Read Online Ways and Means by Henry Cecil - Free Book Online
Authors: Henry Cecil
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
mission had failed. The General and the Vicar did not recognize the use of The Mikado, but they did realize that the battle was lost.
‘Now, about your execution,’ continued Basil. ‘Will £15,000 suit you?’ There was no answer. ‘Come, gentlemen, don’t I hear £15,000?’ He turned to the General. ‘What about you, sir? It’s a good case, no flaws in it, guaranteed impregnable against any attack — what do I hear then? Won’t someone start the bidding?’ Still no sound.
‘I should have mentioned that there’s a reserve.’
‘How much?’ said the General.
‘£10,000.’
The General looked at the others. ‘We’ll pay,’ he said.
A week later all twenty-two actions were settled and Basil was paid £10,000, less the £165 he had borrowed at the meeting. He graciously agreed to give credit for that sum. Nicholas insisted on paying to the Vicar the amount of the latter’s contribution. ‘I feel in a way responsible,’ he had said. Everyone thought it was a fine gesture on his part, but this in no way mollified the feelings of his uncle’s victims towards Basil, nor did the fact that he agreed to forgo a public apology on the ground that it would only give more publicity to the slanders, nor did the sale of his house and his early departure from the neighbourhood. He had played with the deputation unmercifully, and, as Mr Twigg had agreed, £10,000 is a lot of money.
The anger of the defendants remained intense for some time, but it was nothing to what it would have been if they had happened to look inside the first-class Pullman car of a train leaving London some weeks later. Basil was in it and, if they had followed him on his way there, they would have been puzzled at his behaviour, so different from his manners at Tapworth Magna. He apologized to a man who had carelessly bumped into him, he helped an old lady with her luggage, and he gave five shillings to the porter who carried his. But it was not only Basil they would have seen in the restaurant car. Opposite him was Nicholas.
‘We shan’t be able to do that again, old boy,’ he was saying. ‘However far away we went, there might be someone who had a friend at Tapworth or who somehow had heard of us. Much too risky.’
‘I quite agree, old man,’ said Basil. ‘But I’ve been thinking things over the last two or three days, and what d’you say to this?’
He then started to unfold to Nicholas another plan for making money without giving anything appreciable in return. After he had listened for some time, Nicholas interrupted: ‘But we can’t do that.’
‘Why not, old man?’ asked Basil, surprised.
‘Illegal, old boy,’ said Nicholas.
Chapter 2
OPERATION ENTICEMENT
====
A SURE Sign of poverty among the sometimes well-to-do is the half-bottle of gin, and that is all that Basil’s wife, Elizabeth, could find in the cupboard. There was not very much in it. Now supposing, she said to herself; I have a small one now — just a very small one — will there be enough when Basil comes home with Nicholas and Petula? Even on the most conservative estimate of their requirements, it was obvious that there would not. ‘Requirements’, by the way, is the right word. Basil was, of course, entitled to ‘require’ in his own home while Nicholas and his wife, Petula, who had the flat next door, lived on what was almost a communal basis with Basil and Elizabeth. They shared pretty well everything together, money, food, clothes, ideas, happiness, disappointments, and, at the moment, poverty. Elizabeth sighed and helped herself, and, as a small one would leave too little in any event, she took a large one. They will understand, she said to herself; they will have to. She was a lovely creature and could obtain almost anything from anyone who did not know her well and from some who did. She combined the languorous beauty of a South American film star with an almost perpetually puzzled look. ‘It is all so difficult,’ she seemed to say.
‘Now, about your execution,’ continued Basil. ‘Will £15,000 suit you?’ There was no answer. ‘Come, gentlemen, don’t I hear £15,000?’ He turned to the General. ‘What about you, sir? It’s a good case, no flaws in it, guaranteed impregnable against any attack — what do I hear then? Won’t someone start the bidding?’ Still no sound.
‘I should have mentioned that there’s a reserve.’
‘How much?’ said the General.
‘£10,000.’
The General looked at the others. ‘We’ll pay,’ he said.
A week later all twenty-two actions were settled and Basil was paid £10,000, less the £165 he had borrowed at the meeting. He graciously agreed to give credit for that sum. Nicholas insisted on paying to the Vicar the amount of the latter’s contribution. ‘I feel in a way responsible,’ he had said. Everyone thought it was a fine gesture on his part, but this in no way mollified the feelings of his uncle’s victims towards Basil, nor did the fact that he agreed to forgo a public apology on the ground that it would only give more publicity to the slanders, nor did the sale of his house and his early departure from the neighbourhood. He had played with the deputation unmercifully, and, as Mr Twigg had agreed, £10,000 is a lot of money.
The anger of the defendants remained intense for some time, but it was nothing to what it would have been if they had happened to look inside the first-class Pullman car of a train leaving London some weeks later. Basil was in it and, if they had followed him on his way there, they would have been puzzled at his behaviour, so different from his manners at Tapworth Magna. He apologized to a man who had carelessly bumped into him, he helped an old lady with her luggage, and he gave five shillings to the porter who carried his. But it was not only Basil they would have seen in the restaurant car. Opposite him was Nicholas.
‘We shan’t be able to do that again, old boy,’ he was saying. ‘However far away we went, there might be someone who had a friend at Tapworth or who somehow had heard of us. Much too risky.’
‘I quite agree, old man,’ said Basil. ‘But I’ve been thinking things over the last two or three days, and what d’you say to this?’
He then started to unfold to Nicholas another plan for making money without giving anything appreciable in return. After he had listened for some time, Nicholas interrupted: ‘But we can’t do that.’
‘Why not, old man?’ asked Basil, surprised.
‘Illegal, old boy,’ said Nicholas.
Chapter 2
OPERATION ENTICEMENT
====
A SURE Sign of poverty among the sometimes well-to-do is the half-bottle of gin, and that is all that Basil’s wife, Elizabeth, could find in the cupboard. There was not very much in it. Now supposing, she said to herself; I have a small one now — just a very small one — will there be enough when Basil comes home with Nicholas and Petula? Even on the most conservative estimate of their requirements, it was obvious that there would not. ‘Requirements’, by the way, is the right word. Basil was, of course, entitled to ‘require’ in his own home while Nicholas and his wife, Petula, who had the flat next door, lived on what was almost a communal basis with Basil and Elizabeth. They shared pretty well everything together, money, food, clothes, ideas, happiness, disappointments, and, at the moment, poverty. Elizabeth sighed and helped herself, and, as a small one would leave too little in any event, she took a large one. They will understand, she said to herself; they will have to. She was a lovely creature and could obtain almost anything from anyone who did not know her well and from some who did. She combined the languorous beauty of a South American film star with an almost perpetually puzzled look. ‘It is all so difficult,’ she seemed to say.
Similar Books
