House That Berry Built (14 page)

I walked home thoughtfully.

Another retaining wall – this time, some fifteen feet high: a semi-circular wall, for the sides must be retained, as well as the back. And a good, stout wall, to hold the mountain itself from sliding on to the house…

And that is, of course, what happens when people seek to build houses where houses were not meant to be built. Cottages may perch on or cling to a mountainside: but a residence must be built into the mountain itself. And there you come up against Nature. It looks so simple. But to cut twenty feet from a mountain whose rise is, say, three in four and to slope your excavation to four in five – well, a mathematician would have done the sum in his head; but we were not mathematicians and so had not realized that there was a sum to be done.

I could not do the sum now: but, if I could, I would not. For no one who did not know would allow that my answer was right. All I can say is this – that if anyone feels that he must have an amphitheatre, let him send for bricks and mortar and have the thing built: but never let him scoop one out of a mountainside. But, you will say, that is idle, for there is the backing all ready and, before he begins to scoop, his work is half done. I know. That is what we thought… Of course we had no choice. The mountain was there, and the mountain had to be removed. But I never would have believed there was so much soil.

At mid-day on Wednesday Joseph made his report.

“I spoke to Levillon, Monsieur – the son-in-law of Ulysse. The meadow is owned by a forester, Pernot by name. He lives at Lally, in the Street of the Waterfall. Levillon saw him last night and told him what we had agreed. But Pernot cut him short. He is sorry to disoblige Monsieur, but he does not intend to sell.”

“Good lord,” said I.

Joseph shook his head.

“I find it astonishing, Monsieur. As Monsieur knows, I never expected that. And Levillon, too, is astounded. It is not, for instance, a question of sentiment, for the field is not family land. Pernot only purchased it four years ago. But the man was most definite.”

I fingered my chin.

“This is very awkward,” I said. “I mean, if we could be sure that he will stick to his guns – well, that’s all right. If the man doesn’t want to sell, that is his affair. But if somebody else comes along and tempts him with a big price…”

“I know,” said Joseph. “And that is what worries me. Not all are so scrupulous as Monsieur. If somebody wants that meadow and they take the good Pernot to a
café
and thrust the notes under his nose… And Monsieur will wake up one morning and find that the field is sold – sold for less, perhaps, than Monsieur was willing to pay.”

“And yet,” said I, “what can we do? We can’t…”

The sentence was never finished.

Two strangers were standing in Naboth, men of the town. Their car, which was chauffeur-driven, was waiting below in the road. With a sweep of his arm, one was indicating the prospects… Then they turned to survey the meadow. After a little conversation, one of them took his stand, and the other began to pace forward – precisely as we had done before we had purchased our site.

In Which Berry Sits Down with a Bear,

and it is a Very Near Thing

I cannot describe the consternation which my news was to cause at Bel Air.

Jonah was at Pau for the day, but Berry, Daphne and Jill were seated upon the small terrace, discussing photographs of bathrooms and arguing about tiled floors.

As I concluded my tale—

“D’you mean they’re there now?” cried Daphne.

“Well, they were when I left,” said I. “I tell you, they were pacing the field. From the length of the façade, as they paced it, I’m not at all sure they’re not out to build a hotel.”

Jill clapped her hands to her face.

“A hotel? Up there? Beside us? Oh, Boy, that would be the end – before we’d begun.”

“I know,” I said. “It wouldn’t be worth going on.”

“Don’t stand there talking,” said Berry. “What do we do?”

“We must try and get hold of Pernot – before they do.”

“But Pernot says he won’t sell.”

“If he really means that, we’re safe. But if those two wallahs mean business…”

“We must bump them off,” said Berry. “Invite them on to the platform an’ – an’ help them down.”

“Don’t be a fool,” said Daphne. “Besides, they’re only the first. You can’t murder everyone who wants to purchase that field.”

“I could,” said Berry. “Easily. Still, I see your point. If we did it too often, we might get wrong with the Mayor.”

“We must try and see Pernot,” I said. “He might give us the first refusal, and that would mean we were safe.”

With my words, came the sound of a car, descending the road from Besse.

In silence we watched it go by.

Its occupants were very plainly in excellent cue, for they were lolling and laughing, as men who have stolen some march.

“My God,” I breathed. “Don’t say they’ve got Pernot’s address?”

“Where does he live?” said Daphne.

“Bang opposite us,” said I. “They’ll have to go by his house.”

“And he will be there. He’s bound to come home for dinner. They always do.”

“If I know them, they’ll have their lunch first. We’re safe until half-past one.”

And there we heard a step upon the terrace…

Joseph.

Béret in hand, he bowed to Daphne and Jill.

“Mesdames will excuse me,” he said, “for coming upon them like this. But it is about that meadow. They are seeking to buy it – those two that have just gone by. They overtook me on the road, as I was walking to Lally, before I had reached the short cut which I always take. And they stopped the car and asked me to whom the meadow belonged. And – God forgive me – I told them that it was owned by a cousin of mine…the Mayor of Louvie-Juzon, halfway between here and Pau. He does own a meadow up here, but that is far above, on the upper road. And today he will be at Oloron – that I know. But I did not tell them that. So we have, I hope, twenty-four hours. But Monsieur must get hold of Pernot as quickly as ever he can.”

“Well done, indeed, Joseph,” said I.

“Monsieur may talk like that when the meadow is his. I said that I hoped that we had twenty-four hours. But we may have less. Monsieur the Captain and I were not the only two who saw them pacing that field. And tongues are now wagging in Lally…” Joseph drew himself up. “I go to my dinner now – and to find out where Pernot may be. I will come again on my way back, at ten minutes to two.” He bowed to Daphne and Jill. “
Bon appétit
, Mesdames, Messieurs.”

“
Bon appétit
, Joseph, and thank you so very much.”

And then he was gone, padding down the miniature drive…

At a quarter to two he reported that Pernot’s wife was at Nareth and that Pernot himself was cutting wood in the mountains and might spend the night in a cabin up on the hills.

“Tell me,” said I. “Those strangers were business men. They will go to Louvie-Juzon to see your cousin at once. We know that he will not be there. But will he be there tonight?”

“Oh, yes, sir. About six o’clock.”

“Well, if they await his return – as I think I should do – because they are business men, they will soon find out their mistake.”

“I confess that is likely,” said Joseph.

“Then what will they do?”

“I think that tomorrow morning they will visit the Land Registry at Pau. They will show the clerks the meadow upon the Cadastral Plan. And the clerk will tell them at once who the owner is. And in two hours they will be here with Pernot’s name and address.” Here Joseph lugged out his watch. “Monsieur will excuse me, but I must be on my way.”

“We’ll come with you,” said I; “and talk as we go.”

As we walked up the road towards Besse—

“This is damned serious,” said Berry. “Where exactly is Pernot at work?”

Joseph shrugged his shoulders.

“Levillon would probably know, but, as luck will have it, I gave him the afternoon off, to go to Bielle. But we will try Ulysse.”

Five minutes later, Ulysse was standing before us, cap in hand.

“My son-in-law,” he said, “is a fool. Pernot will sell. But Monsieur must talk with him. Tomorrow, if not today, he will be at his house.”

“Where is he now, Ulysse?”

“Directly opposite, Monsieur.” He pointed to the forest-clad mountain, facing the site. “There are two plateaus up there, though they do not appear. And he is at work in a dip to the left of the first. He is cutting wood for my cousin, who has a plot there.”

“Why, we – we might run into him,” said Berry. “We had meant to walk up to the plateau this afternoon.”

Ulysse turned to glance at the sun.

“If Monsieur means to do that, he should start at once. To reach the first plateau from Lally, we reckon an hour and a half; and the moment the sun goes down, it is very dark in those woods.”

“Come on,” said Berry, turning. “So you think he will sell, Ulysse?”

The old fellow smiled.

“If Monsieur talks with him – yes.”

Twenty minutes later, Jill set us down in Lally, at the foot of what guidebooks call ‘The Vista Promenade’.

The Vista Promenade.

This is, of course, a misnomer. In the first place, there are no vistas, for the forest stands thick about you from first to last. In the second place, a promenade suggests an effortless stroll. It does not suggest a steep zig-zag quite three miles long, the surface of which is copiously studded with rocks and strewn with roots of trees and is frequently not to be seen for the falls of soil from above.

With one eye, so to speak, on the clock, we climbed as fast as we could, and, cool as it was in the forest, were very soon streaming with sweat.

“We’ll never do it,” said Berry. “And if we do, we’ll never get down alive. We can’t do this stuff in the dark.”

“I’ve a torch in my pocket,” I said.

At the end of the first half-hour I decreed a five-minute rest.

Berry leaned against the wall of the zig-zag and closed his eyes.

“We should,” I said, “be about a third of the way. D’you think you can make the plateau?”

“I’ve got to,” said Berry. “You can’t go on alone. It’s as good a place as I’ve seen for breaking a leg.”

“We can turn back,” I said. “And hope very hard that Pernot comes home tonight.”

“That won’t do. If he doesn’t come back tonight and those skunks get on to him tomorrow… Oh, no. It’s too big a risk. If that meadow is built in, we’re sunk. So we’ve got to go on.” He drew in his breath. “
Sic itur ad astra
. We seemed to be doomed to a series of fights against time. Look at that blasted platform. We tore ourselves to pieces, to get it done. And now this desirable field. No leisurely discussions in a café. Not on your life. A spurt up the flanks of Hell against the clock. And no alternative. Never mind. I’ll say it’s worth it, to own that field.”

In that spirit, we made our way on.

The higher we went, the rougher became the path.

By the time we had climbed for an hour, I was by no means sure of the wisdom of going on. By what Ulysse had said, we ought to reach the first plateau by four o’clock. But, after that, we must find the dip to the left: and at four o’clock the sun would be going down behind the range of mountains which stood to the west.

And what tale could we tell to Pernot, if we ever located the man? If we said we had come to see him, the fellow would smell a rat. Unless there was a great deal at stake, no two men in their senses would make such a journey so fast. Yet I did not feel up to finesse. I was not exhausted, but I should have been glad to sit down and collect my wits. And though Berry would not show it, I knew that he was distressed. Yet, to turn back now seemed dreadful. I know few things more repugnant than to take your hand from the plough…

So, after a rest of five minutes, we held on our way.

At two minutes to four, the trees fell back about us, and almost at once the path ran on to the plateau for which we were bound.

Berry made his way to a tree-stump and sat himself down.

“Not too bad,” he panted, and wrung the sweat from his face. “Am I to understand that people do this for pleasure?”

“They go up to the second plateau and over the top and down.”

“
Chacun à son goût
,” said Berry. “You might tell me if you see a bear coming. Not that I can attempt to elude him – my legs won’t work. But I can discourse to the brute. They say that bears are sympathetic – I don’t know whether it’s true.”

“I seem to have heard that the best thing is to ignore them.”

“Oh, be your age,” said Berry. “You can’t ignore a bear in a spot like this. I know they don’t eat flesh if they can get roots: but supposing we meet one that’s slimming or short of Vitamin B.” He looked round uneasily. “You know, I’m not mad about these precincts. They’re simply made for a bear-garden.”

In the failing light, the place was unattractive. So far as I saw, the trees prevented all view, and the turf was scrubby and was strewn about with boulders and the aged remnants of trees.

‘A dip to the left.’

I pricked my ears, to listen for the stroke of an axe. But the silence was absolute. If Pernot was hereabouts, he had finished work for the day. And there I did not blame him. Dusk was about to come in. Which meant that, if we were to find him, we had no time to lose.

“Ready?” said I.

“One minute more,” said Berry. “It’s the first time I’ve rested in a bear-garden, and as, if I can help it, I shall never do so again… Look at that lump of timber. It looks just like a bear in this ‘dim, religious light’. It’s probably a statue of the brute that founded this place.”

I must confess that it did resemble a bear. No doubt, had the light been stronger…

Here the ‘statue’ rose to its feet and ambled away.

Together we watched its departure in the most pregnant silence that I have ever known.

As it disappeared in the shadows—

“Thank you very much,” said Berry. “And now I can’t help feeling we might be getting back. They can build a fishmarket in Naboth for all I care. As for looking about for dips—”

A footstep beside us made us jump out of our skins.

Then a pleasant voice spoke in French.

“Just as well, Messieurs, that he was too sleepy to care. He has had his rest in the sun and has gone for a drink. But Messieurs are late. They were not proposing to go higher?”

“Er – another time,” said Berry. “You can go on?”

“Yes, indeed,” said the other, whom I was quite sure was Pernot, because of the axe he bore. “The second plateau is half an hour’s walk from here. And then you go over and down the other side. The young de Moulin will tell you.” He threw up his head and laughed. “But I think I address the messieurs who saved that young wretch’s life.”

“He did that,” said Berry, laying a hand on my arm.

Pernot put out his right hand.

“I am glad to meet you,” he said. “It was a valiant deed. And your life was worth more than his.”

As I set my hand in his—

“But how do you know us?” said I. “And what is your name?”

“My name is Pernot, Monsieur.”

“Pernot!” cried Berry. “Are you the Pernot that owns the field next to ours?”

“That is right, Monsieur. We are neighbours.
Ma foi
, but you are building a wonderful home.”

“It would be much more wonderful if you would sell us your field.”

Pernot lowered his axe and lifted his eyes to the sky.

“Ah, that. Yes, Levillon told me. And I said no. There are complications, Monsieur. And then you know, that field is a beautiful field. Compared with some I could mention, it is a paradise.”

“True,” said I. “It is a very nice field. But we are prepared to pay a very nice price. What are these complications, of which you speak?”

“Always there are complications, or so I find.”

“Well, I can’t see them,” said Berry. “But you are the best judge of that. All the same, we should like to have it. I don’t wish to press you, Pernot; but – well, I know that you bought it.” Pernot started. “It isn’t as if it was your family’s land.”

Pernot looked round. Then—

“Monsieur knows that I bought it?”

“Well, so I’ve been told.”

“It is true,” cried Pernot. “I did. I paid the good money over – four years ago. By the laws of God it is mine.”

“By the laws of God?” said I. “And what of the laws of men?”

Pernot smote with his axe upon the ground.

“I have no title,” he said. “The sale was not registered. I thought to save the money the registration would cost. And now, when that rogue of a Busquet—”

“Wait a moment,” said Berry. “Whom did you buy it from?”

“I am telling Monsieur. I bought it off Émile Busquet, the son-in-law of old Puyou, who died last year. He lives in Paris, Monsieur, and he is not a nice man. When it comes to his knowledge that Monsieur desires this field, he will hand back the money I paid him and sell it to Monsieur himself.”

“Do you hold his receipt?” I said.

“I have it at home, Monsieur. Everything is in order – except for the registration I did not do.” He hesitated. “I have been frank with Monsieur.”

“I’m thankful you have,” said Berry. “We’ll go to Monsieur de Moulin and see what he can do to help us over the jump.”