Berry and Co Part 63

A buzz of excitement succeeded my report. Then Daphne turned quickly and looked searchingly at the house.

"I feel as if we were being watched," she said, shuddering. "Let's get back to the car."

As Jonah followed the girls into the lane--

"What about bolting the door?" said I.

Berry shook his head.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Any way, we've trodden the gra.s.s down.

Besides, there's nothing to hide."

We dragged the door to and hastened after the others.

As we climbed into the car, Jonah started the engine.

"What are the orders?" he said. "Is Miller the agent? You never said."

"Yes," said I. "We'd better go straight to Brooch."

Our way lay past the main entrance of The Lawn.

As we approached this, Jonah exclaimed and set his foot on the brake.

Leaning against the wall was a bicycle, and there was a man's figure busy about the gates. He appeared to be climbing over....

As we came up alongside, he looked at us curiously. Then he went on with his work.

A moment later he slid a pair of pliers into his pocket and, wringing the board clear of its fastenings, lowered it to the ground.

We were too late.

The Lawn was no longer for sale.

Our chagrin may be imagined more easily than it can be described.

We returned to White Ladies in a state of profound depression, alternately cursing Vandy and upbraiding ourselves for not having sent for the book upon the evening of the day of our visit to Broken Ash.

Jonah reproached himself bitterly for giving our cousin the benefit of his detective work, although both Daphne and I were positive that Vandy had identified the pedestal from Adele's description before Jonah had volunteered the suggestion that it was a sundial.

As for Adele, she was inconsolable.

It was after lunch--a miserable meal--when we were seated upon the terrace, that Berry cleared his throat and spoke wisely and to the point.

"The milk's spilt," he said, "and that's that. So we may as well dry our eyes. With that peris.h.i.+ng motto staring us in the face, we might have had the sense to be a bit quicker off the mark. But it's always the obvious that you never see. Vandy's beaten us by a foul, but there ain't no stewards to appeal to, so we've got to stick it. All the same, he's got some digging to do before he can draw the money, and I'm ready to lay a monkey that he does it himself. What's more, the last thing he'll want is to be disturbed. In fact, any interference with his work of excavation will undoubtedly shorten his life. Properly organized innocent interference will probably affect his reason. Our course of action is therefore clear.

"Unable to procure his beastly book--our copy cannot be found--we have forgotten the incident. It comes to our ears that he has bought The Lawn and is in possession. What more natural than that some of us should repair thither, to congratulate him upon becoming our neighbour? We shall roll up quite casually--by way of the door in the wall--and, when we find him labouring, affect the utmost surprise. Of our good nature we might even offer to help him to--er--relay the lawn or tackle the drains, or whatever he's doing. In any event we shall enact the _role_ of the village idiot, till between the respective gadflies of suspicion--which he dare not voice--and impatience--which he dare not reveal--he will be goaded into a condition of frenzy. What about it?"

The idea was heartily approved, and we became more cheerful.

Immediate arrangements were made for the entrance to The Lawn to be watched for the next twenty-four hours by reliefs of out-door servants whom we could trust, and instructions were issued that the moment Mr.

Vandy Pleydell put in an appearance, whether by day or night, we were to be informed.

At eight o'clock the next morning Berry came into my room.

"They're off," he said. "Thirty-five minutes ago Vandy and Emma and May arrived, unaccompanied, in a four-wheeled dogcart. He'd got the key of the gates, but the difficulty of getting them open single-handed appears to have been t.i.tanic. They seem to have stuck, or something. Altogether, according to James, a most distressing scene. However. Eventually they got inside and managed to shut the gates after them. In the dogcart there was a scythe and a whole armoury of tools."

I got out of bed and looked at him.

"After breakfast?" I queried.

My brother-in-law nodded.

"I think so. We'll settle the premises as we go."

As we were approaching The Lawn, I looked at my watch. It was just a quarter to ten.

The little door in the wall was still unbolted, and a very little expenditure of energy sufficed to admit my brother-in-law, n.o.bby, and myself into the garden.

So far as the Sealyham was concerned, 'the Wilderness was Paradise enow.' Tail up, he plunged into the welter of gra.s.s, leaping and wallowing and panting with surprise and delight at a playground which surpa.s.sed his wildest dreams. For a moment we watched him amusedly. Then we pushed the door to and started to saunter towards the house.

It was a glorious day, right at the end of August. Out of a flawless sky the sun blazed, broiling and merciless. There was nowhere a breath of wind, and in the sheltered garden--always a sun-trap--the heat was stifling.

As we drew near, the sound of voices, raised in bitterness, fell upon our ears, and we rounded the corner of the building to find Vandy waist-high in the gra.s.s about the sundial, shaking a sickle at his sisters, who were seated upon carriage cus.h.i.+ons, which had been laid upon the flags, and demanding furiously "how the devil they expected him to reap with a sweeping motion when the G.o.d-forsaken lawn was full of molehills."

"Quite right," said Berry. "It can't be done."

Emma and May screamed, and Vandy jumped as if he had been shot. Then, with a snarl, he turned to face us, crouching a little, like a beast at bay. Before he could utter a word, Berry was off.

Advancing with an air of engaging frankness, which would have beguiled the most hardened cynic, he let loose upon our cousin a voluminous flood of chatter, which drowned his protests ere they were mouthed, overwhelmed his inquiries ere they were launched, and finally swept him off his feet into the whirlpool of uncertainty, fear and bewilderment before he knew where he was.

We had only just heard of his purchase, were delighted to think we were to be neighbours, had had no idea he was contemplating a move, had always said what a jolly little nook it was, never could understand why it had been in the market so long, thought we might find him here taking a look round, wanted to see him, so decided to kill two birds with one stone.... What about the jolly old book? Had it come back from the binders? We couldn't find ours, thought it must be in Town.... The girls were devilling the life out of him to look it up. Was it William or Nicholas? He thought it was William. Hadn't Vandy said it was William?

What was the blinking use, any old way? And what a day I He'd got a bet with Jonah that the thermometer touched ninety-seven before noon. What did Vandy think? And what on earth was he doing with the pruning-hook?

And/or ploughshare on his left front? Oh, a scythe. Of course. Wouldn't he put it down? It made him tired to look at it. And was he reclaiming the lawn? Or only looking for a tennis-ball? Of course, what he really wanted was a cutter-and-binder, a steam-roller, and a gang of convicts....

I had been prepared to support the speaker, but, after three minutes of this, I left his side and sat down on the flags.

At last Berry paused for breath, and Emma, who had hurriedly composed and been rehearsing a plausible appreciation of the state of affairs, and was fidgeting to get it off her chest, thrust her way into the gap.

Well, the truth was, they were going to take up French gardening. There was no room at Broken Ash, and, besides, they must have a walled garden.

Building nowadays was such a frightful expense, and suddenly they'd thought of The Lawn. It was sheltered, just the right size, not too far away, and all they had to do was to clear the ground. And Vandy was so impatient that nothing would satisfy him but to start at once. "He'll get tired of it in a day or two," she added artlessly, "but you know what he is."

For an improvised exposition of proceedings so extraordinary, I thought her rendering extremely creditable.

So, I think, did Vandy, for he threw an approving glance in her direction, heaved a sigh of relief, and screwed up his mouth into a sickly smile.