The Man Upstairs and Other StoriesWodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
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The Man Upstairs and Other Stories
Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
Humorous stories, English
'Might I have a word, sir, if you are at leisure?'
'Well, Keggs?'
'Miss Elsa, sir.'
'Yes?'
Kegg's voice took on a sympathetic softness.
'It was not my place, sir, to make any remark while in the dining-room,
but I could not 'elp but hoverhear the conversation. I gathered from
remarks that was passed that you was somewhat hat a loss to account for
Miss Elsa's non-appearance, sir.'
Mr Keith laughed shortly.
'You gathered that, eh?'
Keggs bowed.
'I think, sir, that possibly I may be hable to throw light on the
matter.'
'What!' cried Mr Keith. 'Great Scott, man! then why didn't you say so
at the time? Where is she?'
'It was not my place, sir, to henter into the conversation of the
dinner-table,' said the butler, with a touch of reproof. 'If I might
speak now, sir?'
Mr Keith clutched at his forehead.
'Heavens above! Do you want a signed permit to tell me where my
daughter is? Get on, man, get on!'
'I think it 'ighly possible, sir, that Miss Elsa and Mr Barstowe may be
on the hisland in the lake, sir.' About half a mile from the house was
a picturesque strip of water, some fifteen hundred yards in width and a
little less in length, in the centre of which stood a small and densely
wooded island. It was a favourite haunt of visitors at the house when
there was nothing else to engage their attention, but during the past
week, with shooting to fill up the days, it had been neglected.
'On the island?' said Mr Keith. 'What put that idea into your head?'
'I 'appened to be rowing on the lake this morning, sir. I frequently
row of a morning, sir, when there are no duties to detain me in the
'ouse. I find the hexercise hadmirable for the 'ealth. I walk briskly
to the boat-'ouse, and--'
'Yes, yes. I don't want a schedule of your daily exercises. Cut out the
athletic reminiscences and come to the point.'
'As I was rowing on the lake this morning, sir, I 'appened to see a
boat 'itched up to a tree on the hisland. I think that possibly Miss
Elsa and Mr Barstowe might 'ave taken a row out there. Mr Barstowe
would wish to see the hisland, sir, bein' romantic.'
'But you say you saw the boat there this morning?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, it doesn't take all day to explore a small island. What's kept
them all this while?'
'It is possible, sir, that the rope might not have 'eld. Mr Barstowe,
if I might say so, sir, is one of those himpetuous literary pussons,
and possibly he homitted to see that the knot was hadequately tied.
Or'--his eye, grave and inscrutable, rested for a moment on
Martin's--'some party might 'ave come along and huntied it a-puppus.'
'Untied it on purpose?' said Mr Keith. 'What on earth for?'
Keggs shook his head deprecatingly, as one who, realizing his
limitations, declines to attempt to probe the hidden sources of human
actions.
'I thought it right, sir, to let you know,' he said.
'Right? I should say so. If Elsa has been kept starving all day on that
island by that long-haired--Here, come along, Martin.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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