‘What on earth’s going on?’ I demanded.
‘I’m very sorry if it offended your ears, sir,’ replied Greylag, ‘but the piece is a useful means for exercising the orchestra.’
‘Is it really necessary?’
‘I’m afraid so, sir,’ he said. ‘We’ve been rather under-stretched of late.’
‘You mean unchallenged?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I see.’
Greylag remained standing on the podium with this vast and accomplished, yet clearly unfulfilled, orchestra gathered all around him. Meanwhile, an idea that had been developing in the back of my mind gradually came to fruition. The moment was waiting to be seized.
I ordered Greylag to dismiss the musicians for the evening. They were soon packing away their instruments; then I sat him down and explained what I wanted to do.
‘To coincide with the twelve-day feast,’ I began, ‘the cabinet has decided to present a courtly entertainment in the form of a play. I won’t bother telling you the title because you probably won’t have heard of it, but I’d like the orchestra to provide an overture which conveys the sense of turbulence, menace and impending doom that characterises the work. It will require elements suggesting nocturnal subterfuge, unnamed peril and grim descent, as well as the more obvious effects: wailing harbingers, howling winds, screeching owls, trumpet blasts, bells chiming, storms raging and cocks crowing.’
While I’d been talking I had hardly glanced at Greylag, but when finally I looked him in the face I saw that his eyes were glistening. He was paying the closest attention to my words, yet at the same time he appeared to be deep in thought, as if he was already plotting the course of the composition I’d requested.
‘What do you think, Greylag?’ I asked.
For a few seconds he seemed unable to reply. He was hardly even breathing and continued to just sit there with a faraway look in his eyes. Then at last he snapped out of it.
‘Yes, sir,’ he stammered. ‘We can do it, and we can start at once!’
He rose to his feet and began pacing about with his hands clasped together.
‘Yes, yes,’ he continued, talking mostly to himself. ‘We can have oboes. There must be oboes in the beginning, playing very faintly at first. Then the horns. .’
Greylag broke off when he saw me staring at him.
‘Go on,’ I said. ‘I’m listening.’
He came and stood before me. ‘I’m sorry to get so carried away, sir, but such an opportunity hasn’t come my way before. I promise I will do everything to make this the greatest piece of music you have ever heard.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it, Greylag,’ I said. ‘So I can leave you to it, can I?’
‘Yes, indeed, sir. Thank you, sir.’
‘No, Greylag,’ I said. ‘It’s me who should be thanking you.’
By the time I left the cake Greylag had recalled all the musicians and was addressing them from the podium. Outside, darkness had fallen. I wandered back across the park feeling most content. Greylag had promised me the greatest piece of music I’d ever heard, and I was determined to hold him to it. Tonight, however, the unknown pleasures of the Maypole awaited.
When I reached the observatory I found the door wide open. I could hear voices above, so quietly I mounted the spiral staircase. Whimbrel, it seemed, was giving Sanderling a guided tour. I listened with interest.
‘Now in this window,’ Whimbrel announced, ‘we have Jupiter. The most majestic of celestial bodies, I’m sure you’ll agree.’
‘Hmm hmm,’ said Sanderling.
‘Obviously this particular display won’t last long,’ Whimbrel continued. ‘Within only a few weeks Jupiter will be moving away on a separate orbit. Such are the motions of the heavens.’
I concluded that Whimbrel must have got down to studying his subject more thoroughly. I also realised that I could not carry on lurking in the shadows, so I clanged my feet on the iron stairway to make my presence known.
‘Ah, there you are,’ said Whimbrel when I reached the top. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to arrive.’
‘Good evening,’ said Sanderling.
‘Good evening,’ I replied.
‘I was just telling Sanderling about Jupiter,’ Whimbrel informed me. ‘Needless to say, it would look even better if we could use the telescope.’
‘Doesn’t yours work then?’ enquired Sanderling.
‘No,’ said Whimbrel. ‘It’s jammed.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare telescopes over at the admiralty?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Sanderling.
‘Oh.’
‘We haven’t got any ships either.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Whimbrel. ‘You must have.’
‘I can assure you we haven’t.’
‘I thought the whole empire was built on ships.’
‘Maybe it was,’ said Sanderling, ‘but there aren’t any now.’
‘What do you do all day then?’ I asked.
‘Nothing much,’ he said. ‘I was thinking of learning about navigation but apparently you can’t get started unless you know where north is.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘Whimbrel can show you how to find that.’
‘Can I?’ said Whimbrel. ‘Oh, yes, north. Sorry. Follow me.’
He led Sanderling to one of the windows opposite and then explained in very precise terms exactly how to locate the Pole Star.
‘That was very good,’ I said, when he’d finished. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘I’m suddenly finding astronomy much more interesting,’ Whimbrel answered, ‘and I’ve decided I’m going to the library to read about it properly.’
‘Even if Smew’s there?’ said Sanderling.
‘Of course,’ said Whimbrel. ‘I’m an officer-of-state. I can go there whenever I like.’
‘You’re coming to Smew’s next history talk as well,’ I added.
‘Am I?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You’re going to sit next to me and not sneak out before the end.’
‘What about me?’ said Sanderling.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘You only seem interested in finding out about dancing girls.’
‘Well, someone has to,’ he said. ‘Talking of which, aren’t we supposed to be visiting the Maypole?’
Without further discussion the three of us buttoned our dandy coats and headed out into the night. A few minutes later, when we walked past the cake, I was pleased to hear the faint sound of instruments being tuned.
‘Your musicians seem to be hard at work,’ remarked Whimbrel.
‘Oh, yes,’ I said. ‘They never rest.’
Our arrival at the Maypole was met by the usual din of laughter, songs and glasses tinkling. We looked at one another for a long moment; then I pushed open the door and we went inside. We found the place busy but not too crowded. Seated around the tables and in alcoves were an assortment of commoners. One or two of them glanced in our direction as we entered but the majority took no notice, which I had to admit came as a slight relief. There was, as I had imagined, a huge log fire blazing in the hearth; also a dartboard; and over in one corner a number of off-duty postmen were enjoying a noisy game of dominoes. I knew they were postmen by their familiar scarlet and black uniforms. I wondered vaguely how they managed to stay up late at night carousing when they had to get up so early in the morning; but then I decided that they probably caught up with their sleep in the afternoons.
Opposite the door was a counter lined with hand-pumps; behind it stood the publican. He was polishing glasses very slowly, one by one, and placing them upside down on a shelf.