"At last," said a familiar voice. "I wouldn't have missed those stairs
for anything. Think of the fools who've trodden them before." The next
moment Berry, followed by Mr. Lewis, made his appearance. "Why, here are
our little playmates." He advanced beaming. "Don't be shy any longer.
And what a storied retreat you have selected!" He indicated the building
with a sweep of his arm. "You know, originally this was a helter-skelter
lighthouse, but Henry the Eighth lost his mat half-way down the chute,
and had it closed down in revenge. There was a great deal of feeling
about it. Especially on the part of the King. He hunted from a litter
for months."
I addressed myself to Miss Deriot.
"Wonderfully well-informed, isn't he? Scratch the buffoon and you get
the charlatan."
Berry turned to Mr. Lewis.
"Much of my crowded life," he said, "has been devoted to research. I am,
as it were, a crystal fount of knowledge. I beg that you will bathe in
me."
Not knowing exactly what reply to make to this offer, Mr. Lewis laughed
heartily, while Agatha, overcome with emotion, hurriedly turned away and
stared over the roofs of Oxford, shaking with long spasms of laughter.
Stifling a desire to join her, I crossed to Mr. Lewis and engaged him in
reasonable conversation, while Berry seized the opportunity of
indicating to Agatha the main points of the city, accompanying his
gesticulations with a series of inaudible remarks, which, to judge from
their reception, concerned Mr. Lewis more nearly than Oxford, and were
of a grotesque character. I was just leading up to the question of fuel,
when a cry from my brother-in-law interrupted me.
"My hag," he announced, "is below. With a notorious winebibber. Where
are the women police?"
The next moment he had slid an arm through Agatha's and had begun to
descend. I followed with Mr. Lewis....
I pass over the meeting in the street below, which I was just in time to
witness. Berry's swoop was so sudden that his prey appeared to realize
that the game was up, and made no attempt to fly. It was almost piteous.
An apprehension of certain embarrassment to come extinguished the
instant impulse to shriek with laughter which was written plain upon
their faces, and my sister gave one wild glance about her before turning
to face the delinquent.
As I came up she addressed him.
"Berry, I appeal to you to take off that hat."
"My tongue," was the reply, "I mean my hands, are clean. Bereft of my
own headgear, I had no choice. Some absent-minded priest is now
scandalizing his parishioners by parading in a pearl-grey Homburg which
is four sizes too big for him, while I--would you have me go naked in
the streets?"
Here the Vice-Chancellor passed, preceded by his Bedels with staves
reversed, and Berry uncovered and fell upon his knees. Surprised by the
unwonted attention, the dignitary raised his mortar-board and bowed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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