Uneasy Money, P. G. Wodehouse [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗

would count sixty this time. A cold fear had laid its clammy fingers on his heart. This was what that doctor⁠—not such a chump after all⁠—must have meant!

Nutty began to count. There seemed to be a heavy lump inside him and his mouth was dry; but otherwise he felt all right. That was the gruesome part of it⁠—this dreadful thing had come upon him at a moment when he could have sworn that he was as sound as a bell. If this had happened in the days when he ranged the Great White Way, sucking up deleterious moisture like a cloud, it would have been intelligible. But it had sneaked upon him like a thief in the night; it had stolen unheralded into his life when he had practically reformed. What was the good of practically reforming if this sort of thing was going to happen to one?

“… Fifty-nine⁠ ⁠… sixty.”

He opened his eyes. The monkey was still there, in precisely the same attitude, as if it was sitting for its portrait. Panic surged upon Nutty. He lost his head completely. He uttered a wild yell and threw the bottle at the apparition.

Life had not been treating Eustace well that evening. He seemed to have happened upon one of those days when everything goes wrong. The cat had scratched him, the odd-job man had swathed him in an apron, and now this stranger, in whom he had found at first a pleasant restfulness, soothing after the recent scenes of violence in which he had participated, did this to him. He dodged the missile and clambered on the top of the wardrobe. It was his instinct in times of stress to seek the high spots. And then Elizabeth hurried into the room.

Elizabeth had been lying in the hammock on the porch when her brother’s yell had broken forth. It was a lovely, calm, moonlight night, and she had been reveling in the peace of it, when suddenly this outcry from above had shot her out of her hammock like an explosion. She ran upstairs, fearing she knew not what. She found Nutty sitting on the bed, looking like an overwrought giraffe.

“Whatever is the⁠—” she began; and then things began to impress themselves on her senses.

The bottle which Nutty had thrown at Eustace had missed the latter, but it had hit the wall and was now lying in many pieces on the floor, and the air was heavy with the scent of it. The remains seemed to leer at her with a kind of furtive swagger, after the manner of broken bottles. A quick thrill of anger ran through Elizabeth. She had always felt more like a mother to Nutty than a sister, and now she would have liked to exercise the maternal privilege of slapping him.

“Nutty!”

“I saw a monkey!” said her brother hollowly. “I was standing over there and I saw a monkey! Of course it wasn’t there really. I flung the bottle at it, and it seemed to climb into that wardrobe.”

“This wardrobe?”

“Yes.”

Elizabeth struck it a resounding blow with the palm of her hand, and Eustace’s face popped over the edge, peering down anxiously. “I can see it now,” said Nutty. A sudden faint hope came to him. “Can you see it?” he asked.

Elizabeth did not speak for a moment. This was an unusual situation, and she was wondering how to treat it. She was sorry for Nutty, but Providence had sent this thing and it would be foolish to reject it. She must look on herself in the light of a doctor. It would be kinder to Nutty in the end. She had the feminine aversion to the lie deliberate. Her ethics on the suggestio falsi were weak. She looked at Nutty questioningly.

“See it?” she said.

“Don’t you see a monkey on the top of the wardrobe?” said Nutty, becoming more definite.

“There’s a sort of bit of wood sticking out⁠—”

Nutty sighed.

“No, not that. You don’t see it. I didn’t think you would.”

He spoke so dejectedly that for a moment Elizabeth weakened, but only for an instant.

“Tell me all about this, Nutty,” she said.

Nutty was beyond the desire for evasion and concealment. His one wish was to tell. He told all.

“But, Nutty, how silly of you!”

“Yes.”

“After what the doctor said.”

“I know.”

“You remember his telling you⁠—”

“I know. Never again!”

“What do you mean?”

“I quit. I’m going on the wagon.”

Elizabeth embraced him maternally.

“That’s a good child,” she said. “You really promise?”

“I don’t have to promise, I’m just going to do it.”

Elizabeth compromised with her conscience by becoming soothing.

“You know, this isn’t so very serious, Nutty, darling. I mean it’s just a warning.”

“It’s warned me all right.”

“You will be perfectly all right if⁠—”

Nutty interrupted her.

“You’re sure you can’t see anything?”

“See what?”

Nutty’s voice became almost apologetic.

“I know it’s just imagination, but the monkey seems to me to be climbing down from the wardrobe.”

“I can’t see anything climbing down the wardrobe,” said Elizabeth, as Eustace touched the floor.

“It’s come down now. It’s crossing the carpet.”

“Where?”

“It’s gone now. It went out of the door.”

“Oh!”

“I say, Elizabeth, what do you think I ought to do?”

“I should go to bed and have a nice long sleep, and you’ll feel⁠—”

“Somehow I don’t feel much like going to bed. This sort of thing upsets a chap, you know!”

“Poor dear!”

“I think I’ll go for a long walk.”

“That’s a splendid idea.”

“I think I’d better do a good lot of walking from now on. Didn’t Chalmers bring down some Indian clubs with him? I think I’ll borrow them. I ought to keep out in the open a lot, I think. I wonder if there’s any special diet I ought to have. Well, anyway, I’ll be going for that walk.”

At the foot of the stairs Nutty stopped. He looked quickly into the porch, then looked away again.

“What’s the matter?” asked Elizabeth.

“I thought for a moment I saw the monkey sitting on the hammock.”

He went out of the house and disappeared from view down the drive, walking with long, rapid strides.

Elizabeth’s first act, when he had gone, was to