Дживс, вы – гений! / Thank you, Jeeves!. Пелам Гренвилл Вудхаус

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СКАЧАТЬ type="note">[40], a lily pond with a statue of a nude child, and to the right a hedge. Across this hedge, Brinkley[41], my new servant, was chatting with our neighbour, Police Sergeant Voules.

      There was another hedge straight ahead, with the garden gate in it, and over this the placid waters of the harbour. And of all the objects I noted the yacht. It was white in colour, and in size resembling a young liner.

      And at this moment the summer stillness was broken by the horn, and I ran to the gate with all possible speed for fear some fiend in human shape was scratching my paint. I found a small boy in the front seat, and was about to give him a good lesson when I recognized Chuffy’s cousin, Seabury.

      “Hallo,” he said.

      “Hallo,” I replied.

      He was a smallish, freckled kid with aeroplane ears. In my Rogues Gallery of repulsive small boys I suppose he would come about third—not quite so bad as my Aunt Agatha’s son, Young Thos., or Mr Blumenfeld’s Junior.

      After staring at me for a moment, he spoke.

      “You’re to come to lunch.”

      “Is Chuffy back, then?”

      “Yes.”

      Well, of course, if Chuffy had returned, I was at his disposal. I shouted over the hedge to Brinkley that I would be absent from the midday meal and climbed into the car and we rolled off.

      “When did he get back?”

      “Last night.”

      “Shall we be lunching alone?”

      “No.”

      “Who’s going to be there?”

      “Mother and me and some people.”

      “A party? I’d better go back and put on another suit.”

      “No.”

      “You think this one looks all right?”

      “No, I don’t. I think it looks rotten. But there isn’t time.”

      Then he gave me some local gossip.

      “Mother and I are living at the Hall again.”

      “What!”

      “Yes. There’s a smell at the Dower House.”

      “Even though you’ve left it?”

      He was not amused.

      “You needn’t try to be funny. If you really want to know, I think it’s my mice.”

      “Your what?”

      “I’ve started breeding mice and puppies. And, of course, they stink a bit. Can you give me five shillings?”

      “Five shillings?”

      “Five shillings.”

      “What do you mean, five shillings?”

      “I mean five shillings.”

      “But why? We were discussing mice, and you said about five shillings.”

      “I want five shillings.”

      “Maybe. But why should I give it to you?”

      “For protection.”

      “What!”

      “Protection.”

      “What from?”

      “Just protection.”

      “You don’t get any five shillings out of me.”

      “Oh, all right.”

      He sat silent.

      “Something happens to guys that don’t give me their protection money,” he said dreamily.

      And on this note of mystery the conversation concluded, for we were moving up the drive of the Hall and on the steps I perceived Chuffy standing. I went out.

      “Hallo, Bertie,” said Chuffy.

      “Welcome to Chuffnell Hall,” I replied. I looked round. The kid had vanished. “I say, Chuffy,” I said, “young blighted Seabury. What about him?”

      “What about him?”

      “Well, if you ask me, he’s just been trying to get five shillings out of me and babbling about protection.”

      Chuffy laughed heartily.

      “Oh, that. That’s his latest idea.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He’s been seeing gangster films.”

      “He thinks he is a racketeer?”

      “Yes. Rather amusing. He goes round collecting protection money from everybody. Makes a good profit. I’d pay up[42] if I were you. As for me, I gave him some coins.”

      I was shocked. Chuffy was exhibiting this attitude of tolerance! Strange. Usually, when you meet him, he is talking about his poor financial situation. I sensed a mystery.

      “How is your Aunt Myrtle?”

      “She’s fine.”

      “Living at the Hall now, I hear.”

      “Yes.”

      It was enough.

      One of the things, I must mention, which have always made poor old Chuffy’s life so hard is his aunt’s attitude towards him. Seabury, you see, was not the son of Chuffy’s late uncle, the fourth Baron: she got him in the course of a former marriage. Consequently, when the fourth Baron died, it was Chuffy who inherited the title and estates. And Chuffy’s aunt would clasp Seabury in her arms and look reproachfully at Chuffy as if he had robbed her and her child. She looked like a woman who had been the victim of a swindler.

      So Lady Chuffnell was not one of Chuffy’s best friends. Their relations had always been definitely strained, and when you mention her name, a look of pain comes into Chuffy’s face and he winces a little.

      Now he was actually smiling. Even that remark of mine about her living at the Hall had not jarred him. Obviously, there were mysteries here.

      “Chuffy,” I said, “what does this mean?”

      “What does what mean?”

      “This cheeriness. You can’t deceive me. Not old Wooster. What is all the happiness about?”

      He hesitated.

      “Can you keep a secret?”

      “No.”

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