A Gentleman of Leisure by P. G. Wodehouse (english books to improve english .TXT) 📕

Lord Dreever. Well, what he was saying to me was that he had met this very actor-man, a fellow called Mifflin⁠—Arthur Mifflin⁠—in London just before he met me. He’s in London now, rehearsing for a show that’s come over from America. You see the importance of this item? It means that if you doubt my story all you need to do is to find Mifflin⁠—I forget what theatre his play is coming on at, but you could find out in a second⁠—and ask him to corroborate. Are you satisfied?”

McEachern did not answer. An hour before he would have fought to the last ditch for his belief in Jimmy’s crookedness, but the events of the last ten minutes had shaken him. He felt something of a reaction in Jimmy’s favour.

“Look here, Mr. McEachern,” said Jimmy, “I wish you would listen quietly to me for a minute or two. There’s really no reason on earth why we should be at one another’s throats in this way. We might just as well be friends. Let’s shake hands and call the fight off. I suppose you know why I came here to see you?” McEachern did not speak.

“You know that your daughter has broken off her engagement to Lord Dreever?”

“Then he was right!” said McEachern, half to himself. “It is you?”

Jimmy nodded. McEachern drummed his fingers on the table and stared thoughtfully at him.

“Is Molly⁠—?” he said, at length. “Does Molly⁠—?”

“Yes,” said Jimmy.

McEachern continued his drumming.

“Don’t think there’s been anything underhand about this,” said Jimmy. “She absolutely refused to do anything unless you gave your consent. She said you had been partners all her life, and she was going to do the square thing by you.”

“She did?” said McEachern eagerly.

“I think you ought to do the square thing by her. I’m not much, but she wants me. Do the square thing by her.”

McEachern was staring straight in front of him. There was a look in his eyes which Jimmy had never seen there before⁠—a frightened, hunted look.

“It’s too late,” he burst out. “I’ll be square with her now, but it’s too late. I won’t stand in her way when I can make her happy. But I’ll lose her! Oh, my God, I’ll lose her!

“Did you think I had never said to myself,” he went on, “the things you said to me that day when we met here? Did you think I didn’t know what I was? Who should know it better than myself? But she didn’t⁠—I’d kept it from her. I’d sweat for fear she would find out some day. When I came over here I thought I was safe; and then you came, and I saw you together. I thought you were a crook⁠—you were with Mullins in New York⁠—I told her you were a crook.”

“You told her that?”

“I said I knew it. I couldn’t tell her the truth why I thought so. I said I had made inquiries in New York and found out about you.”

Jimmy saw now. The mystery was solved. So that was why Molly had allowed them to force her into the engagement with Dreever.

“I see,” he said slowly.

McEachern gripped the table in silence.

“I see,” said Jimmy again. “You mean she’ll want an explanation?”

He thought for a moment.

“You must tell her,” he said quickly. “For your own sake you must tell her. Go and do it now. Wake up, man!” He shook him by the shoulder. “Go and do it now. She’ll forgive you. Don’t be afraid of that. Go and look for her and tell her now.”

McEachern roused himself.

“I will,” he said.

“It’s the only way,” said Jimmy.

McEachern opened the door, then fell back a pace. Jimmy could hear voices in the passage outside. He recognised Lord Dreever’s.

McEachern continued to back away from the door.

Lord Dreever entered, with Molly on his arm.

“Halloa!” said his lordship, looking round.

“Halloa, Pitt! Here we all are; what?”

“Lord Dreever wanted to smoke,” said Molly.

She smiled, but there was anxiety in her eyes. She looked quickly at her father and at Jimmy.

“Molly, my dear,” said McEachern huskily, “I want to speak to you for a moment.”

Jimmy took his lordship by the arm.

“Come along, Dreever,” he said. “You can come and sit out with me. We’ll go and smoke on the terrace.”

They left the room together.

“What does the old boy want?” inquired his lordship. “Are you and Miss McEachern⁠—?”

“We are,” said Jimmy.

“By Jove! I say, old chap! Million congratulations and all that sort of rot, you know!”

His lordship had to resume his duties in the ballroom after a while; but Jimmy sat on, smoking and thinking.

In the general stillness the opening of the door at the top of the steps came sharply to his ears. He looked up. Two figures were silhouetted for a moment against the light, and then the door closed again. They began to move slowly down the steps.

Jimmy had recognised them. He got up. He was in the shadow; they could not see him. They began to walk down the terrace. They were quite close now. Neither was speaking, but presently, when they were but a few feet away, they stopped. There was the splutter of a match, and McEachern lit a cigar. In the yellow light his face was clearly visible. Jimmy looked, and was content.

XXX Conclusion

The American liner St. Louis lay in the Empress Dock at Southampton, taking aboard her passengers. All sorts and conditions of men flowed in an unceasing stream up the gangway.

Leaning over the second-class railing, Jimmy Pitt and Spike Mullins watched them thoughtfully.

“Well, Spike,” said Jimmy, “your schooner’s on the tide now, isn’t it? Your vessel’s at the quay. You’ve got some queer-looking fellow travellers. Don’t miss the two Cingalese sports and the man in the turban and baggy breeches. I wonder if they’re airtight? Useful if he fell overboard.”

“Sure,” said Spike, directing a contemplative eye towards the garment in question. “He knows his business.”

“I wonder what those men on the deck are writing? They’ve been scribbling away ever since we