Pageants -- Fiction; Villages -- England -- Fiction
Jimmy listened to all this without comment. The picture of the lugger
did not interest him. He had finished shaving and was washing his
face. Hinton went on to explain at some length why he and Linker were
anxious to secure Lord Colavon's support for the pageant. They had got
a bishop, a couple of leading politicians, a judge and a doctor with a
title. They now wanted to reach another section of the public, sporting
people and theatrical people. They hoped that Lord Colavon, if he
supported the pageant, would interest his friends in it.
"I see," said Jimmy, drying his face. "But what I want to know is,
what do I get out of it? Uncle Evie wins an election. Your friend
Linker scoops in a profit for costumes. You gratify your passion for
archæology. But where do I come in?"
"I was in hopes," said Hinton, rather feebly, "that your lordship might
find it amusing. Mrs. Eames is a very remarkable lady. I feel convinced
that you will enjoy meeting Mrs. Eames."
"Hardly good enough, Hinton. I'm sure Mrs. Eames is all you say. But
I have some respect for the Church, even if you haven't, and I never
flirt with parsons' wives."
Having finished washing he began to dress. Hinton offered him all kinds
of unnecessary assistance and for a while nothing more was said. At
last, fully clothed, except for his coat and waistcoat, Jimmy sat down
and lit a cigarette.
"Now, Hinton," he said, "you've told me a lot about this pageant, and
it's only fair that I should tell you something. Sit down and listen to
me for a minute. Smoke if you like."
Hinton preferred to stand--or said he did--and refused the offer of a
cigarette. Jimmy began:
"My idea of the day of your pageant is something like this. Crowds on
the shore. Village people dressed up as assistant smugglers waiting
for the arrival of the lugger. Everybody anxiously peering out to sea.
Distinguished visitors in the reserved seats scanning the horizon with
telescopes. Uncle Evie with a telescope. The bishop with binoculars.
Other eminent men with field glasses. Women asking stupid questions in
order to keep conversation going. Everybody jumping with excitement and
expectation till the lugger comes in sight. Then cheers. Loud cheers.
That's about the programme so far, isn't it, Hinton?"
"That, my lord, is very much what we hope to accomplish."
"Exactly. But before your lugger comes in sight she must have been
somewhere out of sight. That's only common sense. You follow me so
far."
"Certainly, my lord, out of sight. Certainly."
"Very well. Where was she before she came into sight? Tell me that?"
"I'm not quite sure that I catch your lordship's meaning."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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