Chapter 6

HOW NOBBY ATTENDED A WEDDING, AND BERRY SPOKE NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.

"If I am to drive," said Jonah, "I won't be responsible for doing it in a minute under two hours." He looked down at Nobby, who, with a section of one of my shoe-trees in his mouth, was importuning him to play by the simple expedient of thrusting the bauble against the calf of his leg. "My good dog, if you expect me to interrupt an agreeable breakfast to join you in the one-sided game of which you never tire, you are doomed to disappointment. Go and worry your owner."

With a reproachful look the terrier took his advice and, trotting across to the sideboard, laid his toy at my feet and looked up expectantly. I hardened my heart.

"It is not my practice," said I, "to gambol upon an empty stomach. Try Jill."

Slowly the brown eyes sank from mine to the bottom button of my waistcoat. As I moved to my place, plate in hand, he gave a protesting bark, which was answered by a fox-terrier from the box-seat of a passing van. In a flash Nobby was upon the sill of the open window, hurling defiance at the intruder.

"Is he coming with us?" said Daphne.

"I don't see why he shouldn't. We can leave him at Hillingdon while we're at Church. By the way, what time does the balloon go up?"

"The marriage," said Jonah, "is to be solemnized at two o'clock. As I said a moment ago, it'll take us two hours to get there. If we start at eleven, that'll give us an hour to brush one another, lunch and rehearse the series of genial banalities with which it is the habit of wedding-guests to insult one another's intelligence."

"I believe," said Jill, "I heard the telephone."

I called upon Nobby to suspend his fury, and we all listened. Sure enough, a long spasm of ringing came simultaneously from the library and the lobby in the back hall.

"I shouldn't be surprised," said I, "if that was the Club, to tell me I've drawn a runner in the three-pound sweep." And, with that, I left my kidneys and repaired to the library.

"Can I speak to Major Pleydell?" said a voice.

"Who is it, please?"

"The Waddell Institute speaking."

"Oh, yes. Will you hold the line?"

I went to the foot of the stairs and shouted for Berry. There was no reply. In some annoyance I ascended the first flight and shouted again. From behind a closed door his voice answered me. It was with a malicious pleasure that I located its origin....

A moment later I opened the bathroom door.

From the depths of a luxurious bath Berry regarded me.

"That's right," he said. "You come in. Don't take any notice of me. And don't shut the door, or the servants won't be able to see in."

"You are wanted," said I, "upon the telephone."

"How interesting!" said Berry. "I suppose you told them to hold on."

"I did."

He sank into a recumbent position and crossed his legs.

"What a marvellous thing," he said, "the telephone is. There's that fool, Heaven knows how many miles away, sitting with his ear glued to a piece of vulcanite, and here am I in the midst of an exacting toilet--d'you think he'd hear me if I were to shout? Or would you rather take a message?"

"It is," said I, "the Waddell Institute."

The savagery with which my brother-in-law invested a very ordinary expletive was quite remarkable.

"Why," he added, sitting upright, "cannot they ring up at a lawful hour? Why must they----"

The sentence was never finished. With the rush of a whirlwind, Nobby tore into the room. His delight at having run me to earth was transformed to ecstasy at encountering unexpectedly another member of the household, hitherto missing from his tale, and, observing that the latter's face was a reasonable distance from the ground, and so less inaccessible than usual, the Sealyham leapt upon the rim of the bath to offer the lick of greeting which it was his practice to bestow.

The result was inevitable.

Nobby tried to save himself by reaching for Berry's shoulder with his forepaws, but at the critical moment his buffer flinched, the paws fell short of their objective, and with a startled grunt the terrier fell heavily into the bath, his desperate claws leaving two long abrasions upon his victim's ribs.

The scene that followed baffles description.

Berry began to roar like a wounded bull, while a bedraggled Nobby scrambled and blew and slipped and scratched, caring not at all what was his understanding, so long as it provided a foothold and kept his head above water.

"He thinks I'm a straw!" yelled Berry. "He's catching at me. Don't stand there like a half-baked corner-boy. Get him _out_!"

But I was helpless with laughter, from which I only recovered in time to rescue the offender, who, with the bath to himself, was swimming sturdily in the deep water and scrabbling fruitlessly on the porcelain, while Berry, in a bath-dressing-gown and a loud voice, identified and enumerated the several scratches upon his person.

"For Heaven's sake," said I, "go and answer the telephone."

"I shall die," said Berry, slipping his feet into a pair of pumps. "I shall get pneumonia (bis) and die. I got into that bath in the prime, as it were, the very heyday of life. And now.... At least, I shall be in the fashion. 'The body of the deceased bore signs of extreme physical violence.' Any more for the crime wave?"

I wrapped Nobby in my brother-in-law's towel and followed the latter downstairs.

My sister was standing in the library's doorway.

"What on earth," she demanded, "has been the matter?"

I held up my hand.

"Listen."

Berry was speaking upon the telephone.

"Is that the Waddell Institute? I am so very sorry--I might almost say distracted--that you should have been kept waiting.... You see, I've just been mauled.... No. Not 'called,' mauled. Emma, ak, u, l for leather--I beg your pardon. Yes, isn't it tawful? Well, if you must know, it was a bloodhound. They told me at the Dogs' Home that he'd lost his scent as a result of the air raids, but last night the charwoman gave him a sausage I'd left, and he pulled me down this morning.... Yes. This is Major Pleydell.... Oh, Walter Thomas Dale? Yes, I remember perfectly.... Received the requisite number of votes? Splendid.... Can be admitted on the fifteenth of June? Thanks very much.... What?... Oh, I shall pull round. Yes, thanks. I shall just get the wounds plugged, and.... Good-bye."

We heard the receiver replaced.

"Hurray!" cried Daphne. "I am glad. That's a real load off my mind. Write and tell them this morning, will you?" I looked up from the operation of drying Nobby and nodded. "Poor people, they'll be so thankful. And now, what happened upstairs?"

"Mixed bathing," said I. "Your husband had not left the bath when Nobby entered it. Both were frightened, but neither was hurt."

As I spoke, Berry emerged from the library with a cigarette in his mouth.

"My milk-white skin," he said, "has been defaced. My beautiful trunk has been lacerated as with jagged nails. You know, I tremble for that dog's soul. It mayn't be his fault, but it's invariably my misfortune." He turned to my sister. "You heard about Walter Thomas? Good. And now I shall slip on some iodine and underclothes and come down as I am."

"Jonah says we must leave at eleven," said Daphne. "For goodness' sake, don't be late."

"My wedding garments are prepared and but await my entry. The sponge-bag trousers are unrolled, the elastic-sided boots untreed, the made-up tie dusted. Of course, we're taking Nobby?"

I looked up from my charge, who was by this time fairly dry and as full of beans as an egg is of meat.

"Of course."

"Of course. You never know. I might get run over. That'd give him an opening."

"Here," said I, "is your towel. He's all right now."

Carefully Berry fingered the fabric.

"He was wet, wasn't he?" he said. "Yes. I suppose I can dry myself on the curtains. I wonder which of us he would bite if I were to assault you." He hung the towel over his arm, picked up the terrier and looked into his eyes. "You wicked scrap! Why, he's not nearly dry yet." Nobby licked his face. "Come along up with uncle, and we'll share the bath-mat."

The two disappeared up the staircase, wrangling amicably regarding my brother-in-law's right to pull the terrier's whiskers.

"You won't forget to write, will you?" said Daphne, as we returned to the dining-room.

"I promise," said I. "You shall see the letter."

Trooper Dale, W., had been in my squadron in the field, and for three weeks he had taken my first servant's place. Incidentally he had also taken two pounds ten shillings in notes, which I frankly admit I had no business to have left in my pocket. Taxed with the theft, he had broken down and told me a piteous tale.

A delicate wife and a little boy with curvature of the spine needed every honest halfpenny that could be turned--and more also. Between a chauffeur's wages and his Army pay there was fixed a great gulf, and--well, it was hard to know that the child was suffering for want of nourishment.

I caused inquiries to be made. A convenient aunt investigated the case and found it genuine. Between us we did what we could. Then, on her return from Egypt, my sister visited the family and reported that they would be most thankful if the child could be admitted to a first-class home. With the Waddell Institute Berry had Influence, and at last a coveted vacancy had been obtained....

Before we left for Monk's Honour I composed a suitable letter to the ex-trooper, telling him that his little boy could soon be received into an institution, from which there was every reason to believe that he would eventually emerge comparatively restored to health.

* * * * *

It was a lovely day. And we were glad of it, for at two o'clock my Cousin Madrigal was to be married from the old house where she was born, and in the old church In which she was baptized. A special train was being run from London, but Monk's Honour lay four miles from the nearest station, and it was doubtful if the supply of cars and carriages would prove equal to the demand. Therefore we had decided to go down by road. With my uncle's land marched the well-timbered acres of Hillingdon, where the Tanyons lived, and they had very kindly invited us to luncheon, so that we should not descend untimely upon a simmering household. In their keeping we proposed to leave Nobby and the car. The house was only five minutes' walk from the church and as many again from Madrigal's home, so that once we had reached the village we should need no conveyance until the time came for us to return to Town.

For a wonder we were all on time, and it was barely eleven o'clock when Jonah let in the clutch and the Rolls began to move. Daphne sat in front, and Jill between Berry and me on the back seat. The girls wore dust-cloaks to save their finery, and two large bandboxes concealed their respective hats. Berry, Jonah and I wore light overcoats above our morning-dress, and three tall hats, ironed to perfection, each in his stiff white hat-box, jostled one another on the mat at our feet. A smaller box by their side contained three blooming gardenias.

Once clear of London Jonah gave the Rolls her head, and we were soon floating through the midst of blowing cherry orchards and fragrant hop gardens, which of the great sun were quick with radiance.

The deeper we plunged into the countryside, the richer this became. Here was a treasure of woodland, and there a wealth of pasture: grey lichened walls hoarded a precious park, keeping the timid deer in generous custody: a silver stream stole between smiling hayfields, crept shadowed and cool under the dusty road and, beyond, braided a spreading cloth of golden buttercups, that glowed with a soft brilliancy, such as no handicraft on earth could coax from the hard heart of costly metal.

Presently we left the main road to sail up a curling hill, and over and down past a fair steading into a friendly valley, where the cattle stood drowsy under the shelter of giant chestnut trees, and luxuriant hawthorns in full blossom filled all the neighbouring air with timely sweetness. At the bidding of an aged finger-post Jonah turned to the left, and a moment later the car was scudding up a leafy lane, high-banked, narrow, and soon so screened and arched with foliage that in a little we were being swept through a veritable tunnel, seemingly driven through the living green. More than once the lane changed direction, but the tunnel held: the ground was rising, but we sailed on, the steady purr of the engine swelling into a low snarl as we swung to right and left between the cool green walls....

As we slid through Marvel, the clock of the old grey church showed us that it was five and twenty to one. We were in good time, for now but a short seven miles lay between us and the village which we sought.

Jonah settled himself in his seat and prepared to cover the last lap at an easier pace....

Before we had realized what was happening, it was all over.

The road which we were using ran at right angles into a better-class way by the side of an old oast-house. Here, for Monk's Honour, we must turn to the left. Jonah, prince of drivers, slowed for the turn and sounded his horn carefully, for ours was the lesser road. As we rounded the corner there was a deafening roar, a cry, a violent shock, a splintering crash, the Rolls quivered like a ship that has struck, and a great green touring car tore past and was gone in a cloud and a flurry of dust before we had come to rest with our near fore-wheel eighteen inches up the near-side bank.

Dazedly I watched a little white dog with a black patch take a flying leap into the road, stumble, pick himself up, and hurl himself in the wake of the monster, barking furiously. Then the whirling dust swallowed him up, and I saw him no more.

"LF 8057," said Daphne. "LF 8057. Write it down, somebody. Quick. LF 8057."

"That's right," said Jonah. "I got it too. LF 8057."

In silence I dragged a pencil out of my pocket and with trembling fingers wrote down the precious figures on the back of an envelope.

"Anybody hurt?" continued Jonah, screwing himself round to look at the back seat.

"We're all right," said I. "But it was a close call."

"The brute!" cried Jill passionately. "The beastly stinking----"

Berry spoke between his clenched teeth in a voice shaken with choler.

"We'll have that blistered swine if we have to drag hell for him. For all he knows, the car's overturned and on fire, and we're pinned under it. It's German. Pure full-blooded German. It's the most verminous thing I've ever dreamed of. It's----Burn it! Words fail me."

He rose and got out of the car. I followed him and helped Jill to alight. She was a little pale, and, when she saw the havoc on the off-side, her eyes began to fill with tears.

I put my arm about her.

"Don't worry, darling. It looks worse than it is. And we'll have that merchant's blood. We've got his number."

Daphne came up to comfort her, and Jonah, after a cursory glance at the damage, limped to the opposite side of the road, sat down on the bank, and lighted a cigarette.

"What was he doing?" said Berry, his face still a dark red.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Shouldn't like to say. Maybe seventy. Maybe more. But it was a frightful pace." I pointed along the road to left and right. "See how it curves. And we're on the outside of the bend. To clear us at that pace, he'd 've had to go over himself."

"How can we hit him best?"

"All round. We can summon him under the Motor Car Acts and bring a civil action for damages. He ought to go down heavily."

"No escape?"

"I should say we've got him cold."

Berry heaved a long sigh and clapped me on the back.

"I feel better already," he said.

Before doing anything else, Jonah and I subjected the Rolls to a careful examination.

Both wings and the running-board on the off-side had been ripped off, and the front axle was bent by the side of the steering-pin. The off fore-wheel had apparently been struck on the tire, and the fact that neither of the fore-wheels had collapsed spoke volumes for their sturdy construction. The shock, however, had put the steering-gear out of action. So far as we could tell, that was the extent of the damage. Whether any further injuries would later appear, it was impossible to say.

I crossed to the girls and Berry, who were seated disconsolate upon the bank on the opposite side of the road. Heavily I made my report.

"There's only one thing to do," I concluded. "I must leg it to Marvel and see if I can raise a couple of mechanics, some tools, and a car. I can drive back with them, and then we can leave them here and all go on in the hireling to Hillingdon. We shan't get any lunch, but we'll be in time for the wedding, with luck. By the time we get back from Monk's Honour, if the fellows know their job, we ought to be able to get the Rolls to Marvel under her own power. From there she'll have to come up to Town by rail. And we can go back by the special, whenever it leaves."

As I finished speaking, Jill gave a little cry, and I turned to see a small white scrap, way down the long white road, plodding wearily in our direction. It was our Champion. As he came nearer, it was obvious that he was much exhausted. More than once he stumbled, and a red tongue lolled from his gaping jaws; but his little tail was up, and, as he toiled gamely towards us, he wagged it to and fro by way of greeting. Of one accord we welcomed him with a cheer. Obviously gratified by our appreciation, Nobby smiled an unmistakable smile and, wagging his tail more vigorously than before, quickened his flagging steps. A moment later he thrust a dusty nose against my extended hand and, bowing his tousled head sideways by way of homage, rolled over on his back and lay panting in the shade at my feet.

"Good little chap," said I, stroking his heaving flank. "It didn't take you long to get a move on."

"You darling!" said Jill, stooping to caress him "The way you went after that car was just heroic."

"I suppose," said Berry, "that if I were to suggest that he knew perfectly well that he couldn't catch it, and that it was nothing more than a brilliant display of eye-wash, I should be abused."

"What a shame!" cried Daphne and Jill in a breath. "What a beastly shame!"

"I said so," said Berry. "Now, if I'd got out and chased it, you'd have had me certified."

"I agree," I retorted. "And if you were to offer to walk to Marvel instead of me, I should have you watched."

"Don't be afraid," was the rejoinder. "The shock was severe, but I'm not as bad as that. How soon d'you think you'll be back?"

I turned to my sister.

"I'm banking on being able to get a car. But there mayn't be one. So, if you can get a lift, don't wait." I pointed to Nobby. "He'll want to come with me, so hang on to him. And if you could find some water"--I glanced at the oast-house--"I think he'd be glad of it."

"All right, dear. Take it as easy as you can."

A moment later I was striding along the Marvel road.

By the time I had covered the two miles it was a quarter past one, and I was unpleasantly hot. I was also conscious of being improperly dressed in an unusually loose grey overcoat, tweed cap, striped cashmere trousers and patent-leather boots. I had taken off my morning coat and waistcoat before starting to walk, but the heat was awful, and my stiff white shirt and collar were wilting visibly....

I was fortunate to obtain the services of two mechanics, but I must confess that my face fell when the only car that was available proved to be a 1908 Ford....

As we drew up at the fatal corner, the others came out of the oast-house to see what was making the noise. When they beheld their conveyance, they were profoundly moved.

"Do you mean to say," said Daphne, "that this is the best you could do?"

I nodded.

"And you'll have to look sharp if you want to be there before the service is over. One cylinder's missing."

"So's the skid-pan," said Berry. "And where's the back seat? I beg your pardon--I'd got it the wrong way round. It is facing that way, isn't it? Yes. Oh, but what a line! What finish! You know, all it wants is a board with 'Ancient Lights' on the radiator, and somebody to close its doors one day in every year, and then, whenever the fowls lay in it, you can turn them out."

During this eulogy Jonah had been busy transferring the hat-boxes from the Rolls, and two minutes later the mechanics had been given their instructions, and we were ready to start.

I took the wheel, with Jonah sitting beside me. Daphne and Jill sat upon the back seat, and Berry, in a standing position, Nobby, the hat-boxes, and the buttonholes more than occupied the remaining space.

"Right behind?" I inquired.

"Anything but," said Berry. "Still, the door that will shut is closed, so carry on."

As tenderly as I could, I let In the clutch.

Instantly, with a frightful jerk, the car leapt forward.

As it did so, Berry lost his balance and, with a yell of apprehension, fell heavily into the welter of hat-and bandboxes, the cardboard of which gave right and left. Construing his involuntary action as the demonstration of a new game, Nobby immediately leaped barking upon him and began to lick his face. Daphne and Jill clung to one another, convulsed with merriment and emitting such tremulous wails of laughter as the function of breathing would permit, while, with tears coursing down his cheeks, Jonah was trying to bellow a coherent description of the catastrophe into my ear. And all the time the good old car ground raving along the road, heaving herself over the macadam in a sickening series of lurches, to every one of which we found ourselves reluctantly compelled to conform....

The bride was ten minutes late, and we beat her by a short head. As we were ushered, breathing heavily, into our places, there was a tell-tale stir at the porch, uprose the strains of a well-known hymn, the bridegroom glanced round and gave slightly at the knees, and the next moment his future wife had entered the aisle.

Furtively I felt my collar and wiped the perspiration from my face.... It was with something of a shock that, as the echoes of the "Amen" died away, I heard a familiar growl.

Hastily I turned in my seat to see Nobby three paces away. With back arched, one fore-paw raised, and his white teeth bared, he was regarding the trousers of an amateur sidesman, who had set a foot upon the broken string which trailed from his collar, with a menacing glare....

By the time I had bestowed the terrier under lock and key and returned to the church, Madrigal was signing her maiden name for the last time.

* * * * *

Five days later Berry received the following letter:--

_SIR,_

_Mr. Douglas Bladder of The Vines, Swete Rowley, has handed us your communication of the twenty-third inst._

_We are instructed to say that, while there is no doubt that its number is LF 8057, Mr. Bladder's car did not leave the garage upon the day of the accident in which you were concerned, for the reason that he and his chauffeur were engaged in overhauling the engine._

_It is therefore obvious that a mistake has been made, and that unless some other car was bearing his number, which you will agree is improbable, in the natural confusion of the moment the letters or figures or both upon the offender's number-plate were misread._

_Our client wishes us to add that, while the tone of your letter is not such as he is accustomed to, he appreciates that it was written while you were smarting under a sense of grave injury, and was indeed intended for somebody other than himself._

_Yours faithfully,_

_BERTHEIM AND GROWTH._

This being the quarter in which the wind was sitting, we made our dispositions accordingly.

So far as the number of the car was concerned, Daphne and Jonah never wavered, and we were certain about its colour and style. Moreover, we were all agreed that, while the back seat was empty, there were two people in front, and that the one who was not driving was wearing a chauffeur's dress. Finally, the village of Swete Rowley lay but some twenty-two miles from the scene of the accident. But that was all. It was, of course, unthinkable that the offending car could have sustained no damage, but it was quite possible that it would have nothing more serious to show than a dented hub-cap and a battered wing; and, while hub-caps can be changed in five minutes, it is no great matter to straighten a bent wing, and any traces of battery which still survive can be unanswerably attributed to one or other of quite a variety of innocent mishaps.

Inquiries were set afoot, and the moment we learned that Mr. Bladder in fact possessed a large green high-powered touring car, which he was in the habit of driving himself at a notorious pace, we threw down the glove. Solicitors were instructed, counsel's opinion was taken, an information was sworn before a Justice of the Peace, and within one week of the date of his solicitors' letter, Mr. Douglas Bladder had become the recipient of a writ for four hundred pounds damages and four separate summonses under the Motor Car Acts. We were out for blood.

At Marvel's Police Court the defendant appeared by his solicitor, who asked that the hearing of the summonses might be adjourned, pending the action in the High Court. This request was granted.

Everything possible was done to expedite matters, and by great good fortune the case of _Pleydell v. Bladder_ came into the Special Jury list during the last week of July.

* * * * *

There is about the High Court a signal air of gravity which to the layman is most compelling. The majesty of the Law is not apparent: of severity there is but a suggestion: something, indeed, of dignity, but less than a visitor will expect to find: something of silence. These are but equerries, subordinate. The Lady Paramount is Consequence.

Here seem to dwell those things that signify. Here lies that crucial junction which is at once the terminus of Cause, and of Effect the starting-point. Here are wise analysts, skilled to distil its meaning from the idle word, surgeons whose cunning probes will stir its motive from the deed, never so thoughtless. Whole walls of law books, ranged very orderly, calf-bound, make up a reverend pharmacopoeia, where you shall find precepts of iron, smelted from trespasses and old-time bickerings, whose long-dead authors, could they but come to life, would gape and stare and scratch their humble heads to find their modest names become so notable.

Pursed lips, brows wrinkled in thought, and restless anxious eyes indorse the serious aspect of the place. The very bustle of counsel, the scurry of clerks, the dash of messengers, proclaim matters of moment to be afoot. The whispered consultation, the pregnant nod, the nervous litigant buttonholing his lawyer, his advisers urging a certain course upon an indignant suitor, the furtive fellowship of witnesses, the solemn tipstaves, the ushers commanding silence, and the still small voice of Justice, charge all the dusty atmosphere with such importance as ties up the ready tongues of chatterers, ushers the jest still-born, and renders the very self of Folly wide-eyed and breathless.

Punctually at half-past ten his lordship entered the Court, returned the bows of counsel, and took his seat upon the Bench. With a sharp jingle the usher drew the green curtains across the door which led into the Judges' corridor, descended into the well of the Court, and looked complacently about him. Two or three cases were mentioned, the jury was sworn, and the Associate, after inquiring nonchalantly whether the King's Counsel were prepared, called on the case of _Pleydell against Bladder_, and sank back in his seat with a look of resignation.

Daphne, Jonah, and Jill were seated behind the junior Bar, while Berry and I sat one upon either side of our attorney at the solicitors' table. Upon the same bench, a little further along, was sitting Mr. Bladder, a large bland gentleman, with an air of good-nature which in the circumstances was rather too pronounced to be natural, and a taste in dress which would have better become a younger and a slenderer man.

Briefly our leader opened the case. There was little to be said, and he was on his feet for less than a quarter of an hour, but in that space of time he had presented to the jury so vivid a word-picture of the accident, and had dwelt so convincingly upon the facts which pointed to the defendant's guilt, that it was actually difficult to believe that the issue of the action was any longer in doubt, and I began to speculate upon the amount of damages we should be awarded. Such is the art of pleading.

A plan of the spot at which the collision had taken place was produced and officially accepted by the defence. Then Jonah was called. He gave his evidence admirably, and all counsel's endeavours to shake his confidence regarding the identity of the number-plate were of no avail. Daphne followed her cousin. She was a little nervous at first, and the Judge requested her to raise her voice. She responded gallantly, and the conviction with which she told her story in corroboration of Jonah produced a noticeable effect upon the Court. The result of her cross-examination was in our favour. I came next. Counsel for the defence made a great effort to pin me to a certain estimate of the speed at which the offending car was moving, but I scented danger and refused to be tied down.

It was considered unnecessary and not altogether expedient to expose our artless Jill to the mercies of our opponent's team, and, when I stepped down from the box, my brother-in-law's name was at once called by our junior counsel--

"Major Pleydell."

His examination-in-chief was very short. As was to be expected, he made an excellent witness. I began to wonder whether the defendant would be so foolish as to appeal....

Perhaps because the cross-examination of his predecessors had been so barren, the leader for the defence rose to deal with Berry with a menacing air. He was a "silk," whose obvious confidence in his ability was shared by few. Influence rather than merit had, I was told, won his admission to the Inner Bar, and the supercilious manner which he continually observed towards the Bench afforded a first-class exhibition of particularly bad form.

"This mysterious car," he began, "that we've all heard so much about--you say it was green?"

"I do," said Berry.

"What sort of green?"

"A bilious green."

There was a subdued titter, and one of the jurymen made no attempt to disguise his amusement. The frown upon counsel's face deepened.

"Was it a light or dark green, sir?"

"Light."

"Might it have been grey?"

"It might. It might have been a beautiful ruby pink. But it wasn't. It was just green."

A second titter, more pronounced than before, ran round the Court, and counsel flushed angrily.

"You have sworn that it was an open car?"

"So it was."

"And that there were two passengers?"

"So there were."

"And that the one who was not driving was wearing a chauffeur's uniform?"

"So he was."

"Listen. You saw its colour, you noticed its style, you swear to the number of passengers, and were actually able to observe how one of them was clad. How is it that you cannot speak to its number?"

"I will tell you. I was sitting----"

"On your oath, sir!"

"No, on the back seat." There was more than a ripple of laughter, and the Judge shot a quick glance at counsel before removing his _pince-nez_ and sitting back in his chair. "The heads and shoulders of Mrs. Pleydell and Captain Mansel, who were seated in front, obscured my view."

"Wasn't it because the car was travelling too fast?"

"Certainly not. They saw it."

"That is a matter of opinion."

"It is a matter of fact," was the retort.

"It is easy to be rude, Major Pleydell."

"I'll take your word for it."

Counsel appealed to the Judge.

"My lord, I must ask your lordship----"

"I see no reason to interfere," was the cold reply.

Counsel swallowed before proceeding. He was one of those who cannot let ill alone.

"The truth is," he announced, as if byway or conclusion, "that your recollection of the whole matter is extremely hazy, isn't it?"

For a moment Berry regarded him. Then he leaned back in the box and folded his arms.

"You know," he said, slowly shaking his head, "you know, you can't be well."

There was a roar of laughter.

"Never mind my health, sir," was the heated reply.

"Oh, but I do," said Berry. "If you were to burst or anything, I should be all upset, I should."

Again the Court, which was now packed, rocked with merriment. The tone in which counsel put his next question reeked of the insolence of anger.

"You consider your recollection clear?"

"As daylight. Let me explain----"

Counsel held up a deprecatory hand.

"Pray spare us. There was, I believe, a lot of dust."

"There was."

"Any amount of it?"

"Any amount. The road was thick with it."

"And the air?"

"Any amount of that, too. For a windless day, I never----"

"No, no, _no_! Wasn't the air thick with dust?"

"After the car had gone by--yes. It swallowed up the dog completely."

"The dog?"

Berry started and looked round uneasily.

"Perhaps," he stammered, "I shouldn't have...."

Counsel rose at the bait like a carp upon the tenth of April.

"This is most interesting. You say the dust swallowed the dog?"

"Yes, and the dog swallowed the dust. It was quite remarkable."

Amid the tempest of laughter counsel stood glowering.

"What dog are you referring to?"

"A Sealyham. When the car had gone by, he jumped out into the dust it had made and ran after it."

Hurriedly counsel conferred with his client.

"Why didn't you mention this dog before?"

"I didn't think it necessary."

"Did you tell your solicitor about it?"

"Yes. He didn't think it necessary, either."

"Really! You know, I thought we should get at something presently. Now, if the defendant didn't happen to own a Sealyham, this would be rather a valuable piece of evidence to show that it wasn't his car, wouldn't it?"

"I don't think so. You see----"

"Come, come, sir. Up to now nothing has been said of the offending car which could not be said with equal truth of the defendant's."

"I cordially agree."

"Both are green, both open, both, according to your story, bear the same number."

Berry nodded.

"Unquestionably," he said.

"Wait. Supposing the defendant swears that he has never had a Sealyham or any other kind of terrier?"

"I don't know that I should believe him, but I shouldn't argue it. Perhaps he doesn't like dogs."

"You'd accept his statement?"

"For what it was worth."

"Exactly. And if he had no terrier, it's quite obvious that the car out of which the Sealyham jumped was not his, but somebody else's?"

"Undoubtedly," said Berry. "As a matter of fact, it was ours."

The explosion of mirth which this statement provoked showed that his headlong progress towards the pit which he had digged had been gleefully followed by nearly everybody in Court, and counsel turned very pale.

"Have you ever discussed this case with any one?"

"I have."

"Who with?"

Berry took a deep breath.

"Well, I haven't seen my dentist lately, but I think everybody else I know has had it."

"Have you discussed it with the other witnesses?"

"Ad nauseam."

"Have you indeed? Perhaps that explains why you all tell the same tale?"

"That," said Berry coolly, "is an infamous suggestion."

Somebody gave an audible gasp, and there was a breathless silence. Sitting back in his padded chair, the Judge might have been a graven image.

"Sir?" thundered counsel interrogatively.

"And one beneath the dignity of even a stuff gown."

For a long moment the two men looked one another full in the eyes. Then counsel sat down somewhat unsteadily....

Berry was followed by an expert witness, called to substantiate our contention that two hundred pounds was a fair charge for the execution of such repairs to the Rolls as the accident had necessitated, and that another two hundred for the hire of a similar car for the month during which our own was in dock, was not excessive.

As he stepped down from the box--

"That, my lord," said our leader, "is the case for the plaintiff."

It was a quarter to one when Berry's antagonist rose again to his feet. Shortly he opened his case. Nothing, he said, was more difficult to prove than a negative. But for one thing, it might have gone hard with an innocent man. Everything looked very black, but, as luck would have it, most fortunately for himself, Mr. Bladder could prove incontestably that upon the twenty-second of May his car never left its garage, for the very good reason that its engine was down. "I shall call the defendant, and I shall call before you his chauffeur. Both will tell you in detail that the dismantling of the engine was commenced at ten in the morning, and that by half-past twelve--a few minutes before the actual time of the accident--the operation was completed." That the plaintiff had suffered an injury he did not attempt to deny. As a fellow-motorist, he had Mr. Bladder's whole-hearted sympathy. His annoyance was justified, but he could not expect Mr. Bladder to pay the penalty for somebody else's misdeeds. He had no doubt that the witnesses honestly believed that they had correctly memorized the letters and figures upon the number-plate. It was his duty to satisfy the Court that they were mistaken....

As he sat down, I realized that it was not going to be a walk-over.

Mr. Douglas Bladder made a masterly witness. I have rarely seen a more accomplished liar. His regret was infinite. With horrified hands he deplored what he referred to as "the shocking affair." He thundered unsought denunciation of "the dastardly conduct of some fugitive cur." As a motorist, he "so well understood our feelings." But--at length and with a wealth of detail he described how he and his chauffeur had spent the twenty-second of May. With the exception of an hour for lunch, they had worked on the car in the garage from ten o'clock until five. "It seemed a shame," concluded the witness, "to waste such a beautiful day, but I had earmarked the twenty-second for the job, so we went through with it."

A most dangerous thing in the hands of any witness, detail is seldom employed by the dishonest. It is not difficult safely to embroider a lie, but it apparently requires more thought, patience, and rehearsal than ninety-nine rogues out of a hundred are prepared to spend. It soon became unpleasantly clear that Mr. Bladder was the hundredth knave, and that in return for his labour he had a story to tell which was as excellent an imitation of the truth as you might reasonably expect to hear in six whole months of Sundays.

I began to feel extremely uneasy.

To make matters worse, he came through his cross-examination untouched. For every question put to him he had a good natural answer, and, when he stepped down from the box and the Court rose at five-and-twenty minutes past one, it was with something of a shock that I found myself wondering whether by any possible chance a mistake had been made, and we were pursuing an innocent man.

Berry had engaged a table at the _Savoy_, and he and the others left immediately, for there was little time.

I stayed for a moment to speak with our advisers.

"It's no use disguising the fact," said counsel in a low tone, "that we are up against it. I believe that fellow to be a prize liar. He's too infernally suave. But he knows his job inside out, and he's shaken our case badly. I can't speak for the Judge, but he's impressed the jury, and you can't get away from it. If his chauffeur comes up to the scratch, I believe they'll stop the case." I groaned, and he touched me on the shoulder. "You go and get your lunch," he said.

Heavily I made my way out of the building.

I was waiting for the taxi to which I had signalled, when--

"I observe," said a quiet voice, "that you don't remember me."

I swung round to see a tall dark girl with grey-blue eyes and a charming smile regarding me amusedly. But a moment before I had passed her upon the steps, and, as I did so, wondered what was her business with the Supreme Court. I took off my hat. Now that I saw her properly, her face seemed faintly familiar.

"Forgive me," I said. "I was preoccupied."

The smile deepened.

"I defy you to say where we have met before."

I continued to rack my brain feverishly, but it was no good.

"I can't concentrate," I said desperately. "I can tell you where we shall meet again all right."

"That's not the point. Try Madrigal's wedding."

"Of course. You were one of her bridesmaids."

"That's better. How's Nobby?"

The taxi was waiting, so I opened the door.

"I'll tell you about him at lunch. We'll find the others at the _Savoy_."

She hesitated.

"It's very good of you, but---"

"My sister," I said gravely, "would never forgive me."

The next moment we were rocketing past St Clement Danes.

"And now," said I, "what have you been doing in the Palace of Lies? What incorruptible judge have you corrupted with your smile? What jury have you bewitched with your small mouth? Or are you just a ward in Chancery?"

My lady smiled.

"What a pity," she said, "you can't remember my name! However will you introduce me?"

"I shall call you Miss Prision of Treason," said I, "and chance it. And what may I say you were doing in yonder Fool's Paradise?"

"You're very bitter and terribly inquisitive," said my companion. "Still, if you must know, I came down to be taken to hear a case. I've got a brother at the Bar, and the little wretch told me to meet him there, and he'd get me in to hear a motor-car case." I started. "Of course he never appeared, and I--my father was a K.C., so I'm not frightened--I just walked in and sat down in the first court I came to. It wasn't very interesting, but there were three judges. All in red, too. By the way, what's arson?"

"Setting fire to a house. All on purpose like. But tell me. D'you know anything about the case you were to have heard?"

"Only that the head of Paul's chambers is in it. That's how he knew it would be interesting."

"Is he in Tristram's chambers?"

"How on earth did you know?"

As she spoke the taxi drew up at the entrance to the _Savoy_.

"Oh, it's our precious case. That's all." I handed her out twittering. "Didn't you know we'd had a smash on the day of the wedding?"

"I did hear something. You don't mean to say...."

I paid the driver and hurried her into the hall.

"If you want to be there," I said, "to see us go down, you'll have to have a pretty quick lunch."

We joined the others to find them in a state of profound despondency. My companion was immediately recognized by my sister and Jill, but, to my relief, Berry and Jonah were not quite so quick in the uptake.

"Came to hear our case," I explained, "and got swep' into the Court of Criminal Appeal."

"Talk as you eat," said Berry. "Converse and masticate simultaneously. You know. Like you used to do before you knew me. What's Tristram got to say?"

I swallowed a piece of salmon before replying.

"Frankly pessimistic," I said.

Berry raised his eyes to heaven and ground his teeth. A hard look came upon Jonah's face.

"And we've got to sit there and watch that liar laugh in his sleeve," he said bitterly.

"And pay his costs as well as our own," said I. "Jolly, isn't it?"

Daphne touched me upon the arm, and I looked up She was very pale.

"D'you think it's hopeless?"

"I think, darling, we're up against it. And--and I'm terribly afraid."

"I see," she whispered. "Need Jill and I go back?"

"Jill needn't, but you must, dear. You're a witness."

As I spoke, I shot a glance at my cousin. The latter was unburdening her soul to Madge Lacey, the quondam bridesmaid, and, to judge from such fragments of the load as reached my ears, uttering sufficient slander regarding Mr. Douglas Bladder to maintain another dozen actions at law.

As some cold tongue was set before me--

"Every thing was going so well," said Daphne miserably. "I thought Berry was splendid."

"He was," said I, sousing my brandy with soda. "So were you, sweetheart. Nobody could have done more. And they don't disbelieve you and Jonah. They just think you've made a mistake."

She nodded dully.

"I don't blame them," she said slowly. "That man is so terribly clever. His whole attitude----"

A cry from Jill interrupted her.

"Daphne! Boy! She saw the car! On the way to the wedding. It nearly ran into her too. And Nobby running after it."

"_What?_"

Four mouths--three empty and one full of tongue--framed the interrogative simultaneously.

"Mother and Dad and I," announced Miss Lacey, bubbling, "were driving to the wedding. As we turned out of Long Lane into the Buckler Road, a great green car went by like a flash of lightning. Fortunately we were on the other side, or we'd have been smashed up. And, miles behind, there was a little white dog running the same way. I saw him, because I was back to the engine. Of course we were going much faster than him, and I soon lost sight of him."

Nobby!

Berry was the first to recover.

"Thank Heaven I dragged him in." He glanced at his watch. "Counsel must know this at once. Come on. Never mind the bill: we can settle later."

No one who was that afternoon lunching at the _Savoy_ will ever forget our eruption from the restaurant. The girls actually ran. Berry, Jonah, and I, pursued by frantic waiters, thrust in their wake, taking the carpeted steps three at a time, and generally evincing such symptoms of nervous excitement as are seldom seen save upon the screen of a cinematograph. Indeed, our departure would have done credit to any stage manager, and I firmly believe that the majority of the guests attributed our behaviour to the ingenious brain of a manufacturer of films.

Five minutes later we panted up the steep steps into the corridor which led to our Court. As luck would have it, our solicitor was in the act of pushing open the swing-doors.

I caught him by the arm and breathed into his ear.

"Important new evidence. Vital. We've got the witness here."

He was a man of few words.

"In there," he said shortly, pointing to a consulting room. "I'll get counsel."

We trooped into the apartment and shut the door.

In silence we waited for what seemed a century. Then there were hasty steps, the door opened, and the K.C., followed by his junior and the attorney, entered the room.

Briefly Berry related the story which Miss Lacey could tell.

"This is the lady," he concluded. "I know our case is closed, but surely she can be called?"

We hung upon the reply.

"Can she speak to the number?"

"No. But in corroboration----"

"My dear Major Pleydell," said Tristram, "you need no corroboration. The jury believe you. They believe you were smashed up. They believe it was done by a green touring car. The devil of it is, they believe the defendant too. And so they come to the very natural conclusion that, between the excitement of the moment and the pace at which the car was travelling, Mrs. Pleydell and Captain Mansel have made a mistake -perhaps only of one figure--in the number they saw. And, unless we can discredit that fellow's story, call evidence to show he _was_ out on that day, or something, I'm very much afraid we shall go down. His counsel Is certain to ask for the benefit of the doubt, and they'll give it him."

I never remember feeling so disappointed.

I think we all felt the weight of his words, but our collapse was pitiful. Lured by a treacherous hope into the belief that we were saved, we were fallen into a deeper Slough of Despond than before. Jill was hard put to it to restrain her tears....

Listlessly we followed our advisers into Court, and a moment later the Judge took his seat.

One or two applications, which did not concern our case, were made. Then leading counsel for the defence rose to his feet and called his next witness--

"Walter Dale."

At the sound of the name I started violently. Then, open-mouthed and trembling with excitement, I twisted myself round to get a glimpse of the witness as he approached the box. Could it be possible that Fate with fiendish irony had selected the ex-trooper whom we had befriended to administer to our case the _coup de grâce_? It must be a man of another name. But Dale _was_ a chauffeur....

There was a stir at the back of the crowded Court. Somebody was pushing his way forward. Somebody....

It _was_ Dale.

The short, stockily-built figure, that I had not seen for more than three years, stepped out of the ruck of onlookers and took its place in the witness-box.

"Take the Book in your right hand...."

It was the Associate's voice. As in a dream I heard the oath administered.

"The truth.... The whole truth.... And nothing but the truth."

Dale's lips moved and he kissed the Testament.

He was very pale. As he laid the Book down, our eyes met, and he looked me full in the face. My heart began to thump violently.

"Your name is Walter Dale?" said counsel.

"Yes"--in a low voice.

"Speak up, please, so that his lordship and the Jury may hear. You are a chauffeur in the employ of the defendant?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the twenty-second of May?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I want you to tell the Court in your own words exactly what you did that day. First of all, on that day did your master's car leave the garage?"

"Yes, it did."

The Court gasped. Jurymen, counsel, officials, reporters--every one sat up as if they had been shot. Even the Judge started, and the defendant half rose from his seat and, when his solicitor laid a hand on his arm, sank back with bayed ferocity in his eyes and a face the colour of cigar-ash.

"I don't think you quite understood my question," purred counsel. "On the twenty-second of May, the day of the accident to the plaintiff's car, did Mr. Bladder's car, of which you were in charge, leave the garage?"

"Yes," said Dale sturdily, "it did."

"You understand what you're saying?" said the Judge.

"Yes, sir. An' if I was to say anythin' else, I'd not only be tellin' a lie, but I'd be doin' in the bes' friend as ever I 'ad." He pointed to me. "The Captain there. Little I knowed, when I took 'is money"--scornfully he nodded at the defendant--"'oo it was we run into that day. Twenty-five pound it was, an' another twenty-five if we won the case."

"My lord," said counsel, protesting, "I----"

The Judge held up his hand and turned to the witness.

"Remember you are on your oath."

"I do that, sir. It's gospel truth what I'm sayin'. The accident 'appened exactly as you've 'eard them tell. 'E was drivin', an' me by 'is side. Tore by 'em, we did, an' 'it 'em an' left 'em. Sends me up to Town for a new 'ub-cap the nex' day. Lettin' 'er out, 'e was, to see 'ow she'd run after the over'aul. That was the day before."

He paused for lack of breath, and the Judge turned his head slowly and peered at counsel over the rim of his glasses.

I was looking at the defendant.

If any corroboration of Dale's story were needed, it was written upon his master's face for all to see. Guilt, fear, and beastly rage were horribly depicted. The close-set eyes shifted frantically from side to side. The mouth worked uncontrollably....

As I looked, the fellow rose to his feet, swayed, put a hand to his throat, and stepped uncertainly towards the doors. The crowd parted, and he passed through....

A thick voice shattered the silence.

"In the circumstances your lordship will appreciate that I can carry my case no further."

With a swish of silk, counsel resumed his seat.

As was to be expected, the jury delivered its verdict without leaving the box. As the applause subsided--

"I ask for judgment with costs," said Tristram.

The Judge nodded.

"And I direct," he said, "that the documents of the case be impounded and be sent to the Director of Public Prosecutions."

Amid the buzz of excitement which succeeded his words, I felt a touch on my shoulder. Our leader was smiling.

"Cast your bread upon the waters," he said. "For you shall find it after many days."