Jonah and Co. Yates Dornford

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      It was almost eight o'clock when Ping discharged his passengers upon the front steps.

      In silence and from the landing we watched them enter the hall.

      When they were all inside, I released Nobby.

CHAPTER III

       Table of Contents

      HOW A GOLDEN CALF WAS SET UP, AND NOBBY SHOWED HIMSELF A TRUE PROPHET

      Five fat weeks had rolled by since Adèle had eased Jonah of sixty pounds, and the Antoinette ring we had given her to commemorate the feat was now for the first time in danger of suffering an eclipse. In a word, a new star had arisen.

      "I dreamed about it," said Daphne. "I knew I should."

      I knitted my brows.

      "I wish," said I, "I could share your enthusiasm."

      "Ah, but you haven't seen it."

      "I know, but I don't even want to. If you'd come back raving about a piece of furniture or a jewel or a picture, I should have been interested. But a shawl … A shawl leaves me cold."

      "I agree," said Jonah. "I've learned to appear attentive to the description of a frock. I keep a special indulgent smile for the incoherence inspired by a hat. But when you pipe to me the praises of a shawl—well, I'm unable to dance."

      "Wait till you see it," said Adèle. "Besides, there were some lovely rugs."

      "That's better," said I. "I like a good rug."

      "Well, these were glorious," said Jill. "They had the most lovely sheen. But, of course, the shawl … "

      "If anyone," said Jonah, "says that ugly word again, I shall scream."

      It was half-past nine of a very beautiful morning, and we were breakfasting.

      The last two days had been wet. In the night, however, the clouds had disappeared, leaving the great sky flawless, an atmosphere so rare as tempted shy Distance to approach, and the mountains in all the powdered glory of their maiden snow.

      Seventy miles of magic—that is what Pau stares at. For the Pyrenees, viewed from this royal box, are purely magical. They do not rise so high—eleven thousand feet, as mountains go, is nothing wonderful. There is no might nor majesty about them—distant some thirty odd miles. They are just an exquisite wall, well and truly laid, and carved with that careless cunning of the great Artificer into the likeness of some screen in Heaven.

      Where, then, is the magic? Listen. These mountains are never the same. To-day they are very nigh; to-morrow they will stand farther than you have ever seen them. On Monday they will lie a mere ridge above the foot-hills; on Tuesday they will be towering, so that you must lift up your eyes to find the summits. But yesterday you marvelled at their stablishment; this morning they will be floating above the world. One week the clear-cut beauty of their lines and curves gladdens your heart; the next, a mocking mystery of soft blurred battlements will tease your vision. Such shifting sorcery is never stale. Light, shade, and atmosphere play such fantastic tricks with Pau's fair heritage that the grey town, curled comfortably in the sunshine upon her plateau's edge, looks not on one, but upon many prospects. The pageant of the Pyrenees is never done.

      As for the wedding garment which they had put on in the night—it made us all late for breakfast.

      The door opened to admit Berry.

      The look of resignation upon his face and the silence in which he took his seat where highly eloquent.

      There was no need to ask what was the matter. We knew. Big with the knowledge, we waited upon the edge of laughter.

      As he received his coffee—

      "I'm not going on like this," he said shortly. "It's insanitary."

      Adèle's lips twitched, and Jill put a hand to her mouth.

      "I can't think how it is," said Daphne. "Mine was all right."

      "Of course it was," retorted her husband. "So was Adèle's. So was Jill's. By the time you three nymphs are through, there's no hot water left."

      "That," said I, "is where the geyser comes in. The agent was at some pains to point out that it was an auxiliary."

      "Was he, indeed?" said Berry. "Well, if he'd been at some pains to point out that it leaked, stank, became white-hot, and was generally about the finest labour-wasting device ever invented, he'd 've been nearer the mark. If he'd added that it wasn't a geyser at all, but a cross between a magic lantern and a money-box——"

      "Knack," said Jonah. "That's all it needs. You haven't got the hang of it yet."

      The savagery with which my brother-in-law attacked a roll was almost frightening.

      "W-why money-box?" said Jill tremulously.

      "Because," said Berry, "it has to be bribed to devil you. Until you've put ten centimes in the metre, you don't get any gas. It's a pretty idea."

      Adèle began to shake with laughter.

      "You must have done something wrong," said I.

      Berry shrugged his shoulders.

      "Provided," he said, "that you are fairly active and physically fit, you can't go wrong. But it's a strain on one's sanity. … No, I don't think I'll have any omelet. They're so impatient."

      I decided to apply the spur.

      "But the agent showed us exactly——"

      "Look here," said Berry, "you enter that bathroom, clothed—after a fashion—and in your right mind. Then you leave it for some matches. On your return you turn on the gas. After wasting four matches, you laugh pleasantly, put on your dressing-gown again, and go about the house asking everyone for a ten-centime piece … This you place in the slot. Then you go out again and try to remember where you put the matches. By the time you're back, the whole room is full of gas, so you open the window wide and clean your teeth to fill up the time. Long before it's safe you strike another match. The thing lights with an explosion that shortens your life. … In about two minutes it emits a roaring sound and begins to shake all over. By now all the taps are red-hot, and, by the time you've burnt yourself to hell, you're wondering whether, if you start at once, you'll have time to leave the house before the thing bursts. Finally, you knock the gas off with the cork mat. …

      "After a decent interval you start again. This time you turn on the water first. Stone cold, of course. When you've used enough gas to roast an ox, you hope like anything and reduce the flow." He paused to pass a hand wearily across his eyes. "Have you ever seen Vesuvius in eruption?" he added. "I admit no rocks were discharged—at least, I didn't see any. There may be some in the bath. I didn't wait to look. … Blinded by the steam, deafened by the noise, you make a rush for the door. This seems to have been moved. You feel all over the walls, like a madman. In the frenzy of despair—it's astonishing how one clings to life—you СКАЧАТЬ