The Stampeding of Lady Bastable

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　

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"It would be rather nice if you would put Clovis up for another six days while Igo up north to the MacGregors'," said Mrs. Sangrail sleepily across thebreakfast-table. It was her invariable plan to speak in a sleepy, comfortablevoice whenever she was unusually keen about anything; it put people off theirguard, and they frequently fell in with her wishes before they had realized thatshe was really asking for anything. Lady Bastable, however, was not so easilytaken unawares; possibly she knew that voice and what it betokened - at anyrate, she knew Clovis.She frowned at a piece of toast and ate it very slowly, as though she wished toconvey the impression that the process hurt her more than it hurt the toast; butno extension of hospitality on Clovis's behalf rose to her lips."It would be a great convenience to me," pursued Mrs. Sangrail, abandoning thecareless tone. "I particularly don't want to take him to the MacGregors', and itwill only be for six days.""It will seem longer," said Lady Bastable dismally. "The last time he stayedhere for a week--""I know," interrupted the other hastily, "but that was nearly two years ago. Hewas younger then.""But he hasn't improved," said her hostess; "it's no use growing older if youonly learn new ways of misbehaving yourself."Mrs. Sangrail was unable to argue the point; since Clovis had reached the age ofseventeen she had never ceased to bewail his irrepressible waywardness to allher circle of acquaintances, and a polite scepticism would have greeted theslightest hint at a prospective reformation. She discarded the fruitless effortat cajolery and resorted to undisguised bribery."If you'll have him here for these six days I'll cancel that outstanding bridgeaccount."It was only for forty-nine shillings, but Lady Bastable loved shillings with agreat, strong love. To lose money at bridge and not to have to pay it was one ofthose rare experiences which gave the card-table a glamour in her eyes which itcould never otherwise have possessed. Mrs. Sangrail was almost equally devotedto her card winnings, but the prospect of conveniently warehousing her offspringfor six days, and incidentally saving his railway fare to the north, reconciledher to the sacrifice; when Clovis made a belated appearance at the breakfast-table the bargain had been struck."Just think," said Mrs. Sangrail sleepily; "Lady Bastable has very kindly askedyou to stay on here while I go to the MacGregors'."Clovis said suitable things in a highly unsuitable manner, and proceeded to makepunitive expeditions among the breakfast dishes with a scowl on his face thatwould have driven the purr out of a peace conference. The arrangement that hadbeen concluded behind his back was doubly distasteful to him. In the firstplace, he particularly wanted to teach the MacGregor boys, who could well affordthe knowledge, how to play poker-patience; secondly, the Bastable catering wasof the kind that is classified as a rude plenty, which Clovis translated as aplenty that gives rise to rude remarks. Watching him from behind ostentatiouslysleepy lids, his mother realized, in the light of long experience, that anyrejoicing over the success of her manoeuvre would be distinctly premature. Itwas one thing to fit Clovis into a convenient niche of the domestic jig-sawpuzzle; it was quite another matter to get him to stay there.Lady Bastable was wont to retire in state to the morning-room immediately afterbreakfast and spend a quiet hour in skimming through the papers; they werethere, so she might as well get their money's worth out of them. Politics didnot greatly interest her, but she was obsessed with a favourite foreboding thatone of these days there would be a great social upheaval, in which everybodywould be killed by everybody else. "It will come sooner than we think," shewould observe darkly; a mathematical expert of exceptionally high powers wouldhave been puzzled to work out the approximate date from the slender andconfusing groundwork which this assertion afforded.On this particular morning the sight of Lady Bastable enthroned among her papersgave Clovis the hint towards which his mind had been groping all breakfast time.His mother had gone upstairs to supervise packing operations, and he was aloneon the ground-floor with his hostess - and the servants. The latter were the keyto the situation. Bursting wildly into the kitchen quarters, Clovis screamed afrantic though strictly non-committal summons: "Poor Lady Bastable! In themorning-room! Oh, quick!" The next moment the butler, cook, page-boy, two orthree maids, and a gardener who had happened to be in one of the outer kitchenswere following in a hot scurry after Clovis as he headed back for the morning-room. Lady Bastable was roused from the world of newspaper lore by hearing aJapanese screen in the hall go down with a crash. Then the door leading from theball flew open and her young guest tore madly through the room, shrieked at herin passing, "The jacquerie! They're on us!" and dashed like an escaping hawk outthrough the French window. The scared mob of servants burst in on his heels, thegardener still clutching the sickle with which he had been trimming hedges, andthe impetus of their headlong haste carried them, slipping and sliding, over thesmooth parquet flooring towards the chair where their mistress sat in panic-stricken amazement. If she had had a moment granted her for reflection she wouldhave behaved, as she afterwards explained, with considerable dignity. It wasprobably the sickle which decided her, but anyway she followed the lead thatClovis had given her through the French window, and ran well and far across thelawn before the eyes of her astonished retainers.Lost dignity is not a possession which can be restored at a moment's notice, andboth Lady Bastable and the butler found the process of returning to normalconditions almost as painful as a slow recovery from drowning. A jacquerie, evenif carried out with the most respectful of intentions, cannot fail to leave sometraces of embarrassment behind it. By lunch-time, however, decorum hadreasserted itself with enhanced rigour as a natural rebound from its recentoverthrow, and the meal was served in a frigid stateliness that might have beenframed on a Byzantine model. Half-way through its duration Mrs. Sangrail wassolemnly presented with an envelope lying on a silver salver. It contained acheque for forty-nine shillings.The MacGregor boys learned how to play poker-patience; after all, they couldafford to.

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