuts. I don't want to discourage you, but long ago as it is, you can't have forgotten what an ass you made of yourself at that house supper at school. Seeing you up against it like this, I regret that I threw a lump of butter at you on that occasion, though at the time it seemed the only course to pursue. Sam started. Was it you who threw up a bit of butter? It was. I wish I had known. You silly chump. You ruined my collar. Ah, well, it's seven years ago. You would have had to send it to the wash anyhow by this time. But don't let us brood on the past. Let us put our heads together and think how we can get you out of this terrible situation. I don't want to get out of it. I confidently expect to be the hit of the evening. The hit of the evening? You singing? I'm not going to sing. I'm going to do that imitation of Frank Tinney, which I did at the Trinity Smoker. You can't have forgotten that. You were at the piano, taking the parts of the conductor, of the orchestra. What a riot I was. We were. I say, used to soul man, I suppose you don't feel well enough to come up now and take your old part. You could do it without a rehearsal. You remember how it went? Hello, Ernest. Hello, Frank. Why don't come along? The only piano I will ever sit at will be one firmly fixed to a floor that does not even wobble under me. Nonsense. The boat's as steady as a rock now. The sea is like a mill pond. Nevertheless, thanking you for your suggestion, no. Oh, well then, I shall have to get on as best I can with that fellow Mortimer. We've been rehearsing all the afternoon, and he seems to have the hang of the thing. But he won't be really right. He has no pep, no vim. Still, if you won't, well, I think I'll be getting along to his stateroom. I told him I'd look in for a last rehearsal. The door closed behind Sam, and Eustace Hignet, lying on his back, gave himself up to melancholy meditation. He was deeply disturbed by his cousin's sad story. He knew what it meant being engaged to Wilhelmina Bennett. It was like being taken aloft in a balloon, and dropped with a thud on the rocks. His reflections were broken by the abrupt opening of the door. Marlowe rushed in, Eustace peered anxiously out of his berth. There was too much cork on his cousin's face to allow of any real registering of emotion. But he could tell, from his manner, that all was not well. What's the matter? Sam sank on the lounge. The bounder has quit. The bounder. What bounder? There is only one. Bre Mortimer curse him. There may be others whom thoughtless critics rank as bounders. But he is the only man really deserving of the title. He refuses to appear. He has walked out on the act. He has left me flat. I went into his stateroom just now, as arranged, and the man was lying on his bunk groaning. I thought you said the sea was like a mill pond. It wasn't that. He's perfectly fit. But it seems that the silly ass took into his head to propose to Billy just before dinner. Apparently he's loved her for years in a silent, self-effacing way. And of course she told him that she was engaged to me, and the thing upset him to such an extent that he says the idea of sitting down at a piano and helping me give an imitation of Frank Tinney revolts him. He says he intends to spend the evening in bed reading Schopenhauer. I hope it chokes him. But this is splendid. This lets you out. What do you mean, lets me out? Why? For you won't be able to appear. Oh, you will be thankful for this in years to come. Won't I appear? Won't I dashed well appear? Do you think I'm going to disappoint that dear girl when she is relying on me? I would rather die. But you can't appear without a pianist. I've got a pianist. You have? Yes. A little undersized shrimp of a fellow with a green face and ears like water wings. I don't think I know him. Yes, you do. He's you. Me? Yes, you. You are going to sit at the piano tonight. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's impossible. I gave you my views on the subject just now. You've altered them. I haven't. Well, you soon will, and I'll tell you why. If you don't get up out of that damn birth, you've been roosting in all your life. I'm going to ring for J.B. Midgley, and I'm going to tell him to bring me a bit of dinner in here, and I'm going to eat it before your eyes. But you've had dinner. Well, I'll have another. I feel just ready for a nice fat pork chop. Stop. Stop. I've had that pork chop with potatoes and lots of cabbage, repeated Sam firmly, and I shall eat it here on this very lounge. Now, how do we do? You wouldn't do that, said Eustace piteously. I would and will. But I shouldn't be any good at the piano. I've forgotten how the thing used to go. You haven't done anything of the kind. I come in and say, Hello, Ernest, and you say, Hello, Frank. And then you help me tell the story about the Pullman car. A child could do your part of it. Perhaps there is some child on board. No, I want you. I shall feel safe with you. We've done it together before. But honestly, I really don't think it isn't as if Sam rose and extended a finger towards the bell. Stop. Stop. cried Eustace Hignett. I'll do it. Sam withdrew his finger. Good, he said. We've just got time for a rehearsal while you're dressing. Hello, Ernest. Hello, Frank, said Eustace Hignett, brokenly, as he searched for his unfamiliar trousers. Chapter 5. Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org. Chapter 6 of Three Men Are Damaged. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, not a volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org. Three Men Are Damaged by P. G. Woodhouse, Chapter 6. Most concerts are given in aid of the seamen's orphans and widows, and after one has been present at a few of them, one seems to feel that any right thinking, orphan or widow, would rather jog along and take a chance of starvation, than be the innocent cause of such things. They open with a long speech from the master of ceremonies, so long as a rule, that it is only the thought of what is going to happen afterwards, that enables the audience to bear it with fortitude. This done, the amateur talent is unleashed, and the grim work begins. It was not till after the all-too-brief intermission for rest and recuperation, that the newly-formed team of Marlowe and Hignet were scheduled to appear. Previous to this, there had been dark deeds done in the quiet saloon. The lecturer on deep-sea fish had fulfilled his threat, and spoken at great length on a subject which, treated by a master of oratory, would have pawled on the audience after ten or fifteen minutes. And at the end of fifteen minutes this speaker had only just got past the haddocks, and was feeling his way tentatively through the shrimps. The rosary had been sung, and there was an uneasy doubt as to whether it was not going to be sung again after the interval. The latest rumour being that the second of the rival lady-singers had proved adamant to all appeals, and intended to fight the thing out on the lines she had originally chosen. If they put her in irons, a young man recited Gangadin, and willfully misinterpreting the gratitude of the audience that it was over, for a desire for more, had followed it with fuzzy-wuzzy. His sister, of these things run in families, had sung My Little Grey Home in the West rather somberly, for she had wanted to sing the rosary, and with the same obtuseness which characterised her brother, had come back and rendered two plantation songs. The audience was now examining its programmes in the interval of silence in order to ascertain the duration of the sentence still remaining unexpired. It was shocked to read the following. 7. A Little Imitation, S. Marlowe All over the saloon you could see fair women and brave men wilting in their seats. Imitation. The word, as Keats would have said, was like a knell. Many of these people were old travellers, and their minds went back wincingly, as one recalls forgotten wounds. To occasions, when performers at ships' concerts had imitated whole strings of Dickens characters, or with the assistance of a few hats and little false hair, had endeavoured to portray Napoleon, Bismarck, Shakespeare, and others of the famous dead. In this printed line on the programme, there was nothing to indicate the nature or scope of the imitation which this S. Marlowe proposed to inflict upon them. They could only sit and wait and hope that it would be short. There was a sinking of hearts as Eustace Hignet moved down the room and took his place at the piano. 8. A Pianist, this argued more singing. The more pessimistic began to fear that the imitation was going to be one of those imitations of well-known opera-artists, which, though rare, do occasionally add to the horrors of ships' concerts. They stared at Hignet apprehensively. There seemed to them something ominous in the man's aspect. His face was very pale and set, the face of one approaching a task at which his humanity shudders. They could not know that the pallor of Eustace Hignet was due entirely to the slight tremor which, even on the calmest nights, the engines of an ocean liner produced in the flooring of a dining room's saloon. And to that faint yet well-defined smell of cooked meats which clings to a room where a great many people have recently been eating a great many meals. A few beads of cold perspiration were clinging to Eustace Hignet's brow. He looked straight before him with unseeing eyes. He was thinking hard of the Sahara. Her tense was Eustace's concentration, that he did not see Billy Bennett seated in the front row. Billy had watched him enter with a little thrill of embarrassment. She wished that she had been content with one of the seats at the back, but her friend Jane Hubbard, who accompanied her, had insisted on the front row. In order to avoid recognition for as long as possible, Billy now put up her fan and turned to Jane. She was surprised to see that her friend was staring eagerly before her. With fixity almost equal to that of Eustace. What is the matter, Jane? Jane Hubbard was a tall, handsome girl with large brown eyes. About her, as Bream Mortimer had said, there was something dynamic. The daughter of an eminent explorer and big-game hunter, she had frequently accompanied her father on his expeditions, an outdoors girl. Who is that man at the piano? She whispered. Do you know him? As a matter of fact, I do, said Billy. His name is Hignet. Why? I met him on the subway not long ago. Poor little fellow, how miserable he looks. At this moment their conversation was interrupted. Eustace Hignet, pulling himself together with a painful effort, raised his hands and struck a crashing chord. And as he did so, there appeared through the door at the far end of the saloon a figure at the sight of which the entire audience started convulsively, with a feeling that a worse thing had befallen them than even they had looked for. The figure was richly clad in some scarlet material. Its face was a grisly black, and below the nose appeared what seemed to be a horrible gash. It advanced towards them, smoking a cigar. Hello, Ernest, it said. And then it seemed to pause expectantly, as though desiring some reply. The red silence reigned in the saloon. Hello, Ernest! Those nearest the piano. And nobody more quickly than Jane Hubbard now observed that the white face of the man on the stool had grown whiter still. His eyes gazed out glassily from under his damp brow. He looked like a man who was seeing some ghastly sight. The audience sympathized with him. They felt like that, too. In all human plans there is ever some slight hitch. Some little miscalculation, which just makes all the difference. A moment's thought should have told Eustace Hignet that a half-smoked cigar was one of the essential properties to any imitation of the eminent Mr. Tinney. But he had completely overlooked the fact. The cigar came as an absolute surprise to him, and it could not have affected him more powerfully if it had been a voice from the tomb. He stared at it pallidly, like Macbeth at the ghost of Banquo. It was a strong, lively, young cigar, and its curling smoke played lightly about his nostrils. His jaw fell. His eyes protruded. He looked for a long moment, like one of those deep-sea fishes, concerning which the recent lecturer had spoken so searchingly. When, with the cry of a stricken animal, he bounded from his seat and fled for the deck. There was a rustle of millenery at Billy's side as Jane Hubbard rose and followed him. Jane was deeply stirred. Even as he sat, looking so pale and piteous at the piano, her big heart had gone out to him, and now, in his moment of anguish, he seemed to bring to the surface everything that was best and most compassionate in her nature, thrusting aside a steward who happened to be between her and the door she raced in pursuit. Sir Marlowe had watched his cousin's dash for the open, with a consternation so complete that his sense seemed to have left him. A general, deserted by his men on some stricken field, might have felt something akin to his emotion. Of all the learned professions, the imitation of Mr. Frank Tinney is the one which can least easily be carried through single-handed. The man at the piano, the leader of the orchestra, is essential. He has the lifeblood of the entertainment. Without him, nothing can be done. For an instant, Sam stood there, gaping blankly. Then the open door of the saloon seemed to beckon an invitation. He made for it, reached it, passed through it. That concluded his efforts in aid of the seamen's orphans and widows. The spell which had lain on the audience broke. This imitation seemed to them to possess, in an extraordinary measure, the one quality which renders amateur imitations tolerable. That of brevity. They had seen many amateur imitations, but never one as short as this. The saloon echoed with their applause. It brought no balm to Samuel Marlowe. He did not hear it. He had fled for refuge to his stateroom, and was lying in the lower berth, chewing the pillow, a soul in torment. End of Chapter 6 Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org Chapter 7 of Three Men and the Made There was a tap at the door. Sam sat up dizzily. He had lost all count of time. Who's that? I have a note for you, sir. It was the level voice of JB Midgley, the steward. The stewards of the White Star Line, besides being the civilist and most obliging body of men in the world, all have soft and pleasant voices. A White Star steward, waking you up at 6.30 to tell you that your bath is ready when you wanted to sleep on till 12, is the nearest human approach to the Nightingale. A what? A note, sir. Sam jumped up and switched on the light. He went to the door and took the note from JB Midgley, who, his mission accomplished, retired in an orderly manner down the passage. Sam looked at the letter with a thrill. He had never seen the handwriting before, but with the eye of love he recognized it. It was just the sort of hand he would have expected Billy to write. It was round and smooth and flowing. The writing of a warm-hearted girl. He tore open the envelope. Please come to the top deck. I want to speak to you. Sam could not disguise it from himself that he was a little disappointed. I don't know if you see anything wrong with the letter, but the way Sam looked at it was that, for a first love letter, it might have been longer than perhaps a shade warmer, and, without running any risk of writer's cramp, she might have signed it. However, these were small matters. No doubt she had been in a hurry, and all that sort of thing. The important point was that he was going to see her. When a man's afraid sings the bard, a beautiful maid is a cheering sight to see. And the same truth holds good when a man has made an exhibition of himself at a ship's concert. A woman's gentle sympathy. That was what Sam Marlowe wanted more than anything else at the moment. That, he felt, was what the doctor ordered. He scrubbed the burnt cork off his face with all possible speed and changed his clothes and made his way to the upper deck. It was like Billy, he felt, to have chosen this spot for their meeting. It would be deserted, and it was hallowed for them both by sacred associations. She was standing at the rail, looking out over the water. The moon was quite full. Out on the horizon to the south, it's light shone on the sea, but it looked like the silver beach of some distant fairy island. The girl appeared to be wrapped in thought, and it was not till the sharp crack of Sam's head against an overhanging stanchion announced his approach that she turned. Oh, is that you? Yes. You've been a long time. It wasn't an easy job, exclaimed Sam, getting all that burnt cork off. You've no notion how the stuff sticks. You have to use butter, she shuddered. Don't. But I did. You have to, with burnt cork. Don't tell me these horrible things! Her voice rose almost hysterically. I never want to hear the words burnt cork mentioned again as long as I live. I feel exactly the same. Sam moved to her side. Darling! he said in a low voice. It was like you to ask me to meet you here. I know what you were thinking. You thought that I should need sympathy. You wanted to pet me, to soothe my wounded feelings, to hold me in your arms, and to tell me that as we loved each other what did anything else matter? I didn't. You didn't? No, I didn't. Oh, you didn't. I thought you did. He looked at her wistfully. I thought, he said, that possibly you might have wished to comfort me. I have been through a great strain. I have had a shock. And what about me? She demanded passionately. Haven't I had a shock? He melted at once. Have you had a shock, too? Poor little thing. Sit down and tell me all about it. She looked away from him, her face working. Can't you understand what a shock I have had? I thought you were the perfect knight. Yes, isn't it? Isn't what? I thought you said it was a perfect knight. I said I thought you were a perfect knight. Oh, ah. A sailor crossed the deck, a dim figure in the shadows, went over to a sort of raised summer house with a brass thing of me in it, fooled about for a moment, and went away again. Sailors earn their money easily. Yes, said Sam, when he had gone. I forget what I was saying. Something about my being the perfect knight. Yes, I thought you were. That's good. But you're not. No. No. Oh. Silence fell. Sam was feeling hurt and bewildered. He could not understand her mood. He had come up expecting to be soothed and comforted, and she was like a petulant iceberg. Synically, he recalled some lines of poetry which he had to write out a hundred times on one occasion at school, as a punishment for having introduced a white mouse into chapel. A woman in our hours of ease, unsomething, something, something, please, when tiddly umpty, umpty brow, something, something, something, thou. You'd forgotten the exact words, but the gist of it had been that woman, however she might treat a man in times of prosperity, could be relied on to rally round and do the right thing when he was in trouble. How little the poet had known women. Why not? He said huffily. She gave a little sob. I put you on a pedestal and I find you have feet of clay. You have blurred the image which I formed of you. I can never think of you again without picturing you as you stood in that saloon, stammering and helpless. Well, what can you do when your pianist runs out on you? You could have done something. I can't forgive a man for looking ridiculous. Oh, what, what, she cried, induced you to try to give an imitation of Bert Williams. Sam started, stung to the quick. But how was I to know? I did my best," said Sam sullenly. That is an awful thought. I did it for your sake. I know it gives me a horrible sense of guilt. She shuddered again. Then suddenly with the nervous quickness of a woman unstrung, thrust a small black golly-wog into his hand. Take this. Take it. What's this? You bought it for me yesterday at the barber's shop. It's the only present that you have given me. Take it back. I don't want it. I shouldn't know what to do with it. You must take it," she said in a low voice. It is a symbol. A what? A symbol of our broken love. I don't see how you make that out. It's a golly-wog. I can never marry you now. What? Good heavens, don't be absurd. I can't. Oh, go on, have a dash at it," he said encouragingly, though his heart was sinking. She shook her head. No, I couldn't. Oh, hang it all. I couldn't. I'm a strange girl. You're a darn silly girl. I don't see what right you have to say that. She flared. I don't see what right you have to say you can't marry me and try to load me up with golly-wogs. He retorted with equal heat. Oh, can't you understand? No, I'm dashed if I can. She looked at him despondently. When I said I would marry you, you stood to me for everything that was noble and brave and wonderful. I had only to shut my eyes to conjure up the picture of you as you dived off the rail that morning. Now, her voice trembled, if I shut my eyes now, I can only see a man with a hideous black face making himself the laughingstock of the ship. How can I marry you haunted by that picture? But, good heavens, you talk as if I made a habit of blacking up. You talk as if I made a habit of blacking up. You talk as if you expected me to come to the altar smothered in burnt cork. I shall always think of you as I saw you that night. She looked at him sadly. There's a bit of black still on your left ear. He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away. He fell back as if struck. So, this is the end, he muttered. Yes, it's partly on your ear and partly on your cheek. So, this is the end, he repeated. You better go below and ask your steward to give you some more butter. He laughed bitterly. Well, I might have expected it. I might have known what would happen. Eustace warned me. Eustace was right. He knows women as I do now. Women. What mighty ills have not been done by women. Who was to betray the what's its name? A woman. Who lost, lost, who, and so on. A woman. So, all is over, there is nothing to be said. But goodbye. No. Goodbye then, Miss Bennet. Goodbye, said Billy sadly. I am sorry. Don't mention it. You do understand, don't you? You have made everything perfectly clear. I hope, I hope you won't be unhappy. Unhappy? Strangled noise from his larynx. Like the cry of a shrimp in pain. Unhappy? I'm not unhappy. Whatever gave you that idea. I'm smiling. I'm laughing. I feel I've had a merciful escape. It's very unkind and rude of you to say that. It reminds me of a moving picture I saw in New York. It was called Saved from the Scaffold. Oh, I'm not unhappy. What have I got to be unhappy about? What on earth does any man want to get married for? I don't. Give me my gay bachelor life. My uncle Charlie used to say it's better luck to get married than it is to be kicked in the head by a mule. But he was an optimist. Good night, Miss Bennet. And goodbye, forever. He turned on his heel and strode across the deck. From a white heaven the moon still shone benignly down, mocking him. He had spoken bravely. But the most captious critic could not but have admitted that he had made a good exit. But already his heart was aching. As he drew near to his stateroom he was amazed and disgusted to hear a high tenor voice raised in song, proceeding from behind the closed door. I free an awe for in shining amore. Though his lence be sharp and air keen but I fear I fear the glamour though the drooping lashes seen I fear I fear the glamour. Sam flung open the door rothfully that Eustace Ignet should still be alive was bad. He had pictured him hurling himself overboard and bobbing about a pleasing sight in the wake of the vessel that he should be singing was an outrage. Remorse, Sam thought should have stricken Eustace Ignet dumb instead of which here he was comporting himself like a blasted linnet. It was all wrong. The man could have no conscience whatever. Well, he said sternly so there you are. Eustace Ignet looked up brightly even beamingly in the brief interval which had elapsed since Sam had seen him last an extraordinary transformation had taken place in this young man. His one look had disappeared his eyes were bright his face wore that beastly self-satisfied smirk which you see in pictures advertising certain makes of fine mesh underwear. If Eustace Ignet had been a full page drawing my dear fellow I always wear Sigsby's super fine featherweight printed underneath him he could not have looked more pleased with himself. Hello he said I was wondering where you had got to Never mind Sam coldly where I had got to where did you get to and why you poor miserable worm he went on in a burst of generous indignation what have you to say for yourself what do you mean by dashing away like that and killing my little entertainment awfully sorry old man I hadn't foreseen the cigar I was bearing up tolerably well till I began sniff the smoke then everything seemed to go black I don't mean you of course you were black already and I got the feeling that I simply must get on deck and drown myself well why didn't you demanded Sam with a strong sense of injury I might have forgiven you then here and find you singing a soft light came into Eustace Hignet's eyes I want to tell you all about that he said it's the most astonishing story a miracle you might almost call it makes you believe in fate and all that sort of thing a week ago I was on the subway in New York he broke off while Sam cursed him the subway and the city of New York in the order named my dear chap what is the matter what is the matter something is the matter repeated Eustace Hignet I can tell it by your manner something has happened to disturb and upset you I know you so well that I can pierce the mask what is it tell me ha ha you surely can't still be brooding over that concert business why that's all over I take it that after my departure you made the most colossal ass of yourself but why let that worry you unpermanently can't they let me tell you that as a result of that concert my engagement is broken off Eustace sprang forward without stretched hand not really how splendid except my congratulations this is the finest thing that could possibly have happened these are not idle words as one who has been engaged to the girl himself I speak feelingly you are well out of it Sam Sam thrust aside his hand had it in his neck he might have touched it eagerly but he drew the line at shaking hands with Eustace Hignet my heart is broken he said with dignity that feeling will pass giving way to one of devout thankfulness I know I've been there after all will her mind have been it what is she a rag a bone and a hang of air she is nothing of the kind said Sam revolted pardon me said Eustace firmly I speak as an expert I know her and I repeat she is a rag a bone and a hang of air she is the only girl in the world and owing to your idiotic behavior I have lost her you speak of the only girl in the world said Eustace blithely if you want to hear about the only girl in the world I will tell you a week ago I was on the subway in New York I'm going to bed said Sam bruskly all right I'll tell you while you're undressing I don't want to listen a week ago said Eustace Hignett I will ask you to picture me seated after some difficulty in a carriage of a New York subway I got into conversation with a girl with an elephant gun Sam revised his private combination service in order to include the elephant gun she was my soulmate preceded Eustace with quiet determination I didn't know it at the time but she was she had grave brown eyes a wonderful personality and this elephant gun she was bringing the gun away from the downtown place where she had taken it to be mended did she shoot you with it shoot me what do you mean why no the girl must have been a fool the chance of a lifetime and she missed it where are my pyjamas I haven't seen your pyjamas she talked to me about this elephant gun and explained its mechanism you can imagine how she soothed my aching heart my heart if you recollect was aching at the moment quite unnecessarily if I had only known because it was only a couple of days since my engagement to Wilhelmina Bennett had been broken off well we parted at 66th street and strange as it may seem I forgot all about her do it again tell it again good heavens know forget all about her again nothing could make me do that our souls have blended our beings have called to one another from their deepest depths saying there are your pyjamas over in the corner saying you are mine how could I forget her after that well as I was saying we parted little did I know that she was sailing on this very boat but just now she came to me as I arrived on the deck did you ride Sam with a flicker of moody interest I certainly did that's good but not for long that's bad she came to me and healed me Sam that girl is an angel such of the light when you're finished she seemed to understand without a word how I was feeling there are some situations which do not need words she went away and returned with a mixture of some kind in a glass I don't know what it was it had Worcester sauce in it she made me drink it she said it was what her father always used in Africa for bull calves with the staggers well believe me or believe me not are you asleep believe me or believe me not under two minutes I was not merely freed from the nausea caused by your cigar I was smoking myself I was walking the deck with her without the slightest qualm I was even able to look over the side from time to time and comment on the beauty of the water I have said some more than things about women since I came on board this boat I withdraw them unreservedly they still apply to girls like Wilhelmina Bennett but I have ceased to include the whole sex in my remarks Jane Hubbard has restored my faith in woman Sam Sam what I said that Jane Hubbard has restored my faith in woman finished undressing and gotten to bed with a soft smile on his face he switched off the light there was a long silence broken only by the distant purring of the engines at about 12.30 a voice came from the lower berth Sam what is it now there is a sweet womanly strength about her Sam she was telling me that she once killed a panther with a hatpin Sam groaned and tossed on his mattress silence fell again at least I think it was a panther said Eustace Hignet at a quarter past one either a panther or a puma end of chapter 7 recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org chapter 8 of three men and the maid this is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org three men and the maid by PG Woodhouse chapter 8 a week after the liner Atlantic had docked at Southampton Sam Marlowe might have been observed and was observed by various of the residents sitting on a bench on the Espenard of that repellent watering place Bingley on the sea in Sussex all watering places on the south coast of England are plots on the landscape but I am aware that by saying it I shall offend the civic pride of some of the others none are so peculiarly foul as Bingley on the sea the asphalt on the Bingley Esplanade is several degrees more depressing than the asphalt on other Esplanades the Swiss waiters at the hotel Magnificent where Sam was stopping are in a class of bungling incompetence by themselves the envy and despair of all the other Swiss waiters at all the other hotels Magnificent along the coast for dreariness of aspect Bingley on the sea stands alone the very waves that break on the shingle seem to creep up the beach reluctantly as if it revolted them to come to such a place why then was Sam Marlowe visiting this ozone swept Gehenna why with all the rest of England at his disposal had he chosen to spend a week at breezy, blighted Bingley simply because he had been disappointed in love he had sought relief by slinking off alone to the most benighted spot he knew in the same spirit as other men in similar circumstances had gone off to the Rockies to shoot grizzly bears to a certain extent the experiment had proved successful if the hotel Magnificent had not cured his agony the service and the cooking there had at least done much to take his mind off it his heart still ached but he felt equal to going to London and seeing his father which of course he ought to have done immediately upon his arrival in England he rose from his bench and going back to the hotel to inquire about trains observed a familiar figure in the lobby Eustace Hignett was leaning over the counter in conversation with the desk clerk Hello Eustace! said Sam Hello Sam! said Eustace there was a brief silence the conversational opening had been a little unfortunately chosen for it reminded both men of a painful episode in their recent lives What are you doing here? asked Eustace What are you doing here? asked Sam I came to see you! said Eustace leading his cousin out of the lobby and onto the bleak Esplanade a fine rain had begun to fall and Bingley looked if possible worse than ever I asked you at your club and they told me what are you here? what did you want to see me about? fact is old man I'm a little bit of a hole what's the matter? it's rather a long story said Eustace depreciatingly go ahead I don't know where to begin have a dash at starting at the beginning Eustace stared gloomily at a stranded crab on the beach below the crab stared gloomily back well you remember my telling you about the girl I met on the boat Jane something Jane Hubbard said Eustace reverently Sam I love that girl I know you told me but I didn't tell her I tried to muster up the nerve but we got to Southampton without my having clicked what a dash difficult thing a proposal is to bring off isn't it I didn't bring it off and it began to look to me as though I was in the soup and then she told me something which gave me an idea she said the Bennets had invited her to stay with them in the country when she got to England old Mr Bennet and his pal Mortimer Bream's father were trying to get a house somewhere which they could share only so far they hadn't managed to find the house they wanted when I heard that I said ha you said what asked Sam I said ha why because I had an idea don't interrupt old man or you'll get me muddled where was I I don't know I remember I just got the idea I happen to know you see that Bennet and Mortimer were both frightfully keen on getting windles for the summer but my mother wouldn't hear of it and gave them both the missing bulk it suddenly occurred to me that mother was going to be away in America all the summer so why shouldn't I make a private deal let them the house and make it a stipulation that I was to stay there to look after things and to cut a long story short that's what I did you let windles yes old Bennet was down on the docket Southampton to meet Wilhelmina and I fixed it up with him then and there he was so bucked at the idea of getting the place that he didn't kick for a moment at the suggestion that I should stick on at the house said he would be delighted to have me there and wrote out a fat check on the spot we hired a car and drove straight over it's only about 20 miles from Southampton you know and we've been there ever since Bennet sent a wire to Mortimer telling him to join us and he came down next day he paused and looked at Sam as a desiring comment Sam had none to offer why do you say you're in a hole he asked it seems to me as though you've done yourself a bit of good you've got the check and you're in the same house with Miss Hubbard what more do you want but suppose mother gets to hear about it well she'd be soarer than a sunburnt neck probably why should she hear of it ah I'm coming to that is there more of the story quite a lot charge on said Sam, resignedly Eustace Hignett fixed a despondent gaze on the shingle up which the grey waves were crawling with their usual sluggish air of wishing themselves elsewhere a raindrop fell down the back of his neck but he did not notice it it was the weather that really started it he said started what the trouble what sort of weather have you been having here I haven't noticed well don't it wind all that's been raining practically all the time and after about a couple of days it became fairly clear to me that Bennet and Mortimer were getting a bit fed I mean to say having spent all their lives in America don't you know they weren't used to a country where it rained all the time and pretty soon it began to get on their nerves they started quarrelling nothing bad at first but potting up more and more till at last they were hardly on speaking terms every little thing that happened seemed to get the wind up them there was that business of Smith for instance who's Smith Mortimer's bulldog old Bennet is scared of him and wants him kept in the stables but Mortimer insists on letting him roam about the house well they scrapped a goodish bit about that and then there was the orchestralion you remember the orchestralion I haven't been down at windows since I was a kid that's right I forgot that well my painter had an orchestralion put in the drawing room one of these automatic things you switch on you know makes a devil of a row Bennet can't stand it and Mortimer insists on playing it all day well they hot it up a goodish bit over that well I don't see how all this affects you if they want to scrap why not let them yes but you see the most frightful thing has happened at least it hasn't happened yet but it may any day Bennet's talking about taking legal advice to see if he can't induce Mortimer to cheese it by law as it can't be stopped any other way and the juice of it is your father's Bennet's legal representative over in England and he's sure to go to him well that'll do painter a bit of good legal fees Eustace Hignett waved his arms despairingly at his cousins obtuseness but don't you see if Bennet goes to your father about this binge your father will get on to the fact that Wendles has been let and he'll knows about and make inquiries and the first thing that'll happen will be that mother will get to hear of it and then where shall I be Sam pondered yes there's that he admitted well now you see what a hole I'm in yes you are what are you going to do about it you're the only person who can help me what can I do why your father want you to join the firm doesn't he well for goodness sake back up and join it don't waste a minute dash up to London by the next train and sign on then if Bennet does blow in for advice you can fix it somehow that he sees you instead of your father and it'll be all right you can easily work it get the office boy or somebody to tell Bennet that you're engaged but that you're on the spot he won't mind as long as he sees somebody in the firm but I don't know anything about the law what shall I say to him that's all right I've been studying it up a bit as far as I can gather this legal advice business is quite simple anything that isn't a tort is a misdemeanor you've simply got to tell old Bennet that in your opinion the whole thing looks jolly like a tort what's the word again what does it mean I don't know probably nobody knows but it's a safe card to play, tort don't forget it tort right ho well then come along and pack your things there's a train to London in about an hour they walk back to the hotel Sam gulped once or twice oh by the way he said how is miss Bennet oh she's all right used as Hignet come to gay air Sam's ready acquiescence in his scheme had relieved his apprehensive mind going strong said Sam after a pause oh absolutely we're quite good friends again now no use being in the same house not being on speaking terms it's rummy how the passage of time sort of changes a fellow's point of view why when she told me about her engagement I congratulated her as cheerfully as dammit and only a few weeks ago her engagement exclaimed Sam leaping like a stricken blamange her engagement to bring more timber you know said used as Hignet she got engaged to him the day before yesterday end of chapter 8 recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org chapter 9 of three men and the maid this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org three men and a maid by PG Woodhouse chapter 9 the offices of the old established firm of Marlowe, Thorpe, Prescott, Winslow and Appleby are in rich ways in not far from Fleet Street if you're a millionaire beset by blackmailers or anyone else to whose comfort the best legal advice is essential and have decided to put your affairs in the hands of the ablest and discretest firm in London you proceed through a dark and grimy entry and up a dark and grimy flight of stairs and having felt your way along a dark and grimy passage you come at length to a dark and grimy door there is plenty of dirt in other parts of Ridgeways Inn but nowhere is it so plentiful so rich in alluvial deposits as on the exterior offices of Marlowe, Thorpe, Prescott, Winslow and Appleby as you tap on the top most of the geological strata concealing the ground glass of the door a sense of relief and security floods your being for in London grubbiness is the gauge of a lawyer's respectability the brass plate let into the woodwork of this door is misleading reading it you get the impression that on the other side a covey of lawyers await your arrival the name of the firm leads you to suppose that there will be barely standing room in the office you picture Thorpe jostling you aside as he makes for Prescott to discuss with him the latest case of de Murra and Winslow and Appleby treading on your toes deep in conversation about Repelvin but these legal firms dwindle the years go by and take their toll snatching away hear a Prescott there in Appleby till before you know where you are you're down to your last lawyer the only surviving member of the firm of Marlowe Thorpe what I said before was at the time with which this story deals Sir Malaby Marlowe son of the original founder of the firm and father of the celebrated black-faced comedian Samuel of that ilk and the outer office where callers were received and parked so that Mr. Malaby could find time for them was occupied by a single clerk when Sam reaching the office after his journey opened the door this clerk John Peters by name was seated on a high stool holding in one hand a half-eaten sausage in the other an extraordinarily large and powerful revolver at the sight of Sam he laid down both engines of destruction and beamed he was not a particularly successful beamer by a cast in one eye which gave him a truculent and sinister look but those who knew him knew he had a heart of gold and were not intimidated by his repellent face between Sam and himself there had always existed terms of cordiality starting from the time when the former was a small boy and it had been John Peters' mission to take him now to the zoo now to the train back to school why Mr. Samuel hello Peters we were expecting you back a week ago so you got back safe safe why of course Peters shook his head I confess that when there was this delay in your coming here I sometimes feared something might have happened to you I recall mentioning it to the young lady who recently did me the honour to promise to become my wife ocean liners aren't often wrecked nowadays I was thinking more of the brawls on shore America's a dangerous country but perhaps you were not in touch with the underworld I don't think I was ah said no Peters significantly he took up the revolver and gave it a fond and almost paternal look and replaced it on the desk what on earth are you doing with that thing ah Sam Mr. Peters lowered his voice I'm going to America myself for a few days time Mr. Samuel it's my annual holiday and the governor's sending me over with papers in connection with the people the Schultz and Bowen it's a big case over there a client of ours is mixed up in it an American gentleman I am to take these important papers to his legal representative in New York so I thought it best to be prepared the first smile that he had permitted himself in nearly two weeks flitted across Sam's face what sort of place do you think New York is he asked it's safer than London ah but what about the underworld I've seen these American films that they send over here Mr. Samuel every Saturday night regular I take my young lady to the cinema and I tell you they teach you something did you ever see the wolves of the Bowery there was a man in that in just my position carrying important papers and what they didn't try to do to him now I'm taking no chances Mr. Samuel I should have said you were looking that thing with you Mr. Peters seemed wounded oh I understand the mechanism perfectly and I am becoming a very fair shot I take my little bite of food in here early and go and practice at the Rupert Street Rifle Range during my lunch hour you'll be surprised how quickly one picks it up and when I get home at night I try how quick I can draw you have to draw like a flash of lightning Mr. Samuel if you'd ever seen a film called Two Gun Thomas you'd realize that you have time to be loitering about and I haven't agreed Sam here's my father in I'd like to see him if he's not busy Mr. Peters recalled to his professional duties shed his sinister front like a garment he picked up a speaking tube and blew down it Mr. Samuel to see you Mr. Ballaby yes sir very good we go right in Mr. Samuel Sam proceeded to the inner office and found his father dictating into the attentive ear of Miss Millican his elderly and respectable stenographer replies to his morning mail the grime which encrusted the lawyer's professional stamping ground did not extend to his person so Malaby Marlowe was a dapper little man with a round cheerful face and a bright eye his morning coat had been cut by London's best tailor and his trousers perfectly creased by a sedulous valet a pink carnation in his buttonhole matched his healthy complexion his golf handicap was twelve his sister Mrs. Horace Hignett considered him worldly yes sirs we are in receipt of your favor and reply beg to state that nothing will induce us will induce us where did I put that letter ah nothing will induce us oh tell them to go to blazes Miss Millican very well sir Malaby what's that ready messes Bingley gruel and Butterworth what infernal names these people have sirs on behalf of our client oh hello Sam good morning father take a seat I'm busy but I'll be finished in a moment where was I Miss Millican on behalf of our client oh yes on behalf of our client Mr. Wigglesby egg shore where these people get their names I'm hanged if I know your poor mother wanted to call you higher since Sam you may not know it but in the nineties when you were born children were frequently christened higher since well I saved you from that his attention was now diverted to his son so Malaby seemed to remember that the latter had just returned from a long journey and that he had not seen him for many weeks he inspected him with interest very glad to see your back Sam so you didn't win no I got beaten in the semifinals American amateurs are a very hot lot the best ones I suppose you're weak on the greens I warned you about that you'll have to rub up your putting before next year I had the idea that any mundane pursuit as practicing putting could appeal to his broken spirit now Sam uttered a bitter laugh it was as if Dante had recommended some lost soul in the inferno to occupy his mind by knitting jumpers well you seem to be in great spirits said sir Malaby approving me it's pleasant to hear your merry laugh again isn't it Miss Milliken extremely exhilarating agreed the stenographer adjusting her spectacles and smiling at Sam for whom there was a soft spot in her heart a sense of the futility of life oppressed Sam as he gazed in the glass that morning he had thought not without a certain gloomy satisfaction how remarkably pale and drawn his face looked and these people seemed to imagine that he was in the highest spirits his laughter which had sounded to him like a wailing of a demon struck Miss Milliken as exhilarating on behalf of our client Mr. Wigglesby egg shore said Sir Malaby swooping back to duty once more we beg to state that we are prepared to accept service sounds like a tennis match hey Sam it isn't though this young ass egg shore what time did you dock this morning I landed nearly a week ago a week ago then what the juice have you been doing with yourself why haven't I seen you I've been down at Bingley on the sea Bingley on earth we were doing in that godforsaken place wrestling with myself with dignity so Malaby's agile mind had leaped back to the letter which he was answering we should be glad to meet you wrestling eh well I like a boy to be fond of manly sports still life is in all athletics don't forget that life is real life is how does he go Miss Milliken Miss Milliken folded her hands and shut her eyes her invariable habit when called upon to recite life is real life is earnest and the grave is not its goal dust though art to dust returnest was not spoken of the soul art is long and time is fleeting and our hearts though stout and brave still like muffled drums are beating funeral marches to the grave lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime and departing leave behind us footsteps on the sands of time let us then said Miss Milliken respectfully be up and doing all right all right all right said Sir Malaby I don't want it all life is real life is earnest Sam I want to speak to you about that when I finished answering these infernal letters where was I we should be glad to meet you at any time if you will make an appointment Bingley on the sea good heavens why Bingley on the sea why not Margate while you were about it Margate is too bracing I did not wish to be braced Bingley suited my mood it was grey and dark and it rained all the time and the sea slunk about in the distance like some baffled beast he stopped becoming aware that his father was not listening Sir Malaby's attention had returned to the letter oh what's the good of answering the dash thing at all said Sir Malaby Bingley Ghoul and Butterworth know perfectly well that they have got us in a cleft stick Butterworth knows it better than Ghoul and Bingley knows it better than Butterworth this young fool egg sure Sam admits that he wrote the girls 23 letters 12 of them in verse and 21 specifically asking her to marry him and he comes to me and expects me to get him out of it the girl is suing him for 10,000 how like a woman Miss Millican bridled reproachfully at this slur on her sex Sir Malaby took no notice of it whatever if you will make an appointment then we can discuss the matter without prejudice get those type Miss Millican have a cigar Sam Miss Millican tell Peters as you go out that I'm occupied by the conference and can see nobody for half an hour when Miss Millican had withdrawn Sir Malaby occupied 10 seconds of the period which he had set aside for communion with his son in staring silently at him I'm glad you're back Sam he said at length I want to have a talk with you you know it's time you were settling down I've been thinking about you while you were in America and I've come to the conclusion that I have been letting you drift along very bad for a young man you're getting on I don't say you're senile but you're not 21 any longer and at your age I was working like a beaver you've got to remember that life is dash it I've forgotten it again he broke off and puffed vigorously into the speaking tube Miss Millican kindly repeat what you were saying just now about life yes yes that's enough he put down the instrument yes life is real life is earnest he said gazing at Sam seriously and the grave is not our goal lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime in fact it's time you took your coat off and started work I'm quite ready father you didn't hear what I said exclaimed Sam Malaby with a look of surprise I said it was time you began work and I said I was quite ready bless my soul you've changed your views of trifles since I saw you last I've changed them all together long hours of brooding among the red plush cities and the lounge of the hotel magnificent at Bingley on the sea had brought about this strange even morbid attitude of mind in Samuel Marlowe work he had decided even before his conversation with Eustace was the only medicine for his sick soul here he felt in this quiet office far from the tumult and noise of the world in a haven of torts of misdemeanors and Vic and I cap threes and all the rest of it he might find peace at any rate it was worth taking a stab at it your trip has done you good said Sam Malaby approving me the sea air has given you some sense I'm glad of it it makes it easier for me to say something else I've had in my mind for a good while Sam it's time you got married Sam barked bitterly his father looked at him with concern saw some smoke the wrong way I was laughing explained Sam with dignity so Malaby shook his head I don't want to discourage your high spirit but I must ask you to approach this matter seriously marriage would do you a world of good Sam it would brace you up you really ought to consider the idea I was two years younger than you are when I married your poor mother and it was the making of me a wife might make something of you impossible I don't see why she shouldn't there's lots of good in you my boy though you may not think so when I said it was impossible said Sam coldly I was referring to the impossibility of the possibility I mean that it was impossible that I could possibly in other words father I shall never marry my heart is dead your what? my heart don't be a fool there's nothing wrong with your heart all our family have had hearts like steam engines probably you have been feeling a sort of burning knock off cigars and apple soon stop you don't understand me I mean that a woman has treated me in a way that has finished her whole sex as far as I'm concerned for me women don't exist you didn't tell me about this said Sam Malaby interested when did this happen did she guilt you yes in America was it on the boat Sam Malaby chuckled heartily my dear boy you don't mean to tell me that you're taking a shipboard flirtation seriously why you're expected to fall in love with a different girl every time you're going on a voyage you'll get over this in a week you'd have got over it now if you hadn't gone and buried yourself in a depressing place like Bingley on the sea the whistle of the speaking tube blew so Malaby put the instrument to his ear all right he turned to Sam I shall have to send you away now Sam man waiting to see me goodbye Miss Millican intercepted Sam as he made for the door oh Mr Sam yes excuse me but will you be seeing Sam Malaby again today if so would you I don't like to disturb him now when he's busy would you mind telling him that I inadvertently omitted a stanza so Miss Millican closing her eyes trust no future how air pleasant let the dead past bury its dead act act in the living present heart within and God or head thank you so much good afternoon end of chapter 9 recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org chapter 10 of free men and the maid this is the LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org three men and a maid by Pidgey Woodhouse chapter 10 at about the time when Sam Marlow was having the momentous interview with his father described in the last chapter Mr Rufus Bennett woke from an afterlunch nap in Mrs Hignett's delightful old world mansion Wendles in the county of Hampshire he had gone to his room after lunch because there seemed nothing else to do it was still raining hard so that a ramble in the picturesque garden was impossible and the only alternative to sleep the society of Mr Henry Mortimer had become particularly distasteful to Mr Bennett much has been written of the great friendships between man and man friendships which neither woman can mar nor death destroy Rufus Bennett had always believed that his friendship for Mr Mortimer was of this order they had been boys together in the same small town and had kept together in after years they had been Damon and Pytheas David and Jonathan but never till now had they been cooped up together in an English country house in the middle of a bad patch of English summer weather so this afternoon Mr Bennett in order to avoid his life long friend had gone to bed he woke now with a start and a moment later realized what it was that had aroused him there was music in the air the room was full of it it seemed to be coming through the floor and rolling about in chunks all around his bed he blinked the last fragments of sleep out of his system and became filled with a restless irritability he rang the bell violently and presently there entered a grave thin intellectual man who looked like a duke only more respectable this was Webster Mr Bennett's English ballet is that Mr Mortimer? he barked as the door opened and no sir it is I Webster not even the annoyance of being summoned like this from an absorbing game of penny nap in the housekeeper's room had the power to make the bay careless of his grammar I fancied that I heard your bell ring sir I wonder you could hear anything with that infernal noise going on snap Mr Bennett is Mr Mortimer playing that damn gas engine in the drawing room yes sir toasty is goodbye a charming air sir charming air be tell him to stop it very good sir the ballet withdrew like a duke leaving the royal presence not actually walking backwards but giving the impression of doing so Mr Bennett lay in bed and fumed presently the ballet returned the music still continued to roll about the room I am sorry to inform you sir said Webster that Mr Mortimer declines to exceed to your request oh he said that did he that is the gist of his remark sir did you tell him I was trying to get to sleep yes sir I understood him to reply that he should worry and get a pain in the neck go down again and say that I insist on his stopping the thing it's an outrage very good sir in a few minutes Webster like the dove dispatched from the ark was back again I fear my mission has been fruitless sir Mr Mortimer appears adamant on the pointed issue you gave him my message I await him sir in reply Mr Mortimer desired me to tell you that if you did not like it you could do the other thing I quote the exact words sir he did did he yes sir very good Webster sir when is the next train to London I will ascertain sir Cook I believe has a timetable go and see then I want to know when Miss Wilhelmina to me very good sir somewhat consoled by the thought that he was taking definite action Mr Bennett lay back and waited for Billy I want you to go to London he said when she appeared to London why I'll tell you why said Mr Bennett vehemently because of that pest Mortimer I must have legal advice I want you to go and see Sir Malaby Marlowe here's his address tell him the whole story tell him that this man is annoying me in every possible way and ask if he can't be stopped if you can't see Sir Malaby himself see someone else in the firm go up to night so that you can see him first thing in the morning you can stop the night at the Savoy I've sent Webster to look out a train there's a splendid train in about an hour I'll take that giving you a lot of trouble said Mr Bennett with belated consideration oh no said Billy I'm glad to be able to do something for you Father dear this noise is a terrible nuisance isn't it you're a good girl said Mr Bennett End of Chapter 10 Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org Chapter 11 of Free Men and the Made this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information not a volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org Free Men and the Made by PG Woodhouse Chapter 11 That's right said Sir Malaby Marlowe work while you're young Sam work while you're young he regarded his son's bent head with affectionate approval What's the book today? Widgery on Nisi Prius Evidence said Sam without looking up Capital said Sir Malaby highly improving and as interesting as some novels there's a splendid bit on I think page 254 where the hero finds out all about copy hold and customary estates it's a wonderfully powerful situation it appears oh but I won't spoil it for you mind you don't skip to see how it all comes out in the end Sir Malaby suspended conversation while he addressed an imaginary ball with the mashy which he had taken out of his golf bag for this was the day when he went down to Walton Heath for his weekly foursome with three old friends his tubby form was clad in tweed of a violent nature with knickerbockers and stockings Sam well Sam a man at the club showed me a new grip the other day instead of overlapping the little finger of the right hand oh by the way Sam yes I should lock up the office today if I were you or anxious clients will be coming in and asking for advice and you'll find yourself in difficulties I shall be gone and Peters is away on his holiday you better lock the outer door alright said Sam absently he was finding Wigery stiff reading he had just got to a bit about wrap to hi-radis which as of course you know is a writ for taking away an air holding in socket Sir Malaby looked at his watch well I'll have to be going see you later Sam goodbye Sir Malaby went out and Sam placing both elbows on the desk and twining his fingers in his hair returned with a frown of concentration to his grappling with Wigery for perhaps 10 minutes the struggle was an even one then gradually Wigery got the upper hand Sam's mind numb by constant batterings against the stony ramparts of legal phraseology weakened faltered and dropped away and a moment later his thoughts as so often happened when he was alone darted off and began to circle around the image of Billy Bennett since they had last met Sam had told himself perhaps a hundred times that he cared nothing about Billy that she had gone out of his life and was dead to him but unfortunately he did not believe it a man takes a deal of convincing on a point like this and Sam had never succeeded in convincing himself for more than two minutes at a time it was useless to pretend that he did not still love Billy more than ever because he knew he did the truth swept over him for the hundred first time he groaned hollowly and gave himself up to the grey despair which is the almost inseparable companion of young men in his position so engrossed was he in his meditation that he did not hear the light footstep in the outer office and it was only when it was followed by a tap on the door of the inner office that he awoke with a start to the fact that clients were in his midst he wished that he had taken his father's advice and stopped the office probably this was some frightful bore who wanted to make his infernal will or something Sam had neither the ability nor the inclination to assist him was it too late to escape perhaps if he did not answer the knock the blighter might think there was nobody at home but suppose he opened the door and peeped in a spasm of Napoleonic strategy sees Sam he dropped silently to the floor and concealed himself under the desk there was another tap then as he had anticipated the door opened Sam crouched like a hare in its form held his breath it seemed to him that he was going to bring this delicate operation off with success he felt he had acted just as Napoleon would have done in a similar crisis so no doubt he had to a certain extent only Napoleon would have seen to it that his boots and about 18 inches of his trousered legs were not sticking out plainly visible to all who entered good morning said a voice Sam thrilled from the top of his head to the soles of his feet it was the voice which had been ringing in his ears through all his waking hours are you busy Mr. Marlowe asked Billy addressing the boots Sam wriggled out from under the desk like a disconcerted tortoise dropped my pen he mumbled as he rose to the surface he pulled himself with an effort that was like a physical exercise stared at Billy dumbly then recovering speech he invited to sit down and seated himself at the desk dropped my pen he gurgled again yes said Billy found in pen babbled Sam with a broad nib yes a broad gold nib went on Sam with the painful exactitude that comes only from embarrassment or the early stages of intoxication really? said Billy and Sam blinked and told himself resolutely that this would not do he was not appearing to advantage it suddenly occurred to him that his hair was standing on end as the result of his struggle with wiggery he smoothed it down hastily and felt a trifle more composed the old fighting spirit of the Marlowe's now began to assert itself to some extent he must make an effort to appear as little of a fool as possible in this girl's eyes what eyes they were golly like stars like two bright planets in however that was neither here nor there he pulled down his waistcoat and became cold and business like the dry young lawyer how do you do Miss Bennet? he said with a question at his voice raising his eyebrows in a professional way he modeled this performance on that of lawyers he had seen on the stage and wished he had some snuff to take or something to tap against his front teeth Miss Bennet I believe Billy drew herself up stiffly yes she replied how clever of you to remember me I have a good memory how nice so have I there was a pause during which Billy allowed her gaze to travel casually about the room Sam occupied the intermission by staring furtively at her profile he was by now in a thoroughly over wrought condition and the thumping of his heart sounded to him as if workmen were mending the street outside how beautiful she looked with that red hair peeping out beneath her hat and however is there anything I can do for you he asked in the sort of voice Wigery might have used Sam always pictured Wigery as a small man with bushy eyebrows a thin face and a voice like a rusty file but I really wanted to see some alibi my father has been called away on important business at Walton Heath cannot I act as his substitute do you know anything about the law do I know anything about the law echoed Sam amazed do I know why I was reading my Wigery on Nisey Prius evidence when you came in oh were you said Billy interested do you always read on the floor I told you I dropped my pen said Sam coldly and of course you couldn't read without that well as a matter of fact this has nothing to do with Nisey what you said I have not specialised exclusively on Nisey Prius evidence I know the law in all its branches then what would you do if a man insisted on playing your Kestrian when you wanted to get to sleep your Kestrian yes your Kestrian eh ah hmm said Sam eh said Billy I was thinking oh if you want to think tell me the facts said Sam well Mr Mortimer and my father have taken a house together in the country and for some reason or other they have quarrelled and now Mr Mortimer is doing everything he can to make my father uncomfortable yesterday afternoon father wanted to sleep and Mr Mortimer started his Kestrian just to annoy him I think that's a tort said Sam a what either a tort or a misdemeanor why you do know something about it after all cried Billy, startled into a sort of friendliness in spite of herself and at the words and the sight of her quick smile Sam's professional composure reeled on its foundations he had half risen with the purpose of springing up and babbling of the passion that consumed him when the chill reflection came to him but this girl had once said that she considered him ridiculous if he let himself go would she not continue to think him ridiculous he sagged back into his seat and at that moment there came another tap on the door which opening revealed the sinister face of the holiday making Peters oh good morning Mr Samuel said no Peters good morning Miss Millican oh he vanished as abruptly as he had appeared that what he had taken at first glance for the stenographer was a client and that the junior partner was engaged in a business conference he left behind him a momentary silence what a horrible looking man said Billy raking it with a little gasp do you know Peters often affected the opposite sex like that at first sight how big a pardon said Sam absently what a dreadful looking man he quite frightened me for some moments Sam sat without speaking if this had not been one of his Napoleonic mornings no doubt the sudden arrival of his old friend Mr Peters whom he had imagined at his home in Putney packing for his trip to America would have suggested nothing to him as it was it suggested a great deal he had had a brainwave and for fully a minute he sat tingling under its impact he was not a young man who often had brainwaves and when they came they made him rather dizzy who is he asked Billy he seems to know you and who she demanded after a slight pause is Miss Millican Sam drew a deep breath it's rather a sad story he said his name is John Peters he used to be Clark here but isn't he any longer no Sam shook his head we had to get rid of him I don't wonder a man looking like that it wasn't that so much said Sam the thing that annoyed father was that he tried to shoot Miss Millican Billy uttered a cry of horror he tried to shoot Miss Millican he did shoot her the third time said Sam warming to his work only in the arm fortunately he added but my father is rather a stern disciplinarian and he had to go I mean we couldn't keep him after that good gracious she used to be my father's sternographer and she was thrown a good deal with Peters it was quite natural that he should fall in love with her she was a beautiful girl with rather your own shade of hair Peters is a man of volcanic passions and when after she had given him to understand that his love was returned she informed him one day that she was engaged to a fellow at Ealing West he went right off his onion I mean he became completely distraught he concealed it very effectively at first we had no inkling of his condition till he came in with the pistol and after that well as I say we had to dismiss him great pity for he was a good clerk still he wouldn't do it wasn't only that he tried to shoot Miss Millican that wouldn't have mattered as much as she left after his third attempt and got married but the thing became an obsession with him and we found that he had a fixed idea that the person who came into the office was the girl who had deceived him you can see how awkward that made it red hair is so fashionable nowadays why hair is red whispered really pallidly yes I noticed it myself I told you it was much the same shade as Miss Millican's it's rather fortunate that I happened to be here with you when he came but he may be lurking out there still I expect he is yes I suppose he is would you like me to go and send him away all right but is it safe Sam uttered a light laugh I don't mind taking a risk or two for your sake he said and sauntered from the room closing the door behind him Billy followed him with worshiping eyes Joe Peters rose politely from the chair in which he had seated himself for a more comfortable perusal of the copy of Home Whispers which he had brought with him to refresh his mind in the event of the firm being too busy to see him immediately he was particularly interested in the series of chats with young mothers hello Peters said Sam want anything very sorry to have disturbed you Mr Samuel I just looked in to say goodbye I sail on Saturday and my time will be pretty fully taken up all the week I have to go down to the country to get some final instructions from the client whose important papers I'm taking over I'm sorry to have missed your father Mr Samuel yes this is golf day I'll tell him you looked in is there anything I can do before I go do well do you know Peters cough tactfully I see that you were engaged with the client Mr Samuel and I was wondering if any little point of law had arisen with which you did not feel yourself quite capable of coping in that case I might perhaps be of assistance oh that lady said Sam that is Miss Millican's sister indeed I did not know Miss Millican had a sister no said Sam she's not very like her in appearance now this one is the beauty of the family I believe and very bright intelligent girl I was telling her about your revolver just before you came in she was most interested it's a pity you haven't got it with you now to show her oh would I have I have Mr Samuel said Peters opening a small handbag and taking out a him book six chocolates a tongue sandwich and the pistol in the order named I was on my way to the Rupert Street range for a little practice I should be glad to show it to her well wait here a minute or two said Sam I'll have finished talking business in a moment he returned to the inner office well oh he's gone said Sam I persuaded him to go away he was a little excited poor fellow and now let us return to what we were talking about you say he broke off for the next commotion glanced at his watch good heavens I had no idea at the time I promised to run up and see a man in one of the offices in the next court he wants to consult me on some difficulty which has arisen with one of his clients rightly or wrongly he values my advice can you spare me for a short while I shan't be more than ten minutes certainly here is something you may care to look at while I'm gone I don't know if you read it Wigery on Nissy Prius evidence most interesting he went out Zeno Peter looked up from his home whispers you can go in now said Sam certainly Mr. Samuel certainly Sam took up the copy of Home Whispers and sat down with his feet on the desk he turned to the serial story and began to read the synopsis in the inner room Billy who had rejected the mental refreshment offered by Wigery was engaged in making a tour of the office looking at the portraits of whiskered men whom she took correctly to be the Thorps Prescott's, Winslow's and Applebee's mentioned on the contents bill outside was surprised to hear the door open at her back she had not expected Sam to return so instantaneously nor had he done so it was not Sam who entered it was a man of repellent aspect whom she recognized instantly Forge no Peters was one of those men who once seen are not easily forgotten he was smiling a cruel, cunning smile at least she thought he was Mr. Peters himself was under the impression that his face was wreathed in a benevolent simper and in his hand he bore the largest pistol ever seen outside a motion picture studio How do you do Miss Millican he said End of Chapter 11 Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org Chapter 12 of Three Men and the Made This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information not a volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Tim Bulkley of BigBible.org Three Men and the Made by P. G. Woodhouse Chapter 12 Billy had been standing near the wall inspecting a portrait of the late Mr. Josiah Applebee the kindest thing one can say is that one hopes it did not do him justice she now shrank back against this wall as if she were trying to get through it the edge of the portrait's frame tilted her hat out of the straight but in this supreme moment she did not even notice it How do you do she said if she had not been an exceedingly pretty girl one would have said that she spoke squeakily the fighting spirit of the Bennets though it was considerable fighting spirit had not risen to this emergency it had ebbed out of her leaving in its place a cold panic she had seen this sort of thing in the movies there was one series of pictures the dangers of Diana where something of the kind had happened to the heroine in every reel but she had not anticipated that it would ever happen to her and consequently she had not thought out any plan for coping with such a situation a grave error in this world one should be prepared for everything or where is one the best she could do was to stand and stare at the intruder it would have done San Marlo good he had now finished the synopsis and was skimming through the current instalment if he could have known how she yearned for his return I brought the revolver said Mr Peters so, so I see said Billy Mr Peters nursed the weapon affectionately in his hand he was rather a shy man with women as a rule but what Sam had told him about her being interested in his revolver had made his heart warm to this girl I was just on my way to have a little practice at the range he said then I thought I might as well look in here I suppose I suppose you're a good shot quavered Billy I seldom miss Billy shuddered then reflecting that the longer she engaged this maniac in conversation the more hope there was of Sam coming back in time to save her she assayed for the small talk it's very ugly oh no said Mr Peters, hurt Billy perceived that she had said the wrong thing very deadly looking I mean she corrected herself hastily may have deadly work to do Miss Millican said Mr Peters the conversation languished again Billy had no further remarks to make of immediate interest and Mr Peters was struggling with a return of the deplorable shyness which had so handicapped him in his dealings with the other sex after a few moments he pulled himself together again and as his first act was to replace the pistol in the pocket of his coat Billy became conscious of a faint stirring of relief, the great thing said you know Peters is to learn to draw quickly like this he added producing the revolver with something of the smoothness and rapidity with which Billy in happier moments had seen conjurers take a bowl of goldfish out of a tall hat everything depends on getting the first shot the first shot Miss Millican is vital suddenly Billy had an inspiration it was hopeless she knew to try to convince this poor demented creature obsessed with his idae feaks that she was not Miss Millican denial would be a waste of time and might even infuriate him into precipitating the tragedy it was imperative that she should humour him and while she was humouring him it suddenly occurred to her why not do it thoroughly Mr Peters she cried you are quite mistaken I beg your pardon said no Peters with not a little asperity nothing of the kind you are huh I assure you I am not quickness in the draw is essential you have been misinformed well I had it directly from the man at the Roop Street range said Mr Peters stiffly and if you had ever seen a picture called two gun Thomas Mr Peters cried Billy desperately he was making a head swim with his meaningless ravings Mr Peters hear me he was married to a man at Ealing West Mr Peters betrayed no excitement at the information this girl seemed for some reason to consider her situation an extraordinary one but many women he was aware were in a similar position in fact he could not at the moment think of any of his feminine acquaintances who were married to men at Ealing West indeed he said politely won't you believe me exclaimed Billy wildly why certainly certainly said no Peters thank God said Billy I'm not even engaged it's all been a terrible mistake when two people in a small room are speaking on two distinct and quite different subjects and neither knows what on earth the other is driving at there is bound to be a certain amount of mental confusion but at this point no Peters though still not only equal to the intellectual pressure of the conversation he began to see a faint shimmer of light behind the clouds in a nebulous kind of way he began to understand that the girl had come to consult the firm about a breach of promise action some unknown man at Ealing West have been trifling with her heart hardened lawyers clark as he was that poignant cry I'm not engaged had touched Mr Peters and she wished to start proceedings Mr Peters felt almost in his depth again he put the revolver in his pocket and drew out a notebook I should be glad to hear the facts he said with a professional courtesy in the absence of the governor I have told you the facts this man at Ealing West said Mr Peters moist the point of his pencil he wrote you letters proposing marriage no no no at any rate said Mr Peters disappointed but hopeful he made love to you before witnesses never never there is no man at Ealing West there never was a man at Ealing West it was at this point that no Peters began for the first time to entertain serious doubts of the girl's mental balance the most elementary acquaintance with the latest census was enough to tell him that there were any number of men at Ealing West the place was full of them would a sane woman have made an assertion to the contrary that he had the revolver with him she had done nothing as yet actively violent but it was nice to feel prepared he took it out and laid it nonchalantly in his lap the sight of the weapon acted on Billy electrically she flung out her hands in a gesture of passionate appeal and played her last card I love you! she cried she wished she could have remembered his first name in such a moment she could hardly call him Mr. Peters you're the only man I love my gracious goodness ejaculated Mr. Peters and nearly fell over backwards for a naturally shy man this sudden and wholly unexpected declaration was disconcerting and the clerk was moreover engaged he blushed violently and yet even in that moment of consternation he could not check a certain thrill no man ever thinks he is as homely as he really is but no Peters had always come fairly near to a correct estimate of his charms and it always seemed to him that in inducing his fiancé to accept him he had gone some he now began to wonder if he were not really rather a devil of a chap after all there must he felt beprecious few men going about capable of inspiring the potion like this on the strength of about six and a half minutes of casual conversation calmer thoughts succeeded this little flicker of complacency the girl was mad that was the fact of the matter he got up and began to edge towards the door Mr. Samuels will be returning shortly and he ought to be warned so that's all right isn't it said Billy oh quite quite said Mr. Peters thank you very much you would be pleased said Billy relieved but puzzled for a man of volcanic passions as Sam Marlowe had described him he seemed to be taking the thing very calmly she had anticipated a strenuous scene oh it's a great compliment Mr. Peters assured her at this point Sam came in interrupting the conversation at a moment when it had reached a somewhat difficult stage he had finished the installment of the serial story in Home Whispers in his watch he fancied that he had allowed sufficient time to elapse for events to have matured along the lines which his imagination had indicated the atmosphere of the room seemed to him as he entered a little strained Billy looked pale and agitated Mr. Peters looked rather agitated too Sam caught Billy's eye it had an unspoken appeal in it he gave an imperceptible nod a reassuring nod the nod of a man who understood all Sam was prepared to handle the situation come Peters he said in a deep firm quiet voice laying a hand on the clock's arm it's time that you went yes indeed Mr. Samuel yes indeed I'll see you out said Sam soothingly and led him through the outer office and onto the landing outside well good luck Peters he said as they stood at the head of the stairs I hope you have a pleasant trip oh what's the matter you seem upset that girl Mr. Samuel I really think really she cannot be quite right in her head nonsense nonsense said Sam firmly she's all right well goodbye goodbye Mr. Samuel when did you say you were sailing next Saturday Mr. Samuel but I fear I should have no opportunity of seeing you again before then I have packing to do in the country all right then we'll say goodbye now goodbye Peters mind you have a good time in America I'll tell my father you called Sam watched him out of sight down the stairs then turned and made his way back to the inner office Billy was sitting limply on the chair which no Peters had occupied she sprang to her feet has he really gone yes he's gone this time was he a little but I calmed him down he looked at her gravely thank God I was in time oh you are the bravest man in the world cried Billy and burying her face in her hands burst into tears there there there there come come it's all right now there there there he knelt down beside her he slipped one arm round her waist he patted her hands I've tried to draw Samuel Marlowe so that he will live on in the printed page I have endeavoured to delineate his character so that it will be an open book and if I have succeeded in my task the reader will by now have become aware that he was a young man with the gall of an army mule his conscience if he had ever had one had become atrophied through long this use he had given this sensitive girl the worst fright she had ever had as a mouse that got into her bedroom at school he had caused no Peters to totter off to the Rupert Street range making low bleeding noises and did he care no all he cared about was the fact that he had erased forever from Billy's mind that undignified picture of himself as he had appeared on the boat and substituted another which showed him brave resourceful gallant all he cared about was the fact that Billy so cold ten minutes before had allowed him to kiss her for the forty second time if you had asked him he would have said that he had acted for the best that it was out of evil cometh good or some sickening thing like that that was the sort of man Samuel Marlowe was his face was very close to Billy's who had cheered up wonderfully by this time and he was whispering his degraded words of sentiment into her ear when there was a sort of explosion in the doorway great Godfrey exclaimed Mr. Rufus Bennett gazing on the scene from this point of vantage and mopping with a large handkerchief a scarlet face which as the result of climbing three flights of stairs had become slightly soluble great heavens above end of chapter 12 recording by Tim Bulkley of bigbible.org