A Damsel in Distress P. G. Wodehouse (sad books to read txt) 📖

that ticket, you should have stated them clearly at the time. And what do you mean by saying I ain’t any better off than you are?”

“I ’ave my reasons.”

“You think you ’ave, which is a very different thing. I suppose you imagine that you’ve put a stopper on a certain little affair by surreptitiously destroying letters entrusted to you.”

“I never!” exclaimed Albert with a convulsive start that nearly sent eleven plates dashing to destruction.

“ ’Ow many times have I got to tell you to be careful of them plates?” said Keggs sternly. “Who do you think you are⁠—a juggler on the ’Alls, ’urling them about like that? Yes, I know all about that letter. You thought you was very clever, I’ve no doubt. But let me tell you, young blighted Albert, that only the other evening ’er ladyship and Mr. Bevan ’ad a long and extended interview in spite of all your hefforts. I saw through your little game, and I proceeded and went and arranged the meeting.”

In spite of himself Albert was awed. He was oppressed by the sense of struggling with a superior intellect.

“Yes, you did!” he managed to say with the proper note of incredulity, but in his heart he was not incredulous. Dimly, Albert had begun to perceive that years must elapse before he could become capable of matching himself in battles of wits with this master-strategist.

“Yes, I certainly did!” said Keggs. “I don’t know what ’appened at the interview⁠—not being present in person. But I’ve no doubt that everything proceeded satisfactorily.”

“And a fat lot of good that’s going to do you, when ’e ain’t allowed to come inside the ’ouse!”

A bland smile irradiated the butler’s moon-like face.

“If by ’e you’re alloodin’ to Mr. Bevan, young blighted Albert, let me tell you that it won’t be long before ’e becomes a regular duly invited guest at the castle!”

“A lot of chance!”

“Would you care to ’ave another five shillings even money on it?”

Albert recoiled. He had had enough of speculation where the butler was concerned. Where that schemer was allowed to get within reach of it, hard cash melted away.

“What are you going to do?”

“Never you mind what I’m going to do. I ’ave my methods. All I ’ave to say to you is that tomorrow or the day after Mr. Bevan will be seated in our dining-’all with ’is feet under our table, replying according to his personal taste and preference, when I ask ’im if ’e’ll ’ave ’ock or sherry. Brush all them crumbs carefully off the tablecloth, young blighted Albert⁠—don’t shuffle your feet⁠—breathe softly through your nose⁠—and close the door be’ind you when you’ve finished!”

“Oh, go and eat cake!” said Albert bitterly. But he said it to his immortal soul, not aloud. The lad’s spirit was broken.

Keggs, the processes of digestion completed, presented himself before Lord Belpher in the billiard-room. Percy was alone. The house-party, so numerous on the night of the ball and on his birthday, had melted down now to reasonable proportions. The second and third cousins had retired, flushed and gratified, to obscure dens from which they had emerged, and the castle housed only the more prominent members of the family, always harder to dislodge than the small fry. The Bishop still remained, and the Colonel. Besides these, there were perhaps half a dozen more of the closer relations: to Lord Belpher’s way of thinking, half a dozen too many. He was not fond of his family.

“Might I have a word with your lordship?”

“What is it, Keggs?”

Keggs was a self-possessed man, but he found it a little hard to begin. Then he remembered that once in the misty past he had seen Lord Belpher spanked for stealing jam, he himself having acted on that occasion as prosecuting attorney; and the memory nerved him.

“I earnestly ’ope that your lordship will not think that I am taking a liberty. I ’ave been in his lordship your father’s service many years now, and the family honour is, if I may be pardoned for saying so, extremely near my ’eart. I ’ave known your lordship since you were a mere boy, and⁠ ⁠…”

Lord Belpher had listened with growing impatience to this preamble. His temper was seldom at its best these days, and the rolling periods annoyed him.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “What is it?”

Keggs was himself now. In his opening remarks he had simply been, as it were, winding up. He was now prepared to begin.

“Your lordship will recall inquiring of me on the night of the ball as to the bona fides of one of the temporary waiters? The one that stated that ’e was the cousin of young bli⁠—of the boy Albert, the page? I have been making inquiries, your lordship, and I regret to say I find that the man was a impostor. He informed me that ’e was Albert’s cousin, but Albert now informs me that ’e ’as no cousin in America. I am extremely sorry this should have occurred, your lordship, and I ’ope you will attribute it to the bustle and haste inseparable from duties as mine on such a occasion.”

“I know the fellow was an impostor. He was probably after the spoons!”

Keggs coughed.

“If I might be allowed to take a further liberty, your lordship, might I suggest that I am aware of the man’s identity and of his motive for visiting the castle.”

He waited a little apprehensively. This was the crucial point in the interview. If Lord Belpher did not now freeze him with a glance and order him from the room, the danger would be past, and he could speak freely. His light blue eyes were expressionless as they met Percy’s, but inwardly he was feeling much the same sensation as he was wont to experience when the family was in town and he had managed to slip off to Kempton Park or some other racecourse and put some of his savings on a horse. As he felt when the racing steeds thundered down the straight, so did he