Part 47 (1/2)
”'Undreds,” said Pyecroft. ”So've I. How many of 'em can you remember in your own mind, settin' aside the first--an' per'aps the last--_and one more_?”
”Few, wonderful few, now I tax myself,” said Sergeant Pritchard, relievedly.
”An' how many times might you 'ave been at Aukland?”
”One--two,” he began. ”Why, I can't make it more than three times in ten years. But I can remember every time that I ever saw Mrs. B.”
”So can I--an' I've only been to Auckland twice--how she stood an' what she was sayin' an' what she looked like. That's the secret. 'Tisn't beauty, so to speak, nor good talk necessarily. It's just It. Some women'll stay in a man's memory if they once walked down a street, but most of 'em you can live with a month on end, an' next commission you'd be put to it to certify whether they talked in their sleep or not, as one might say.”
”Ah,” said Hooper. ”That's more the idea. I've known just two women of that nature.”
”An' it was no fault o' theirs?” asked Pritchard.
”None whatever. I know that!”
”An' if a man gets struck with that kind o' woman, Mr. Hooper?” Pritchard went on.
”He goes crazy--or just saves himself,” was the slow answer.
”You've hit it,” said the Sergeant. ”You've seen an' known somethin' in the course o' your life, Mr. Hooper. I'm lookin' at you!” He set down his bottle.
”And how often had Vickery seen her?” I asked.
”That's the dark an' b.l.o.o.d.y mystery,” Pyecroft answered. ”I'd never come across him till I come out in the _Hierophant_ just now, an' there wasn't any one in the s.h.i.+p who knew much about him. You see, he was what you call a superior man. 'E spoke to me once or twice about Auckland and Mrs. B. on the voyage out. I called that to mind subsequently. There must 'ave been a good deal between 'em, to my way o' thinkin'. Mind you I'm only giving you my _sum_ of it all, because all I know is second-hand so to speak, or rather I should say more than second-'and.”
”How?” said Hooper peremptorily. ”You must have seen it or heard it.”
”Yes,” said Pyecroft. ”I used to think seein' and hearin' was the only regulation aids to ascertainin' facts, but as we get older we get more accommodatin'. The cylinders work easier, I suppose.... Were you in Cape Town last December when Phyllis's Circus came?”
”No--up country,” said Hooper, a little nettled at the change of venue.
”I ask because they had a new turn of a scientific nature called 'Home and Friends for a Tickey.'”
”Oh, you mean the cinematograph--the pictures of prize-fights and steamers. I've seen 'em up country.”
”Biograph or cinematograph was what I was alludin' to. London Bridge with the omnibuses--a troops.h.i.+p goin' to the war--marines on parade at Portsmouth an' the Plymouth Express arrivin' at Paddin'ton.”
”Seen 'em all. Seen 'em all,” said Hooper impatiently.
”We _Hierophants_ came in just before Christmas week an' leaf was easy.”
”I think a man gets fed up with Cape Town quicker than anywhere else on the station. Why, even Durban's more like Nature. We was there for Christmas,” Pritchard put in.
”Not bein' a devotee of Indian _peeris_, as our Doctor said to the p.u.s.s.er, I can't exactly say. Phyllis's was good enough after musketry practice at Mozambique. I couldn't get off the first two or three nights on account of what you might call an imbroglio with our Torpedo Lieutenant in the submerged flat, where some pride of the West country had sugared up a gyroscope; but I remember Vickery went ash.o.r.e with our Carpenter Rigdon-- old Crocus we called him. As a general rule Crocus never left 'is s.h.i.+p unless an' until he was 'oisted out with a winch, but _when_ 'e went 'e would return noddin' like a lily gemmed with dew. We smothered him down below that night, but the things 'e said about Vickery as a fittin'
playmate for a Warrant Officer of 'is cubic capacity, before we got him quiet, was what I should call pointed.”
”I've been with Crocus--in the _Redoubtable_,” said the Sergeant. ”He's a character if there is one.”
”Next night I went into Cape Town with Dawson and Pratt; but just at the door of the Circus I came across Vickery. 'Oh!' he says, 'you're the man I'm looking for. Come and sit next me. This way to the s.h.i.+llin' places!'
I went astern at once, protestin' because tickey seats better suited my so-called finances. 'Come on,' says Vickery, 'I'm payin'.' Naturally I abandoned Pratt and Dawson in antic.i.p.ation o' drinks to match the seats.
'No,' he says, when this was 'inted--'not now. Not now. As many as you please afterwards, but I want you sober for the occasion.' I caught 'is face under a lamp just then, an' the appearance of it quite cured me of my thirsts. Don't mistake. It didn't frighten me. It made me anxious. I can't tell you what it was like, but that was the effect which it 'ad on me. If you want to know, it reminded me of those things in bottles in those herbalistic shops at Plymouth--preserved in spirits of wine. White an'
crumply things--previous to birth as you might say.”
”You 'ave a b.e.a.s.t.i.a.l mind, Pye,” said the Sergeant, relighting his pipe.