2
It was a large luncheon party, for Gallows was full of guests. Everybody was very merry and bright, except Luke. Tyburn was specially elated, for his little drive with the zebras had only cost thirteen hundred altogether. There had apparently been a terrific rag the night before. While the guests were at dinner, Tyburn arranged for a number of wild beasts to be brought up from the Mammoth Circus. One was put into the bedroom of each guest to greet him or her on going to bed. No, there had been no real damage done. One of the lions had fainted. It had been given sal volatile, and had recovered. Only three of the animals and two of the guests were missing. And one of the guests was a Bishop who had never been really wanted. Jona told the whole story hilariously.
Why was it, Luke asked himself, that she was always so merry and bright with others, and so very different when she was with him? Could it be that she wore a mask to the rest of the world, and disclosed her real self only to him? It could. It could also be just the other way round. That was the annoying part of it.
He was depressed during lunch. The story of Tyburn’s practical joke of the previous evening had upset him. He did not like these practical jokes. He was nervous. He felt that at any moment, at a preconcerted signal, the table might blow up, or the ceiling fall down. Everybody else would laugh, and he would hate it. He seldom laughed at anything anybody else laughed at, though he enjoyed some little jokes of his own that nobody else seemed to appreciate. Especially Mabel. She seemed to be enjoying herself at the other side of the table, laughing at the stories that Major Capstan was telling her. From the Major’s expression, Luke diagnosed that the stories were not quite—well, not exactly—oh, you know. Would it be Doom Dagshaw or Major Capstan? Oh, what was he thinking of?
Why had he not been put next to Jona? Why did the girl on his right, whom he had never met before, persist in addressing him as Funnyface? Why is a mouse when it spins? The world was full of conundrums.
In the garden after lunch, Jona came straight up to him.
“We are going to play games,” she said.
“What games?”
“Well, this morning we played leap-frog down the stairs. That was a little idea of Bill’s.”
Luke had noticed at lunch that two of the guests wore sticking-plaster on their noses. This explained it.
“I don’t think I should like playing leap-frog,” he said. “I sometimes play at boats with Dot.”
“We’ll play at hide-and-seek,” said Jona. “You and I will hide together. Come along.”
They hid in the cool dusk of the tool-shed. Jona sat on the wheelbarrow and talked, and talked, and talked.
At the end of half-an-hour, Luke had failed to ask her what she had meant by certain things on the day that she had called at his office. He made rather a specialty of not being able to say anything that he particularly wanted to say.
He said: “It’s funny they’ve not found us yet.”
“Not so very funny,” said Jona. “You see, I forgot to tell any of them that we were going to play this game. Here’s one of the gardeners coming. Damn. I suppose we’d better join the rest of the crowd.”
It was not until Mabel and Luke were leaving that Luke got a chance of another word with Jona.
“We’re leaving for town to-morrow,” said Jona. “You’ll write and tell me everything that’s in your old head, won’t you?”
Luke felt that he ought not to write. Mabel would not like it. It would be wrong.
“Thanks,” he said, “we so seldom have any postage stamps in the house. And I’ve lost my Onoto pen, and I sprained my wrist falling off my bicycle.”
“Oh, do write, Lukie dear.” She held out her hand to him.
“Good-by,” he said, and ran down the steps. At the bottom of the steps stood the cab, an interesting antique, which was to convey Mabel home. Mabel and Major Capstan were waiting near the door.
“You only took about twenty minutes saying good-by to Lady Tyburn,” said Mabel. “I’m giving Major Capstan a lift. If you think it’s fair on the horse to ask it to draw the three of us, get in, of course. Otherwise, it’s beautiful weather for a nice walk.”
“I will walk,” said Luke. “I prefer it.” He wished to be alone.
He sat down on the first milestone in the road, and meditated with his head in his hands.
Mabel. His wife. He was very good to her. He had been perfectly faithful to her. And was it worth while? What did she think about him? How much did she care for him? There were two men after her. He seemed to visualize the situation as a scrap from the stop-press of a newspaper.
1. MABEL. 2. DOOM. 3. CAPSTAN. Also ran. Luke Sharper, Esq.