Bill was impressed.
"This puts a different complexion on things, Jeeves."
"Distinctly, m'lord."
"After all, as Pop Biggar says, the pendant practically belongs to him, and he merely wants to borrow it for an hour or two."
"Precisely, m'lord."
Bill turned to the Captain. His mind was made up.
"It's a deal," he said.
"You'll do it?"
"I'll have a shot."
"Stout fellow!"
"Let's hope it comes off."
"It'll come off all right. The clasp is loose."
"I meant I hoped nothing would go wrong."
Captain Biggar scouted the idea. He was all buoyancy and optimism.
"Go wrong? What can possibly go wrong?
You'll be able to think of a hundred ways of getting the dashed thing, two brainy fellers like you.
Well," said the Captain, finishing his whisky, "I'll be going out and doing my exercises."
"At this time of night?"
"Breathing exercises," explained Captain Biggar. "Yoga. And with it, of course, communion with the Jivatma or soul. Toodle-oo, chaps."
He pushed the curtains aside, and passed through the French window.
A long and thoughtful silence followed his departure. The room seemed very still, as rooms always did when Captain Biggar went out of them. Bill was sitting with his chin supported by his hand, like Rodin's Penseur. Then he looked at Jeeves and, having looked, shook his head.
"No, Jeeves," he said.
"M'lord?"
"I can see that feudal gleam in your eye, Jeeves. You are straining at the leash, all eagerness to lend the young master a helping hand. Am I right?"
"I was certainly feeling, m'lord, that in view of our relationship of thane and vassal it was my duty to afford your lordship all the assistance that lay within my power."
Bill shook his head again.
"No, Jeeves, that's out. Nothing will induce me to allow you to go getting yourself mixed up in an enterprise which, should things not pan out as planned, may quite possibly culminate in a five-year stretch at one of our popular prisons. I shall handle this binge alone, and I want no back-chat about it."
"But, m'lord—"
"No back-chat, I said, Jeeves."
"Very good, m'lord."
"All I require from you is advice and counsel. Let us review the position of affairs. We have here a diamond pendant which at the moment of going to press is on the person of Mrs. Spottsworth. The task confronting me —I said me, Jeeves—is somehow to detach this pendant from this person and nip away with it unobserved. Any suggestions?"
"The problem is undoubtedly one that presents certain points of interest, m'lord."
"Yes, I'd got as far as that myself."
"One rules out anything in the nature of violence, I presume, placing reliance wholly on stealth and finesse."
"One certainly does. Dismiss any idea that I propose to swat Mrs. Spottsworth on the napper with a blackjack."
"Then I would be inclined to say, m'lord, that the best results would probably be obtained from what I might term the spider sequence."
"I don't get you, Jeeves."
"If I might explain, m'lord. Your lordship will be joining the lady in the garden?"
"Probably on a rustic seat."
"Then, as I see it, m'lord, conditions will be admirably adapted to the plan I advocate. If shortly after entering into conversation with Mrs. Spottsworth, your lordship were to affect to observe a spider on her hair, the spider sequence would follow as doth the night the day. It would be natural for your lordship to offer to brush the insect off. This would enable your lordship to operate with your lordship's fingers in the neighbourhood of the lady's neck. And if the clasp, as Captain Biggar assures us, is loose, it will be a simple matter to unfasten the pendant and cause it to fall to the ground. Do I make myself clear, m'lord?"
"All straight so far. But wouldn't she pick it up?"
"No, m'lord, because in actual fact it would be in your lordship's pocket. Your lordship would institute a search in the surrounding grass, but without avail, and eventually the search would be abandoned until the following day. The object would finally be discovered late tomorrow evening."
"After Biggar gets back?"
"Precisely, m'lord."
"Nestling under a bush?"
"Or on the turf some little distance away. It had rolled."
"Do pendants roll?"
"This pendant would have done so, m'lord."
Bill chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.
"So that's the spider sequence?"
"That is the spider sequence, m'lord."
"Not a bad scheme at all."
"It has the merit of simplicity, m'lord. And if your lordship is experiencing any uneasiness at the thought of opening cold, as the theatrical expression is, I would suggest our having what in stage parlance is called a quick run through."
"A rehearsal, you mean?"
"Precisely, m'lord. It would enable your lordship to perfect yourself in lines and business. In the Broadway section of New York, where the theatre industry of the United States of America is centred, I am told that this is known as ironing out the bugs."
"Ironing out the spiders."
"Ha, ha, m'lord. But, if I may venture to say so, it is unwise to waste the precious moments in verbal pleasantries."
"Time is of the essence?"
"Precisely, m'lord. Would your lordship like to walk the scene?"
"Yes, I think I would, if you say it's going to steady the nervous system. I feel as if a troupe of performing fleas were practising buck-and-wing steps up and down my spine."
"I have heard Mr. Wooster complain of a similar malaise in moments of stress and trial, m'lord. It will pass."
"When?"
"As soon as your lordship has got the feel of the part. A rustic seat, your lordship said?"
"That's where she was last time."
"Scene, A rustic seat," murmured Jeeves. "Time, A night in summer.
Discovered at rise, Mrs. Spottsworth.
Enter Lord Rowcester. I will portray Mrs.
Spottsworth, m'lord. We open with a few lines of dialogue to establish atmosphere, then bridge into the spider sequence. Your lordship speaks."
Bill marshalled his thoughts.
"Er—Tell me, Rosie—"
"Rosie, m'lord?"
"Yes, Rosie, blast it. Any objection?"
"None whatever, m'lord."
"I used to know her at Cannes."
"Indeed, m'lord? I was not aware. You were saying, m'lord?"
"Tell me, Rosie, are you afraid of spiders?"
"Why does your lordship ask?"
"There's rather an outsize specimen crawling on the back of your hair." Bill sprang about six inches in the direction of the ceiling. "What on earth did you do that for?" he demanded irritably.
Jeeves preserved his calm.
"My reason for screaming, m'lord, was merely to add verisimilitude. I supposed that that was how a delicately nurtured lady would be inclined to react on receipt of such a piece of information."
"Well, I wish you hadn't. The top of my head nearly came off."
"I am sorry, m'lord. But it was how I saw the scene. I felt it, felt it here," said Jeeves, tapping the left side of his waistcoat. "If your lordship would be good enough to throw me the line once more."
"There's rather an outsize specimen crawling on the back of your hair."
"I would be grateful if your lordship would be so kind as to knock it off."
"I can't see it now. Ah, there it goes.
On your neck."
"And that," said Jeeves, rising from the settee on which in his role of Mrs. Spottsworth he had seated himself, "is cue for business, m'lord.