Berry and Co. Read online

  CHAPTER X

  HOW ADELE BROKE HER DREAM, AND VANDY PLEYDELL TOOK EXERCISE.

  "What, again?" said I, staring at the breakfast-cup which Jill wasoffering me, that I might pass it to Daphne. "How many more cups is hegoing to drink? He's had three to my knowledge."

  "That vessel," said Berry, "was passed to you for information andimmediate action. So, as they say in the Army, close your perishin' headand get down to it."

  "What you want," said I, "is a bucket. Or a private urn."

  "What's the matter with a trough?" said Jonah. "That'd be more inkeeping."

  Berry turned to Adele.

  "You see?" he said. "Two putrid minds with but a single snort. But thereyou are. Don't dwell on it. Pass the marmalade instead." He turned tohis wife. "And what's the programme for to-day? The glass has gone up,it's already raining, 'all's right with the world.' Anybody like to playping-pong?"

  "Fool," said his wife. "As a matter of fact, I don't think it would be abad idea if we went over to Broken Ash for tea." Berry made a grimace,and Jill and I groaned. Even Jonah looked down his nose at thesuggestion. "Yes," my sister continued, "I didn't think it'd be apopular move, but I'd like Adele to see the pictures, and we haven'tshown a sign of life since we left Town."

  At Broken Ash lived the other branch of the Pleydell family, consistingof our Cousin Vandy and his two sisters. Between them and us there waslittle love lost. Of their jealousy of Berry, but for whose birth WhiteLadies would have passed into their hands, they made but an open secret;and, when he married my sister, who was his second cousin, and theMansels--Cousins Jonah and Jill--had thrown in their lot with us,relations had become more strained than before. The conventions were,however, observed. Calendars were exchanged at Christmas, birthdays wererecognized with a cold epistolary nod, and occasional calls were paidand invitations issued. Their possession of all but two of the familyportraits was undoubted, and with nine points of the law in their favourthey were well armed. It was an open question whether the tenth point,which was ours, was sufficiently doughty to lay the other nine by theheels. Years ago counsel had advised that the law was dead in ourfavour, but it was certain that Vandy and his sisters would resist anyclaim we made with great bitterness, and the settlement of a familyquarrel in the public ring of the High Court was more than we couldstomach.

  Still, the pictures were worth seeing. There were a Holbein, a Van Dyck,three Gainsboroughs, and two from the brush of Reynolds among them, and,so soon as she had learned of their existence, Adele had evinced aneagerness to be shown the collection.

  There was a moment's silence. Then--

  "I'd hate to think you were going for my sake," said Adele.

  "We're not, dear," said Daphne. "Even if you weren't here, we shouldhave to go some day soon."

  "Yes," said Berry. "We hate one another like poison, but we've neverdeclared war. Consequently, diplomatic relations are still maintained,and in due season we meet and are charmingly offensive to one another.When war broke out they were very sticky about billeting a few Yeomanrychargers, and crawled and lied about their stabling till the authoritiesgot fed up and commandeered all they'd got. Therefore, whenever we meet,I chivvy the conversation in the direction of horseflesh. In the sameway, having regard to the burglary which we suffered last month, Vandywill spread himself on the subject of old silver. The moment they heardof it, they sent us a triumphant telegram of condolence."

  My sister laughed.

  "If you say much more," she said, "Adele will be afraid to come with us.I admit it's a duty call, pure and simple. All the same, there won't beany bloodshed."

  "I'm ready for anything," said Addle thoughtfully. "Shall I wear a redor white rose?"

  "Don't tell us you can control your cheeks," said I. "It's unheard of.And why are you so pensive this morning? Is it because of Ireland? Orhave you trodden on your sponge?"

  "I believe she's broken the soap-dish," said Berry, "and is afraid totell us."

  "Don't tease her," said Jill. "Why shouldn't she be quiet if she likes?"

  But Adele was bubbling with laughter.

  "The truth is," she announced, "I'm trying to remember a dream I hadlast night." She looked across the table to me. "You know what it is todream something rather vivid and interesting, and then not to be able toremember what it was?"

  I nodded.

  "But you can't do anything," I said. "It's no good trying to rememberit. Either you'll think of it, or you won't."

  "Exactly," said my brother-in-law. "There's no other alternative. It'sone of the laws of Nature. I well remember dreaming that I was a disusedcolumbarium which had been converted into a brewery and was used as agreenhouse. I was full of vats and memorial tablets and creepinggeraniums. Just as they were going to pull me down to make room for acinema, Daphne woke me up to say there was a bat in the room. I repliedsuitably, but, before turning over to resume my slumbers, I tried torecapture my dream. My efforts were vain. It was gone for ever."

  "Then how d'you know what it was about?" said Jill.

  "I don't," said Berry. "What I have told you is pure surmise. And nowwill you pass me the toast, or shall I come and get it?"

  Choking with indignation, Jill stretched out a rosy hand in thedirection of the toastrack.... Suddenly the light of mischief leapt intoher grey eyes, and she called Nobby. In a flash the Sealyham--never sovigilant as at meal-time--was by her side. Cheerfully she gave him thelast piece of toast. Then she turned to Berry with a seraphic smile.

  "I'm afraid there's none left," he said.

  * * * * *

  Before we had finished lunch, the rain had ceased, and by the time wewere under weigh, _en route_ for Broken Ash, the afternoon sun wasturning a wet world into a sweet-smelling jewel. Diamonds dripped fromher foliage, emerald plumes glistened on every bank, silver lay spiltupon her soft brown roads. No scent-bag was ever stuffed with such rarespicery. Out of the dewy soil welled up the fresh clean breath of magicspikenard, very precious.

  Punctually at half-past four we swept up the avenue of poplars that ledto our cousins' house.

  The visit had been arranged by Daphne upon the telephone, and Vandy andhis two sisters were ready and waiting....

  The _reunion_ was not cordial. Ease and Familiarity were not among theguests. But it was eminently correct. The most exacting Master ofCeremonies, the most severe authority upon Etiquette, would have beensatisfied. We were extraordinarily polite. We made engagingconversation, we begged one another's pardon, we enjoyed one another'sjokes. The dispensation and acceptance of hospitality did the respectiveforces infinite credit.

  After tea we were taken to see the pictures. Vandy, as showman,naturally escorted Adele. The rest of us, decently grouped about hissisters, followed like a party of sightseers in the wake of a verger.

  To do our host justice, he knew his own fathers. For what it was worth,the history of the Pleydell family lay at his fingers' ends. Men,manners and exploits--he knew them all. Indeed, years ago he hadcollected his knowledge and had it published in the form of a book. Wehad a copy somewhere.

  We were half-way along the gallery, and our cousin was in full blast,when Adele, to whom he was introducing the portraits with triumphantunction, started forward with a low cry.

  "That's the very man," she exclaimed, pointing at the picture of amiddle-aged gentleman in a plum-coloured coat, which, I seemed toremember, was unsigned but attributed--without much confidence--to thebrush of Gonzales Coques. "What an extraordinary thing! I've broken mydream."

  In the twinkling of an eye Vandy's importance was snatched from him, andthe prophet's mantle had fallen upon Adele. Where, but a moment before,he had been strutting in all the pride of a proprietor, she held thestage. More. Neither our discomfited host nor his sisters could divinewhat was toward, and the fact that their guests crowded eagerly aboutAdele, encouraging her to "let them have it," was more disconcertingthan ever.

  "It was in a garden," said Adele, "a quiet sort, of place. I thin
k I waswalking behind him. I don't know how I got there, but he didn't see me.All the same, he kept looking round, as if he was afraid he was beingwatched. Presently we came to a place where there was a stone pedestalstanding. It wasn't exactly a pillar--it wasn't high enough. And it wastoo high for a seat. Well, he stared at this for a moment; then helooked around again, very cautiously, and then--it sounds idiotic, buthe began to prod the turf with his stick. At first he did it justcasually, here and there: but, after a little, he started prodding atregular intervals, methodically. The ground was quite soft, and hisstick seemed to go in like a skewer. Suddenly he seemed to hearsomething or somebody, for he listened very carefully, and then walkedon tiptoe to the pedestal and leaned up against it as if he wereresting. The next moment somebody--some man in ordinary clothes came outof...." She hesitated. "I don't know whether it was some bushes or awall he came out of. Some bushes, I guess. Any way, he appeared,and--don't laugh--gave him a green tomato. Then I woke up."

  "And this is the man you saw?" cried Daphne, pointing.

  Adele nodded.

  "Dress and everything. He was wearing the same plumed hat and thatidentical coat, buttoned all down the front, with the pockets low downon either side. And I'll never forget his face. That's a wonderfulpicture. It's life-like."

  "What an extraordinary thing!" said I. Then I turned to Vandy. "Has thisportrait ever been reproduced?"

  He did not seem to hear me.

  With dropped jaw and bulging eyes, the fellow was staring at Adele,staring....

  Suddenly, as with an effort, he pulled himself together.

  "Was that all you saw?" he said hoarsely.

  Adele pondered.

  "I think so," she said slowly. "Except that there were some words carvedon the pedestal. PER ... IMP ... PERIMP, ... No. That wasn't it.Something like that. Not English. I can't remember."

  "Ah!"

  Berry took up the running.

  "You say the merchant was prodding the ground?" he said.

  "That's right. It sounds silly, but----"

  "Not at all," said Berry excitedly. "He was looking for something. It'sas clear as daylight." He turned to the picture. "That's WilliamPleydell, isn't it, Vandy? Seventeenth-century bloke. The one Pepysmentions."

  My cousin nodded abstractedly. With unseeing eyes he was staring out ofa window. It was patent that Adele's recital had affected himstrangely....

  Berry laid a hand on his arm.

  "Where's the book you wrote?" he said gently. "That may throw some lighton it."

  One of our hostesses turned, as though she would fetch the volume.

  "It went to be rebound yesterday," cried Vandy in a strained,penetrating voice.

  His sister stopped and stood still in her tracks. A moment later she hadturned back and was murmuring a confirmation.

  Jonah, who had been busy with a pencil and the back of an envelope,limped towards us from one of the windows.

  "The pedestal was a sundial," he said. Vandy looked at him sharply. Heturned to Adele. "PER ... IMP ... you said. Try PEREUNT ET IMPUTANTUR.Latin. 'The hours pass and are charged against us.' You'll find thephrase on five sundials out of six."

  A buzz of excited applause greeted this admirable contribution.

  Adele looked at the written words. "You are clever," she said. "Ofcourse, that's it. It must be."

  Vandy's reception of Jonah's discovery convinced me that it had alreadyoccurred to him. He applauded theatrically. The fellow was playing apart, feverishly. Besides, I did not believe his rotten book was beingrebound. That was a lie. There was something there which he did not wantus to see. Not a doubt of it. Well, we had a copy at White Ladies. No!Our copy was in Town. Hang it! What a sweep the man was!

  With a horse-laugh he interrupted my reflections.

  "Well, well, Miss Feste, I confess you gave me a shock. Still, if youhad to meet one of our forefathers, I could have wished it had been anyother than the notorious William. We enjoy his portrait, but we deplorehis memory. Ha! Ha! Now, we're really proud of the next one--his cousin,James Godstow Pleydell. He it was who was responsible----"

  "Forgive me," purred Daphne, "but I'm going to say we must fly. I'd noidea it was so late. People are coming to dinner, and we must go back byBrooch, because we've run out of ice."

  Our host protested--not very heartily--and was overruled. Mutual regretwas suitably expressed. Without more ado we descended into the hall.Here at the front door the decencies of leave-taking were observed. Thehost and hostesses were thanked, the parting guests sped. A momentlater, we were sliding down the avenue to the lodge-gates. As we swungon to the road--

  "Where's the book?" said Daphne. "That man's a liar."

  "At Cholmondeley Street," said I. "But you're right about Vandy. He'strying to keep something back."

  "He's so excited he doesn't know what to do," said Daphne. "That'sclear."

  "Well, what the deuce is it?" said Berry. "I've read the blinkin' book,but I'll swear there's nothing in it about buried treasure."

  "Whatever it is," said I, "it's in that book. I'll get it to-morrow.D'you really want any ice?"

  Daphne shook her head.

  "But I couldn't stay there with that man another minute."

  Adele lifted up her sweet voice.

  "I feel very guilty," she said. "I've upset you all, I've giveneverything away to your cousin with both hands, and I've----"

  "Nonsense, darling," said Daphne. "You did the natural thing. How couldyou know----"

  Jonah interrupted her with a laugh.

  "One thing's certain," he said. "I'll bet old Vandy's cursing the day herushed into print."

  * * * * *

  Upon reflection it seemed idle for any one of us to journey to Londonand back merely to fetch a volume, so the next morning one of theservants was dispatched instead, armed with a note to the housekeeper atCholmondeley Street, telling her exactly where the book would be found.

  The man returned as we were finishing dinner, and _The History of thePleydell Family_ was brought to Berry while we sat at dessert.

  Nuts and wine went by the board.

  As my brother-in-law cut the string, we left our places and crowdedabout him....

  Reference to the index bade us turn to page fifty-four.

  As the leaves flicked, we waited breathlessly. Then--

  "Here we are," said Berry. "'WILLIAM PLEYDELL. In 1652 Nicholas died, tobe succeeded by his only child, William, of whom little is known. Thisis perhaps as well, for such information as is to hand, regarding hislife and habits, shows him to have been addicted to no ordinarily evilways. The lustre which his father and grandfather had added to thefamily name William seems to have spared no effort to tarnish. Whenprofligacy was so fashionable, a man must have lived hard indeed toattract attention. Nevertheless, Samuel Pepys, the Diarist, refers tohim more than once, each time commenting upon the vileness of hiscompany and his offensive behaviour. Upon one occasion, we are told, atthe play-house the whole audience was scandalized by a _loose drunkenfrolic,_ in which _Mr. William Pleydell, a gentleman of Hampshire,_played a disgraceful part. What was worse, he carried his dissolutehabits into the countryside, and at one time his way of living at thefamily seat White Ladies was so openly outrageous that the incumbent ofBilberry actually denounced the squire from the pulpit, referring to himas 'a notorious evil-liver' and 'an abandoned wretch.' If not for hisgood name, however, for the house and pleasure-gardens he seems to havehad some respect, for it was during his tenure that the stables wererebuilt and the gardens decorated with statuary which has sincedisappeared. '_A sundial_'"--the sensation which the word produced wasprofound, and Jill cried out with excitement--"'_a sundial, bearing thedate 1663 and the cipher W.P., still stands in the garden of the olddower-house, which passed out of the hands of the family early in thenineteenth century._'"

  Berry stopped reading, and laid the book down.

  "The dower-house?" cried Daphne blankly.

  Her husband nodded.


  "But I never knew there was one. Besides----"

  "Better known to-day as 'The Lawn, Bilberry.'"

  "Quite right," said Jonah. "A hundred years ago that stood inside thepark."

  "The Lawn?" cried Jill. "Why, that's where the fire was. Years and yearsago. I remember old Nanny taking me down to see it the next day. Andit's never been rebuilt."

  "To my knowledge," said I, "it's had a board up, saying it's for sale,for the last fifteen years. Shall we go in for it? They can't want much.The house is gutted, the garden's a wilderness, and----"

  A cry from Adele interrupted me. While we were talking, she had pickedup the volume.

  "Listen to this," she said. "' William Pleydell died unmarried andintestate in 1667, and was succeeded by his cousin Anthony. Except thatduring the former's tenure a good deal of timber was cut, White Ladieshad been well cared for. The one blot upon his stewardship was thedisappearance of the greater part of the family plate, which NicholasPleydell's will proves to have been unusually rare and valuable. _Thereused to exist a legend, for which the author can trace no foundation,that William had brought it from London during the Great Plague andburied it, for want of a strong-room, at White Ladies._ A far moreprobable explanation is that its graceless inheritor surreptitiouslydisposed of the treasure for the same reason as he committed waste,viz., to spend the proceeds upon riotous living.'"

  Dumbly we stared at the reader....

  The murder was out.

  Berry whipped out his watch.

  "Nine o'clock," he announced. "We can do nothing to-night. And thatsweep Vandy's got a long lead. We haven't a moment to lose. Who are theagents for The Lawn?"

  "It's on the board," said I, "and I've read it a thousand times, but I'mhanged if I can remember whether it's Miller of Brooch, or a Londonfirm."

  "Slip over there the first thing in the morning," said Jonah. "If it'sMiller, so much the better. You can go straight on to Brooch. If it's aLondon man--well, there's always the telephone."

  "I hope to heaven," said Daphne, "it's--it's still for sale."

  "Vandy's got Scotch blood in him," said Berry. "He won't lay out fifteenhundred or so without looking round."

  "More like three thousand," said Jonah.

  "It's a lot of money to risk," said Daphne slowly.

  "Yes," said Adele anxiously. "I feel that. I know it's your affair, but,if it hadn't been for my dream, this would never have happened. Andsupposing there's nothing in it.... I mean, it would be dreadful tothink you'd thrown away all that money and gotten nothing in exchange.And they always say that dreams are contrary."

  "Let's face the facts," said my brother-in-law. "Taking everything intoconsideration, doesn't it look like a vision, or second sight?"

  We agreed vociferously. Only Adele looked ill at ease.

  Berry continued.

  "Very well, then. Less than a month ago all our silver was taken off usby comic burglars. Doesn't it look as if we were being offered thechance of replacing it by something better?"

  Again we agreed.

  "Lastly, the insurance company has paid up to the tune of four thousandpounds, which amount is now standing to the credit of my deposit accountat Coutts'. I tell you, if we don't have a dart, we shall be mad."

  "I agree," said I.

  "So do I," cried Jill. "I'm all for it."

  Only Daphne and Jonah hesitated.

  I laid my hand upon the former's shoulder.

  "Supposing," I said, "we take no action, but Vandy does. Supposing hestrikes oil and lands the stuff under our noses.... Wouldn't youcheerfully blow the four thousand just to avoid that?"

  My sister's eyes flashed, and Jonah's chin went up.

  "Anything," said Daphne emphatically, "anything would be better thanthat."

  So was the decision made.

  We adjourned to the drawing-room, and for the rest of the eveningdiscussed the matter furiously.

  The suggestion that Vandy would not wait to buy, but had already got towork at The Lawn, was summarily dismissed. Our cousin was too cautiousfor that. He knew that the moment we had the book, we should be as wiseas he, and that, since we were at loggerheads, we should certainly notsit quietly by and permit him to enrich himself to our teeth, when aword to the owners of The Lawn would compel him to disgorge any treasurehe found. No, Vandy was no fool. He would walk circumspectly, and buyfirst and dig afterwards.

  It was Jonah who raised the question of "treasure trove." In someuneasiness we sought for a book of law. Investigation, however,satisfied us that, if the plate were ever unearthed, the Crown would notinterfere. Evidence that an ancestor had buried it was available, andreference to the will of Nicholas would establish its identity. Whetherit belonged to us or to Vandy was another matter, but Reason suggestedthat Law and Equity alike would favour the party in whose land it wasfound.

  We ordered breakfast early and the car at a quarter to nine, but, forall that, it was past midnight before we went to bed.

  The next morning, for once in a way, we were up to time. Two minutesafter the quarter we were all six in the car, and it was not yet nineo'clock when Jonah pulled up in the shade of a mighty oak less than ahundred paces from the tall iron gates which stood gaunt, rusty andforbidding, to mar the beauty of the quiet by-road.

  So far as we could see there was no one about, but we were anxious notto attract attention, so Berry and I alighted and strolled casuallyforward.

  The object of our visit was, of course, to learn from the board in whosehands the property had been placed for sale. But we had decided that, ifit were possible, we must effect an entrance, to see whether the turfabout the sundial had been disturbed. Moreover, if we could get Adeleinside, it would be highly interesting to see whether she recognized theplace.

  Wired on to the mouldering gates, a weather-beaten board glared at us.

  _FREEHOLDwith immediate possessionTO BE SOLDThis Very DesirableOLD-WORLD MANSIONStanding in three acres of pleasure groundsAnd only requiring certain structural repairsTo be made an ideal modern residence.F. R. MILLER, Estate Agent, High St., Brooch._

  Considering that the house had been gutted nearly twenty years ago, andhad stood as the fire had left it from then until now, the advertisementwas euphemistic.

  By dint of peering between the corrupted bars, it was possible to seefor ourselves the desolation. A press of nettles crowded about thescorched and blackened walls, square gaping mouths, that had beenwindows, showed from the light within that there was no roof, while hereand there charred timbers thrust their unsightly way from out of a riotof brambles, wild and disorderly. What we could see of the garden was avery wilderness. Tall rank grass flourished on every side, carriage-wayand borders alike had been blotted into a springing waste, and the fewsprawling shrubs which we could recognize hardly emerged from beneaththe choking smother of luxuriant bindweed.

  The gates were chained and padlocked. But they were not difficult toscale, and in a moment Berry and I were over and standing knee-deep inthe long wet grass.

  Stealthily we made our way to the back of the house....

  The sundial was just visible. The grass of what had once been a trimlawn rose up about the heavy pedestal, coarse and tumultuous. But it wasuntouched. No foot of man or beast had trodden it--lately, at any rate.

  Simultaneously we heaved sighs of relief.

  Then--

  "Adele'll never recognize this," said Berry. "It's hopeless. What shesaw was a lawn, not a prairie." I nodded. "Still," he went on, "thereused to be a door in the wall--on the east side." As he spoke, he turnedand looked sharply at the haggard building. "Thought I heard something,"he added.

  "Did you?"

  I swung on my heel, and together we stared and listened. Eyes and earsalike went unrewarded. The silence of desolation hung like a raggedpall, gruesome and deathly....

  Without a word we passed to the east of the ruin. After a little we cameto the door in the wall. Here was no lock, and with a little patience wedrew the bolts and pulled the door open. It
gave on to a little lane,which ran into the by-road at a point close to where the others werewaiting.

  I left Berry and hastened back to the car.

  Exclamations of surprise greeted my issuing from the lane, and I couldread the same unspoken query in four faces at once.

  "We're first in the field so far," I said. There was a gasp of relief."Come along. We've found a way for you."

  Adele and Jill were already out of the car. Daphne and Jonah made hasteto alight.

  "Think we can leave her?" said Jonah, with a nod at the Rolls.

  "Oh, yes. We shan't be a minute."

  Hurriedly we padded back the way I had come. Berry was still at thedoor, and in silence we followed him to where he and I had stood lookingand listening a few minutes before.

  "O-o-oh!" cried Jill, in an excited whisper.

  "What about it, Adele?" said Berry.

  Adele looked about her, knitting her brows. Then--

  "I'm afraid to say anything," she said. "It may be the place I sat. Ican't say it isn't. But it's so altered. I think, if the grass wascut...."

  "What did I say?" said my brother-in-law.

  "But the pedestal was exactly that height. That I'll swear. And it stoodon a step."

  "What did the words look like?" said I.

  "They were carved in block letters on the side of the cornice."

  As carefully as I could, I stepped to the sundial. As I came up to it,my foot encountered a step....

  The column was unusually massive, and the dial must have been two feetsquare. Lichened and weather-beaten, an inscription upon the cornice wasyet quite easy to read.

  PEREUNT ET IMPUTANTUR

  And the words were carved in block lettering....

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

  "I feel as if we were being watched," she said, shuddering. "Let's getback 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 grass 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 figurebusy about the gates. He appeared to be climbing over....

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

  A moment later he slid a pair of pliers into his pocket and, wringingthe 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 sentfor the book upon the evening of the day of our visit to Broken Ash.

  Jonah reproached himself bitterly for giving our cousin the benefit ofhis detective work, although both Daphne and I were positive that Vandyhad identified the pedestal from Adele's description before Jonah hadvolunteered 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 theterrace, that Berry cleared his throat and spoke wisely and to thepoint.

  "The milk's spilt," he said, "and that's that. So we may as well dry oureyes. With that perishing motto staring us in the face, we might havehad the sense to be a bit quicker off the mark. But it's always theobvious that you never see. Vandy's beaten us by a foul, but there ain'tno stewards to appeal to, so we've got to stick it. All the same, he'sgot some digging to do before he can draw the money, and I'm ready tolay a monkey that he does it himself. What's more, the last thing he'llwant is to be disturbed. In fact, any interference with his work ofexcavation will undoubtedly shorten his life. Properly organizedinnocent interference will probably affect his reason. Our course ofaction is therefore clear.

  "Unable to procure his beastly book--our copy cannot be found--we haveforgotten the incident. It comes to our ears that he has bought The Lawnand is in possession. What more natural than that some of us shouldrepair thither, to congratulate him upon becoming our neighbour? Weshall roll up quite casually--by way of the door in the wall--and, whenwe find him labouring, affect the utmost surprise. Of our good nature wemight even offer to help him to--er--relay the lawn or tackle thedrains, or whatever he's doing. In any event we shall enact the _role_of the village idiot, till between the respective gadflies ofsuspicion--which he dare not voice--and impatience--which he dare notreveal--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 bewatched for the next twenty-four hours by reliefs of out-door servantswhom we could trust, and instructions were issued that the moment Mr.Vandy Pleydell put in an appearance, whether by day or night, we were tobe 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 Mayarrived, unaccompanied, in a four-wheeled dogcart. He'd got the key ofthe gates, but the difficulty of getting them open single-handed appearsto have been titanic. They seem to have stuck, or something. Altogether,according to James, a most distressing scene. However. Eventually theygot inside and managed to shut the gates after them. In the dogcartthere 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 aquarter to ten.

  The little door in the wall was still unbolted, and a very littleexpenditure of energy sufficed to admit my brother-in-law, Nobby, andmyself into the garden.

  So far as the Sealyham was concerned, 'the Wilderness was Paradiseenow.' Tail up, he plunged into the welter of grass, leaping andwallowing and panting with surprise and delight at a playground whichsurpassed his wildest dreams. For a moment we watched him amusedly. Thenwe 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 skythe sun blazed, broiling and merciless. There was nowhere a breath ofwind, and in the sheltered garden--always a sun-trap--the heat wasstifling.

  As we drew near, the sound of voices, raised in bitterness, fell uponour ears, and we rounded the corner of the building to find Vandywaist-high in the grass about the sundial, shaking a sickle at hissisters, who were seated upon carriage cushions, which had been laidupon the flags, and demanding furiously "how the devil they expected himto reap with a sweeping motion when the god-forsaken lawn was full ofmolehills."

  "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 atbay. Before he could utter a word, Berry was off.

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

  We ha
d only just heard of his purchase, were delighted to think we wereto be neighbours, had had no idea he was contemplating a move, hadalways said what a jolly little nook it was, never could understand whyit had been in the market so long, thought we might find him here takinga look round, wanted to see him, so decided to kill two birds with onestone.... What about the jolly old book? Had it come back from thebinders? We couldn't find ours, thought it must be in Town.... The girlswere devilling the life out of him to look it up. Was it William orNicholas? 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 betwith Jonah that the thermometer touched ninety-seven before noon. Whatdid 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'the put it down? It made him tired to look at it. And was he reclaimingthe lawn? Or only looking for a tennis-ball? Of course, what he reallywanted was a cutter-and-binder, a steam-roller, and a gang ofconvicts....

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

  At last Berry paused for breath, and Emma, who had hurriedly composedand 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. Therewas no room at Broken Ash, and, besides, they must have a walled garden.Building nowadays was such a frightful expense, and suddenly they'dthought of The Lawn. It was sheltered, just the right size, not too faraway, and all they had to do was to clear the ground. And Vandy was soimpatient that nothing would satisfy him but to start at once. "He'llget tired of it in a day or two," she added artlessly, "but you knowwhat he is."

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

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

  "Took up gardening during the War," he announced. "I--we all did. Anyamount of money in it. Quite surprised me. But," he added, warming tohis work, "it's the same with gardening as with everything else In thisworld. The most valuable asset is the personal element. If you want athing well done, do it yourself. Ha! Ha!"

  My brother-in-law looked round, regarding the howling riot of waste.

  "And where," he said, "shall you plant the asparagus?"

  Vandy started and dropped the sickle. Then he gave a forced laugh.

  "You must give us a chance," he said. "We've got a long way to go beforewe get to that. All this"--he waved an unbusiness-like arm, and hisvoice faltered--"all this has got to be cleared first."

  "I suppose it has," said Berry. "Well, don't mind us. You get on withit. Short of locusts or an earthquake, it's going to be a long job. Isuppose you couldn't hire a trench-mortar and shell it for a couple ofmonths?"

  Apparently Vandy was afraid to trust his voice, for, after swallowingtwice, he recovered the sickle and started to hack savagely at the grasswithout another word.

  With the utmost deliberation, Berry seated himself upon the flagstonesand, taking out his case, selected a cigarette. With an equallyleisurely air I produced a pipe and tobacco, and began to make ready tosmoke. Our cousins regarded these preparations with an uneasiness whichthey ill concealed. Clearly we were not proposing to move. The silenceof awkwardness and frantically working brains settled upon the company.From time to time Emma and May shifted uncomfortably. As he bent abouthis labour, Vandy's eyes bulged more than ever....

  Nobby, whom I had forgotten, suddenly reappeared, crawling pleasedlyfrom beneath a tangled stack of foliage, of which the core appeared tohave been a rhododendron. For a moment he stared at us, as if surprisedat the company we kept. Then his eyes fell upon Vandy.

  Enshrined in the swaying grass, the latter's knickerbockers, which hadbeen generously fashioned out of a material which had been boldlyconceived, presented a back view which was most arresting. With his headon one side, the terrier gazed at them with such inquisitiveastonishment that I had to set my teeth so as not to laugh outright. Hiscautious advance to investigate the phenomenon was still more ludicrous,and I was quite relieved when our cousin straightened his back anddissipated an illusion monstrously worthy of the pen of Mandeville.

  But there was better to come.

  As the unwitting Vandy, after a speechless glance in our direction, bentagain to his work, Nobby cast an appraising eye over the area which hadalready received attention. Perceiving a molehill which had suffered anugly gash--presumably from a scythe--he trotted up to explore, and,clapping his nose to the wound, snuffed long and thoughtfully. The nextmoment he was digging like one possessed.

  Emma and May stiffened with a shock. With the tail of my eye I saw themexchange horror-stricken glances. Panic fear sat in their eyes. Theirfingers moved convulsively. Then, with one consent, they began tocough....

  Their unconscious brother worked on.

  So did the Sealyham, but with a difference. While the one toiled, theother was in his element. A shower of earth flew from between his legs,only ceasing for a short moment, when he preferred to rend the earthwith his jaws and so facilitate the excavation.

  The coughing became insistent, frantic, impossible to be disregarded....

  As I was in the act of turning to express my concern Vandy looked up,followed the direction of four starting eyes, and let out a screech ofdismay.

  "What on earth's the matter?" cried Berry, getting upon his feet. "Beenstung, or something?"

  With a trembling forefinger Vandy indicated the miscreant.

  "Stop him!" he yelled. "Call him off. He'll-he'll spoil the lawn."

  "Ruin it," shrilled Emma.

  "Where?" said Berry blankly. "What lawn?"

  "_This_ lawn!" roared Vandy, stamping his foot.

  "But I thought----"

  "I don't care what you thought. Call the brute off. It's my land, and Iwon't have it."

  "Nobby," said Berry, "come off the bowling green."

  Scrambling to my feet, I countersigned the order in a peremptory tone.Aggrievedly the terrier complied. My brother-in-law turned to Vandy withan injured air.

  "I fear," he said stiffly, "that we are unwelcome." Instinctively Emmaand May made as though they would protest. In some dignity Berry liftedhis hand. "I may be wrong," he said. "I hope so. But from the first Ifelt that your manner was strained. Subsequent events suggest that mybelief was well founded." He turned to Vandy. "May I ask you to let usout? I am reluctant to trouble you, but to scale those gates twice inone morning is rather more than I care about."

  Fearful lest our surprise at our reception should become crystallizedinto an undesirable suspicion, short of pressing us to remain, ourcousins did everything to smooth our ruffled plumage.

  Vandy threw down the sickle and advanced with an apologetic leer. Emmaand May, wreathed in smiles, protested nervously that they had known thework was too much for Vandy, and begged us to think no more of it. As wefollowed the latter round to the quondam drive, they waved a cordialfarewell.

  The sight of the four-wheeled dogcart, standing with upturned shafts, apickaxe, three shovels, a rake, two forks, a number of sacks, and asieve piled anyhow by its side, was most engaging; but, after bestowinga casual glance upon the paraphernalia, Berry passed by without a word.Vandy went a rich plum colour, hesitated, and then plunged ondesperately. Tethered by a halter to a tree, a partially harnessed baymare suspended the process of mastication to fix us with a suspiciousstare. Her also we passed in silence.

  After a blasphemous struggle with the gates, whose objection to openingwas literally rooted and based upon custom, our host succeeded inforcing them apart sufficiently to permit our egress, and we gave him"Good day."

  In silence we strolled down the road.

  When we came to the lane, Berry stopped dead.

  "Brother," he said, "I perceive it to be m
y distasteful duty to return.There is an omission which I must repair."

  "You're not serious?" said I. "The fellow'll murder you."

  "No, he won't," said Berry. "He'll probably burst a blood-vessel, and,with luck, he may even have a stroke. But he won't murder me. You see."And, with that, he turned down the lane towards the door in the wall.

  Nobby and I followed.

  A moment later we were once more in the garden.

  The scene upon which we came was big with promise.

  Staggering over the frantic employment of a pickaxe, Vandy wasinflicting grievous injury upon the turf about the very spot at whichthe terrier had been digging. Standing well out of range, his sisterswere regarding the exhibition with clasped hands and looks of mingledexcitement and apprehension. All three were so much engrossed that,until Berry spoke, they were not aware of our presence.

  "I'm so sorry to interrupt you again"--Emma and May screamed, and Vandyendeavoured to check his implement in mid-swing, and only preserved hisbalance and a whole skin as by a miracle--"but, you know, I quite forgotto ask you about the book. And, as that was really our main objectin----"

  The roar of a wild beast cut short the speaker.

  Bellowing incoherently, trembling with passion, his mouth working, hiscountenance distorted with rage, Vandy shook his fist at his tormentorin a fit of ungovernable fury.

  "Get out of it!" he yelled. "Get out of it! I won't have this intrusion.It's monstrous. I won't stand it. I tell you----"

  "Hush, Vandy, hush!" implored his sisters in agonized tones.

  Berry raised his eyebrows.

  "Really," he said slowly, "anybody would think that you had something tohide."

  Then he turned on his heel.

  I was about to follow his example, when my cousin's bloodshot eyeperceived that Nobby was once more Innocently investigating the scene ofhis labour. With a choking cry our host sprang forward and raised thepick....

  Unaware of his peril, the dog snuffed on.

  One of the women screamed....

  Desperately I flung myself forward.

  The pick was falling as I struck it aside. Viciously it jabbed its wayinto the earth.

  For a long time Vandy and I faced one another, breathing heavily. Iwatched the blood fading out of the fellow's cheeks. At length--

  "Be thankful," said I, "that I was in time. Otherwise----"

  I hesitated, and Vandy took a step backwards and put a hand to histhroat.

  "Exactly," I said.

  Then I plucked the pick from the ground, stepped a few paces apart, and,taking the implement with both hands, spun round and threw it from me asif it had been a hammer.

  It sailed over some lime trees and crashed out of sight into somefoliage.

  Then I called the terrier and strode past my brother-in-law in thedirection of the postern.

  Berry fell in behind and followed me without a word.

  * * * * *

  "But why," said I, "shouldn't you tell me the day of your birth? I'm notasking the year."

  "1895," said Adele.

  I sighed.

  "Why," she inquired, "do you want to know?"

  "So that I can observe the festival as it deserves. Spend the day atMargate, or go to a cinema, or something. I might even wear a falsenose. You never know. It's an important date in my calendar."

  "How many people have you said that to?"

  I laughed bitterly.

  "If I told you the truth," I said, "you wouldn't believe me."

  There was a museful silence.

  It was three days and more since Berry and I had visited The Lawn, andVandy and Co. were still at work. So much had been reported by anunder-gardener. For ourselves, we had finished with our cousins for goodand all. The brutal attack upon our favourite was something we could notforget, and for a man whom beastly rage could so much degrade we had nouse. Naturally enough, his sisters went with him. Orders were given tothe servants that to callers from Broken Ash Daphne was "not at home,"and we were one and all determined, so far as was possible, never to seeor communicate with Vandy or his sisters again. It was natural, however,that we should be deeply interested in the success or failure of hisventure. We prayed fervently, but without much hope, that it mightfail.... After all, it was always on the cards that another had stumbledlong since upon the treasure, or that a thief had watched its burial andlater come privily and unearthed it. We should see.

  "I wonder you aren't ashamed of yourself," said Miss Feste. "At your ageyou ought to have sown all your wild oats."

  "So I have," I said stoutly. "And they weren't at all wild, either. I'venever seen such a miserable crop. As soon as the sun rose, they allwithered away."

  "The sun?"

  I turned and looked at her. The steady brown eyes held mine with asearching look. I met it faithfully. After a few seconds they turnedaway.

  "The sun?" she repeated quietly.

  "The sun, Adele. The sun that rose in America in 1895. Out of the foamof the sea. I can't tell you the date, but it must have been a beautifulday."

  There was a pause. Then--

  "How interesting!" said Adele. "So it withered them up, did it?"

  I nodded.

  "You see, Adele, they had no root."

  "None of them?"

  "None."

  Adele looked straight ahead of her into the box-hedge, which rose, stiffand punctilious, ten paces away, the counterpart of that beneath whichwe were sitting. For once in a way, her merry smile was missing. In itsstead Gravity sat in her eyes, hung on the warm red lips. I had knownher solemn before, but not like this. The proud face looked veryresolute. There was a strength about the lift of the delicate chin, asteadfast fearlessness about the poise of the well-shapedhead--unworldly wonders, which I had never seen. Over the glorioustemples the soft dark hair swept rich and lustrous. The exquisite columnof her neck rose from her flowered silk gown with matchless elegance.Her precious hands, all rosy, lay in her lap. Crossed legs gave metwelve inches of slim silk stocking and a satin slipper, daintyhabiliments, not half so dainty as their slender charge....

  The stable clock struck the half-hour.

  Half-past six. People had been to tea--big-wigs--and we were restingafter our labours. It was the perfect evening of a true summer's day.

  Nobby appeared in the foreground, strolling unconcernedly over the turfand pausing now and again to snuff the air or follow up an odd clue ofscent that led him a foot or so before it died away and came to nothing.

  "How," said Adele slowly, "did you come by Nobby?"

  Painfully distinct, the wraith of Josephine Childe rose up before me,pale and accusing. Fragments of the letter which had offered me theSealyham re-wrote themselves upon my brain.... _It nearly breaks myheart to say so, but I've got to part with Nobby.... I think you'd geton together ... if you'd like to have him._ ... And there was nothing init. It was a case of smoke without fire. But--I could have spared thequestion just then....

  Desperately I related the truth.

  "A girl called Josephine Childe gave him to me. She wanted to find ahome for him, as she was going overseas."

  "Oh."

  The silence that followed this non-committal remark was mostdiscomfiting. I had a feeling that the moments were critical, and--theywere slipping away. Should I leap into the tide of explanation? Thatway, perhaps, lay safety. Always the quicksand of _Qui s'excuse,s'accuse_, made me draw back. I became extremely nervous.... FeverishlyI tried to think of a remark which would be natural and more or lessrelevant, and would pilot us into a channel of conversation down whichwe could swim with confidence. Of all the legion of topics, the clemencyof the weather alone occurred to me. I could have screamed....

  The firebrand itself came to my rescue.

  Tired of amusing himself, the terrier retrieved an old ball from beneaththe hedge and, trotting across the sward, laid it down at my feet.

  Gratefully I picked it up and flung it for him to fetch.

  It f
ell into a thick welter of ivy which Time had built into a bulgingbuttress of greenery against the old grey wall at the end of the walk.

  The dog sped after it, his short legs flying....

  The spell was broken, and I felt better.

  "You mustn't think he's a root, though," I said cheerfully, "because heisn't. When did you say your birthday was?"

  "I didn't," said Adele. "Still, if you must know, I was born on Augustthe thirtieth."

  "To-day! Oh, Adele. And I've nothing for you Except...." I hesitated,and my heart began to beat very fast. "But I'd be ashamed--I mean...."My voice petered out helplessly. I braced myself for a supremeeffort....

  An impatient yelp rang out.

  "What's the matter with Nobby?" said Adele in a voice I hardlyrecognized.

  "Fed up, 'cause I've lost his ball for him," said I, and, cowardly gladof a respite, I rose and stepped to the aged riot of ivy, where theterrier was searching for his toy.

  I pulled a hole in the arras and peered through.

  There was more space than I had expected. The grey wall bellied awayfrom me.

  "What's that?" said Adele, looking over my shoulder.

  "What?" said I.

  "There. To the right."

  It was dark under the ivy, so I thrust in a groping arm.

  Almost at once my hand encountered the smooth edge of masonry.

  I took out a knife and ripped away some trails, so that we could seebetter.

  There was nothing to show that the pedestal which my efforts revealedhad ever supported a statue. But it was plain that such was the officefor which it had been set up. Presumably it was one of the series which,according to Vandy's book, had displayed imaginative effigies of theRoman Emperors, and had been done away in 1710. The inscription upon thecornice upheld this conclusion.

  PERTINAX IMPERATOR.

  I looked at Adele.

  "PER ... IMP ..." said I. "Does the cap fit?"

  "Yes," she said simply. "That's right. I remember it perfectly. Theother seemed likely, but I was never quite sure." Trembling a little,she turned and looked round. "And you came out of that break in thehedge with the tomato, and----Oh!"

  She stopped, and the colour came flooding into her cheeks....

  Then, in a flash, she turned and sped down the alley like a wild thing.As in a dream, I watched the tall slim figure dart out of sight....

  A second impatient yelp reminded me that Nobby was still waiting.

  * * * * *

  The firm of silversmiths whom we employed to clean the collection, afterit had been disinterred, valued it for purposes of insurance attwenty-two thousand pounds.

  We saw no reason to communicate with Vandy. The exercise was probablydoing him good, and he had shown a marked antipathy to interruption. Atent had been pitched at The Lawn, and the work of excavation wentsteadily on. Not until the twenty-eighth of September did it suddenlycease.

  Three days later we had occasion to drive into Brooch. We returned byway of The Lawn. As we approached the entrance, I slowed up....

  From the tall gates a brand-new board flaunted its black and whitepaint.

  But the legend it bore was the same.

  Mr. Miller was evidently a Conservative.