The Club of Queer TradesChesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith)
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The Club of Queer Trades
Chesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith)
Detective and mystery stories, English; Private investigators -- England -- London -- Fiction
“I redoubled my efforts. I had not been brought up to this sort of
thing; but I believe I eclipsed myself. Words that I did not know I had
ever heard of seemed to come pouring out of my open mouth.
“'When we get you past,' whispered Bill, 'you'll howl louder; you'll
howl louder when we're burning your feet off.'
“I screamed in my terror those awful songs of joy. In all the nightmares
that men have ever dreamed, there has never been anything so blighting
and horrible as the faces of those five men, looking out of their
poke-bonnets; the figures of district visitors with the faces of devils.
I cannot think there is anything so heart-breaking in hell.
“For a sickening instant I thought that the bustle of my companions
and the perfect respectability of all our dresses would overcome the
policeman and induce him to let us pass. He wavered, so far as one
can describe anything so solid as a policeman as wavering. I lurched
suddenly forward and ran my head into his chest, calling out (if I
remember correctly), 'Oh, crikey, blimey, Bill.' It was at that moment
that I remembered most dearly that I was the Vicar of Chuntsey, in
Essex.
“My desperate coup saved me. The policeman had me hard by the back of
the neck.
“'You come along with me,' he began, but Bill cut in with his perfect
imitation of a lady's finnicking voice.
“'Oh, pray, constable, don't make a disturbance with our poor friend. We
will get her quietly home. She does drink too much, but she is quite a
lady--only eccentric.'
“'She butted me in the stomach,' said the policeman briefly.
“'Eccentricities of genius,' said Sam earnestly.
“'Pray let me take her home,' reiterated Bill, in the resumed character
of Miss James, 'she wants looking after.' 'She does,' said the
policeman, 'but I'll look after her.'
“'That's no good,' cried Bill feverishly. 'She wants her friends. She
wants a particular medicine we've got.'
“'Yes,' assented Miss Mowbray, with excitement, 'no other medicine any
good, constable. Complaint quite unique.'
“'I'm all righ'. Cutchy, cutchy, coo!' remarked, to his eternal shame,
the Vicar of Chuntsey.
“'Look here, ladies,' said the constable sternly, 'I don't like the
eccentricity of your friend, and I don't like 'er songs, or 'er 'ead in
my stomach. And now I come to think of it, I don't like the looks of you.
I've seen many as quiet dressed as you as was wrong 'uns. Who are you?'
“'We've not our cards with us,' said Miss Mowbray, with indescribable
dignity. 'Nor do we see why we should be insulted by any Jack-in-office
who chooses to be rude to ladies, when he is paid to protect them. If
you choose to take advantage of the weakness of our unfortunate friend,
no doubt you are legally entitled to take her. But if you fancy you have
any legal right to bully us, you will find yourself in the wrong box.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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