Hilary Pierce grinned and made a gesture over his shoulder to the litter of porcine parachutes, to indicate his last and crowning folly.
“The truth is,� he said laughing, “that was only a final firework display to celebrate victory or failure, whichever you choose to call it. There isn’t any need to do any more, because the veto is removed.�
“Removed?� exclaimed Hood. “Why on earth is that? It’s rather unnerving when lunatics suddenly go sane like that.�
“It wasn’t anything to do with the lunatics,� answered Pierce quietly. “The real change was much higher up, or rather lower down. Anyhow, it was much farther at the back of things, where the Big Businesses are settled by the big people.�
“What was the change?� asked the Colonel.
“Old Oates has gone into another business,� answered Pierce quietly.
“What on earth has old Oates to do with it?� asked Hood staring. “Do you mean that Yankee mooning about over mediæval ruins?�
“Oh, I know,� said Pierce wearily, “I thought he had nothing to do with it; I thought it was the Jews and vegetarians, and the rest; but they’re very innocent instruments. The truth is that Enoch Oates is the biggest pork-packer and importer in the world, and he didn’t want any competition from our cottagers. And what he says goes, as he would express it. Now, thank God, he’s taken up another line.�
But if any indomitable reader wishes to know what was the new line Mr. Oates pursued and why, it is to be feared that his only course is to await and read patiently the story of the Exclusive Luxury of Enoch Oates; and even before reaching that supreme test, he will have to support the recital of The Elusive Companion of Parson White; for these, as has been said, are tales of topsy-turvydom, and they often work backwards.