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The question was appropriate, but unanswerable.
His mother lugged him incontinently away.
Berry was confronting one of the largest ladies I have ever seen. As he began to speak, she interrupted him.
"_Vous etes Meestair Baxtair, n'est-ce pas? Ah, c'est bien ca. J'avais si peur de ne pas vous trouver. Mais maintenant je suis tranquille. Mon mari me suit. Ah, le voila!_" She turned about, the better to beckon to a huge man with two bags and a hold-all. "_Pierre! Pierre_!"
Beneath the avalanche of good-will Berry stood paralysed.
Recognizing that something must be done, I sought to interfere.
"Leave me alone," said Berry weakly. "I've--I've got off."
It took all my energy and most of my French to convince his _vis-a-vis_ that she was mistaken.
During the interlude about fifteen "possibles" escaped us.
I threw a despairing glance in Jill's direction, wiped the sweat from my brow, and returned to the attack.
After four more failures my nerve began to go. Miserably I turned to my brother-in-law.
He was in the act of addressing a smart-looking girl in black, bearing a brand-new valise and some wilting roses.
Before she had had time to appreciate his inquiry there was a choking yell from the gangway, and a very dark gentleman, with an Italian cast of countenance, thrust his explosive way on to the pier.
My knowledge of his native tongue was limited to _carissimo, spaghetti_, and one or two musical directions, but from the vehemence of his tone and the violence of his dramatic gestures it was plain that the torrent which foamed from his lips was both menacing and abusive. From the shape of the case which he was clutching beneath his left arm, I judged him to be an exponent of the guitar.
Advancing his nose to within an inch and a half of Berry's chin he blared and raved like a maniac, alternately pointing to his shrinking _protegee_ and indicating the blue vault of heaven with frightful emphasis.
Berry regarded him unperturbed. As he paused for breath--
"In answer to your observations," he said, "I can only say that I am not a Mormon and have absolutely no connection with Salt Lake City. I may add that, if you are partial to garlic, it is a taste which I have never acquired. In conclusion, I hope that, before you reach the platform for which you are apparently making, you will stumble over one of the ridiculously large rings with which the quay is so generously provided, and will not only suffer the most hideous agony, but remain permanently lame as a result of your carelessness."
The calm dignity with which he delivered this speech had an almost magical effect upon the jealous Latin. His bl.u.s.ter sank suddenly and died. Muttering to himself and staring at Berry as at a wizard, he seized the girl by the arm and started to move rapidly away, wide-eyed and ill at ease.... With suppressed excitement and the tail of my eye, I watched him bear down upon one of the stumbling-blocks to which Berry had referred. The accuracy with which he approached it was almost uncanny. I found myself standing upon one leg.... The screech of anguish with which he hailed the collision, no less than the precipitancy with which he dropped the guitar, sat down and began to rock himself to and fro, was irresistibly gratifying.
The muscles about Berry's mouth twitched.
"So perish all traitors," he said. "And now I don't know how you feel, but I've had about enough of this. My nerves aren't what they were.
Something may snap any minute."
With one accord we proceeded to rejoin Jill, who had been witnessing our humiliations from a safe distance, and was dabbing her grey eyes with a ridiculous handkerchief.
As we came up, she started forward and pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the boat. Berry and I swung on our heels.
Looking very well, Jonah was descending the gangway with a bored air.
My brother-in-law and I stared at him as at one risen from the dead.
Almost at once he saw us and waved airily.... A moment later he limped to where we were standing and kissed his sister.
"I had an idea some of you'd turn up," he said coolly.
Berry turned to me.
"You hear?" he said grimly. "He had an idea some of us'd turn up. An idea ... I suppose a little bird told him. Oh, take me away, somebody, and let me die. Let me have one last imitation meal, and die. Where do they sell wild oats?"
Jonah disregarded the interruption.
"At the last moment," he said calmly, "I felt there might be some mix-up, so I came along too." He turned and nodded at a nervous little man who was standing self-consciously a few paces away and, as I now observed for the first time, carrying my cousin's dressing-case. "That,"
he added, "is Camille."
His momentous announcement rendered us speechless. At length--
"You--you mean to say," I gasped, "that--that it's a man?"
Jonah shrugged his shoulders.
"Look at his trousers," he said.
"But--but of course we expected a woman," cried Jill in a choking voice.
"We can't have a _chef_."
"Nothing," said Jonah, "was said about s.e.x."
Berry spoke in a voice shaken with emotion.
"A man," he said. "A he-cook, called 'Camille.' And it actually occurred to you that 'there might be some mix-up.' You know, your intuition is positively supernatural. And it is for this," he added bitterly, "that I have dissipated in ten crowded minutes a reputation which it has taken years to ama.s.s. It is for this that I have deliberately insulted several respectable ladies, jeopardized the _Entente Cordiale_, and invited personal violence of a most unpleasant character. To do this I shall have travelled about a hundred and fifty miles, with the shade temperature at ninety, and lost what would have been an undoubtedly pleasant and possibly extremely fruitful day at Sandown Park. Don't be afraid. I wouldn't touch you for worlds. You're being reserved for some very special form of dissolution, you are. She-bears, or something. I should avoid woods, any way. And now I'm going home. To-morrow I shall start on a walking tour, with a spare sock and some milk chocolate, and try to forget. If that fails, I shall take the snail--I mean the veil."
He turned on his heel and stalked haughtily in the direction of the boat train.
Gurgling with merriment, Jill laid a hand on my arm.
"Daphne will simply scream," she said.
"If this little stunt has cost us Pauline," said I, "she won't leave it at that."
We turned to follow my brother-in-law.
Jonah beckoned to Camille.
"_Venez. Restez pres de moi,_" he said.
On arriving at Charing Cross we left Jonah and the cook to weather the Customs, and drove straight to Cholmondeley Street.
As we entered the hall, my sister came flying out of the library.
"h.e.l.lo," she cried, "where's the cook? Don't say----"
Berry uncovered.