Read Ebook: Debits and credits by Kipling Rudyard

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Ebook has 1496 lines and 92414 words, and 30 pages

"Sound man, Henri," said Winchmore. "But," he eyed the waiter doubtfully, "I don't quite like.... What's your alleged nationality?"

"Oh! Sorry I spoke," said Winchmore.

"Monsieur is right. But my uncle is very careful, even with neutrals." He poured the champagne.

"Hold a minute," Maddingham cried. "First toast of obligation: For what we are going to receive, thank God and the British Navy."

"Amen!" said the others with a nod towards Lieutenant Tegg, of the Royal Navy afloat, and, occasionally, of the Admiralty ashore.

"Next! 'Damnation to all neutrals!'" Maddingham went on.

"Then there would have been no reason for the Burgundy," said Tegg with equal gravity.

"You're right," Maddingham replied.

"I left it all to Henri," said Portson.

"My Gord!" the eavesdropping woman whispered. "Get on to that! Ain't it typical? They leave everything to Henri in this country."

The other laughed. Maddingham's red face turned brick colour, and the veins on the cheekbones showed blue through a blurr of short bristles.

"He's been convoying neutrals--in a tactful manner," Tegg chuckled.

"My! My! My!" Winchmore chirruped soothingly. "It don't seem to have done you any good, Papa. Who were you conveyancing?"

Maddingham snapped out a ship's name and some details of her build.

"Yes," said Portson. "Did you board him, Winchmore?"

"I didn't complain. If he chose to hug things, 'twasn't any of my business. I'm not a Purity League. 'Didn't care what he hugged, so long as I could lie behind him and give him first chop at any mines that were going. I steered in his wake and let him stink up the whole of the North Sea. I thought he might come in useful for bait. No Burgundy, thanks, Nephew of my Uncle. I'm sticking to the Jolly Roger."

"Go on, then--before you're speechless. Was he any use as bait?" Tegg demanded.

"We never got a fair chance. As I told you, he hugged the coast till dark, and then he scraped round Gilarra Head and went up the bay nearly to the beach."

"'Lights out?" Maddingham asked.

Winchmore nodded. "But I didn't worry about that. I was under his stern. As luck 'ud have it, there was a fishing-party in the bay, and we walked slam into the middle of 'em--a most ungodly collection of local talent. 'First thing I knew a steam-launch fell aboard us, and a boy--a nasty little Navy boy, Tegg--wanted to know what I was doing. I told him, and he cursed me for putting the fish down just as they were rising. Then the two of us drifted on to a steam trawler and our friend the Neutral and a ten-oared cutter full of the military, all mixed up. They were subs from the garrison out for a lark. Uncle Newt explained over the rail about the weather and his engine-troubles, but they were all so keen to carry on with their fishing, they didn't fuss. They told him to clear off."

"Was there anything on the move round Gilarra at that time?" Tegg inquired.

"But what about the report that you sawed off the steam-launch's boat-hook?" Tegg demanded suddenly.

Winchmore refilled his glass.

"Well, don't get poetical," said Portson. "Let's have the rest of your trip."

"But Jarrott's a Quaker. 'Has been for generations. Why does he go to war?" said Maddingham.

"If it comes to that," Portson said, "why do any of us?"

"Disgustin'," said the actress audibly as she drew on her gloves. Winchmore looked at her with delight. "That's a peach-Melba, too," he said.

"And David Jarrott's a mine-sweeper," Maddingham mused aloud. "So you turned our Neutral over to him, Winchmore, did you?"

"Yes, I did. It was the end of my beat--I wish I didn't feel so sleepy--and I explained the whole situation to Jarrott, over the rail. 'Gave him all my silly instructions--those latest ones, y'know. I told him to do nothing to imperil existing political relations. I told him to exercise tact. I--I told him that in my capac'ty as Actin' Lootenant, you see. Jarrott's only a Lootenant-Commander--at fifty-four, too! Yes, I handed my Uncle Newt over to Jarrott to chaperone, and I went back to my--I can say it perfectly--pis-ca-to-rial party in the bay. Now I'm going to have a nap. In ten minutes I shall be on deck again. This is my first civilised dinner in nine weeks, so I don't apologise."

He pushed his plate away, dropped his chin on his palm and closed his eyes.

"Off the same old Irish corner I was watching last month. My young cousin was in her; so was one of the Raikes boys. A whole nest of mines, laid between patrols."

"I've heard there's some dirty work going on there now," Maddingham half whispered.

"What are you two talking about?" said Tegg, who seemed to be dozing, too.

"Yes, that was rather a pity. But.... What about this Newt of ours?"

"Every man to his taste," said Maddingham. "That never appealed to me. Had they detailed you specially to look after the Newt?"

"Me among others," Portson admitted. "I was going down Channel when I got my orders, and so I went on with him. Jarrott had been tremendously interested in his course up to date--specially off the Wash. He'd charted it very carefully and he said he was going back to find out what some of the kinks and curves meant. Has he found out, Tegg?"

"'Glad of that. Then I did what Winchmore did. I lay behind this stout fellow and saw him well into the open."

"Did you say anything to him?" Tegg asked.

"Not a thing. He kept moving all the time."

"'See anything?" Tegg continued.

"No. He didn't seem to be in demand anywhere in the Channel, and, when I got him on the edge of soundings I dropped him--as per your esteemed orders."

Tegg nodded again and murmured some apology.

Maddingham snorted.

"Well north and west of where you left him heading up the Irish Channel and stinking like a taxi. I hadn't had my breakfast. My cook was seasick; so were four of my hands."

"I can see that meeting. Did you give him a gun across the bows?" Tegg asked.

"He deposed that Maddingham came alongside swearing like a bargee," said Tegg.

"Not in the least. This is what happened." Maddingham turned to Portson. "I asked him where he was bound for and he told me--Antigua."

"Hi! Wake up, Winchmore. You're missing something." Portson nudged Winchmore, who was slanting sideways in his chair.

"Right! All right! I'm awake," said Winchmore stickily. "I heard every word."

"Hsh! Hsh!" said Portson and Tegg warningly.

"Why? It's the proper one. 'Who said to her spouse, "What a pig you are!"'"

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