The Complete Works of H. C. McNeile "Sapper". Sapper
see. Did Monsieur wish to see her particularly, for at this hour Mademoiselle Bernie was generally busy. My dear, he clutched at it. Horrible coward! It didn't matter at all; he wouldn't dream of worrying Mademoiselle if she was busy. Another time would do just as well. Perhaps Marie would give her these flowers. Then he took out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead: boxes of matches flew in all directions, and he bolted like a maniac to return no more."
"But why didn't Mrs. Blair go out and speak to him?" I demanded indignantly.
"Why didn't she?" said Molly, and of a sudden there came into her eyes a look I had never seen in them before. "Because, my dear, she loves him. And no woman wants the man she loves to see her for the first time when her eyes are wet."
"Oh!" I grunted foolishly. "I see."
"Just tears of joy, Dick, the most wonderful tears in the world. But they're quite as bad for the complexion as the ordinary brand. So when she was sure he wasn't coming back, she just picked up the boxes of matches for a few minutes, and kissed the flowers and put them in water, and then shut up the shop for the day."
"And what happens now?" I asked.
"I shall take the matter in hand myself," she remarked casually. "Though if it wasn't for the fact that I have decided on a double wedding I would let things take their natural course. He richly deserves to be kept on tenterhooks for at least six months after his revolting display of cowardice this morning. But since time is getting short, something has got to be done at once."
She looked at me thoughtfully, and I preserved a discreet silence. I felt that the male sex was not at a premium at the moment.
"At once," repeated Molly, and her eyes were still pensive. "I think—yes, I think you had better take a little motor trip in Sussex, Dick. The car's still going, I suppose."
"I put on a new bit of stamp-paper last night," I said with dignity.
"Good," said Molly. "You will take a little trip in Sussex, and you will bring Jim with you. Take enough clothes for the week-end, and something to bathe in."
"And which particular portion of Sussex am I to go to?"
"It's close to a little place called Angmering," she said.
"A charming bungalow with a strip of garden running down to the sea. I shall be there, and—"
"Mrs. Blair's bungalow," I announced brightly.
"What wonderful brain power!" remarked Molly. "But 'you're not to tell Jim that, or he'll funk it again. Just you bring him down and arrive tomorrow afternoon. Say I'm stopping with my aunt. Now pay the bill and buzz off. You're to keep the patient amused today, but don't let him get feverish."
So I buzzed off to find Jim at his club displaying every symptom of profound melancholia.
"Well," I said, affecting not to notice his anguished expression. "How did you find Mrs. Blair?"
"She was too busy to see me, old boy," he said sheepishly. "She's always too busy in the morning, so I was told."
And then I laughed in his face.
"You confounded old liar!" I cried; "you know perfectly well that you ratted horribly. You were in a pea-green funk and all the traces still remain."
"It seemed so different this morning from when we were talking about it last night," he said in an abashed voice. "Do you think I ought to try again this afternoon, Dick?"
"She's gone out of London for the week-end," I remarked at once, and the look of the reprieved prisoner appeared on his face. "I thought I told you last night that she was going. So you can't do anything till Tuesday. And in the meantime Molly wants to know if you will motor down with me tomorrow to her aunt's bungalow for a couple of nights or so."
"Aunt?" cried Jim suspiciously.
"Yes—aunt. Either mother's sister or father's. I didn't ask which. But lots of people have one or two lying about the place."
"Is anybody else going to be there?" he demanded.
"Not that I'm aware of," I answered. "They particularly want you to make a four at bridge or ludo or some thing. It will fill in the time quite nicely till you can go round and see Mrs. Blair on Tuesday. And a quiet weekend by the sea may make your nerves a bit stronger."
And suddenly he grinned like a schoolboy.
"You're right, old Dick. I did rat this morning. I've never been in such a funk in my life. For all I know she may be engaged to someone else or even married again. And anyway she's probably forgotten all about me by now."
"More than likely," I agreed brutally. "But you'd better talk things over with Molly this week-end—or her aunt."
And so the following afternoon we arrived at the bungalow where the garden ran down to the sea. Molly was there, and her aunt, and I heard Jim give an audible gasp as he saw his portion for the week-end. His job was the aunt, as I told him on the way down in the car, and she was some portion. Grey hair that hung in wisps appeared below a cotton sun bonnet; a pair of large yellow spectacles concealed her eyes, and one dreadful black tooth hit one in the face whenever she smiled. But her particular charm lay in her voice, which was a cracked falsetto.
"I'm a little hard of hearing, Mr. Maitland," she said, producing an ear- trumpet. "But if you speak into this all the time I expect I shall hear you. You must tell me all your adventures in those heathenish parts while the two young people enjoy themselves."
"Delighted," boomed Jim, and his face looked a little strained.
"It's wonderful to be young," she went on. "Now, my dears, you two run away and have a little talk while Mr. Maitland amuses me."
I had one fleeting glimpse of her adjusting the ear trumpet, and Jim's look of fixed horror as of a bird that gazes at a snake from close quarters: I just heard her first remark, "Now tell me all about pirates and sharks and things," and then Molly and I collapsed into one another's arms.
"She's wonderful," I murmured weakly. "How long is the punishment to last?"
"It depends," said Molly. "We'll give 'em half an hour at any rate."
We did, and when we got back Jim was a shattered wreck. "I can't stand it any more." He had seized my arm and took me on one side. "Much will I do for you, Dick—but not that. I don't want to be rude about Molly's relative, but the woman should be put under restraint. Are you aware that she's just asked me if I've ever eaten anybody? Said Molly had told her I had become a cannibal."
"Courage, mon brave!" I muttered in a shaking voice. "I'll do the same for you some day. Think how you're amusing the old pet! And after tea we're going to bathe."
"Not the elderly trout," he gasped. "Great heavens! my dear fellow, you can't tell me that she's going to bathe. I simply couldn't bear it."
"Auntie swims very well," said Molly, who had joined us unperceived. "But sometimes she gets cramp, Jim, and if she does you must be at hand to help her."
"Merciful Allah!" said Jim under his breath, and Molly turned away with suspicious abruptness.
And sure enough auntie appeared after tea completely enveloped in a bath robe. We were waiting for her in the garden and as she passed us only her shrill falsetto, summoning Jim, proclaimed who she was.
"You and I will swim together, Mr. Maitland," she announced. "And my right knee has been cracking dreadfully, so you mustn't leave me in case I get cramp. There's a lovely pool here with a diving-board, and then we'll swim out to sea."
"For heaven's sake get a boat and follow," croaked Jim to me. "If the old woman gets cramp we're lost. And surely she's not going to dive—"
The words died away on his lips, and of a sudden he stood very still. Silhouetted on the end of the diving-board was the lovely figure of a girl. Gone were the spectacles and the grey hair—gone was the ear trumpet. And for one second she looked back at him as he stood there speechless.
"Come with me, won't you—just in case I get cramp?"