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The Essential Works of P. G. Wodehouse. P. G. WodehouseЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Essential Works of P. G. Wodehouse - P. G. Wodehouse


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of cricket flannels surmounted by a huge, expansive grin.; As the distance between them lessened, he discovered that inside the flannels was Neville-Smith’s body and behind the grin the rest of Neville-Smith’s face.; Their visit to the nets not having coincided in point of time, as the Greek exercise books say, Wyatt had not seen his friend since the list of the team had been posted on the board, so he proceeded to congratulate him on his colours.

      “Thanks,” said Neville-Smith, with a brilliant display of front teeth.

      “Feeling good?”

      “Not the word for it.; I feel like—­I don’t know what.”

      “I’ll tell you what you look like, if that’s any good to you.; That slight smile of yours will meet behind, if you don’t look out, and then the top of your head’ll come off.”

      “I don’t care.; I’ve got my first, whatever happens.; Little Willie’s going to buy a nice new cap and a pretty striped jacket all for his own self!; I say, thanks for reminding me.; Not that you did, but supposing you had.; At any rate, I remember what it was I wanted to say to you.; You know what I was saying to you about the bust I meant to have at home in honour of my getting my first, if I did, which I have—­well, anyhow it’s to-night.; You can roll up, can’t you?”

      “Delighted.; Anything for a free feed in these hard times.; What time did you say it was?”

      “Eleven.; Make it a bit earlier, if you like.”

      “No, eleven’ll do me all right.”

      “How are you going to get out?”

      “‘Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.’; That’s what the man said who wrote the libretto for the last set of Latin Verses we had to do.; I shall manage it.”

      “They ought to allow you a latch-key.”

      “Yes, I’ve often thought of asking my pater for one.; Still, I get on very well.; Who are coming besides me?”

      “No boarders.; They all funked it.”

      “The race is degenerating.”

      “Said it wasn’t good enough.”

      “The school is going to the dogs.; Who did you ask?”

      “Clowes was one.; Said he didn’t want to miss his beauty-sleep.; And Henfrey backed out because he thought the risk of being sacked wasn’t good enough.”

      “That’s an aspect of the thing that might occur to some people.; I don’t blame him—­I might feel like that myself if I’d got another couple of years at school.”

      “But one or two day-boys are coming.; Clephane is, for one.; And Beverley.; We shall have rather a rag.; I’m going to get the things now.”

      “When I get to your place—­I don’t believe I know the way, now I come to think of it—­what do I do?; Ring the bell and send in my card? or smash the nearest window and climb in?”

      “Don’t make too much row, for goodness sake.; All the servants’ll have gone to bed.; You’ll see the window of my room.; It’s just above the porch.; It’ll be the only one lighted up.; Heave a pebble at it, and I’ll come down.”

      “So will the glass—­with a run, I expect.; Still, I’ll try to do as little damage as possible.; After all, I needn’t throw a brick.”

      “You will turn up, won’t you?”

      “Nothing shall stop me.”

      “Good man.”

      As Wyatt was turning away, a sudden compunction seized upon Neville-Smith.; He called him back.

      “I say, you don’t think it’s too risky, do you?; I mean, you always are breaking out at night, aren’t you?; I don’t want to get you into a row.”

      “Oh, that’s all right,” said Wyatt.; “Don’t you worry about me.; I should have gone out anyhow to-night.”

      CHAPTER XXIII

      A SURPRISE FOR MR. APPLEBY

       Table of Contents

      “You may not know it,” said Wyatt to Mike in the dormitory that night, “but this is the maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year.”

      Mike could not help thinking that for himself it was the very reverse, but he did not state his view of the case.

      “What’s up?” he asked.

      “Neville-Smith’s giving a meal at his place in honour of his getting his first.; I understand the preparations are on a scale of the utmost magnificence.; No expense has been spared.; Ginger-beer will flow like water.; The oldest cask of lemonade has been broached; and a sardine is roasting whole in the market-place.”

      “Are you going?”

      “If I can tear myself away from your delightful society.; The kick-off is fixed for eleven sharp.; I am to stand underneath his window and heave bricks till something happens.; I don’t know if he keeps a dog.; If so, I shall probably get bitten to the bone.”

      “When are you going to start?”

      “About five minutes after Wain has been round the dormitories to see that all’s well.; That ought to be somewhere about half-past ten.”

      “Don’t go getting caught.”

      “I shall do my little best not to be.; Rather tricky work, though, getting back.; I’ve got to climb two garden walls, and I shall probably be so full of Malvoisie that you’ll be able to hear it swishing about inside me.; No catch steeple-chasing if you’re like that.; They’ve no thought for people’s convenience here.; Now at Bradford they’ve got studies on the ground floor, the windows looking out over the boundless prairie.; No climbing or steeple-chasing needed at all.; All you have to do is to open the window and step out.; Still, we must make the best of things.; Push us over a pinch of that tooth-powder of yours.; I’ve used all mine.”

      Wyatt very seldom penetrated further than his own garden on the occasions when he roamed abroad at night.; For cat-shooting the Wain spinneys were unsurpassed.; There was one particular dustbin where one might be certain of flushing a covey any night; and the wall by the potting-shed was a feline club-house.

      But when he did wish to get out into the open country he had a special route which he always took.; He climbed down from the wall that ran beneath the dormitory window into the garden belonging to Mr. Appleby, the master who had the house next to Mr. Wain’s.; Crossing this, he climbed another wall, and dropped from it into a small lane which ended in the main road leading to Wrykyn town.

      This was the route which he took to-night.; It was a glorious July night, and the scent of the flowers came to him with a curious distinctness as he let himself down from the dormitory window.; At any other time he might have made a lengthy halt, and enjoyed the scents and small summer noises, but now he felt that it would be better not to delay.; There was a full moon, and where he stood he could be seen distinctly from the windows of both houses.; They were all dark, it is true, but on these occasions it was best to take no risks.

      He dropped cautiously into Appleby’s garden, ran lightly across it, and was in the lane within a minute.

      There he paused, dusted his trousers, which had suffered on the two walls, and strolled meditatively in the direction of the town.; Half-past ten had just chimed from the school clock.; He was in plenty of time.

      “What a night!” he said to himself, sniffing as he walked.

      * * * * *

      Now it happened that he was not alone in admiring the beauty of that particular night.; At ten-fifteen it had struck Mr. Appleby, looking out of his study into the moonlit school grounds, that a pipe in the


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