SUMMER LIGHTNING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20303, 10 July 1929, Page 5

SUMMER LIGHTNING.

BY P. G. WODEHOUSE.

I CHAPTER XVll.—(Continued). There were times dining the drive when even tho sight of Voles' large, red ears all pricked up to learn the reason for this ! sudden and sensational return was I scarcely sufficient to restrain Lady Constance Keeblc from telling her brother • Clarence just what she thought ot him. ! from boyhood up, he had not come near | to being her ideal man; but never had I he sunk so low in her estimation as at ! the moment when she heard him giving ! his consent to the union of her niece Alil- | licent with a young man who, besides ! being penniless, had always afflicted her with a nervous complaint for which she could find no name, but which is known to scientists as the hecby-jecbies. Nor had he re-established himself in any way by his outspoken remarks on the subject of the efficient Baxter. Ho had said things about Baxter which no admirer of that energetic man could forgive. The adjectives mad, crazy, insane, biggering—and, worse, potty—had played iri and out of his conversation like flashes of lightning. And from the look in his eye she gathered that he was still saying them all over to himself. Her surmise was correct. To Lord Emswortli the events of this day had come as a stunning revelation. On the strength of that llower-pot incident two years ago, lie had always looked on Baxter as mentally unbalanced; but, being a fair-minded man, he had recognised the ! posihility (hat a quiet, regular life and i freedom from worries might, in the interval which had elapsed since his late ! secretary's departure from the castle, have effected a cure. Certainly the man had ; appeared quite normal on the day of his ; arrival. And now into the space of a i few hours he had crammed enough varie- ! gated lunacy to equip all the March hares , in England and leave some over for the | mad hatters. The ninth Earl of Emswortli was not a man who was easily disturbed. His was a calm which, as a rule, only his ; younger son Frederick could shatter. But • it was not proof against the sort of thing I that had been going 011 to-day. No I matter how placid you may be, if you find yourself in close juxtaposition with I a man who, when he is not hurling himi self out of windows, is stealing pigs and | trying to make you believe they were j stolen by your butler, you begin to think j a bit. Lord Emswortli was thoroughly i upset. As the car bowled up the drive I he was saving to himself that nothing j could surprise him now. And yet something did. As the ear | turned the corner by the rhododendrons | and wheeled into the broad strip of gravel 1 that, faced the front door, he beheld a i sight which brought the first sound he I had uttered since the journey began i bursting from his lips. | " Good God ! " The words were spoken in a high ! penetrating tenor, and they made Lady Constance jump as if they had been pins I running into her. This unexpected break- ! ing of the great silence was agony to ; her taut nerves. " What is the matter? " " MatterH Look! Look at that fcl- ' low! " ] Voules took it upon himself to explain. ! Never having met Lady Constance sociI ally, as it were, he ought perhaps not jto have spoken. He considered, howj ever, that the importance of the occa--1 sion jutified the solecism. ! " A man is climbing the waterspout, : m'lady." " What! Where? f don't sec him." " He has just got into the balcony outi side one of the bedrooms," said the Hon. i Galahad. Lord Emswortli went straight to the heart of (lie matter—j "It's that fellow, Baxter!" he exclaimed. The summer day, for all the artificial I aid lent by daylight saving; was now definitely over, and gathering night had 1 spread its mafatle of dusk over the world. ■ The visibility, therefore, was not good, 1 and the, figure which had just vanished : over the parapet, of the balcony of the I Gurden Room had been unrecognisable ! except to the eye of intuition. This, ; however, was precisely the sort of eye I that Lord Emswortli possessed. He reasoned closely. There were, he ; knew, 011 the premises of Blandings Castle 1 other male adults besides Rupert Baxter; ■ but none of these would climb up water--1 spouts and disappear over balconies. To •Baxter, on the other hand, such a pur- | suit would seem the normal, ordinary | way of passing an evening. It would j be his idea of wholesome relaxation. Soon, I 110 doubt, he would come out to the balj cony again and throw himself to the I ground. That was the sort of fellow Baxj ter was—a man of strange pleasures. | And so, going, as we say, straight to I the heart of the matter. Lord Emswortli 1 perking the pinc-nez off his face in his emotion, exclaimed: " It's that fellow Baxter! '' Not since a certain day in their mutual nursery many years ago had Lady Coilstance gone to the length of actually hauling off and smiting her elder brother 011 the head with the flat of an outraged hand; but she came very near to doing it now. Perhaps it was the presence of Voules that caused her to confine herself to words. " Clarence, you're an idiot! " Even Voules could not prevent her saying that. After all, she was revealing 110 secrets. The chauffeur had been in service at the castle quite long enough to have formed the same impression for himself. Lord Emswortli did not argue the point. The car had drawn up now outside the front door. The front door was open, j as always of a summer evening, and the ! ninth Earl, accompanied by his brother j Galahad, hurried up the steps and entered ' the hall. And, as they did so, there

j came In (lieir cars (he sound of running ! foot. The next moment Iho Hying figure | of l'erey Pilbcnm came into view, taking I the stairs four at a time. I " Cod bless my soul! " said Lord Emsworth. ' If Pilhcain heard the words or paw the i speaker, lie gave no sign of having done ! so. Ho was plainly in a hurry. Ho i shot through the hall and, more like a startled gazelle than a private enquiry i agent. down the steps. His 1 shirt-front was dark with dirt-stains, his collar had burst from its stud, and it seemed to Lord Emsworth, in the brief moment during which he was able io focus him, that he had a black eye. 'Die next instant (hero descended this stairs and flitted past with equal speed the form I of Ronnie. Fish. ■ Lord Emsworth got an entirely wrong I conception of Iho affair. lie had no I means of knowing what had taken place in the Garden Room when Pilbeant, inI spired by alcohol and (lushed with the | thought that now was the fimo to get I into that apartment and possess himself | of the manuscript of tfie Hon. Galahad's • reminiscences, had climbed the waterspout to put the plan into operation. He j knew nothing of the detective's sharp | dismay at finding himself unexpectedly ' confronted with the menacing form of j Bonnie Fish. lie was ignorant of (he I lively and promising mix-up which had I been concluded bv Pilhcum's tempestuous | (lash for life. All he saw was two men i fleeing madly for the open spaces, and j he placed the obvious interpretation upon I this phenomenon. j liaxter, In; assumed, had run amok and had done il with such uncompromising thoroughness that strong men ran panicstricken before him. Mild (hough (he ninth carl was by nature, a lover of rural peace, and (lie quiet life, lie had, like all Britain's aristocracy, the right, stuff in him. It so chanced that during the years when he had held his commission in the Shropshire Yeomanry (he motherland had not called on him to save her. But, had

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Hint call been made, Clarence, ninth Earl of Emswortli, would have answered it with as prompt a " Bless my soul! Of course. Certainly!" as any of his Crusader ancestors. And in iiis sixtieth year the ancient fire still lingered. The Hon. Galahad, who had returned to watch the procession through the front floor with a surprised monocle, turned back and found that lie was alone. Lord Emsworth had disappeared. fie now beheld him coining back again. On his amiable face was the. look of determination. In his hand was a gun. " Eli? What':" said the Hon. Galahad,

blinking. The head of the family did not reply. He was moving toward-the stairs. in just that same silent, purposeful way had an Emswortli advanced on the foe at Agincourt. A sound ns of disturbed hens made the lion. Galahad turn again. "Galahad! "What is all this? What is happening ? " The Hon. Galahad placed his sister in possession of the facts as known to himself. " Clarence has just gone upstairs with a gun." " Wil.li a gun '{ " " Ve.s. Looked like mine, too. I hope he takes caro of it " He perceived that Lady Constance had also been seized with the urge to climb. She was making excellent time up flic broad staircase. .So nimbly did she move that she was on the second landing before lie came up with her. And, as they stood there, a voice made, itself heard from a room down the corridor. " Baxter! Conic out! Come out, Baxter, my dear fellow, immediately." In Ihe race for the room from which the words had appeared to proceed Lady Constance, getting off to a good start, beat her brother bv a matter of two lengths Shu was the first to see a sighL unusual even at Blandings Castle, though strange things had happened there from time to time. Her young guest, Miss School) maker, was standing by the window, looking excited and alarmed. Her brother Clarence, pointing a gun expertly from the hip, was staring fixedly at the bed and from under the bed. a little like a tortoise protruding from its shell, then* was coming into view the spectacled head of the eflicicnt Baxter.

CHAPTER XVIII. A :iuin who lias been lying under ;i bed for ;i matter of some 30 minutes, and, while there, has been compelled to listen to the sort, of dialogue which accompanies lovers' reconciliation, seldom •'appears at his best or feels his brightest. There was fluff in Baxter's hair, dust on liis clothes, and on Baxter's face a scowl of concentrated hatred of all human ly. Lord Emsworth prepared for something pretty wild-looking, found his expectations exceeded. He tightened his grasp on the gun, and to ensure a more accurate aim, raised the butt of it to his shoulder, closing one eye and allowing the other to gleam along the barrel. . " I have you covered, my dear fellow," he said mildly. Rupert Baxter had not yet began lo stick straws in his hair, but lie seemed on the verge of that final piece of selfexpression. " Don't point that, damned thing at me!" " 1 shall point it at. you." replied Lord Emsworth with spirit. Ho was not a man to be dictated to in his own house. " And at the slightest sign of violence "Clarence!" It was Lady Constance who spoke. " Put that gun down." " Certainly not." " Clarence!" " Oh, all right." " And now, Mr. Baxter,"' said Ladv Constance, proceeding to dominate the scene in her masterly way. "I am sure you can explain." Her agitation had passed. It was not in this strong woman to remain agitated long. She had been badly shaken, blither faith in her idol still held good. Bemarkablc as his behaviour might appear, she was sure, that he could account for it in a perfectly satisfactory manner. Baxter did not speak. His silence gave Lord Emsworth the opportunity of advancing his own views. " Explain ?" he spoke petulantly, for he resented the way in which his sister had thrust him from the centre of the stage. " What on earth is there to explain ? The thing's obvious." " Can't say I've quite got (he bottom of it." murmured the Hon. Galahad. "Fellow under bed. Why? Why under bed? Why here at all?" Lord Emsworth hesitated. He was a. kind-hearted man, and he felt that what he had to say would ba better said in Baxter's absence. However, there seemed no way out of it, so he proceeded. " Mv dear Galahad, think." " Eli !*' " That flower-pot affair. You remember?" "Oh!" Understanding shone in the Hon. Galahad's monocle. " You mean i<< " Exactly." " Yes, yes.* Of course. Subject to these attacks, you mean ?" " Precisely." This was not the first time Lady Constance Kee'ple had had the opportunity of hearing a theory .ventilated by her brothers which she found detestable. Shu flushed brightly. " Clarence!" " My dear?" " Kindly stop talking in that offensive way." " God bless rnv soul!" Lord Emsworth was stung. " I like that. What have 1 said that is offensive?" " You know perfectly well." " If you mean that I was reminding Galahad in the most delicate way that poor Baxter here is not quite ..." " Clarence!" All very well to say 'Clarence!' like that. You know yourself he isn't, right in the head. Didn't he throw flowerpots at me? Didn't- be leap out-of the window this very afternoon ? Didn't, ho try to make me think that Beach. ." Baxter interrupted. There were certain matters on which he considered silence best, but this was one on which ho could speak freely. " Lord Emsworth!' " Eh !" "It, has come to my knowledge that Beach was not the prime mover in the theft of your pig. But I have ascertained that he was an accessory." " A what ?" " He helped." said Baxter, grinding his teeth a Ifttle. ''The. man who committed the actual theft was your nephew, ljonalcl." Lord Emsworth turned to his sister with a triumphant gesture, like one who has been vindicated. "There! Now perhaps you'll say he's not potty? It won't do. Baxter, my dear fellow." iie went on, waggling a reproachful gun at his late employee. " Ymi really mustn't excite yourself by making up these stories." " Bad for (lit! blood-pressure," agreed the, lion. Galahad. " The Empress was found this evening in vonr caravan," said Lord Emsworth. "'What!" "In your caravan. \\ here -you put her when you stole her. And, bless my soul, said Lord Emsworth, with a start, " I must be going and seeing that she it put back in her stye. I must, lind Tirbriglit. 1 must. . . ." "In my caravan ?" Baxter passed a feverish hand across his dust-stained forehead. Illumination came to mm.. " Then that's what that fellow Carmody did with the animal!" (To be continued daily.)