Love Among the Chickens Read online

  XV

  THE ARRIVAL OF NEMESIS

  Some people do not believe in presentiments. They attribute thatcurious feeling that something unpleasant is going to happen to suchmundane causes as liver or a chill or the weather. For my own part, Ithink there is more in the matter than the casual observer mightimagine.

  I awoke three days after my meeting with the professor at theclubhouse filled with a dull foreboding. Somehow I seemed to know thatthat day was going to turn out badly for me. It may have been liver ora chill, but it was certainly not the weather. The morning wasperfect, the most glorious of a glorious summer. There was a haze overthe valley and out to sea which suggested a warm noon, when the sunshould have begun the serious duties of the day. The birds weresinging in the trees and breakfasting on the lawn, while Edwin, seatedon one of the flower beds, watched them with the eye of a connoisseur.Occasionally, when a sparrow hopped in his direction, he would make asudden spring, and the bird would fly away to the other side of thelawn. I had never seen Edwin catch a sparrow. I believe they looked onhim as a bit of a crank, and humored him by coming within springingdistance, just to keep him amused. Dashing young cock sparrows wouldshow off before their particular hen sparrows, and earn a cheapreputation for dare-deviltry by going within so many yards of Edwin'slair and then darting away.

  Bob was in his favorite place on the gravel. I took him with me downto the Cob to watch me bathe.

  "What's the matter with me to-day, Robert, old man?" I asked him as Idried myself.

  He blinked lazily, but contributed no suggestion.

  "It's no good looking bored," I went on, "because I'm going to talkabout myself, however much it bores you. Here am I, as fit as a prizefighter; living in the open air for I don't know how long; eatinggood, plain food; bathing every morning--sea bathing, mind you; andyet what's the result? I feel beastly."

  Bob yawned and gave a little whine.

  "Yes," I said, "I know I'm in love. But that can't be it, because Iwas in love just as much a week ago, and I felt all right then. Butisn't she an angel, Bob? Eh? Isn't she? But how about Tom Chase? Don'tyou think he's a dangerous man? He calls her by her Christian name,you know, and behaves generally as if she belonged to him. And thenhe sees her every day, while I have to trust to meeting her at oddtimes, and then I generally feel like such a fool I can't think ofanything to talk about except golf and the weather. He probably singsduets with her after dinner. And you know what comes of duets afterdinner."

  Here Bob, who had been trying for some time to find a decent excusefor getting away, pretended to see something of importance at theother end of the Cob, and trotted off to investigate it, leaving me tofinish dressing by myself.

  "Of course," I said to myself, "it may be merely hunger. I may be allright after breakfast, but at present I seem to be working up for areally fine fit of the blues."

  I whistled for Bob and started for home. On the beach I saw theprofessor some little distance away and waved my towel in a friendlymanner. He made no reply.

  Of course it was possible that he had not seen me, but for some reasonhis attitude struck me as ominous. As far as I could see, he waslooking straight at me, and he was not a shortsighted man. I couldthink of no reason why he should cut me. We had met on the links onthe previous morning, and he had been friendliness itself. He hadcalled me "me dear boy," supplied me with ginger beer at theclubhouse, and generally behaved as if he had been David and IJonathan. Yet in certain moods we are inclined to make mountains outof mole-hills, and I went on my way, puzzled and uneasy, with adistinct impression that I had received the cut direct.

  I felt hurt. What had I done that Providence should make things sounpleasant for me? It would be a little hard, as Ukridge would havesaid, if, after all my trouble, the professor had discovered somefresh crow to pluck with me. Perhaps Ukridge had been irritating himagain. I wished he would not identify me so completely with Ukridge. Icould not be expected to control the man. Then I reflected that theycould hardly have met in the few hours between my parting from theprofessor at the clubhouse and my meeting with him on the beach.Ukridge rarely left the farm. When he was not working among the fowls,he was lying on his back in the paddock, resting his massive mind.

  I came to the conclusion that, after all, the professor had not seenme.

  "I'm an idiot, Bob," I said, as we turned in at the farm gate, "and Ilet my imagination run away with me."

  Bob wagged his tail in approval of the sentiment.

  Breakfast was ready when I got in. There was a cold chicken on thesideboard, deviled chicken on the table, and a trio of boiled eggs,and a dish of scrambled eggs. I helped myself to the latter and satdown.

  Ukridge was sorting the letters.

  "Morning, Garny," he said. "One for you, Millie."

  "It's from Aunt Elizabeth," said Mrs. Ukridge, looking at theenvelope.

  "Wish she'd inclose a check. She could spare it."

  "I think she would, dear, if she knew how much it was needed. But Idon't like to ask her. She's so curious and says such horrid things."

  "She does," said Ukridge gloomily. He probably spoke from experience."Two for you, Sebastian. All the rest for me. Eighteen of them, andall bills."

  He spread them out on the table like a pack of cards, and drew one ata venture.

  "Whiteley's," he said. "Getting jumpy. Are in receipt of my favor ofthe 7th inst, and are at a loss to understand--all sorts of things.Would like something on account."

  "Grasping of them," I said.

  "They seem to think I'm doing it for fun. How can I let them havetheir money when there isn't any?"

  "Sounds difficult."

  "Here's one from Dorchester--Smith, the man I got the gramophone from.Wants to know when I'm going to settle up for sixteen records."

  "Sordid man!"

  I wanted to get on with my own correspondence, but Ukridge was one ofthose men who compel one's attention when they are talking.

  "The chicken men, the dealer people, you know, want me to pay up forthe first lot of hens. Considering that they all died of roop, andthat I was going to send them back, anyhow, after I'd got them tohatch out a few chickens, I call that cool. I can't afford to payheavy sums for birds which die off quicker than I can get them in. Itisn't business."

  It was not my business, at any rate, so I switched off my attentionfrom Ukridge's troubles and was opening the first of my two letterswhen an exclamation from Mrs. Ukridge made me look up.

  She had dropped the letter she had been reading and was staringindignantly in front of her. There were two little red spots on hercheeks.

  "I shall never speak to Aunt Elizabeth again," she said.

  "What's the matter, old chap?" inquired Ukridge affectionately,glancing up from his pile of bills. "Aunt Elizabeth been getting onyour nerves again? What's she been saying this time?"

  Mrs. Ukridge left the room with a sob.

  Ukridge sprang at the letter.

  "If that demon doesn't stop writing letters and upsetting Millie Ishall lynch her," he said. I had never seen him so genuinely angry. Heturned over the pages till he came to the passage which had caused thetrouble. "Listen to this, Garnet. 'I'm sorry, but not surprised, tohear that the chicken farm is not proving a great success. I think youknow my opinion of your husband. He is perfectly helpless in anymatter requiring the exercise of a little common sense and businesscapability.' I like that! 'Pon my soul, I like that! You've known melonger than she has, Garny, and you know that it's just in mattersrequiring common sense that I come out strong. What?"

  "Of course, old man," I replied dutifully. "The woman must be a fool."

  "That's what she calls me two lines farther on. No wonder Millie wasupset. Why can't these cats leave people alone?"

  "O woman, woman!" I threw in helpfully.

  "Always interfering--"

  "Beastly!"

  "--and backbiting--"

  "Awful!"

  "I shan't stand it!"

  "I shouldn't."

&nb
sp; "Look here! On the next page she calls me a gaby!"

  "It's time you took a strong hand."

  "And in the very next sentence refers to me as a perfect guffin.What's a guffin, Garny, old boy?"

  "It sounds indecent."

  "I believe it's actionable."

  "I shouldn't wonder."

  Ukridge rushed to the door.

  "Millie!" he shouted.

  No answer.

  He slammed the door, and I heard him dashing upstairs.

  I turned with a sense of relief to my letters. One was from Lickford.It bore a Cornish postmark. I glanced through it, and laid it asidefor a more exhaustive perusal later on.

  The other was in a strange handwriting. I looked at the signature.Patrick Derrick. This was queer. What had the professor to say to me?

  The next moment my heart seemed to spring to my throat.

  "Sir," the letter began.

  A pleasant, cheery beginning!

  Then it got off the mark, so to speak, like lightning. There was nosparring for an opening, no dignified parade of set phrases leading upto the main point. It was the letter of a man who was almost toofurious to write. It gave me the impression that, if he had notwritten it, he would have been obliged to have taken some very violentform of exercise by way of relief to his soul.

  "You will be good enough," he wrote, "to look on our acquaintance asclosed. I have no wish to associate with persons of your stamp. If weshould happen to meet, you will be good enough to treat me as a totalstranger, as I shall treat you. And, if I may be allowed to give you aword of advice, I should recommend you in future, when you wish toexercise your humor, to do so in some less practical manner than bybribing boatmen to upset your" (_friends_ crossed out thickly, and_acquaintances_ substituted). "If you require further enlightenment inthis matter, the inclosed letter may be of service to you."

  With which he remained mine faithfully, Patrick Derrick.

  The inclosed letter was from one Jane Muspratt. It was bright andinteresting.

  DEAR SIR: My Harry, Mr. Hawk, sas to me how it was him upseting the boat and you, not because he is not steddy in a boat which he is no man more so in Lyme Regis but because one of the gentmen what keeps chikkens up the hill, the little one, Mr. Garnick his name is, says to him Hawk, I'll give you a sovrin to upset Mr. Derrick in your boat, and my Harry being esily led was took in and did but he's sory now and wishes he hadn't, and he sas he'll niver do a prackticle joke again for anyone even for a bank note.

  Yours obedly

  JANE MUSPRATT.

  O woman, woman!

  At the bottom of everything! History is full of cruel tragedies causedby the lethal sex.

  Who lost Mark Antony the world? A woman. Who let Samson in soatrociously? Woman again. Why did Bill Bailey leave home? Once more,because of a woman. And here was I, Jerry Garnet, harmless,well-meaning writer of minor novels, going through the same old mill.

  I cursed Jane Muspratt. What chance had I with Phyllis now? Could Ihope to win over the professor again? I cursed Jane Muspratt for thesecond time.

  My thoughts wandered to Mr. Harry Hawk. The villain! The scoundrel!What business had he to betray me? Well, I could settle with him. Theman who lays a hand upon a woman, save in the way of kindness, isjustly disliked by society; so the woman Muspratt, culpable as shewas, was safe from me. But what of the man Hawk? There no suchconsiderations swayed me. I would interview the man Hawk. I would givehim the most hectic ten minutes of his career. I would say things tohim the recollection of which would make him start up shrieking in hisbed in the small hours of the night. I would arise, and be a man andslay him--take him grossly, full of bread, with all his crimes,broad-blown, as flush as May; at gaming, swearing, or about some actthat had no relish of salvation in it.

  The demon!

  My life--ruined. My future--gray and blank. My heart--shattered. Andwhy? Because of the scoundrel--Hawk.

  Phyllis would meet me in the village, on the Cob, on the links, andpass by as if I were the invisible man. And why? Because of thereptile--Hawk. The worm--Hawk. The varlet--Hawk.

  I crammed my hat on and hurried out of the house toward the village.