The Jeeves Omnibus - Vol 4: (Jeeves & Wooster): No.4 (67 page)

‘You know,’ she said, as we reached the open spaces, ‘we really ought to do something about Oates, something that would teach him that we’re not put into this world for pleasure alone. I can’t suggest what offhand, but if we put our heads together, we could think of
something.
You ought to stay on, Bertie, and help me bring his ginger hairs in sorrow to the grave.’

I raised an eyebrow.

‘As the guest of your Uncle Watkyn?’

‘You could muck in with Harold. There’s a spare room at that cottage place of his.’

‘Sorry, no.’

‘You won’t stay on?’

‘I will not. I intend to put as many miles as possible in as short a time as possible between Totleigh-in-the-Wold and myself. And it’s no good your using that expression “lily-livered poltroon”, because I am adamant.’

She made what I believe is called a
moue
. It’s done by pushing the lips out and drawing them in again.

‘I thought it wouldn’t be any use asking you. No spirit, that’s your trouble, no enterprise. I’ll have to get Harold to do it.’

And as I stood shuddering at the picture her words conjured up, she pushed off, exhibiting dudgeon. And I was still speculating as to what tureen of soup she was planning to land the sainted Pinker in and hoping that he would have enough sense to stay out of it, when Jeeves drove up in the car, a welcome sight.

‘Good morning, sir,’ he said. ‘I trust you slept well.’

‘Fitfully, Jeeves. Those plank beds are not easy on the fleshy parts.’

‘So I would be disposed to imagine, sir. And your disturbed night has left you ruffled, I am sorry to see. You are far from
soigné
.’

I could, I suppose, have said something about ‘Way down upon the
soigné
river,’ but I didn’t. My mind was occupied with deeper thoughts. I was in pensive mood.

‘You know, Jeeves,’ I said, ‘one lives and learns.’

‘Sir?’

‘I mean, this episode has been a bit of an eye-opener to me. It has taught me a lesson. I see now what a mistake one makes in labelling someone as a ruddy Gawd-help-us just because he normally behaves like a ruddy Gawd-help-us. Look closely, and we find humanity in the unlikeliest places.’

‘A broadminded view, sir.’

‘Take this Sir W. Bassett. In my haste, I have always pencilled him in as a hellhound without a single redeeming quality. But what do I find? He has this softer side to him. Having got Bertram out on a limb, he does not, as one would have expected, proceed to saw it off, but tempers justice with mercy, declining to press the charge. It has touched me a good deal to discover that under that forbidding exterior
there
lies a heart of gold. Why are you looking like a stuffed frog, Jeeves? Don’t you agree with me?’

‘Not altogether, sir, when you attribute Sir Watkyn’s leniency to sheer goodness of heart. There were inducements.’

‘I don’t dig you, Jeeves.’

‘I made it a condition that you be set at liberty, sir.’

My inability to dig him became intensified. He seemed to me to be talking through the back of his neck, the last thing you desire in a personal attendant.

‘How do you mean, condition? Condition of what?’

‘Of my entering his employment, sir. I should mention that during my visit to Brinkley Court Sir Watkyn very kindly expressed appreciation of the manner in which I performed my duties and made me an offer to leave your service and enter his. This offer, conditional upon your release, I have accepted.’

The police station at Totleigh-in-the-Wold is situated in the main street of that village, and from where we were standing I had a view of the establishments of a butcher, a baker, a grocer and a publican licensed to sell tobacco, ales and spirits. And as I heard these words, this butcher, this baker, this grocer and this publican seemed to pirouette before my eyes as if afflicted with St. Vitus dance.

‘You’re leaving me?’ I gasped, scarcely able to b. my e.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He seemed to be about to smile, but of course thought better of it.

‘Only temporarily, sir.’

Again I was unable to dig him.

‘Temporarily?’

‘I think it more than possible that after perhaps a week or so differences will arise between Sir Watkyn and myself, compelling me to resign my position. In that event, if you are not already suited, sir, I shall be most happy to return to your employment.’

I saw all. It was a ruse, and by no means the worst of them. His brain enlarged by constant helpings of fish, he had seen the way and found a formula acceptable to all parties. The mists cleared from before my eyes, and the butcher, the baker, the grocer and the publican licensed to sell tobacco, ales and spirits switched back again to what is called the status quo.

A rush of emotion filled me.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, and if my voice shook, what of it? We Woosters are but human, ‘you stand alone. Others abide our question, but you don’t, as the fellow said. I wish there was something I could do to repay you.’

He coughed that sheep-like cough of his.

‘There does chance to be a favour it is within your power to bestow, sir.’

‘Name it, Jeeves. Ask of me what you will, even unto half my kingdom.’

‘If you could see your way to abandoning your Alpine hat, sir.’

I ought to have seen it coming. That cough should have told me. But I hadn’t, and the shock was severe. For an instant I don’t mind admitting that I reeled.

‘You would go as far as that?’ I said, chewing the lower lip.

‘It was merely a suggestion, sir.’

I took the hat off and gazed at it. The morning sunlight played on it, and it had never looked so blue, its feather so pink.

‘I suppose you know you’re breaking my heart?’

‘I am sorry, sir.’

I sighed. But, as I have said, the Woosters can take it.

‘Very well, Jeeves. So be it.’

I gave him the hat. It made me feel like a father reluctantly throwing his child from the sledge to divert the attention of the pursuing wolf pack, as I believe happens all the time in Russia in the winter months, but what would you?

‘You propose to burn this Alpine hat, Jeeves?’

‘No, sir. To present it to Mr. Butterfield. He thinks it will be of assistance to him in his courtship.’

‘His what?’

‘Mr. Butterfield is courting a widowed lady in the village, sir.’

This surprised me.

‘But surely he was a hundred and four last birthday?’

‘He is well stricken in years, yes, sir, but nevertheless –’

‘There’s life in the old dog yet?’

‘Precisely, sir.’

My heart melted. I ceased to think of self. It had just occurred to me that in the circumstances I would be unable to conclude my visit by tipping Butterfield. The hat would fill that gap.

‘All right, Jeeves, give him the lid, and heaven speed his wooing. You might tell him that from me.’

‘I will make a point of doing so. Thank you very much, sir.’

‘Not at all, Jeeves.’

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Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9781407071435

First published in this collection 1992
© in this collection the Trustees of the P.G. Wodehouse Estate 1992
Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit
© P.G. Wodehouse 1954
Jeeves in the Offing
© P.G. Wodehouse 1960
Stiff Upper Lip Jeeves
© P.G. Wodehouse 1963

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23

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