The Brother of Daphne - BestLightNovel.com
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As she obeyed I slid my left arm about her, ready to lift her up.
Suddenly Punch became limp and lifeless in his wife's embrace, and with my freed right hand I slipped her mask over her forehead, smiled into her eyes, and kissed them.
"I promised not to ask again."
"Punch!"
So for a moment we two let the world wag. Then the whole booth fell heavily over, mouth uppermost, and we within it. It was the final of the animal race that was responsible for our overthrow. The black pig, blind with jealous rage and mortification at being beaten on the tape by a cochin china, had borne violently down upon the booth and upset it, with wicked grunts of satisfaction.
"Hurt, dear?" said I.
"No."
As she slipped her mask into place, Berry put his head in at the mouth of the booth. Maskless, noseless, I looked at him. Slowly his astonished features relaxed in a grin.
"So!" he said softly. "I might have known."
CHAPTER II
CLOTHES AND THE MAN
"This," said Berry, "is all right. By which I mean--"
We a.s.sured him we knew what he meant, and that no explanation was necessary.
"All right," he said at last. "There. I've said it again now. You're quite sure you do know what I mean? Because, if you've the least hesitation--"
"Will you be quiet?" said Daphne.
"Alright."
It was a beautiful August morning. After a roaring season in town, we had, all five--Berry, Daphne, Jonah, Jill, and myself--girded our jaded loins, packed, crawled into the car, and rolled down to Cornwall, there to build up the wasted tissues, go to bed at ten, and forget that there were such things as theatres and ballrooms.
We took a couple of days coming down by road, and our run was not without incident.
I wish cyclists would not hang on behind.
In Kingston a monger's boy, with some fish that were patently feeling the heat, took hold of the cape-hood. I spoke with him after a little.
"The use of this hood," I said, "for heavy and bulky packages involves risk of injury to pa.s.sengers, and is prohibited. Didn't you know that?"
He regarded me with a seraphic smile, nearly lost his life by getting into a tram-line, and said I ought to know better than to talk to the man at the wheel.
"Friend," said I, "I perceive you are a humorist. Lo, here in this car are already three humorists. Under these unfortunate circ.u.mstances, I have no alternative but to ask you to withdraw."
It was just then that the near hind tyre burst exactly under him.
We gave him half a sovereign towards buying a new bicycle, but I believe he will always think we did it on purpose.
It had been arranged that we should spend the night at Salisbury and push on to Cornwall on the following day. We made the Cathedral city soon after five and slipped out to see Stonehenge. There were a few other people there, and one or two of them turned to watch our arrival.
Berry left the car and went straight to the nearest--a fat tradesman, wearing a new imitation panama and a huge calabash.
"Can you tell me if this is Stoke Poges?" we heard him say. The rest of us alighted and walked hurriedly away in the opposite direction.
Clearly my brother-in-law was in a certain mood and no fit companion for the sensitive. Memories of the unutterable torment, to which on like occasions we had been mercilessly subjected, by reason of Berry's most shameless behaviour among strangers, rose up before us. The fact that he called after us caused Daphne to break into a run.
Our luck was out. When we had completed the circle of the cromlechs, we came suddenly upon him. More to our dismay than surprise he had become the centre of a little knot of excursionists, who were listening to him eagerly. As we appeared:
"Ah," he said to the interested company, "here is my Aunt! She'll tell you. Aunt Daphne, wasn't it here that father lost the string bag?"
"Wretched fool!" said Daphne under her breath, turning hurriedly in the direction of the car.
Berry watched her retreat, and turned to his listeners with a sigh.
"I'm afraid I've gone and upset her now," he said. "I oughtn't to have reminded her of the untoward incident. It was the only string bag they had, and it was an awful blow to her. It upset him, too, terribly.
Never the same man again. In fact, from that day he began to go wrong--criminally, I mean."
The little group grew closer to him than ever. Like a fool, I stayed to hear more.
"Yes," Berry went on, "in less than a month he was up at the Old Bailey, under the Merchandise Marks Act, for selling Gruyere cheese with too big holes in it. Five years his sentence was. Let's see, he ought to be coming out in about--oh, about--When does father come out, Cousin Albert?"
The excursionists gazed greedily at me--the felon's son. I approached Berry and laid a hand upon his arm. Then I turned to the little group.
"This fellow," I said, "has got us into trouble before. Those of you who have motor-cars will understand me when I refer to the great difficulty of securing a really trustworthy chauffeur. Now, this man is honest and a most careful driver, but when he is, so to speak, off duty, he is so unfortunate as to suffer from delusions, usually connected with crime and the administration of the criminal law. While we were having lunch at Whitchurch only this afternoon, he went off to the police-station and tried to give himself up for the Hounslow murder, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir," faltered Berry.
"And all the time," I went on, "I'm not at all satisfied myself that he did murder the woman, although things certainly looked rather black--"
"I did!" said Berry fiercely.
The crowd of excursionists recoiled, and a small boy in a green flannel blazer burst into tears.
"Any way," I said, "there isn't anything like enough evidence against you, so we won't argue it. Now, then, we want to be going. Come along."
"Half a shake, sir," said Berry, feeling in his pockets. "You know that knife--"
The company began nervously to disperse. Some exhorted one another to observe some feature of the cromlechs which was only visible from some point of vantage on the side other to that on which we stood. Others agreed that they had no idea that it was so late, and the fat tradesman gave a forced s.h.i.+ver and announced that he must have left his coat behind "that big one."
"I'll get it for you, sir," said Berry, opening his knife.
I was forced to admit that Stonehenge looked far more impressive when apparently deserted, than with one or two tourists, however genial and guileless, in a high holiday humour in the foreground. At the same time, as we walked back to the car, I felt that I owed it to myself to lodge a grave protest against the indecent and involving methods my brother-in-law had seen fit to employ.
"After all," I concluded, "the fellow's your brother, and even if his panama wasn't a real one, that's no reason why he should be made to do the hundred in about twelve seconds. He wasn't in strict training either. You could see that. Besides, why rope me in? For yourself, if you must play the comic idiot--"
"He wasn't in the picture," said Berry. "None of them were. That kid's blazer absolutely killed the gra.s.s for miles around. Didn't you see how brown it had gone? That," he added coolly, "is the worst of having an artistic eye. One must pay for these things."