Pelham Wodehouse - The Return of Jeeves

"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.

Your lordship will admit that it is really quite simple."

"I suppose it is."

"I am sure that after this try-out the performing fleas to which your lordship alluded a moment ago will have substantially modified their activities."

"They've slowed up a bit, yes. But I'm still nervous."

"Inevitable on the eve of an opening performance, m'lord. I think your lordship should be starting as soon as possible. If 'twere done, then 'twere well 'twere done quickly. Our arrangements have been made with a view to a garden set, and it would be disconcerting were Mrs. Spottsworth to return to the house, compelling your lordship to adapt your technique to an interior."

Bill nodded.

"I see what you mean. Right ho, Jeeves.

Good-bye."

"Good-bye, m'lord."

"If anything goes wrong—"

"Nothing will go wrong, m'lord."

"But if it does ... You'll write to me in Dartmoor occasionally, Jeeves? Just a chatty letter from time to time, giving me the latest news from the outer world?"

"Certainly, m'lord."

"It'll cheer me up as I crack my daily rock. They tell me conditions are much better in these modern prisons than they used to be in the old days."

"So I understand, m'lord."

"I might find Dartmoor a regular home from home. Solid comfort, I mean to say."

"Quite conceivably, m'lord."

"Still, we'll hope it won't come to that."

"Yes, m'lord."

"Yes ... Well, good-bye once again, Jeeves."

"Good-bye, m'lord."

Bill squared his shoulders and strode out, a gallant figure. He had summoned the pride of the Rowcesters to his aid, and it buoyed him up. With just this quiet courage had a Rowcester of the seventeenth century mounted the scaffold at Tower Hill, nodding affably to the headsman and waving to friends and relations in the audience. When the test comes, blood will tell.

He had been gone a few moments, when Jill came in.

It seemed to Jeeves that in the course of the past few hours the young master's betrothed had lost a good deal of the animation which rendered her as a rule so attractive, and he was right. Her recent interview with Captain Biggar had left Jill pensive and inclined to lower the corners of the mouth and stare mournfully. She was staring mournfully now.

"Have you seen Lord Rowcester, Jeeves?"

"His lordship has just stepped into the garden, miss."

"Where are the others?"

"Sir Roderick and her ladyship are still in the library, miss."

"And Mrs. Spottsworth?"

"She stepped into the garden shortly before his lordship."

Jill stiffened.

"Oh?" she said, and went into the library to join Monica and Rory. The corners of her mouth were drooping more than ever, and her stare had increased in mournfulness some twenty per cent. She looked like a girl who is thinking the worst, and that was precisely the sort of girl she was.