Project Gutenberg Etext The Brother of Daphne

D >> Dornford Yates >> Project Gutenberg Etext The Brother of Daphne

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

THE BROTHER OF DAPHNE by Dornford Yates

Chapter I Punch and Judy
Chapter II Clothes and the man
Chapter III When it was dark
Chapter IV Adam and New Year's eve
Chapter V The Judgement of Paris
Chapter VI Which to adore
Chapter VII Every picture tells a story
Chapter VIII The Busy Beers
Chapter IX A point of honour
Chapter X Pride goeth before
Chapter XI The love scene
Chapter XII The order of the bath
Chapter XIII A lucid interval
Chapter XIV A private view
Chapter XV All found

CHAPTER I

PUNCH AND JUDY

"I said you'd do something," said Daphne, leaning back easily in
her long chair.

I stopped swinging my legs and looked at her.

"Did you, indeed." I said coldly.

My sister nodded dreamily.

"Then you lied, darling. In your white throat," I said
pleasantly.

"By the way, d'you know if the petrol's come?"

"I don't even care," said Daphne. "But I didn't lie, old chap.
My word is- "

"Your bond? Quite so. But not mine. The appointment I have in
Town that day-"

"Which day?" said Daphne, with a faint smile.

"The fete day."

"Ah!"

It was a bazaar fete thing. Daphne and several others -
euphemistically styled workers- had conspired and agreed together
to obtain money by false pretences for and on behalf of a certain
mission, to wit the Banana. I prefer to put it that way. There
is a certain smack about the wording of an indictment. Almost a
relish. The fact that two years before I had been let in for a
stall and had defrauded fellow men and women of a considerable
sum of money, but strengthened my determination not to be
entrapped again. At the same time I realized that I was up
against it.

The crime in question was fixed for Wednesday or Thursday-so
much I knew. But no more. There was the rub. I really could
not toil up to Town two days running.

"Let's see," I said carelessly," the fete's on- er- Wednesday,
or Thursday, is it?"

"Which day are you going up to Town?" said Daphne. I changed
my ground.

"The Bananas are all right," I said, lighting a cigarette.

"They only ate a missionary the other day," said my sister.

"That's bad," said I musingly. "To any nation the consumption
of home produce is of vital- "

"We want to make sixty pounds."

"To go towards their next meal? How much do missionaries cost?"

"To save their souls alive," said Daphne zealously.

"I'm glad something's to be saved alive," said I.

Before she could reply, tea began to appear. When the footman
had retired to fetch the second instalment of accessories, I
pointed the finger of scorn at the table, upon which he had set
the tray.

"That parody emanated from a bazaar," I said contemptuously.

"It does for the garden," said my sister.

"It'd do for anything," said I. " Its silly sides, its crazy
legs-"

"Crazy?" cried Daphne indignantly. "It'd bear an elephant."

"What if it would?" I said severely. "It's months since we gave
up the elephants."

"Is the kettle ready?"

"It boils not, neither does it sing."

"For which piece of irreverence you will do something on
Thursday."

"My dear girl," I said hurriedly, " if it were not imperative
for me to be in Town- "

"You will do something on Thursday." I groaned.

"And this," I said, "this is my mother's daughter! We have
been nursed together, scolded together, dandled in the same
arms. If she had not been the stronger of the two, we should
have played with the same toys."

I groaned again. Berry opened his eyes.

"The value of a siesta upon a summer afternoon- " he began.

I cut in with a bitter laugh. "What's he going to do?" I said.

"Take a stall, of course," said Daphne.

"Is he? said Berry comfortably. "Is he? If motoring with
Jonah to Huntercombe, and playing golf all day, is not
incompatible with taking a stall on Thursday, I will sell
children's underwear and egg cosies with eclat. Otherwise- "

"Golf," I said, "golf! Why don't I play golf?"

"I know," said Berry; "because- "

"Miserable man!" said Daphne.

"Who?" said her husband.

"You."

Berry turned to me. "You hear?" he said. " Vulgar abuse. And
why? Simply because a previous engagement denies to me the
opportunity of subscribing to this charitable imposition.
Humble as would have been my poor assistance, it would have been
rendered with a willing heart. But there!" he sighed- " It may
not be. The Bananas will never know, never realize how- By the
way, who are the Bananas?"

"The Bananas?" said I. "Surely you know the- "

"Weren't at Ascot, were they?"

"Not in the Enclosure. No. The bold, bad Bananas are in many
ways an engaging race. Indeed, some of the manners and customs
which they affect are of a quite peculiar interest. Let us
look, brother, for a moment, at their clothing. At the first
blush- I use the word advisedly- it would seem that, like the
fruit from which they take their name- "

"I thought you'd better do some tricks," said Daphne, throwing a
dark look in my direction.

"Of course," I said; "the very thing. I've always been so good
at tricks."

"I mean it," said Daphne.

"Of course you do. What about the confidence trick? Can any
lady oblige me with a public-house?"

"She means trick-cycling, stupid," said Berry. "Riding
backwards on one wheel while you count the ball-bearings."

"Look here," I said, "if Berry could have come and smoked a
cigarette, I wouldn't have minded trying to flick the ash off it
with a hunting-whip."

"Pity about that golf," mused Berry. "And you might have thrown
knives round me afterwards. As it is, you'll have to recite."

In a few telling sentences I intimated that I would do nothing
of the kind.

"I will appear," I said at last, "I will appear and run round
generally, but I promise nothing more."

"Nonsense," said my sister. "I have promised, and I'm not going
to let you break my word. You are going to do something
definite."

"Desperate?"

"Definite. You have three days in which to get ready. There's
Jill calling me. We're going to run over to Barley to whip up
the Ashton crowd. D'you think we've enough petrol?"

"I don't even care," said I.

Daphne laughed softly. Then: "I must go," she said, getting
up. "Give me a cigarette and tell me if you think this dress'll
do. I'm going to change my shoes."

"If," said I, producing my cigarette-case, "if you were half as
nice as you invariably look- "

"That's a dear," she said, taking a cigarette. "And now,
good-bye."

I watched her retreating figure gloomily.

Berry began to recite 'We are Seven.'

Thursday morning broke cloudless and brilliant. I saw it break.
Reluctantly, of course; I am not in the habit of rising at
cock-crow. But on this occasion I rose because I could not
sleep. When I went to bed on Wednesday night, I lay awake
thinking deeply about what I was to do on the morrow. Daphne
had proved inexorable. My brain, usually so fertile, had become
barren, and for my three days' contemplation of the subject I
had absolutely nothing to show. It was past midnight before I
fell into a fitful slumber, only to be aroused three hours and a
half later by the sudden burst of iniquity with which two or
more cats saw fit to shake the silence of the rose-garden.

As I threw out the boot-jack, I noticed the dawn. And as
further sleep seemed out of the question, I decided to dress and
go out into the woods.

When I slipped out of Knight's Bottom into the sunlit road to
find myself face to face with a Punch and Judy show, I was not
far from being momentarily disconcerted. For a second it
occurred to me that I might be dreaming, but, though I listened
carefully, I could hear no cats, so I sat down on the bank by
the side of the road and prepared to contemplate the phenomenon.

When I say 'Punch and Judy show' I am wrong. Although what I
saw suggested the proximity of a Punch and a Judy, to say
nothing of the likelihood of a show, I did not, as a matter of
fact, descry any one of the three. The object that presented
itself to my view was the tall, rectangular booth, gaudy and
wide-mouthed, with which, until a few years ago, the streets of
London were so familiar. Were! Dear old Punch and Judy, how
quickly you are becoming a thing of the past! How soon you will
have gone the way of Jack-i'-the Green, Pepper's Ghost, the
Maypole, and many another old friend! Out of the light into the
darkness. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and in
a little space men shall be content to wonder at your ancient
memory as their grandfathers marvelled at that of the frolics of
my Lord of Misrule. However.

There was the booth. But that was all. It stood quite alone at
the side of the white road. I walked round it. Nothing. I
glanced up and down the road, but there was no one in sight. I
had been feeling hungry, for it was seven o'clock; but this was
better than breakfast, and I returned to the bank. The little
red curtains fluttered, as a passing breeze caught them, and I
marked how bright and new they looked. It was certainly in good
condition- this booth.

"Well?" said a voice.

"Well?" said I.

A pause. A girl's voice it was: coming from within the booth.

"You seem rather surprised," said the voice.

"No, no," I said, "not really surprised. Only a little
staggered. You see, I know so few booths."

"What are you doing here?"

"To be frank, booth, I'm waiting."

"I'm waiting, too."

"So?" said I. "I wait, you wait, let us wait, ye shall have
been about to see, they would- "

"What are you waiting for?"

"Developments. And you?"

"My breakfast."

I looked up and down the road. "I don't see it coming," I said
anxiously. "What's it look like?"

"Milk. You don't happen to have any, I suppose?"

I felt in my pockets.

"There, now," I said, "I must have left it on the piano. I got
up rather hurriedly this morning," I added apologetically.

"Never mind."

"I'll tell you what, booth, I'll go and get some."

"No, thanks very much. Don't you bother; it'll come along
presently."

"Are you sure? This isn't 'The Blue Bird.'"

"Yes, it's all right- really."

There was another pause. Then:

"Hadn't you better be getting back to breakfast?" said the
girl.

"Not much," said I. "I don't run up against booths every day.
Besides- "

"Besides what?"

"Well, booth, I'm awfully curious."

"What do you want to know?"

"You're very good."

"I didn't say I'd tell you."

"I'll risk that. In a word, why are you?"

"Ah!"

I waited in silence for a few moments. At length:

"Suppose," she said slowly, "suppose a bet had been made."

"A bet?"

"A bet."

"Shocking! Go on."

"Well? Isn't that enough?"

"Nothing like."

"I don't think much of your imagination."

I raised my eyes to heaven. "A prophet is not without honour,"
I quoted.

"Is this your own country?"

"It is."

"Oh, I say, you'd be the very man!"

"I am," I said. "Refuse substitutes."

It gradually appeared that, in a rash moment, she had made some
silly wager that she could give a Punch and Judy show on her
own in the village of Lynn Hammer and the vicinity. Of course,
she had not meant it. She had spoken quite idly, secure in
the very impracticability of the thing. But certain
evil-disposed persons- referred to mysteriously as 'they'-had
fastened greedily upon her words, and, waving aside her
objection that she had no paraphernalia, deliberately proceeded
to provide the same, that she might have no excuse. The booth
was run up, the puppets procured. The gentle hint that she
wanted to withdraw had been let fall at the exact moment with
deadly effect, and- the wicked work was done. She had been
motored over and here set down, complete with booth, half an
hour ago. They were going to look back later, just to see how
she was getting on. The ordeal was to be over and the wager won
by six o'clock, and she might have the assistance of a native in
her whimsical venture.

"Right up to the last I believe the brutes thought I would cry
off," she said. "I very nearly did, too, when it came to it.
Only I saw Peter smiling. It is rather a hopeless position,
isn't it?"

"It was. But now that you've got your native- "

"Oh!" she said. Then: "But I've got one."

"Where?"

"He's getting the milk."

"I don't believe he is. Anyway, you can discharge him and take
me on. I've been out of work for years. Besides, you've been
sent. In your advent I descry the finger of Providence."

"I wish I did. What do you mean?"

"This day," I said, "I am perforce a zealot."

"A what?"

"A zealot- a Banana zealot. You, too, shall be a zealot. We
will unite our zeal, and this day light such a candle- "

"The man's mad," she said. "Quite mad."

I explained. "You see," I said, "it's like this. Simply miles
away, somewhere south south and by south of us, there are a lot
of heathen. They're called Bananas. I don't know very much
about it, but there seems to be a sort of understanding that we
should keep them in missionaries. So every now and then the
'worker' push here get up a fete thing and take money off
people. Then they find one and send him out. Well, there's one
of these stunts on this afternoon, and I've been let in to do
something. That's why I look so pale and interesting. The last
day or two I've been desperate about it. But now..."

"Now what?"

"If you'd let me help you to-day, we could take the show to the
fete and simply rake it in. It's a splendid way of winning your
bet, too. Oh, booth, isn't it obvious that you've been sent?"

"It certainly would be nicer than giving performances about the
village," she said musingly. "If only I knew you- "

"You don't know the fellow who isn't getting the milk," I
objected.

"That's different. He'd be only a servant."

"I would be the same."

There was a pause. A rabbit loped into the road and blinked
curiously at the booth. Then he saw me and beat a hasty
retreat.

"It is in a good cause," I urged. "You don't know the Bananas;
they're absurdly- er -straight."

"It's all very well for you," she said; "you know everybody
here. But it would be an impossible position for me; I don't
know a soul. Now, if we were both strangers- "

"Well?"

"Well, then they wouldn't worry as to who we were and what we
had to do with one another."

"Then let's both be strangers."

"How can you be strange to order?"

" Hush!" I said. "I will disguise me. At home I have put away
a Pierrot dress not one of them knows anything about, and I think
I
can raise a mask. If I- "

A stifled exclamation from the booth made me look up. Framed in
its mouth, her arms folded and resting on the ledge, was the
girl.
What I could see of her was dressed as a Pierrot. Her hair was
concealed under a black silk cap, and the familiar white felt
conical hat sat jauntily over one ear. A straight, white nose,
and a delicate chin, red lips parted and smiling a little, such a
smile as goes always with eyebrows just raised, very alluring- so
much only I saw. For the rest, a strip of black velvet made an
irritating mask.

I made her a low bow.

"I can see this is going to be a big thing," I said, " Won't you
come down?"

"I haven't even said I'll take you,"

"Please."

"You're sure to be recognized, and then, what about me?"

"Oh, no, I shan't. If necessary, I'll wear a false nose. I've
got one somewhere."

"Here's my milk."

I looked round and beheld a small boy approaching with a jug.

"Was that the best you could do in the native line?"

"You needn't sneer. I'm not over-confident about my second
venture."

"Well, a knave's better than a fool, any day."

"I'm sure I hope so."

She slipped down out of sight into the booth again, to reappear
a moment later in the road: and by her side a beautiful white
bull-terrier, a Toby ruff about his sturdy neck.

"Good man," said my lady, pointing a finger at me. "Good man."

The dog came forward, wagging his tail. I stooped and spoke with
him. Then I turned to his mistress. She had discarded her white
hat and drawn on a long dust-coat, which reached almost to her
ankles. She held it close about her, as she walked. It showed
off her slim figure to great advantage. Below, the wide edges of
white duck trousers just appeared above shining insteps and high
heeled shoes.

When the urchin had come up, she took the jug from him with both
hands.

"I shall have to drink out of it," she said, raising it to her
lips with a smile.

"Of course. Why not? Only ..."

I hesitated.

"What?"

"Hadn't you better- I mean, won't the mask get in your way?"

She lowered the jug and looked at me. "No; it won't get in the
way. Thanks all the same," she said steadily. "Not all to-day."

"It's in the way now."

"Not my way."

I saw her eyes watching my face as she drank, and when she took
the jug from her lips she was smiling.

We had some difficulty in persuading the boy to leave us; but at
length, a heavy bribe, coupled with the assurance that we should
be at the fete in the afternoon, had the desired effect, and he
went slowly away.

Thereafter we took counsel together.

As a result, it was decided that we should fold the booth -it
shut up like a screen- and convey it, puppets and all, a little
way into the wood. It was early yet, but some people would be
passing along the road, and we were not yet ready to combat the
curiosity that the appearance of a Punch and Judy show would be
sure to arouse. That done, she would lie close in the wood
with Toby, while I made off home and changed.

As I started off, after settling her in the bracken, I heard the
village clock strike the half-hour. Half-past seven. I gained
the house unobserved. No one was abroad except the servants, but
I heard Daphne singing in the bathroom.

I had worn the Pierrot dress two years ago at a fancy-dress ball.

There it lay with its mask at the bottom of the wardrobe. The
change was soon completed, and I stood up a proper Folly, from
the skull cap upon my crown to the pumps upon my feet. It took
some time to find the nose, but luck was with me, and at last I
ran it to earth in an old collar-box. Truly an appalling
article, it stuck straight out from my face like a fat, fiery
peg, but between that and the mask, my disguise would defy
detection.

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. Sitting down, I scribbled a
note to Daphne to the effect that, owing to a sleepless night,
my nerve had forsaken me, and that, unable to face the terror of
the bazaar, I had fled to Town, and should not be back till late.
I added that I should be with her in the spirit, which, after
all, was the main thing.

I put on a long overcoat and a soft hat. The nose went into
one pocket, the mask into another. Then I went cautiously
downstairs and into the dining-room. It was empty, and breakfast
was partially laid.

In feverish haste I hacked about a pound of meat off a York ham
and nearly as much off a new tongue. Wrapping the slices in a
napkin, I thrust them into the pocket with the nose. To add
half a brown loaf to the mask and drain the milk jug was the
work of another moment, and, after laying the note on Daphne's
plate, I slipped out of the French windows and into the bushes as
I heard William come down the passage. A quarter of an hour
later I was back again in the wood.

She was sitting on a log, swinging her legs to and fro. When I
took off my coat and hat, she clapped her hands in delight.

"Wait till you see the nose," said I.

When presently I slipped that French monstrosity into place, she
laughed so immoderately that her brown hair broke loose from
under the black silk cap and tumbled gloriously about her
shoulders.

"There now," she said. "See what you've done."

"Good for the nose," said I.

"It's all very well to say that, but it took me ages to get it
all under the wretched cap this morning."

"I shouldn't put it back again if I were you. You see," I went
on earnestly, "everybody will know you're a girl, Judy dear."

"Why, Punch?" She drew aside the dust coat and revealed the
wide Pierrot trousers she was wearing.

"Priceless," I admitted. "But what I really love are your feet."
She
looked concernedly at her little, high-heeled shoes.

I stooped to flick the dust from their patent leather.

"Thank you, Punch. What shall I do about my hair, then?"

"Wear it in a pig-tail. I'll plait it for you. It'll be worth
another sovereign to the Bananas."

"If you put it like that-" she said slowly.

"I do, Judy."
If the suggestion was not prompted by motives which were entirely
disinterested, I think I may be forgiven.

"I say, Judy," I said a little later, pausing unnecessarily in
my work, and making pretence to comb with my fingers the tresses
as yet ungathered into the plait.

"Yes? What a long time you are!"

Well, there was a knot.

She tried to look round into my face at that, but I vigorously
unplaited about two inches, which seemed to satisfy her. For me,
I thought of Penelope and her web and the wooers, and smiled.

"Well, what is it, Punch?"

"About the mask."

"No good!"

"But, Judy- "

For the next two minutes I did a little listening. When she
paused for breath:

"Have some ham," I suggested.

"Bother the ham! Do you hear what I say?"

"I heard you bother the ham."

"Before that?"

"Something about a mask, was it?"

"Give me back my hair," she demanded.

"No, no," I said hastily, "not that! I won't ask again."

"Promise."

"I promise."

When I had finished the plaiting, I tied the ends with a piece
of ribbon which she produced, kissed them, and sat down in the
grass at her feet.

We had oceans of time, for the fete did not begin till two. But
we
agreed there must be a rehearsal of some kind.

"What do you know about yourself, Punch?"

"I have a foggy recollection of domestic differences."

"You used to beat me cruelly."

"Ah, but you had a nagging tongue, Judy. I can hear your defiant
'wootle' now."

Her lips parted in a smile at the reminiscence, and before they
closed again she had slipped something between them. The next
instant the wood rang with a regular hurricane of toots and
wootles.

"Oh, Judy!"

"Wootle?" she said inquiringly.

"Rather! But hush- you'll wake the echoes."

"And why not? They ought to be up and about by now."

I shook my head.

"They're a sleepy folk," I said; "they get so little rest. The
day is noisy enough, but at night, what with dogs baying the
moon, and the nightjars calling, when owls do cry- "

"When owls do cry- "

"- and the earnest but mistaken chanticleer, they have a rotten
time. Poor echoes! And they wake very easily here."

"Don't they everywhere?"

"Oh, no! I know some that are very heavy sleepers. In fact,
it's hopeless to try and wake them without the welkin."

"The welkin?"

"Yes, you make him ring, you know. They nearly always hear
him. And if they don't the first time, you make him ring again."

For a little space she laughed helplessly. At last:

"I am an idiot to encourage you. Seriously," she added, "about
the little play."

"Presently by us to be enacted?"

"The plot," I said, "is as follows. Punch has a row with Judy
and knocks her out. (Laughter.) Various well-intentioned and
benignant fools look in on Punch to pass the time of day, and
get- very properly- knocked out for their pains. (Loud and
prolonged laughter.) This is followed by the side-splitting
incident in which a handy clown not only eludes the thirsty
bludgeon, but surreptitiously steals the inevitable sausages.
Exit clown. Punch, already irritated at having missed clown,
misses sausages, and exit in high dudgeon. Re-enter Judy,
followed by sausaged clown, who comforts her. (Oh, Judy!)
Re-enter Punch. Justifiable tussle. Punch sees sausages and
begins to find his length. Clown sees stars and exit. Punch
knocks out Judy with a left hook. To him, gloating, enter
constable. It seems Judy's knock-out more serious than usual.
Constable suggests that Punch shall go quietly. Punch does not
see it, and retires to fetch persuader. Constable protests and
is persuaded. (Laughter.) Enter ghost- not clear whose ghost,
but any ghost in a storm. Punch unnerved. Ghost gibbers. Punch
more unnerved. Ghost gibbers again. Punch terrified. Exit
ghost and enter hangman, to whom Punch, unstrung by recent
encounter with apparition, falls an easy prey. Curtain. You bow
from the mouth of the booth. I adjust nose and collect money in
diminutive tin pail. How's that?"

"Lovely, Punch! But where does Toby dear come in?"

At the mention of his name the terrier rose and went to her.
His mistress stroked his soft head.

"In the background," said I. " Or the offing (nautical). I
don't think he'd better act. Let him be stage-door-keeper."

"All right. Now open the puppet-box."

It was a nice set of puppets, and they were very simple to
manipulate. They fitted easily on to the hand, the forefinger
controlling the head, and the thumb and second finger the arms.
The old fellow's cudgel was a dream.

We decided that I had better stick to Punch and Punch alone.
For the others she would be answerable.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17