And Berry Came Too by Dornford Yates Page B

Jonah. “If it’s a firm that knows us—”
    “That’s an idea,” said Berry. “What luck if it’s Bamptons. We owe them two hundred pounds.”
    As luck would have it, I had the day’s Times by my side. With no time to read it at home, I had brought it along.
    Together my cousin and I examined its sheets…
    For a while the announcement escaped us, and the others, including the Knave, stood up in the car and added their eyes to the quest.
    Then Jill’s pink finger stabbed at the foot of a page.
    “Hammercloth – there it is, Boy.”
    As I followed her indication, a cry of anguish from Berry rang in my ear.
    “Who said it began at midday?”
    With his words I found the legend: Today, Tuesday, June 16th, precisely at half past ten…
    There was a ghastly silence. Then—
    “Deposit be damned,” said Jonah, and let in the clutch.

    It was five and twenty to twelve when we sighted the chimneys of Hammercloth, rosy against the blue. Two minutes later we swept past the waiting cars and up to the front of the house.
    Doors and windows were open; the broad, white steps bore the print of many feet; but nobody was to be seen. The only sign of life was the clear-cut voice of a man – floating out of a latticed casement, perhaps ten paces away.
    “ Two hundred and forty-five pounds. Two hundred and forty-five pounds. Any advance on two hundred and forty-five pounds? A poor bid, gentlemen, for such a magnificent lot. Worth treble that, and you know it. Two hundred and forty-five pounds …”
    For an instant we sat paralysed. Then we all made to leave the Rolls, as though the car was afire.
    I was the first to alight.
    As I tore to the open window, I heard the relentless voice.
    “ For the last time any advance on two hundred and forty-five pounds? ”
    I thrust my head into the room.
    “Fifty,” I cried.
    The hammer which had been lifted sank to the desk: some seventy heads came round and I found myself the cynosure of every eye in the room.
    The auctioneer smiled and nodded.
    “ Two hundred and fifty, thank you. Two hundred and fifty pounds. Any advance on …”
    There was no advance.
    As I entered the hall, Jonah met me to say that I had become the owner of six Jacobean chairs.
    When I explained that I had neither chequebook nor card, the auctioneer’s clerk declared that that did not matter at all.
    “You can pay on delivery, sir. We’ll send them over to you whenever you like.”
    The table had not been sold. It seemed clear that it would not be reached before half past two.

    The village of Hammercloth had but one decent inn, and since this was sure to be crowded with dealers attending the sale, we drove to the neighbouring hamlet of Shepherd’s Pipe. Here the staff of The Woolpack received us with open arms, for Shepherd’s Pipe is retired, and strangers, except upon Sundays, are seldom seen: the garden was put at our disposal, a coach-house at that of the Rolls, and, before we had time to ask, our amiable host had proposed that our lunch should be served on the lawn in the shade of an oak. We assented gratefully…
    Berry removed his coat, hung this on the back of a chair, commanded a quart of ale and laid himself down on the grass.
    “You may have observed,” he said, addressing his wife, “that since your dear brother’s coup , I have not opened my mouth. Now, however, I feel disposed to inquire why we are lunching here, instead of at home.”
    “You can’t blame Boy,” said Jill, who was sitting down with the Knave. “Supposing it had been the table.”
    “I decline to suppose,” said Berry. “The facts are pregnant enough. Against my will I’ve been rushed some fifty odd miles in the heat of the day for the privilege of hearing an entirely unauthorized person spend eighty-three pounds six shillings and eightpence of my money on the purchase of some worm-eaten chairs. I may be peculiar, but a little of that sort of excitement lasts me a very long time. I feel that I want to go home – and