And Berry Came Too (26 page)

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Authors: Dornford Yates

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“In
what
?”

“Prison,” said Berry. “You know. Captivity. Bondage. Well, I was sitting there in my cell, when—”

“What were you in prison for?”

“Felony,” said Berry. “Never mind. I was sitting there in my cell, when—”

“Sir,” said Miss Weigh, rising, “I have been most grossly deceived. I was given to understand that this was a respectable house. Had I entertained the faintest idea—”

My sister was on her feet.

“It was all a mistake,” she said. “My husband—”

“Madam,” said Miss Weigh, “I have heard that explanation before. But never before have I witnessed such a callous and brutal indifference to the stigma most people attach—”

“But I tell you—”

“Your husband, madam, has told me more than enough.” My sister sat down. “Kindly order my car at once – and my things to be packed.” Daphne nodded to Falcon, who left the room. “At Brooch, no doubt, I can find an honest hotel.”


The Fountain
,” said Berry, rising, “is irreproachable. If you mention my name—”

“I hope,” said Miss Weigh, with great violence, “that I should be turned from their doors.”

“I don’t think you would,” said Berry. “You see, if you’d let me explain—”

“I blame myself,” said Miss Weigh. “The moment I saw you, I ought to have left the house. The impression I formed of you at Warfare was most unfavourable.”

“Yes, I – I gathered that,” said Berry, “from what you said at the time.”

“Don’t you dare,” said Miss Weigh, “to answer me back. My mission has brought me in touch with the vilest of the vile, but not one of them has ever before presumed to abuse my confidence.”

“In other words,” said Berry, “they never had the pleasure of entertaining you.”

“Such hospitality,” said Miss Weigh, “is an insult. I do not sit down with social outcasts, however rich the table which, doubtless, their acquaintance with crime has enabled them to spread.”

“Madam,” said Berry, “you have the wrong sow by the ear. If you will permit my wife or me to explain—”

“Silence,” said Miss Weigh.

My brother-in-law bowed.

“Whilst accepting your ruling,” he said, “that a certain subject is barred, I trust you will allow me to regret your decision to leave this house, thus cutting short an acquaintance which, in spite of recent indications to the contrary, I shall always believe to have been big with promise.”

“Sir?” gasped Miss Weigh.

“A very Canaan of the soul,” continued my brother-in-law. “I represent the dregs of one sex, you the cream of another. Caliban and Ariel hob-nobbing… What tasty and succulent fruit might not so rare a relation have brought forth? I have, of course, learned of you. The garbage of my mind has been stirred: the cess-pool of my imagination has been troubled: and had I been able to develop the truths which, to the best of an ability so meagre as to be almost imperceptible, I was attempting to expose, I believe it to be within the bounds of possibility that you in your turn would have gone not altogether empty away. Since, however, you feel unable any longer to support the demands which a presence such as mine must inevitably make upon a nature as sensitive as yours, our pretty dreams must be abandoned, our sportive gambols upon the flowery fields of reason must be forgone. Be that as it may, I beg you to believe that age will not wither the, er, mental stimulus which I have derived from our communion, so unhappily about to be dissolved, and I venture to express the hope, but without much confidence, that while you have been within my gates such creature comforts as my establishment has been able to offer have been entirely to your convenience.”

Bristling with indignation, Miss Weigh surveyed Berry, much as a goose might survey a presumptuous toad.

“I have yet to learn,” she declared, “that it is incumbent upon me to acknowledge entertainment which only a brazen reprobate would have allowed me to accept. I do not consort with convicts. And such of those unfortunate beings as I have addressed have never dared to approach that unbridgeable gulf which an innate sense of decency tells them is fixed between repute and degradation.”

In the silence which followed the butler re-entered the room.

I do not know what it was that made me look at him twice. His manner was faultless as ever, but – well, I have grown up with Falcon and I was immediately aware that he was the prey of an excitement which he could hardly suppress. I decided that, after all, this was natural enough. His master had been grossly insulted – by the stranger within his gates.

“The car is at the door, madam.”

Miss Weigh bowed ponderously to Daphne, ostentatiously threw up her head, and turned on her heel.

I nodded to Berry and, as she made for the door, I fell in behind.

Dacre was standing in the hall, with a wrap in her hand. As she set it about Miss Weigh’s shoulders, William swung open the great front door of the house.

Miss Weigh passed impressively out.

As I followed, I saw two cars.

By one stood Fitch, our chauffeur. By the other were standing three men, one of whom was an inspector of police.

As Miss Weigh was approaching her car, he stepped to her side.

“Theresa Weigh?” he said bluntly.

Miss Weigh looked him up and down.

“That,” she said, “is my name.”

“In that case I hold a warrant for your arrest. Dangerous driving and obstructing the police on the 25th of June last at Relish in the County of Wiltshire. A summons was applied for and issued which you ’ave consistently disobeyed. Consequently—”

“Stand back,” said Miss Weigh. “I know nothing of man-made laws.”

“I warn you that anything you say is liable to be taken down and used in evidence against you. Kindly enter that car: we’ve got your suitcase inside.”

“You tin-pot tyrant,” said Miss Weigh, “you—”

“Now don’t take on,” said the other. His two companions closed in. “It’ll only make matters worse. If the Bench sits tomorrow, you’ll only ’ave one night in jail. An’ it isn’t our fault, you know. If you ’adn’t ignored—”

Miss Weigh struck him full in the face…

And there I turned my back on a scene which was bound to be sordid, which I shall always believe that Justice herself had set.

As may be believed, my news was received with a delirious enthusiasm which swiftly developed into an exuberant ecstasy of jubilation.

For two minutes we let ourselves go.

Perdita, Jill and Berry were performing a
pas de trois
which is not in the books: halfway between laughter and tears, my sister was hanging upon me, imploring me to repeat the deathless epilogue: and Jonah and I, bent double, were recalling the shortcomings of Relish to whose court he had gone as a witness six months before.

We fled to resume our seats, as the servants re-entered the room.

“The lady gone, Falcon?” said Berry.

“Yes, sir,” said Falcon.

“And her – her escort.”

He hesitated.

“I said I hadn’t witnessed any – any fracas, but they wouldn’t take ‘no’ from Fitch: and William had to help the inspector, so if they should call upon him, I’m afraid he can’t hardly refuse.”

“Help him?”

“Only afterwards, sir. He – he’d injured his nose, I believe. Not seriously, sir. And William brought him a sponge.”

“I see. And the lady’s car?”

“That has gone, sir. One of the, er, executive took it – so I believe.”

“Sunk without trace,” said Berry. “What a very beautiful thought.” He pointed to the place at his side. “Er, remove those baubles, will you? And then let’s have some champagne.”

From that time on, the meal was a festival, and when the cloth had been drawn, my cousin, Jonathan Mansel, got to his feet.

“I give you Berry,” he said, and lifted his glass. “God knows he has his faults, but I’m very sure you’ll agree that his performance this evening was more than masterly. The music he faced was frightful: yet he never made one mistake, and for me he has added a really brilliant chapter to ‘the way of a man with a maid.’”

When the acclamation had died, my brother-in-law rose to reply.

“We shall,” he said, “remember today. It began with the disclosure of the repulsive fact that between us we are the poorer by fourteen hundred pounds – due partly to a generosity which I shall always consider to have been uncalled for, and partly to the unconscionable avarice of the fly-blown lepers in whom I had put my trust. It went on to the, er, rise and fall of that most remarkable woman, Theresa Weigh. As you know, she swam into my sphere this afternoon: and, though our communion at Warfare was not only one-sided but brief, I had barely recovered from the, er, energy of her attentions when I learned that a still higher honour was to be thrust upon me. As you saw, she is difficult to please. Indeed, I am prepared to submit that fellowship, as we understand the word, with a lady of her outlook and, er, design, to whom reason is the foulest intolerance and courtesy a bestial affront, could only be effectively achieved by a man of the capacity of Attila: but I am equally ready to believe that, if she was still alive at the end of twenty-four hours, their lively appreciation of each other’s attributes would result in an
entente
of almost passionate cordiality.” Here Jonah, playing butler, recharged his glass. “But that is, of course, by the way, for if she bade fair to disorder an existence which had done her no harm, we may comfort ourselves with the reflection that for the next few hours her own vile being will be itself disordered to an incredible extent. Indeed, if we may believe Falcon, one of the officers of justice had been suffering from epistaxis or bleeding of the nose, and, while no one knows better than I that that organ delights to select the most inconvenient moments for its relief, in the present case I am frankly disposed to attribute its activity to the striking physique of the lady whom the officer in question had been commanded to arrest. If I am right, I fear that such battery will find but little favour in the eyes of the justiciaries before whom she must inevitably appear, and, should she adopt to them the somewhat critical attitude of which, from time to time, I was vouchsafed a glimpse, I think it more than likely that she will be compelled, owing to circumstances over which she has no control, to cancel her more immediate engagements. One might have been forgiven for thinking that these things had been sufficient unto this day, but I cannot forget that Perdita’s place will be empty at this hour tomorrow night. It is appropriate that I should commend her, for by reason of my bitter portion I am particularly qualified to appraise her virtue.”

“What bitter portion?” said Jill, suspiciously.

“Enough,” said Berry, “that it has been alleviated. When I have trembled for the well-being of those who would presume to be my censors, when the sewers of ignorance have been opened and the soak-pits of execration emptied upon this venerable head—”

“When was all this?” said Daphne.

“It comes and goes,” said her husband, hastily. “Perdita will know what I mean. As I was saying, at these unhappy moments I have been fortified as much by the consideration of her bodily charms as by the reflection that beyond the slough of incoherence in which the poor fools rout, there has been standing a darling with sympathy in her eyes for the prophet the baboons have bespattered—”

“I insist,” said Daphne, “upon knowing to whom you refer.”

“To the wicked,” said Berry. “You know. The—”

“What wicked?”

“Now look here,” said Berry. “I’m in the middle of proposing a precious toast. If—”

“You’re not,” said Jill. “You’re simply calling us names.”

“There you are,” said Berry. “The lie direct. I seek to lay my homage at the beautiful feet of our guest, only to be b-bludgeoned with insult and—”

“That’s a good one,” said Daphne. “What about the ‘bespattering baboons?’ You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“I must decline,” said Berry, loftily, “to continue a discussion which would be ludicrous, if it were not indecent. Instead, let me give you the health of a beauty I shall always remember with all my heart if only for the startling contrast her excellence affords to that distressing atmosphere of imperfection which is, as you know, my cross – the gaseous propensity of three or four slow b – bellies.”

With that, before we could stop him, he raised his glass, and, since we could scarcely decline to honour the toast, we were forced to subscribe to a suggestion which I shall always maintain was unnecessarily provocative.

But Nemesis was at hand. With a foresight, born of experience, Jonah had laid a lump of ice on his chair; and on Berry’s resuming his seat, he sat down not only on this but in the small pool of ice-water which the length of his speech had enabled the berg to create.

The result may be imagined, but hardly described. With a yelp of dismay, our critic leapt into the air, palms clapped to the scene of the outrage, accusation looking out of his eyes.

“Yes?” said Jonah, encouragingly.

My brother-in-law drew himself up.

“‘There’s a
vulgarity
,’” he said, “‘that
slakes
our ends,
Endue
them how we will.’”

For which we forgave him everything.

The next day, at a quarter past one, I handed Perdita over to Mrs Boyte. This, as was right, at Cock Feathers, where the two were to spend some days before they took ship.

After lunch we all strolled in the garden, rich with the clean-cut magic of immemorial yew and an ancient, emerald vesture which once was turf.

Then Mrs Boyte grew lazy and made excuse…

For a short half hour we sat at the foot of the sundial, remembering pretty things, with the world to ourselves. And then I glanced at my watch – and found it was time to be gone.

For the last time I looked at my lady – and felt refreshed.

Sitting sideways, as children do, one brown arm propping her up, her slim, silk stockings sheer sculpture against the cloth of the grass, she seemed to me to embody the maidenhood which belonged to the Golden Age. There was nothing common about her: from soft hair to delicate foot, she was exceptional. Her features, limbs and body did one another honour, because they were all so fine, and the eager spirit which dwelt in this lovely flesh, which leaped in the light of her eyes and the flash of her smile, declared her a true king’s daughter, ‘all glorious within’.

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