Right Ho, Jeeves Page 5

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  I gave him one of my looks.

  "Jeeves," I said, "I had scarcely expected this of you. You are awarethat I was up to an advanced hour last night. You know that I have barelyhad my tea. You cannot be ignorant of the effect of that hearty voice ofAunt Dahlia's on a man with a headache. And yet you come bringing meFink-Nottles. Is this a time for Fink or any other kind of Nottle?"

  "But did you not give me to understand, sir, that you wished to see Mr.Fink-Nottle to advise him on his affairs?"

  This, I admit, opened up a new line of thought. In the stress of myemotions, I had clean forgotten about having taken Gussie's interests inhand. It altered things. One can't give the raspberry to a client. Imean, you didn't find Sherlock Holmes refusing to see clients justbecause he had been out late the night before at Doctor Watson's birthdayparty. I could have wished that the man had selected some more suitablehour for approaching me, but as he appeared to be a sort of human lark,leaving his watery nest at daybreak, I supposed I had better give him anaudience.

  "True," I said. "All right. Bung him in."

  "Very good, sir."

  "But before doing so, bring me one of those pick-me-ups of yours."

  "Very good, sir."

  And presently he returned with the vital essence.

  I have had occasion, I fancy, to speak before now of these pick-me-ups ofJeeves's and their effect on a fellow who is hanging to life by a threadon the morning after. What they consist of, I couldn't tell you. He sayssome kind of sauce, the yolk of a raw egg and a dash of red pepper, butnothing will convince me that the thing doesn't go much deeper than that.Be that as it may, however, the results of swallowing one are amazing.

  For perhaps the split part of a second nothing happens. It is as thoughall Nature waited breathless. Then, suddenly, it is as if the Last Trumphad sounded and Judgment Day set in with unusual severity.

  Bonfires burst out in all in parts of the frame. The abdomen becomes heavilycharged with molten lava. A great wind seems to blow through the world,and the subject is aware of something resembling a steam hammer strikingthe back of the head. During this phase, the ears ring loudly, theeyeballs rotate and there is a tingling about the brow.

  And then, just as you are feeling that you ought to ring up your lawyerand see that your affairs are in order before it is too late, the wholesituation seems to clarify. The wind drops. The ears cease to ring. Birdstwitter. Brass bands start playing. The sun comes up over the horizonwith a jerk.

  And a moment later all you are conscious of is a great peace.

  As I drained the glass now, new life seemed to burgeon within me. Iremember Jeeves, who, however much he may go off the rails at times inthe matter of dress clothes and in his advice to those in love, hasalways had a neat turn of phrase, once speaking of someone rising onstepping-stones of his dead self to higher things. It was that way withme now. I felt that the Bertram Wooster who lay propped up against thepillows had become a better, stronger, finer Bertram.

  "Thank you, Jeeves," I said.

  "Not at all, sir."

  "That touched the exact spot. I am now able to cope with life'sproblems."

  "I am gratified to hear it, sir."

  "What madness not to have had one of those before tackling Aunt Dahlia!However, too late to worry about that now. Tell me of Gussie. How did hemake out at the fancy-dress ball?"

  "He did not arrive at the fancy-dress ball, sir."

  I looked at him a bit austerely.

  "Jeeves," I said, "I admit that after that pick-me-up of yours I feelbetter, but don't try me too high. Don't stand by my sick bed talkingabsolute rot. We shot Gussie into a cab and he started forth, headed forwherever this fancy-dress ball was. He must have arrived."

  "No, sir. As I gather from Mr. Fink-Nottle, he entered the cab convincedin his mind that the entertainment to which he had been invited was to beheld at No. 17, Suffolk Square, whereas the actual rendezvous was No. 71,Norfolk Terrace. These aberrations of memory are not uncommon with thosewho, like Mr. Fink-Nottle, belong essentially to what one might call thedreamer-type."

  "One might also call it the fatheaded type."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well?"

  "On reaching No. 17, Suffolk Square, Mr. Fink-Nottle endeavoured toproduce money to pay the fare."

  "What stopped him?"

  "The fact that he had no money, sir. He discovered that he had left it,together with his ticket of invitation, on the mantelpiece of hisbedchamber in the house of his uncle, where he was residing. Bidding thecabman to wait, accordingly, he rang the door-bell, and when the butlerappeared, requested him to pay the cab, adding that it was all right, ashe was one of the guests invited to the dance. The butler then disclaimedall knowledge of a dance on the premises."

  "And declined to unbelt?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Upon which----"

  "Mr. Fink-Nottle directed the cabman to drive him back to his uncle'sresidence."

  "Well, why wasn't that the happy ending? All he had to do was go in,collect cash and ticket, and there he would have been, on velvet."

  "I should have mentioned, sir, that Mr. Fink-Nottle had also left hislatchkey on the mantelpiece of his bedchamber."

  "He could have rung the bell."

  "He did ring the bell, sir, for some fifteen minutes. At the expirationof that period he recalled that he had given permission to thecaretaker--the house was officially closed and all the staff onholiday--to visit his sailor son at Portsmouth."

  "Golly, Jeeves!"

  "Yes, sir."

  "These dreamer types do live, don't they?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What happened then?"

  "Mr. Fink-Nottle appears to have realized at this point that his positionas regards the cabman had become equivocal. The figures on the clock hadalready reached a substantial sum, and he was not in a position to meethis obligations."

  "He could have explained."

  "You cannot explain to cabmen, sir. On endeavouring to do so, he foundthe fellow sceptical of his bona fides."

  "I should have legged it."

  "That is the policy which appears to have commended itself to Mr.Fink-Nottle. He darted rapidly away, and the cabman, endeavouring to detainhim, snatched at his overcoat. Mr. Fink-Nottle contrived to extricatehimself from the coat, and it would seem that his appearance in themasquerade costume beneath it came as something of a shock to the cabman.Mr. Fink-Nottle informs me that he heard a species of whistling gasp,and, looking round, observed the man crouching against the railings withhis hands over his face. Mr. Fink-Nottle thinks he was praying. No doubtan uneducated, superstitious fellow, sir. Possibly a drinker."

  "Well, if he hadn't been one before, I'll bet he started being oneshortly afterwards. I expect he could scarcely wait for the pubs toopen."

  "Very possibly, in the circumstances he might have found a restorativeagreeable, sir."

  "And so, in the circumstances, might Gussie too, I should think. What onearth did he do after that? London late at night--or even in the daytime,for that matter--is no place for a man in scarlet tights."

  "No, sir."

  "He invites comment."

  "Yes, sir."

  "I can see the poor old bird ducking down side-streets, skulking inalley-ways, diving into dust-bins."

  "I gathered from Mr. Fink-Nottle's remarks, sir, that something very muchon those lines was what occurred. Eventually, after a trying night, hefound his way to Mr. Sipperley's residence, where he was able to securelodging and a change of costume in the morning."

  I nestled against the pillows, the brow a bit drawn. It is all very wellto try to do old school friends a spot of good, but I could not but feelthat in espousing the cause of a lunkhead capable of mucking things up asGussie had done, I had taken on a contract almost too big for humanconsumption. It seemed to me that what Gussie needed was not so much theadvice of a seasoned man of the world as a padded cell in Colney Hatchand a couple of good keepers to see that he did not set the
place onfire.

  Indeed, for an instant I had half a mind to withdraw from the case andhand it back to Jeeves. But the pride of the Woosters restrained me. Whenwe Woosters put our hands to the plough, we do not readily sheathe thesword. Besides, after that business of the mess-jacket, anythingresembling weakness would have been fatal.

  "I suppose you realize, Jeeves," I said, for though one dislikes to rubit in, these things have to be pointed out, "that all this was yourfault?"

  "Sir?"

  "It's no good saying 'Sir?' You know it was. If you had not insisted onhis going to that dance--a mad project, as I spotted from the first--thiswould not have happened."

  "Yes, sir, but I confess I did not anticipate----"

  "Always anticipate everything, Jeeves," I said, a little sternly. "It isthe only way. Even if you had allowed him to wear a Pierrot costume,things would not have panned out as they did. A Pierrot costume haspockets. However," I went on more kindly, "we need not go into that now.If all this has shown you what comes of going about the place in scarlettights, that is something gained. Gussie waits without, you say?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then shoot him in, and I will see what I can do for him."