Thank You, Jeeves

But apparently this wasn't just one of those chummy gatherings which recall the old-time salon.

'Are you aware, sir, that there's a window broke at the back of your residence? My young nephew here spotted it and thought best to wake me up and have me investigate. A ground-floor window, sir, with a whole pane of glass gone from it.'

I simpered slightly.

'Oh, that? Yes, Brinkley did that yesterday. Silly ass!'

'You knew about it, then, sir?'

'Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Quite all right, Sergeant.'

'Well, you know best if it's quite all right, sir, but I should say there was a danger of marauders getting through.'

And at this juncture the chump of a constable, who had hitherto not spoken, shoved his oar in.

'I thought I did see a marauder getting through, Uncle Ted.'

'What! Then why didn't you tell me before, you young muttonhead? And don't call me Uncle Ted when we're on duty.'

'No, Uncle Ted.'

'You'd best let us make a search of the 'ouse, sir,' said Sergeant Voules.

Well, I put the presidential veto on this pretty quick.

'Certainly not, Sergeant,' I said. 'Quite out of the q.'

'It would be wiser, sir.'

'I'm sorry,' I said, 'but it can't be done.'

He seemed piqued and discontented.

'Well, please yourself, sir, but you're shackling the police, that's what you're doing. There's too much shackling of the police these days. There was a piece in the Mail about it yesterday. Perhaps you read it?'

'No.'

'On the middle page. Unshackle the police, it said, because public alarm is growing in Great Britain owing to the continuous increase of crime in the lonely rural districts. I clipped it out to paste in my album. The number of indictable offences, it said, has rose from one three four five eight one in 1929 to one four seven nought three one in 1930, with a marked increase of seven per cent in crimes of violence, and is this disturbing state of things due to slackness on the part of the police, it said? No, it said, it's not. It's because the police are shackled.'

The man was obviously cut to the quick. Dashed awkward.

'Well, I'm sorry,' I said.

'Yes, sir, and you're going to be sorrier when you go upstairs to your bedroom and a marauder cuts your throat from ear to ear.'

'Fight against these gloomy views, my dear old police sergeant,' I said. 'I anticipate no such contingency. I've just come from upstairs, and I give you my word there were no marauders.'

'Probably lurking, sir.'

'Biding their time,' suggested Constable Dobson.

Sergeant Voules sighed heavily.

'I wouldn't like nothing to happen to you, sir, seein' you're a close friend of his lordship's. But as you prove obdurate ...'

'Oh, nothing could happen to anyone in a place like Chuffnell Regis.'

'Don't you believe it, sir. Chuffnell Regis is going down. I would never have thought to have seen a troupe of nigger minstrels singing comic songs within a stone's throw of my police station.'

'You view them with concern?'

'There's been fowls missing,' said Sergeant Voules darkly. 'Several fowls. And I have my suspicions. Well, come along, Constable. If we're to be shackled, there's nothing to keep us here. Good night, sir.'

'Good night.'

I shut the door and buzzed back to the bedroom. Pauline was sitting up in bed, more or less agog.

'Who was it?'

'The constabulary.'

'What did they want?'

'Apparently they saw you getting in.'

'What a lot of trouble I'm giving you, Bertie.'

'Oh, no. Only too pleased. Well, I suppose I might as well be pushing along.'

'Are you going?'

'In the circumstances,' I replied a little frigidly, 'I can hardly doss on the premises. I shall withdraw to the garage.'

'Isn't there a sofa downstairs?'

'There is. Noah's. He brought it ashore on Mount Ararat. I shall be better off in the car.'

'Oh, Bertie, I am giving you a lot of trouble.'

I softened slightly. After all, the poor girl was scarcely to be blamed for what had occurred. As Chuffy had remarked earlier in the evening, love's love.

'Don't you worry, old thing. We Woosters can rough it when it is a matter of giving two fond hearts a leg-up. You put your little head on the pillow and curl your little pink toes up and doze off. I shall be all right.'

And, so saying, I uncorked a kindly smile, popped off, trickled down the stairs, opened the front door, and out into the scented night; and I don't suppose I was a dozen yards from the house when a heavy hand fell on my shoulder, occasioning me both mental and physical distress, and a shadowy form said, 'Gotcher!'

'Ouch!' I replied.

The shadowy form now revealed itself as that of Constable Dobson of the Chuffnell Regis police force. He was in apologetic vein.

'I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir. I thought you was the marauder.'

I forced myself to be airy and affable. The young squire setting the lower orders at their ease.

'Quite all right, Constable. Quite all right. Just going for a stroll.'

'I understand, sir. Breath of air.'

'You have put it in a nutshell. A breath, as you astutely observe, of air. The house is quite close.'

'Yes, sir. Just over there.'

'I mean stuffy.'

'Oh, yes, sir. Well, good night, sir.'

'Tra-la, Constable.'

I proceeded on my way, a little shaken. I had left the garage door open, and I felt my way to the old two-seater, glad to be alone once more. In certain moods, no doubt, one would have found Constable Dobson a delightful and stimulating companion, but to-night I preferred his absence. I climbed into the car and, leaning back, endeavoured to compose myself for sleep.

Now, whether I should have been able to achieve the dreamless had the conditions remained right, I cannot say. The point is pretty moot. As two-seaters go, I had always found mine fairly comfortable, but then I had never before tried to get the eight hours in it, and you would be surprised at the number of knobs and protuberances which seem suddenly to sprout out of a car's upholstery when you seek to convert it into a bed.

But, as it happened, I was not given a square chance of making the test. I don't suppose I could have counted more than about a platoon and a half of sheep when a light suddenly flashed on the features and a voice instructed me to come on out of it.

I sat up.

'Ah, Sergeant!' I said.

Another awkward meeting. Embarrassment on both sides.

'Is that you, sir?'

'Yes.'

'Sorry to have disturbed you, sir.'

'Not at all.'

'Can't say it occurred to me that it might be you in here, sir.'

'I thought I'd try to get a bit of sleep in the old car, Sergeant.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Such a warm night.'

'Just so, sir.'

His voice was respectful, but I could not conquer a suspicion that he was beginning to look a bit askance. There was something in his manner that gave me the idea that he considered Bertram eccentric.

'Stuffy indoors.'

'Yes, sir?'

'I often park myself in the car in the summertime.'

'Yes, sir?'

'Good night, Sergeant.'

'Good night, sir.'

Well, you know how it is when someone butts in on you just as you are shaping for the beauty sleep. It breaks the spell, if you know what I mean. I curled up again, but I soon saw that all efforts in the direction of the restful night in my present environment would be fruitless. I counted about five more medium-sized flocks, but it was no good. Steps, I realized, would have to be taken through other channels.