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diff --git a/old/pethl10.txt b/old/pethl10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7233efd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/pethl10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1057 @@ +**The Project Gutenberg Etext of James Pethel, by Max Beerbohm** +#1 in our series by Max Beerbohm + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Benedictine + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Benedictine University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +James Pethel + + +By MAX BEERBOHM + + + + + +I WAS shocked this morning when I saw in my newspaper a paragraph +announcing his sudden death. I do not say that the shock was very +disagreeable. One reads a newspaper for the sake of news. Had I never +met James Pethel, belike I should never have heard of him: and my +knowledge of his death, coincident with my knowledge that he had +existed, would have meant nothing at all to me. If you learn suddenly +that one of your friends is dead, you are wholly distressed. If the death is +that of a mere acquaintance whom you have recently seen, you are +disconcerted, pricked is your sense of mortality; but you do find great +solace in telling other people that you met "the poor fellow" only the +other day, and that he was "so full of life and spirits," and that you +remember he said--whatever you may remember of his sayings. If the +death is that of a mere acquaintance whom you have not seen for years, +you are touched so lightly as to find solace enough in even such faded +reminiscence as is yours to offer. Seven years have passed since the day +when last I saw James Pethel, and that day was the morrow of my first +meeting with him. + +I had formed the habit of spending August in Dieppe. The place +was then less overrun by trippers than it is now. Some pleasant English +people shared it with some pleasant French people. We used rather to +resent the race-week--the third week of the month--as an intrusion on our +privacy. We sneered as we read in the Paris edition of "The New York +Herald" the names of the intruders, though by some of these we were +secretly impressed. We disliked the nightly crush in the baccarat-room of +the casino, and the croupiers' obvious excitement at the high play. I +made a point of avoiding that room during that week, for the special +reason that the sight of serious, habitual gamblers has always filled me +with a depression bordering on disgust. Most of the men, by some subtle +stress of their ruling passion, have grown so monstrously fat, and most of +the women so harrowingly thin. The rest of the women seem to be +marked out for apoplexy, and the rest of the men to be wasting away. +One feels that anything thrown at them would be either embedded or +shattered, and looks vainly among them for one person furnished with a +normal amount of flesh. Monsters they are, all of them, to the eye, +though I believe that many of them have excellent moral qualities in +private life; but just as in an American town one goes sooner or +later--goes against one's finer judgment, but somehow goes--into the +dime-museum, so year by year, in Dieppe's race-week, there would be +always one evening when I drifted into the baccarat-room. It was on +such an evening that I first saw the man whose memory I here celebrate. +My gaze was held by him for the very reason that he would have passed +unnoticed elsewhere. He was conspicuous not in virtue of the mere fact +that he was taking the bank at the principal table, but because there was +nothing at all odd about him. + +He alone, among his fellow-players, looked as if he were not to die +before the year was out. Of him alone I said to myself that he was +destined to die normally at a ripe old age. Next day, certainly, I would +not have made this prediction, would not have "given" him the seven +years that were still in store for him, nor the comparatively normal death +that has been his. But now, as I stood opposite to him, behind the +croupier, I was refreshed by my sense of his wholesome durability. +Everything about him, except the amount of money he had been winning, +seemed moderate. Just as he was neither fat nor thin, so had his face +neither that extreme pallor nor that extreme redness which belongs to the +faces of seasoned gamblers: it was just a clear pink. And his eyes had +neither the unnatural brightness nor the unnatural dullness of the eyes +about him: they were ordinarily clear eyes, of an ordinary gray. His very +age was moderate: a putative thirty-six, not more. ("Not less," I would +have said in those days.) He assumed no air of nonchalance. He did not +deal out the cards as though they bored him, but he had no look of grim +concentration. I noticed that the removal of his cigar from his mouth +made never the least difference to his face, for he kept his lips pursed out +as steadily as ever when he was not smoking. And this constant pursing +of his lips seemed to denote just a pensive interest. + +His bank was nearly done now; there were only a few cards left. +Opposite to him was a welter of party-colored counters that the croupier +had not yet had time to sort out and add to the rouleaux already made; +there were also a fair accumulation of notes and several little stacks of +gold--in all, not less than five-hundred pounds, certainly. Happy banker! +How easily had he won in a few minutes more than I, with utmost pains, +could win in many months! I wished I were he. His lucre seemed to +insult me personally. I disliked him, and yet I hoped he would not take +another bank. I hoped he would have the good sense to pocket his +winnings and go home. Deliberately to risk the loss of all those riches +would intensify the insult to me. + +"Messieurs, la banque est aux encheres." There was some +brisk bidding while the croupier tore open and shuffled two new packs. +But it was as I feared: the gentleman whom I resented kept his place. + +"Messieurs, la banque est faite. Quinze-mille francs a la +banque. Messieurs, les cartes passent. Messieurs, les cartes passent." + +Turning to go, I encountered a friend, one of the race-weekers, but +in a sense a friend. + +"Going to play?" I asked. + +"Not while Jimmy Pethel's taking the bank," he answered, with a +laugh. + +"Is that the man's name?" + +"Yes. Don't you know him? I thought every one knew old Jimmy +Pethel." + +I asked what there was so wonderful about "old Jimmy Pethel" that +every one should be supposed to know him. + +"Oh, he's a great character. Has extraordinary luck--always." + +I do not think my friend was versed in the pretty theory that good +luck is the subconscious wisdom of them who in previous incarnations +have been consciously wise. He was a member of the stock exchange, +and I smiled as at a certain quaintness in his remark. I asked in what +ways besides luck the "great character" was manifested. Oh, well, Pethel +had made a huge "scoop" on the stock exchange when he was only +twenty-three, and very soon had doubled that and doubled it again; then +retired. He wasn't more than thirty-five now, And then? Oh, +well, he was a regular all-round sportsman; had gone after big game all +over the world and had a good many narrow shaves. Great +steeple-chaser, too. Rather settled down now. Lived in Leicestershire +mostly. Had a big place there. Hunted five times a week. Still did an +occasional flutter, though. Cleared eighty-thousand in Mexicans last +February. Wife had been a barmaid at Cambridge; married her when he +was nineteen. Thing seemed to have turned out quite well. Altogether, a +great character. + +Possibly, thought I. But my cursory friend, accustomed to quick +transactions and to things accepted "on the nod," had not proved his case +to my slower, more literary intelligence. It was to him, though, that I +owed, some minutes later, a chance of testing his opinion. At the cry of +"Messieurs, la banque est aux encheres," we looked round and +saw that the subject of our talk was preparing to rise from his place. +"Now one can punt," said Grierson (this was my friend's name), and +turned to the bureau at which counters are for sale. "If old Jimmy Pethel +punts," he added, "I shall just follow his luck." But this lode-star was not +to be. While my friend was buying his counters, and I was wondering +whether I, too, could buy some, Pethel himself came up to the bureau. +With his lips no longer pursed, he had lost his air of gravity, and looked +younger. Behind him was an attendant bearing a big wooden bowl--that +plain, but romantic, bowl supplied by the establishment to a banker +whose gains are too great to be pocketed. He and Grierson greeted each +other. He said he had arrived in Dieppe this afternoon, was here for a +day or two. We were introduced. He spoke to me with +empressement, saying he was a "very great admirer" of my work. +I no longer disliked him. Grierson, armed with counters, had now darted +away to secure a place that had just been vacated. Pethel, with a wave of +his hand toward the tables, said: + +"I suppose you never condescend to this sort of thing." + +"Well--" I smiled indulgently. + +"Awful waste of time," he admitted. + +I glanced down at the splendid mess of counters and gold and notes +that were now becoming, under the swift fingers of the little man at the +bureau, an orderly array. I did not say aloud that it pleased me to be, and +to be seen, talking on terms of equality to a man who had won so much. +I did not say how wonderful it seemed to me that he, whom I had +watched just now with awe and with aversion, had all the while been a +great admirer of my work. I did but say, again indulgently, that I +supposed baccarat to be as good a way of wasting time as another. + +"Ah, but you despise us all the same." He added that he always +envied men who had resources within themselves. I laughed lightly, to +imply that it WAS very pleasant to have such resources, but that I +didn't want to boast. And, indeed, I had never felt humbler, flimsier, than +when the little man at the bureau, naming a fabulous sum, asked its +owner whether he would take the main part in notes of mille francs, +cinq-mille, dix-mille--quoi? Had it been mine, I should have asked to +have it all in five-franc pieces. Pethel took it in the most compendious +form, and crumpled it into his pocket. I asked if he were going to play +any more to-night. + +"Oh, later on," he said. "I want to get a little sea air into my lungs +now." He asked, with a sort of breezy diffidence, if I would go with him. +I was glad to do so. It flashed across my mind that yonder on the terrace +he might suddenly blurt out: "I say, look here, don't think me awfully +impertinent, but this money's no earthly use to me. I do wish you'd +accept it as a very small return for all the pleasure your work has given +me, and-- There, PLEASE! Not another word!"--all with such +candor, delicacy, and genuine zeal that I should be unable to refuse. But +I must not raise false hopes in my reader. Nothing of the sort happened. +Nothing of that sort ever does happen. + +We were not long on the terrace. It was not a night on which you could stroll +and talk; there was a wind against which you had to stagger, holding your hat +on tightly, and shouting such remarks as might occur to you. Against that +wind acquaintance could make no headway. Yet I see now that despite +that wind, or, rather, because of it, I ought already to have known Pethel +a little better than I did when we presently sat down together inside the +cafe of the casino. There had been a point in our walk, or our stagger, +when we paused to lean over the parapet, looking down at the black +and driven sea. And Pethel had shouted that it would be great fun +to be out in a sailing-boat to-night, and that at one time he had been very +fond of sailing. + +As we took our seats in the cafe, he looked about him with +boyish interest and pleasure; then squaring his arms on the little table, he +asked me what I would drink. I protested that I was the host, a position +which he, with the quick courtesy of the very rich, yielded to me at once. +I feared he would ask for champagne, and was gladdened by his demand +for water. + +"Apollinaris, St. Galmier, or what?" I asked. He preferred plain +water. I ventured to warn him that such water was never "safe" in these +places. He said he had often heard that, but would risk it. I +remonstrated, but he was firm. "Alors," I told the waiter, "pour Monsieur +un verre de l'eau fraiche, et pour moi un demi blonde." + +Pethel asked me to tell him who every one was. I told him no one +was any one in particular, and suggested that we should talk about +ourselves. + +"You mean," he laughed, "that you want to know who the devil I +am?" + +I assured him that I had often heard of him. At this he was +unaffectedly pleased. + +"But," I added, "it's always more interesting to hear a man talked +about by himself." And indeed, since he had NOT handed his +winnings over to me, I did hope he would at any rate give me some +glimpses into that "great character" of his. Full though his life had been, +he seemed but like a rather clever schoolboy out on a holiday. I wanted +to know more. + +"That beer looks good," he admitted when the waiter came back. I +asked him to change his mind, but he shook his head, raised to his lips +the tumbler of water that had been placed before him, and meditatively +drank a deep draft. "I never," he then said, "touch alcohol of any sort." +He looked solemn; but all men do look solemn when they speak of their +own habits, whether positive or negative, and no matter how trivial; and +so, though I had really no warrant for not supposing him a reclaimed +drunkard, I dared ask him for what reason he abstained. + +"When I say I NEVER touch alcohol," he said hastily, in a +tone as of self-defense, "I mean that I don't touch it often, or, at any +rate--well, I never touch it when I'm gambling, you know. It--it takes the +edge off." + +His tone did make me suspicious. For a moment I wondered +whether he had married the barmaid rather for what she symbolized than +for what in herself she was. But no, surely not; he had been only +nineteen years old. Nor in any way had he now, this steady, brisk, +clear-eyed fellow, the aspect of one who had since fallen. + +"The edge off the excitement?" I asked. + +"Rather. Of course that sort of excitement seems awfully stupid to +YOU; but--no use denying it--I do like a bit of a flutter, just +occasionally, you know. And one has to be in trim for it. Suppose a man +sat down dead-drunk to a game of chance, what fun would it be for him? +None. And it's only a question of degree. Soothe yourself ever so little +with alcohol, and you don't get QUITE the full sensation of +gambling. You do lose just a little something of the proper tremors +before a coup, the proper throes during a coup, the proper thrill of joy or +anguish after a coup. You're bound to, you know," he added, purposely +making this bathos when he saw me smiling at the heights to which he +had risen. + +"And to-night," I asked, remembering his prosaically pensive +demeanor in taking the bank, "were you feeling these throes and thrills to +the utmost?" + + +He nodded. + +"And you'll feel them again to-night?" + +"I hope so." + +"I wonder you can stay away." + +"Oh, one gets a bit deadened after an hour or so. One needs to be +freshened up. So long as I don't bore you--" + +I laughed, and held out my cigarette-case. + +"I rather wonder you smoke," I murmured, after giving him a light. +"Nicotine's a sort of drug. Doesn't it soothe you? Don't you lose just a +little something of the tremors and things?" + +He looked at me gravely. + +"By Jove!" he ejaculated, "I never thought of that. Perhaps you're +right. 'Pon my word, I must think that over." + +I wondered whether he were secretly laughing at me. Here was a +man to whom--so I conceived, with an effort of the imagination--the loss +or gain of a few hundred pounds could hardly matter. I told him I had +spoken in jest. "To give up tobacco might," I said, "intensify the pleasant +agonies of a gambler staking his little all. But in your case--well, I don't +see where the pleasant agonies come in." + +"You mean because I'm beastly rich?" + +"Rich," I amended. + +"All depends on what you call rich. Besides, I'm not the sort of +fellow who's content with three per cent. A couple of months ago--I tell +you this in confidence--I risked virtually all I had in an Argentine deal." + +"And lost it?" + +"No; as a matter of fact, I made rather a good thing out of it. I did +rather well last February, too. But there's no knowing the future. A few +errors of judgment, a war here, a revolution there, a big strike somewhere +else, and--" He blew a jet of smoke from his lips, and then looked at me +as at one whom he could trust to feel for him in a crash already come. + +My sympathy lagged, and I stuck to the point of my inquiry. + +"Meanwhile," I suggested, "and all the more because you aren't +merely a rich man, but also an active taker of big risks, how can these +tiny little baccarat risks give you so much emotion?" + +"There you rather have me," he laughed. "I've often wondered at +that myself. I suppose," he puzzled it out, "I do a good lot of +make-believe. While I'm playing a game like this game to-night, I +IMAGINE the stakes are huge. And I IMAGINE I haven't +another penny in the world." + +"Ah, so that with you it's always a life-and-death affair?" + +He looked away. + +"Oh, no, I don't say that." + +"Stupid phrase," I admitted. "But"--there was yet one point I would +put to him--"if you have extraordinary luck always--" + +"There's no such thing as luck." + +"No, strictly, I suppose, there isn't. But if in point of fact you +always do win, then--well, surely, perfect luck driveth out fear." + +"Who ever said I always won?" he asked sharply. + +I waved my hands and said, "Oh, you have the reputation, you +know, for extraordinary luck." + +"That isn't the same thing as always winning. Besides, I +HAVEN'T extraordinary luck, never HAVE had. Good +heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I thought I had any more chance of winning +than of losing, I'd--I'd--" + +"Never again set foot in that baccarat-room to-night," I soothingly +suggested. + +"Oh, baccarat be blowed! I wasn't thinking of baccarat. I was +thinking of--oh, lots of things; baccarat included, yes." + +"What things?" I ventured to ask. + +"What things?" He pushed back his chair. "Look here," he said +with a laugh, "don't pretend I haven't been boring your head off with all +this talk about myself. You've been too patient. I'm off. Shall I see you +to-morrow? Perhaps you'd lunch with us to-morrow? It would be a great +pleasure for my wife. We're at the Grand Hotel." + +I said I should be most happy, and called the waiter; at sight of +whom my friend said he had talked himself thirsty, and asked for another +glass of water. He mentioned that he had brought his car over +with him: his little daughter (by the news of whose existence I felt +idiotically surprised) was very keen on motoring, and they were all three +starting the day after to-morrow on a little tour through France. +Afterward they were going on to Switzerland "for some climbing." Did I +care about motoring? If so, we might go for a spin after luncheon, to +Rouen or somewhere. He drank his glass of water, and, linking a +friendly arm in mine, passed out with me into the corridor. He asked +what I was writing now, and said that he looked to me to "do something +big one of these days," and that he was sure I had it in me. This remark, +though of course I pretended to be pleased by it, irritated me very much. +It was destined, as you shall see, to irritate me very much more in +recollection. + +Yet I was glad he had asked me to luncheon--glad because I liked +him and glad because I dislike mysteries. Though you may think me very +dense for not having thoroughly understood Pethel in the course of my +first meeting with him, the fact is that I was only aware, and that dimly, +of something more in him than he had cared to reveal--some veil behind +which perhaps lurked his right to the title so airily bestowed on him by +Grierson. I assured myself, as I walked home, that if veil there was, I +should to-morrow find an eyelet. But one's intuition when it is off duty +seems always a much more powerful engine than it does on active +service; and next day, at sight of Pethel awaiting me outside his hotel, I +became less confident. His, thought I, was a face which, for all its +animation, would tell nothing--nothing, at any rate, that mattered. It +expressed well enough that he was pleased to see me; but for the rest I +was reminded that it had a sort of frank inscrutability. Besides, it was at +all points so very usual a face--a face that couldn't (so I then thought), +even if it had leave to, betray connection with a "great character." It was +a strong face, certainly; but so are yours and mine. + +And very fresh it looked, though, as he confessed, Pethel had sat up +in "that beastly baccarat-room" till five A.M. I asked, had he lost? Yes, +he had lost steadily for four hours (proudly he laid stress on this), but in +the end--well, he had won it all back "and a bit more." "By the way," he +murmured as we were about to enter the hall, "don't ever happen to +mention to my wife what I told you about that Argentine deal. She's +always rather nervous about--investments. I don't tell her about them. +She's rather a nervous woman altogether, I'm sorry to say." + +This did not square with my preconception of her. Slave that I am +to traditional imagery, I had figured her as "flaunting," as golden-haired, +as haughty to most men, but with a provocative smile across the shoulder +for some. Nor, indeed, did her husband's words save me the suspicion +that my eyes deceived me when anon I was presented to a very pale, +small lady whose hair was rather white than gray. And the "little +daughter!" This prodigy's hair was as yet "down," but looked as if it +might be up at any moment: she was nearly as tall as her father, whom +she very much resembled in face and figure and heartiness of +hand-shake. Only after a rapid mental calculation could I account for +her. + +"I must warn you, she's in a great rage this morning," said her +father. "Do try to soothe her." She blushed, laughed, and bade her father +not be so silly. I asked her the cause of her great rage. She said: + +"He only means I was disappointed. And he was just as +disappointed as I was. WEREN'T you, now, Father?" + +"I suppose they meant well, Peggy," he laughed. + +"They were QUITE right," said Mrs. Pethel, evidently not for +the first time. + +"They," as I presently learned, were the authorities of the +bathing-establishment. Pethel had promised his daughter he would +take her for a swim; but on their arrival at the bathing-cabins they were +ruthlessly told that bathing was defendu a cause du +mauvais temps. This embargo was our theme as we sat down to +luncheon. Miss Peggy was of opinion that the French were +cowards. I pleaded for them that even in English watering-places bathing +was forbidden when the sea was VERY rough. She did not admit +that the sea was very rough to-day. Besides, she appealed to me, where +was the fun of swimming in absolutely calm water? I dared not say that +this was the only sort of water I liked to swim in. + +"They were QUITE right," said Mrs. Pethel again. + +"Yes, but, darling Mother, you can't swim. Father and I are both +splendid swimmers." + +To gloss over the mother's disability, I looked brightly at Pethel, as +though in ardent recognition of his prowess among waves. With a +movement of his head he indicated his daughter--indicated that there was +no one like her in the whole world. I beamed agreement. Indeed, I did +think her rather nice. If one liked the father (and I liked Pethel all the +more in that capacity), one couldn't help liking the daughter, the two +were so absurdly alike. Whenever he was looking at her (and it was +seldom that he looked away from her), the effect, if you cared to be +fantastic, was that of a very vain man before a mirror. It might have +occurred to me that, if there was any mystery in him, I could solve it +through her. But, in point of fact, I had forgotten all about that possible +mystery. The amateur detective was lost in the sympathetic observer of a +father's love. That Pethel did love his daughter I have never doubted. +One passion is not less true because another predominates. No one who +ever saw that father with that daughter could doubt that he loved her +intensely. And this intensity gages for me the strength of what else was +in him. + +Mrs. Pethel's love, though less explicit, was not less evidently +profound. But the maternal instinct is less attractive to an onlooker, +because he takes it more for granted than the paternal. What endeared +poor Mrs. Pethel to me was--well, the inevitability of the epithet I give +her. She seemed, poor thing, so essentially out of it; and by "it" is meant +the glowing mutual affinity of husband and child. Not that she didn't, in +her little way, assert herself during the meal. But she did so, I thought, +with the knowledge that she didn't count, and never would count. I +wondered how it was that she had, in that Cambridge bar-room long ago, +counted for Pethel to the extent of matrimony. But from any such room +she seemed so utterly remote that she might well be in all respects now +an utterly changed woman. She did preeminently look as if much +had by some means been taken out of her, with no compensatory process +of putting in. Pethel looked so very young for his age, whereas she +would have had to be really old to look young for hers. I pitied her as +one might a governess with two charges who were hopelessly out of +hand. But a governess, I reflected, can always give notice. Love tied +poor Mrs. Pethel fast to her present situation. + +As the three of them were to start next day on their tour through +France, and as the four of us were to make a tour to Rouen this +afternoon, the talk was much about motoring, a theme which Miss +Peggy's enthusiasm made almost tolerable. I said to Mrs. Pethel, with +more good-will than truth, that I supposed she was "very keen on it." She +replied that she was. + +"But, darling Mother, you aren't. I believe you hate it. You're +ALWAYS asking father to go slower. And what IS the fun of +just crawling along?" + +"Oh, come, Peggy, we never crawl!" said her father. + +"No, indeed," said her mother in a tone of which Pethel laughingly +said it would put me off coming out with them this afternoon. I said, +with an expert air to reassure Mrs. Pethel, that it wasn't fast driving, but +only bad driving, that was a danger. + +"There, Mother!" cried Peggy. "Isn't that what we're always telling +you?" + +I felt that they were always either telling Mrs. Pethel something or, +as in the matter of that intended bath, not telling her something. It +seemed to me possible that Peggy advised her father about his +"investments." I wondered whether they had yet told Mrs. +Pethel of their intention to go on to Switzerland for some climbing. + +Of his secretiveness for his wife's sake I had a touching little +instance after luncheon. We had adjourned to have coffee in front of the +hotel. The car was already in attendance, and Peggy had darted off to +make her daily inspection of it. Pethel had given me a cigar, and his wife +presently noticed that he himself was not smoking. He explained to her +that he thought he had smoked too much lately, and that he was going to +"knock it off" for a while. I would not have smiled if he had met my eye, +but his avoidance of it made me quite sure that he really had been +"thinking over" what I had said last night about nicotine and its possibly +deleterious action on the gambling thrill. + +Mrs. Pethel saw the smile that I could not repress. I explained that I +was wishing _I_ could knock off tobacco, and envying her +husband's strength of character. She smiled, too, but wanly, with her +eyes on him. + +"Nobody has so much strength of character as he has," she said. + +"Nonsense!" he laughed. "I'm the weakest of men." + +"Yes," she said quietly; "that's true, too, James." + +Again he laughed, but he flushed. I saw that Mrs. Pethel also had +faintly flushed, and I became horribly aware of following suit. In the +sudden glow and silence created by Mrs. Pethel's paradox, I was grateful +to the daughter for bouncing back among us, and asking how soon we +should be ready to start. + +Pethel looked at his wife, who looked at me and rather strangely +asked if I was sure I wanted to go with them. I protested that of course I +did. Pethel asked her if SHE really wanted to come. + +"You see, dear, there was the run yesterday from Calais. And +to-morrow you'll be on the road again, and all the days after." + +"Yes," said Peggy; "I'm SURE you'd much rather stay at +home, darling Mother, and have a good rest." + +"Shall we go and put on our things, Peggy?" replied Mrs. Pethel, +rising from her chair. She asked her husband whether he was taking the +chauffeur with him. He said he thought not. + +"Oh, hurrah!" cried Peggy. "Then I can be on the front seat!" + +"No, dear," said her mother. "I am sure Mr. Beerbohms +would like to be on the front seat." + +"You'd like to be with mother, wouldn't you?" the girl appealed. I +replied with all possible emphasis that I should like to be with Mrs. +Pethel. But presently, when the mother and daughter reappeared in the +guise of motorists, it became clear that my aspiration had been set aside. +"I am to be with mother," said Peggy. + +I was inwardly glad that Mrs. Pethel could, after all, assert herself +to some purpose. Had I thought she disliked me, I should have been hurt; +but I was sure her desire that I should not sit with her was due merely to a +belief that, in case of accident, a person on the front seat was less safe +than a person behind. And of course I did not expect her to prefer my +life to her daughter's. Poor lady! My heart was with her. As the car +glided along the sea-front and then under the Norman archway, through +the town, and past the environs, I wished that her husband inspired in her +as much confidence as he did in me. For me the sight of his clear, firm +profile (he did not wear motor-goggles) was an assurance in itself. From +time to time (for I, too, was ungoggled) I looked round to nod and smile +cheerfully at his wife. She always returned the nod, but left the smile to +be returned by the daughter. + +Pethel, like the good driver he was, did not talk; just drove. But as +we came out on to the Rouen road he did say that in France he always +rather missed the British police-traps. "Not," he added, "that I've ever +fallen into one. But the chance that a policeman MAY at any +moment dart out, and land you in a bit of a scrape does rather add to the +excitement, don't you think?" Though I answered in the tone of one to whom +the chance of a police-trap is the very salt of life, I did not inwardly +like the spirit of his remark. However, I dismissed it from my mind. +The sun was shining, and the wind had dropped: it was an ideal day +for motoring, and the Norman landscape had never looked lovelier to me +in its width of sober and silvery grace. + + +*The other names in this memoir are, for good reason, pseudonyms. + + +I presently felt that this landscape was not, after all, doing itself full +justice. Was it not rushing rather too quickly past? "James!" said a +shrill, faint voice from behind, and gradually--"Oh, darling Mother, +really!" protested another voice--the landscape slackened pace. But after +a while, little by little, the landscape lost patience, forgot its good +manners, and flew faster and faster than before. The road rushed +furiously beneath us, like a river in spate. Avenues of poplars flashed +past us, every tree of them on each side hissing and swishing angrily in +the draft we made. Motors going Rouen-ward seemed to be past as +quickly as motors that bore down on us. Hardly had I espied in the +landscape ahead a chateau or other object of interest before I was +craning my neck round for a final glimpse of it as it faded on the +backward horizon. An endless uphill road was breasted and crested in a +twinkling and transformed into a decline near the end of which our car +leaped straight across to the opposite ascent, and--"James!" again, and +again by degrees the laws of nature were reestablished, but again +by degrees revoked. I did not doubt that speed in itself was no danger; +but, when the road was about to make a sharp curve, why shouldn't +Pethel, just as a matter of form, slow down slightly, and sound a note or +two of the hooter? Suppose another car were--well, that was all right: the +road was clear; but at the next turning, when our car neither slackened +nor hooted and WAS for an instant full on the wrong side of the +road, I had within me a contraction which (at thought of what must have +been if--) lasted though all was well. Loath to betray fear, I hadn't turned +my face to Pethel. Eyes front! And how about that wagon ahead, huge +hay-wagon plodding with its back to us, seeming to occupy whole road? +Surely Pethel would slacken, hoot. No. Imagine a needle threaded with +one swift gesture from afar. Even so was it that we shot, between wagon +and road's-edge, through; whereon, confronting us within a few +yards--inches now, but we swerved--was a cart that incredibly we grazed +not as we rushed on, on. Now indeed I had turned my eyes on Pethel's +profile; and my eyes saw there that which stilled, with a greater emotion, +all fear and wonder in me. + +I think that for the first instant, oddly, what I felt was merely +satisfaction, not hatred; for I all but asked him whether, by not smoking +to-day, he had got a keener edge to his thrills. I understood him, and for +an instant this sufficed me. Those pursed-out lips, so queerly different +from the compressed lips of the normal motorist, and seeming, as +elsewhere last night, to denote no more than pensive interest, had told me +suddenly all that I needed to know about Pethel. Here, as there,--and, oh, +ever so much better here than there!--he could gratify the passion that +was in him. No need of any "make-believe" here. I remembered the +queer look he had given when I asked if his gambling were always "a +life-and-death affair." Here was the real thing, the authentic game, for +the highest stakes. And here was I, a little extra stake tossed on to the +board. He had vowed I had it in me to do "something big." Perhaps, +though, there had been a touch of make-believe about that. I am afraid it +was not before my thought about myself that my moral sense began to +operate and my hatred of Pethel set in. Put it to my credit that I did see +myself as a mere detail in his villainy. You deprecate the word +"villainy"? Understand all, forgive all? No doubt. But between the acts +of understanding and forgiving an interval may sometimes be condoned. +Condone it in this instance. Even at the time I gave Pethel due credit for +risking his own life, for having doubtless risked it--it and none +other--again and again in the course of his adventurous (and +abstemious) life by field and flood. I was even rather touched by +memory of his insistence last night on another glass of that water which +just MIGHT give him typhoid; rather touched by memory of his +unsaying that he "never" touched alcohol--he who, in point of fact, had to +be ALWAYS gambling on something or other. I gave him due +credit, too, for his devotion to his daughter. But his use of that devotion, +his cold use of it to secure for himself the utmost thrill of hazard, did +seem utterly abominable to me. + +And it was even more for the mother than for the daughter that I +was incensed. That daughter did not know him, did but innocently share +his damnable love of chances; but that wife had for years known him at +least as well as I knew him now. Here again I gave him credit for +wishing, though he didn't love her, to spare her what he could. That he +didn't love her I presumed from his indubitable willingness not to stake +her in this afternoon's game. That he never had loved her--had taken her +in his precocious youth simply as a gigantic chance against him, was +likely enough. So much the more credit to him for such consideration as +he showed her, though this was little enough. He could wish to save her +from being a looker-on at his game, but he could--he couldn't not--go on +playing. Assuredly she was right in deeming him at once the strongest +and the weakest of men. "Rather a nervous woman!" I remembered an +engraving that had hung in my room at Oxford, and in scores of other +rooms there: a presentment by Sir Marcus (then Mr.) Stone of a very +pretty young person in a Gainsborough hat, seated beneath an ancestral +elm, looking as though she were about to cry, and entitled "A Gambler's +Wife." Mrs. Pethel was not like that. Of her there were no engravings +for undergraduate hearts to melt at. But there was one man, certainly, +whose compassion was very much at her service. How was he going to +help her? + +I know not how many hair's-breadth escapes we may have had +while these thoughts passed through my brain. I had closed my eyes. So +preoccupied was I that but for the constant rush of air against my face I +might, for aught I knew, have been sitting ensconced in an armchair at +home. After a while I was aware that this rush had abated; I opened my +eyes to the old familiar streets of Rouen. We were to have tea at the +Hotel d'Angleterre. What was to be my line of action? Should I +take Pethel aside and say: "Swear to me, on your word of honor as a +gentleman, that you will never again touch the driving-gear, or whatever +you call it, of a motor-car. Otherwise, I shall expose you to the world. +Meanwhile, we shall return to Dieppe by train"? He might flush (for I +knew him capable of flushing) as he asked me to explain. And after? He +would laugh in my face. He would advise me not to go motoring any +more. He might even warn me not to go back to Dieppe in one of those +dangerous railway-trains. He might even urge me to wait until a nice +Bath chair had been sent out for me from England. + +I heard a voice (mine, alas!) saying brightly, "Well, here we are!" I +helped the ladies to descend. Tea was ordered. Pethel refused that +stimulant and had a glass of water. I had a liqueur brandy. It was +evident to me that tea meant much to Mrs. Pethel. She looked stronger +after her second cup, and younger after her third. Still, it was my duty to +help her if I could. While I talked and laughed, I did not forget that. But +what on earth was I to do? I am no hero. I hate to be ridiculous. I am +inveterately averse to any sort of fuss. Besides, how was I to be sure that +my own personal dread of the return journey hadn't something to do with +my intention of tackling Pethel? I rather thought it had. What this +woman would dare daily because she was a mother could not I dare +once? I reminded myself of this man's reputation for invariable luck. I +reminded myself that he was an extraordinarily skilful driver. To that +skill and luck I would pin my faith. + +What I seem to myself, do you ask of me? + But I answered your question a few lines back. Enough that my faith was +rewarded: we did arrive safely in Dieppe. I still marvel that we did. + +That evening, in the vestibule of the casino, Grierson came up to +me. + +"Seen Jimmy Pethel?" he asked. "He was asking for you. Wants to +see you particularly. He's in the baccarat-room, punting, winning hand +over fist, OF course. Said he'd seldom met a man he liked more +than you. Great character, what?" + +One is always glad to be liked, and I pleaded guilty to a moment's +gratification at the announcement that Pethel liked me. But I did not go +and seek him in the baccarat-room. A great character assuredly he was, +but of a kind with which (I say it at the risk of seeming priggish) I prefer +not to associate. + +Why he had particularly wanted to see me was made clear in a note +sent by him to my room early next morning. He wondered if I could be +induced to join them in their little tour. He hoped I wouldn't think it +great cheek, his asking me. He thought it might rather amuse me to +come. It would be a very great pleasure to his wife. He hoped I wouldn't +say no. Would I send a line by bearer? They would be starting at three +o'clock. He was mine sincerely. + +It was not too late to tackle him even now. Should I go round to his +hotel? I hesitated and--well, I told you at the outset that my last meeting +with him was on the morrow of my first. I forget what I wrote to him, +but am sure that the excuse I made for myself was a good and graceful +one, and that I sent my kindest regards to Mrs. Pethel. She had not (I am +sure of that, too) authorized her husband to say she would like me to +come with them. Else would not the thought of her, the pity of her, have +haunted me, as it did for a very long time. I do not know whether she is +still alive. No mention is made of her in the obituary notice which awoke +these memories in me. This notice I will, however, transcribe, because it +is, for all its crudeness of phraseology, rather interesting both as an echo +and as an amplification. Its title is "Death of Wealthy Aviator," and its +text is: + + +Wide-spread regret will be felt in Leicestershire at the tragic death +of Mr. James Pethel, who had long resided there and was very popular as +an all-round sportsman. In recent years he had been much interested in +aviation, and had had a private aerodrome erected on his property. +Yesterday afternoon he fell down dead quite suddenly as he was +returning to his house, apparently in his usual health and spirits, after +descending from a short flight which despite a strong wind he had made +on a new type of aeroplane, and on which he was accompanied by +his married daughter and her infant son. It is not expected that an inquest +will be necessary, as his physician, Dr. Saunders, has certified death to be +due to heart-disease, from which, it appears, the deceased gentleman had +been suffering for many years. Dr. Saunders adds that he had repeatedly +warned deceased that any strain on the nervous system might prove fatal. + + +Thus--for I presume that his ailment had its origin in his +habits--James Pethel did not, despite that merely pensive look of his, live +his life with impunity. And by reason of that life he died. As for the +manner of his death, enough that he did die. Let not our hearts be vexed +that his great luck was with him to the end. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of James Pethel, by Max Beerbohm + + + + + +Note: I have closed contractions in the text; e.g., "does n't" has become +"doesn't" etc. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of James Pethel, by Max Beerbohm + diff --git a/old/pethl10.zip b/old/pethl10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f208f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/pethl10.zip |