Berry and Co Part 17

"Well, there's a bag of mine in the hall, and----"

"No, there isn't," said I.

"What d'you mean?" was the indignant retort.

"What I say. Our hall is bagless."

"I say," said the voice with laboured clarity, "I say there is a bag in the hall. A BAG. Hang it all, you know what a bag is?"

"Rather," said I heartily. "What you put nuts in. An uncle of mine had one."

The vehemence with which the unknown subscriber replaced his receiver was terrible to hear.

Ten minutes later Fitch entered the room.

"Can you get to the Albert Hall to-night, Fitch?" said Daphne.

"I think so, madam. If we go slow."

"Can you get back from the Albert Hall to-morrow afternoon?" said Berry.

"If I can get there, sir, I can get back."

"How long will it take?"

"I ought to do it in 'alf an hour, sir. I can push along in the Park, where it's all straight going. It's getting along the streets as'll take the time. It's not that I won't find me way, but it's the watchin' out for the hother vehicles, so as they don't run into you."

"Bit of an optimist, aren't you?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"Thank you, Fitch," said Daphne hastily. "Half-past nine, please."

"Very good, madam."

He bowed and withdrew.

Triumphantly my sister regarded her husband.

"At making a mountain out of a molehill," she said, "no one can touch you."

Berry returned her gaze with a malevolent stare. Then he put a thumb to his nose and extended his fingers in her direction.

The unfortunate incident occurred in the vicinity of Stanhope Gate.

So far we had come very slowly, but without incident, and, in spite of the fact that we were insufficiently clad, we were nice and warm. For this, so far as Berry and I were concerned, two footwarmers and a pair of rugs were largely responsible, for the elaborate nature of our costumes put the wearing of overcoats out of the question. A high-collared Italian cloak of the shape that was seen in the time of Elizabeth made it impossible for me to wear a _surtout_ of any description, and I was reduced to wrapping a m.u.f.fler about my neck and holding a woollen shawl across my chest, while Berry, in that puffed and swollen array, which instantly remembers Henry the Eighth, derived what comfort he could from an enormous cloak of Irish frieze which, while it left his chest uncovered, succeeded in giving him a back about four feet square.

Hitherto we had encountered little or no traffic, and an excellent judgment, coupled with something akin to instinct, on the part of Fitch had brought us surely along the streets; but here, almost before we knew it, there were vehicles in front and on either side. Hoa.r.s.e directions were being shouted, lanterns were being waved, engines were running, and a few feet away frantic endeavours were being made to persuade a pair of horses to disregard twin headlights whose brilliancy was adding to the confusion. Berry lowered the window.

"What about it, Fitch?"

"Well, sir, I'm just opposite the gate, but it's rather awkward to slip across, in case I meet somethin'. If I 'as to pull up 'alf-way, we might be run into."

"Which means that one of us must guide you over?"

"It'd be safer, sir."

By a majority of three it was decided that Berry should enact the _role_ of conducting officer. Jonah had a cold, and was sitting on the back seat between the girls. I had no coat, and required the services of both hands if I was to hold my shawl in position. Only my brother-in-law remained. He did not go down without a struggle, but after a vigorous but vain appeal "to our better natures," he compared himself to a lion beset by jackals, commented bitterly upon "the hot air which is breathed about self-sacrifice," and, directing that after death his veins should be opened in the presence of not less than twelve surgeons, as a preliminary to his interment in the Dogs' Cemetery, opened the door and stepped sideways into the roadway.

His efforts to remove the offside oil lamp, which was hot to the touch, were most diverting, and twice he returned to the window to ask us to make less noise. At last, however, with the a.s.sistance of Fitch, the lamp was unhooked, and a moment later our absurd link-boy advanced cautiously in the direction of the gate.

Fitch let in the clutch.

We must have been half-way across, when a lamp of extraordinary power came gliding up on the near side, confusing all eyes and altogether effacing our guiding light.

Fitch applied his brakes and cried out a warning. Instantly the lamp stopped, but its glare was blinding and our chauffeur was clearly afraid to move.

In a flash I was out of the car and holding my shawl over the face of the offender. At once Fitch took the car forward. As I fell in behind, I heard Berry's voice.

"Thank you. I hope I didn't jostle your 'bus. Yes, I am completely and utterly lost. No, I don't mind at all. I'm going to bale out the drinking-trough and sleep there. And in the morning they'll take me to the Foundling Hospital. Hullo. That's done it. Blind me first and then run me down. What are you? A travelling lighthouse or an air-raid? Want to get to Cannon Street? Well, I should go round by sea, if I were you.... Well, if you must know, I'm Mary Pickford about to be trodden to death in _Maelstrom_ or _Safety Last_. You know, you're not racing your engine enough. I can still hear myself think...."

His voice grew fainter and stopped.

Vigorously I shouted his name. A cold draught, and we swept into the Park. Fitch pulled up on the left-hand side.

"Berry, Berry!" I shouted.

In the distance I could hear voices, but no one answered me....

In response to my sister's exhortations I re-entered the car, and drew a rug over my shivering limbs. The others put their heads out of the windows and shouted for Berry in unison. There was no reply.

For a quarter of an hour we shouted at intervals. Then Jonah took the other lamp and returned to the gate. He did not reappear for ten minutes, and we were beginning to give him up, when to our relief he opened the door.

"No good," he said curtly. "We'd better get on. He's probably gone home."

"I suppose he's all right," said Daphne, in some uneasiness.

"You can't come to any harm on foot," said I. "Everything's going dead slow for its own sake. And when I last heard him, he was having the time of his life. Incidentally, as like as not, he'll strike a car that's going to the Ball and ask for a lift."

"I expect he will," said Jill. "There must be any amount on the way."

"All right," said my sister. "Tell Fitch to carry on."

Twenty minutes later that good helmsman set us down at the main entrance to the Albert Hall.