Full Moon (21 page)

In supposing that by climbing down the water pipe he had outsmarted Colonel Wedge Bill had been laughably in error. You might outsmart captains by such tactics, and perhaps majors, but not colonels. The possibility of the existence of such a pipe had flashed upon Egbert Wedge at the moment when Charles, enjoying himself for the first time, for every footman likes smashing his employer's property, had started to break down Prudence's door, and it had sent him racing for the stairs. You do not have to tell a military man anything about the importance of cutting off the enemy's retreat.

His first emotion on beholding the group before him was a stern joy mingled with cordial appreciation of his cleverness and foresight; his second a strong feeling of relief that he had got his service revolver with him. Seen at close range, this marauding blighter looked an unpleasantly tough marauding blighter, the very type of marauding blighter for whose undoing you need all the service revolvers you can get. He found himself marvelling that Edwin Pott had had the intrepidity to engage in hand-to-hand combat so extraordinarily well-nourished a specimen of the criminal classes, and immediately decided that he personally was not going to do anything so damn silly.

'Hands up, you feller!' he cried, opening the proceedings at a
comfortable distance. He had intended to say 'scoundrel', but the word had escaped him in the heat of the moment.

'Ar car har,' said Edwin Pott rather smugly, and Colonel Wedge, who was something of a linguist, correctly understanding him to have explained that it was he who had cotched the miscreant, gave credit where credit was due.

'Smart work, Pott,' he said. 'Right ho, Pott, stand aside. I'm going to march him up to the house.'

Although he had anticipated some such development, Bill could not restrain a cry.

'Silence!' barked Colonel Wedge in his parade voice. 'Right-about turn, quick march, and don't try any of your larks. This revolver's loaded.'

With an imperious gesture he motioned Bill to precede him, and Bill, feeling that any show of disinclination on his part would be classed by this severe critic under the head of trying larks, did so. Colonel Wedge followed, his weapon at the ready, and Edwin Pott, in his capacity of principal witness for the prosecution, brought up the rear. The procession moved round the corner of the house and approached the terrace.

The Hon. Galahad was standing on the terrace, apparently in a reverie. He looked up as they drew near, having become aware of Edwin Pott, from whose direction a light breeze was blowing. At the sight of Bill, the revolver, the colonel, and the pig man, a surprised expression came into his face. He had been wondering what had become of his young friend, but he had never expected that anything like this had happened to him.

'Good Lord, Bill,' he ejaculated, screwing his monocle more tightly into his eye. 'What's all this?'

Colonel Wedge was surprised in his turn. He had not known that burglars moved in such influential circles.

'Bill? Do you know this frightful chap?'

'Know him? Many a time I've dandled him on my knee.'

'You couldn't have done,' said Colonel Wedge, running his eye over Bill's substantial frame. 'There wouldn't have been room.'

'When he was a baby,' explained Gally.

'Oh, when he was a baby? You mean you knew him as a baby?'

'Intimately'

'What sort of baby was he?'

'Delightful.'

'Well, he's changed a lot since then,' said Colonel Wedge, breaking the bad news regretfully. 'He's become the most ghastly outsider. Burgles houses at six o'clock in the evening.'

'Ar car har,' said Edwin Pott.

'Pott cotched him,' translated the colonel. 'The chap was sliding down a water pipe.'

Bill felt it time to put in a word.

'I wanted to find Prue, Gally. I saw her standing on a balcony, and I went and fetched a ladder.'

'Quite right,' said Gally approvingly. 'Did you have a nice talk?'

'She wasn't there. But she had left a letter for me. It's all right, Gally. She still loves me.'

'So she gave me to understand when I was chatting with her. Well, that's fine.'

Enlightenment had come upon Colonel Wedge. 'Good God! Is this the chap Hermione was telling me about?'

'Yes, this is Prue's demon lover.'

'Well, I'm dashed. I took him for a burglar. I'm sorry.'

'Not at all,' said Bill.

'Afraid you must have thought me a bit abrupt just now.'

'No, no,' said Bill. 'Quite all right.'

Colonel Wedge found himself in something of a quandary. A romantic at heart, his wife's revelations of the tangled love affair of his niece Prudence had left him sensible of a sneaking sympathy for the young man of her choice. Unpleasant it must have been for the chap, he felt, to have his bride whisked away on the wedding morning and kept in storage under lock and key. Not the sort of thing he would have liked himself. He was also an admirer of spirit in the young of the male sex, and Bill's thrustful policy in the matter of ladders and water pipes appealed to him.

On the other hand, he was a loyal husband and he knew that his wife felt very strongly on the subject of the fellow. Not once but many times she had spoken of him in terms which left no room for misunderstanding.

'Do you know, Gally,' he said, 'I think I'll be popping off. I don't want to be mixed up with this. See what I mean?'

The Hon. Galahad saw what he meant and thought his policy prudent.

'Yes, no need for you to stick around, Egbert. Buzz off. And,' he added, indicating Edwin Pott, who had withdrawn respectfully into the background until his offices as a witness should be required, 'take that odoriferous gargoyle with you. I've something to say to Bill in private.'

Colonel Wedge strode off, followed by Edwin Pott, and a grave look came into Gally's face.

'Bill,' he began, 'I'm sorry to tell you that a rather unfortunate thing has happened. Oh, blast it,' he broke off, for he saw that they were about to be interrupted.

Tipton Plimsoll had appeared on the terrace.

'There's someone coming,' he said, jerking an explanatory thumb.

Bill looked round. And as he saw the tall, thin chap who had so signally fallen short at their last meeting in hospitality and indeed in the first principles of humanity, his face darkened. His was as a rule a mild and equable nature, but Tipton's behaviour on that occasion had aroused his indignation. He wanted a word with him.

'Hi!' he said, advancing.

There had crept into Tipton Plimsoll's face a sudden expression of grim determination. It was the sort of look you might have seen on the faces of the Light Brigade when the order came to charge. He had not thought of it before, but it came to him now that there was a special technique which knowledgeable people employed with phantoms. They walked through them. He had read stories where fellows had done this, and always with the happiest results. The phantoms, realizing that they had run up against something hot, faltered, lost their nerve, and withdrew from the unequal contest.

If there had been any other avenue to a peaceful settlement, he would have taken it, for it was a thing he was not at all anxious to do. But there seemed no alternative. You have got to be firm with phantoms.

Commending his soul to God, he lowered his head and drove forward at Bill's midriff.

'Oof!' said Bill.

'Cheese!' said Tipton.

It would not be easy to say which of the two was the more astonished, or which the more filled with honest indignation. But Bill being occupied with the task of recovering his breath, Tipton was the first to give expression to his feelings.

'Well, how was I to know he was real?' he demanded, turning to Gally as a fair-minded non-partisan who would be able to
view the situation objectively. 'This guy's been following me around for days, dodging in and out of registry offices, popping around corners, leering at me out of shrubberies. And it isn't more than about half a minute ago that he was snooping in at my window. If he thinks I'm going to stand for that sort of thing, he's darned well mistaken. There's a limit,' said Tipton, summing up.

Once more the congenial task of pouring oil on troubled waters had fallen to the Hon. Galahad. Tipton's revelations in his bedroom on the previous day had placed him in the position of being able to understand that which he might otherwise have found a perplexing state of affairs.

'You don't mean to tell me it's Bill you've been seeing all this time? How very remarkable. This is my godson, Bill Lister. Tipton Plimsoll, Bill, nephew of my old friend Chet Tipton. When did you two first meet? At Barribault's Hotel, was it not?'

'He came rubbering through the glass door when I was in the bar.'

'Well, I wanted a drink,' said Bill defensively. 'I was being married that morning.'

'Married?' Tipton was beginning to understand all and to be in a position to forgive all. 'Was that why you were at that registry office?'

'Yes.'

'Well, I'm darned.'

'The whole matter,' said Gally, 'is susceptible of a ready explanation. His bride, my niece Prudence, was arrested by the authorities before she could get to the registry office and sent down here. Bill followed. That was how you happened to meet.'

Tipton's whole manner had softened. He had even begun to smile. But now the recollection of a particular grievance hardened him again.

'There was no need for him to wear that gosh-awful beard,' he said.

'There was every need,' said Gally. 'He had to avoid recognition. And when he made faces outside your window, I imagine he was just coming from my niece's room, which adjoins yours. Am I right, Bill?'

'Yes. I was walking along a sort of ledge and I saw him in his room and I wanted him to let me in. But he just stared at me and went out.'

'And now, of course, you appreciate his motives in doing so. I remember a dear old friend of mine, Boko Bagshott – dead now, I'm sorry to say. Cirrhosis of the liver – who frequently saw faces at windows, and he was always off like a scalded cat the moment they appeared. In fairness I don't think we can blame Plimsoll.'

'I suppose not,' said Bill, though grudgingly.

'One must always try to put oneself in the other fellow's place. You could hardly have expected him in the circumstances to extend a warm southern welcome.'

'I suppose not,' said Bill, less grudgingly.

As far as Tipton Plimsoll was concerned, the whole unpleasant matter was now forgotten. The smile which had stolen into his face and receded returned with increased brilliance. It became a grin which would have made an excellent substitute for the evening sunlight, if the latter had for any reason decided to cease to illuminate the terrace.

'Gosh,' he said, 'this is a weight off my mind. This is where I begin to live. You don't know what it's been like this last week,
never being able to take the slightest snifter without seeing a hideous – without seeing a face bob up in the offing. I couldn't have stuck it out much longer. Mind you, now that I'm going to be married—'

'Are you going to be married?'

'You betcher.'

'Congratulations,' said Bill.

'Thanks, old man,' said Tipton.

'I hope you will be very, very happy, old man,' said Bill.

'I'll do just that little thing, old man,' said Tipton. 'As I was saying,' he went on, resuming his remarks, 'now that I'm going to be married, I've finished with all the rough stuff and I don't suppose I shall go on another real toot for the rest of my life, except of course on New Year's Eve—'

'Of course,' said Bill.

'—and Boat Race Night—'

'Naturally,' said Bill.

'—and special occasions like that,' said Tipton. 'But it's nice to know that one will be able to lower the stuff in strict moderation. It makes you feel so darned silly, swigging barley water when the rest of the boys are having highballs. Yes, it's certainly been a life-saver, running into you.'

'"Running into" is right,' said Bill.

'Ha, ha,' said Tipton, laughing heartily.

'Ha, ha,' said Bill, also laughing heartily.

Tipton slapped Bill's back. Bill slapped Tipton's. The Hon. Galahad beamed with growing approval on this delightful scene of cordiality and good feeling. He now asked Tipton if he would be offended if he were to take his godson to one side and impart to him something which was exclusively for his personal ear; and Tipton said: 'Go ahead, go right ahead.' Gally said they
would be only half a minute, and Tipton said: 'Take your time, take your time, take your time.'

'Bill,' said Gally, leading him to the terrace wall and speaking in a low, urgent voice, 'we have come to a crisis in your affairs. It's most unfortunate that you should have formed such a warm friendship with this chap Plimsoll.'

'He seems a good sort.'

'A capital young fellow. Grouchy when I first met him, but now the living image of his uncle Chet, who was the most carefree soul who ever wrecked a restaurant. Very rich.'

'Is he?'

'Enormously. And I feel he likes you.'

'I thought he was matey.'

'Yes, I think you have made an excellent first impression. And everything now depends on him.'

'How do you mean?'

A rather sombre look had come into the Hon. Galahad's monocle.

'I was telling you, when he came up, that an unfortunate thing had happened. Prue's original plan, if you remember, was to get the capital for modernizing and running the Mulberry Tree from my brother Clarence. And with that necklace under our belts this could have been done. Prue told you about the necklace in her letter?'

'Yes. It struck me as the goods.'

'It was the goods. With it in our possession, we should have been able to dictate terms. Most unfortunately, I've lost it.'

'What!'

'It has been pinched. I went to my room just now, to make sure it was there, and it wasn't.'

'Oh, my aunt!'

Gally shook his head.

'It isn't your aunt that matters, it's Prue's. There is just a chance that it isn't Hermione who has got the thing, but if she has, our flank is turned and only one hope remains. We must try to get that capital from young Plimsoll.'