d’you think the damages will be, then? Or would you rather not say?’
‘Well — I oughtn’t to mention figures, in case you’ve a larger one in mind, Judge, but heavy, very heavy.’
‘Against me?’
‘Against all of you. The plaintiff seems a decent enough chap, bit short of money, of course, but—’
‘A decent enough chap, did you say?’
‘Yes, he seemed all right to me, Judge; but I gather he’s not very popular in the neighbourhood.’
‘He’s an out-and-out bounder.’
‘Clapson thinks all his geese are swans,’ put in Maynard. ‘That’s one of his few failings. So I shouldn’t worry about that.’
‘But,’ he added after Clapson had left them, ‘the trouble seems to be that it doesn’t much matter what the plaintiff’s like. It’s damned bad luck, though. I wish I could be of more help.’
The Judge returned disconsolately to Tapworth Magna and telephoned the General.
‘I’ll pay,’ he said resignedly. ‘But try and keep it as low as possible.’
‘You’ll be there yourself,’ said the General.
‘Oh, of course,’ said the Judge.
On the following Wednesday the required deputation met at Basil’s house. He greeted them with surprising cordiality.
‘Come in, my dear fellows,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you all. Quite a long time since we met. Oh, this is Mr Mountain of the Poppleton County Court,’ and he introduced them all to the bailiff. ‘Suppose we have a drink first of all. What for you, General?’
This was a very different atmosphere from what had been expected, but, although they would not in the normal way willingly have drunk with Basil, there was plainly no alternative. Moreover, their hopes began to rise. Nicholas had said Basil was a man of many moods. Perhaps they had arrived at the psychological moment.
‘I suppose one of you couldn’t lend me £155?’ he asked.
‘Certainly, my dear fellow,’ said the General. ‘Delighted. When would you like it?’
‘Well, it’s Mr Mountain here who wants it, really. Will you take a cheque, Mr Mountain?’
‘Well, I can’t really sir. But I tell you what I can do for you, if you like. It’s a little irregular, but —‘
‘Within the flexibility of the law,’ prompted Basil. ‘Exactly, sir. If Sir Bragge is prepared to give me his open cheque on a Poppleton Bank, I will go and cash it myself and pay it into the County Court.’
‘That’s uncommonly civil of you,’ said Basil. ‘What do you say, General?’
‘Only too pleased. Just wait while I get out my cheque book.’
It was not long before the bailiff was on his way back to Poppleton.
‘Perhaps I can repay the loan by bringing it into account in the little matter you’ve come to discuss?’
‘Certainly, my dear fellow.’
‘Judge, your glass is empty. There. That’s better. And you’ll be pleased to see I haven’t got my hands in my pockets.’
Judge Strachan grinned feebly.
‘And I’m standing up straight too.’
The Judge tried again, but it was not very successful. ‘Well, now, what’s the news?’ said Basil genially to the company in general. ‘How’s my rascal of a nephew? He was half seas over last time I saw him.’ So the conversation went on for about twenty minutes. Then the General fired a sighting shot.
‘Now, my boy,’ he said, in a jovial tone. ‘What about our little dispute? It’s good of you to see us.’
‘Not at all, my dear General, not at all. Only too pleased. It’s such a pity you’re not paying just a friendly call. I should have preferred that.’
‘Well, it’s fairly friendly at the moment,’ said the doctor. ‘And no reason, I hope, why it shouldn’t continue to be so,’ said Basil.
By this time hopes had risen considerably higher and looks were exchanged between the members of the deputation which indicated as much.
‘Vicar, another glass of sherry? How are the sermons going? Anyone listening yet?’
‘As usual, thank you.’ There was a limit beyond which the Vicar would
‘Well — I oughtn’t to mention figures, in case you’ve a larger one in mind, Judge, but heavy, very heavy.’
‘Against me?’
‘Against all of you. The plaintiff seems a decent enough chap, bit short of money, of course, but—’
‘A decent enough chap, did you say?’
‘Yes, he seemed all right to me, Judge; but I gather he’s not very popular in the neighbourhood.’
‘He’s an out-and-out bounder.’
‘Clapson thinks all his geese are swans,’ put in Maynard. ‘That’s one of his few failings. So I shouldn’t worry about that.’
‘But,’ he added after Clapson had left them, ‘the trouble seems to be that it doesn’t much matter what the plaintiff’s like. It’s damned bad luck, though. I wish I could be of more help.’
The Judge returned disconsolately to Tapworth Magna and telephoned the General.
‘I’ll pay,’ he said resignedly. ‘But try and keep it as low as possible.’
‘You’ll be there yourself,’ said the General.
‘Oh, of course,’ said the Judge.
On the following Wednesday the required deputation met at Basil’s house. He greeted them with surprising cordiality.
‘Come in, my dear fellows,’ he said. ‘Nice to see you all. Quite a long time since we met. Oh, this is Mr Mountain of the Poppleton County Court,’ and he introduced them all to the bailiff. ‘Suppose we have a drink first of all. What for you, General?’
This was a very different atmosphere from what had been expected, but, although they would not in the normal way willingly have drunk with Basil, there was plainly no alternative. Moreover, their hopes began to rise. Nicholas had said Basil was a man of many moods. Perhaps they had arrived at the psychological moment.
‘I suppose one of you couldn’t lend me £155?’ he asked.
‘Certainly, my dear fellow,’ said the General. ‘Delighted. When would you like it?’
‘Well, it’s Mr Mountain here who wants it, really. Will you take a cheque, Mr Mountain?’
‘Well, I can’t really sir. But I tell you what I can do for you, if you like. It’s a little irregular, but —‘
‘Within the flexibility of the law,’ prompted Basil. ‘Exactly, sir. If Sir Bragge is prepared to give me his open cheque on a Poppleton Bank, I will go and cash it myself and pay it into the County Court.’
‘That’s uncommonly civil of you,’ said Basil. ‘What do you say, General?’
‘Only too pleased. Just wait while I get out my cheque book.’
It was not long before the bailiff was on his way back to Poppleton.
‘Perhaps I can repay the loan by bringing it into account in the little matter you’ve come to discuss?’
‘Certainly, my dear fellow.’
‘Judge, your glass is empty. There. That’s better. And you’ll be pleased to see I haven’t got my hands in my pockets.’
Judge Strachan grinned feebly.
‘And I’m standing up straight too.’
The Judge tried again, but it was not very successful. ‘Well, now, what’s the news?’ said Basil genially to the company in general. ‘How’s my rascal of a nephew? He was half seas over last time I saw him.’ So the conversation went on for about twenty minutes. Then the General fired a sighting shot.
‘Now, my boy,’ he said, in a jovial tone. ‘What about our little dispute? It’s good of you to see us.’
‘Not at all, my dear General, not at all. Only too pleased. It’s such a pity you’re not paying just a friendly call. I should have preferred that.’
‘Well, it’s fairly friendly at the moment,’ said the doctor. ‘And no reason, I hope, why it shouldn’t continue to be so,’ said Basil.
By this time hopes had risen considerably higher and looks were exchanged between the members of the deputation which indicated as much.
‘Vicar, another glass of sherry? How are the sermons going? Anyone listening yet?’
‘As usual, thank you.’ There was a limit beyond which the Vicar would
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