CHAPTER VI
Sue stared at him, bewildered.
"Broken off the engagement?"
"Broken off the engagement."
In moments of stress the foolish question is always the one that comes uppermost in the mind.
"Are you sure?"
Hugo emitted a sound which resembled the bursting of a paper bag. He would have said himself, if asked, that he was laughing mirthlessly.
"Sure? Not much doubt about it."
"But why?"
"She knows all."
"All what?"
"Everything, you poor fish," said Hugo, forgetting in a strong man's agony the polish of the Carmodys. "She's found out that I took you to dinner last night."
"What!"
"She has."
"But how?"
The paper bag exploded again. A look of intense bitterness came into Hugo's face.
"If ever I meet that slimy, slinking, marcelle-waved by-product Pilbeam again," he said, "let him commend his soul to God! If he has time," he added.
He took the brandy-and-soda from the waiter and eyed Sue dully.
"Anything on similar lines for you?"
"No, thanks."
"Just as you like. It's not easy for a man in my position to realize," said Hugo, drinking deeply, "that refusing a brandy-and-soda is possible. I shouldn't have said, offhand, that it could be done."
Sue was a warm-hearted girl. In the tragedy of this announcement she had almost forgotten that she had troubles herself.
"Tell me all about it, Hugo."
He put down the empty glass.
"I came up from Blandings yesterday," he said, "to interview the Argus Enquiry Agency on the subject of sending a man down to investigate the theft of Lord Emsworth's pig."
Sue would have liked to hear more about this pig, but she knew that this was no time for questions.
"I went to the Argus and saw this wen Pilbeam, who runs it."
Again Sue would have liked to speak. Once more she refrained. She felt as if she were at a sick-bed, hearing a dying man's last words. On such occasions one does not interrupt.
"Meanwhile," proceeded Hugo tonelessly, "Millicent, suspecting—and I am surprised at her having a mind like that; I always looked on her as a pure, white soul—suspecting that I might be up to something in London, got the Argus on the long-distance telephone and told them to follow my movements and report to her. And, apparently, just before she called me up, she had been talking to them on the wire and getting their statement. All this she revealed to me in short, burning sentences, and then she said that if I thought we were still engaged I could have three more guesses. But, to save me trouble, she would tell me the right answer—viz.: No wedding bells for me. And to think," said Hugo, picking up the glass and putting it down again, after inspection, with a hurt and disappointed look, "that I actually rallied this growth Pilbeam on the subject of following people and reporting on their movements. Yes, I assure you. Rallied him blithely. Just as I was leaving his office we kidded merrily back and forth. And then I went out into the world, happy and care-free, little knowing that my every step was dogged by a blasted bloodhound. Well, all I can say is that, if Ronnie wants this Pilbeam's gore, and I gather that he does, he will jolly well have to wait till I've helped myself."
Sue, womanlike, blamed the woman.
"I don't think Millicent can be a very nice girl," she said primly.
"An angel," said Hugo. "Always was. Celebrated for it. I don't blame her."
"I do."
"I don't."
"I do."
"Well, have it your own way," said Hugo handsomely. He beckoned to the waiter. "Another of the same, please."
"This settles it," said Sue.
Her eyes were sparkling. Her chin had a resolute tilt.
"Settles what?"
"While you were at the telephone, I had an idea."
"I have had ideas in my time," said Hugo. "Many of them. At the moment I have but one. To get within arm's length of the yam Pilbeam and twist his greasy neck till it comes apart in my hands. 'What do you do here?' I said. 'Measure footprints?' 'We follow people and report on their movements,' said he. 'Ha-ha!' I laughed carelessly. 'Ha-ha!' laughed he. General mirth and jollity. And all the while——"
"Hugo, will you listen?"
"And this is the bitter thought that now strikes me. What chance have I of scooping out the man's inside with my bare hands? I've got to go back to Blandings on the two-fifteen or I lose my job. Leaving him unscathed in his bally lair, chuckling over my downfall and following some other poor devil's movements."
"Hugo!"
The broken man passed a weary hand over his forehead.
"You spoke?"
"I've been speaking for the last ten minutes, only you won't listen."
"Say on," said Hugo listlessly, starting on the second restorative.
"Have you ever heard of a Miss Schoonmaker?"
"I seem to know the name. Who is she?"
"Me."
Hugo lowered his glass, pained.
"Don't talk drip to a broken-hearted man," he begged. "What do you mean?"
"When Ronnie was driving me in his car we met Lady Constance Keeble."
"A blister," said Hugo. "Always was. Generally admitted all over Shropshire."
"She thought I was this Miss Schoonmaker."
"Why?"
"Because Ronnie said I was."
Hugo sighed hopelessly.
"Complex. Complex. My God, how complex!"
"It was quite simple and natural. Ronnie had just been telling me about this girl—how he had met her at Biarritz and that she was coming to Blandings, and so on, and when he saw Lady Constance looking at me with frightful suspicion it suddenly occurred to him to say that I was her."
"That you were Lady Constance?"
"No, idiot. Miss Schoonmaker. And now I'm going to wire her—Lady Constance, not Miss Schoonmaker, in case you were going to ask—saying that I'm coming to Blandings right away."
"Pretending to be this Miss Schoonmaker?"
"Yes."
Hugo shook his head.
"Imposs."
"Why?"
"Absolutely out of the q."
"Why? Lady Constance is expecting me. Do be sensible."
"I'm being sensible all right. But somebody is gibbering and, naming no names, it's you. Don't you realize that, just as you reach the front door, this Miss Schoonmaker will arrive in person, dishing the whole thing?"
"No, she won't."
"Why won't she?"
"Because Ronnie sent her a telegram, in Lady Constance's name, saying that there's scarlet fever or something at Blandings and she wasn't to come."
Hugo's air of the superior critic fell from him like a garment. He sat up in his chair. So moved was he that he spilled his brandy-and-soda and did not give it so much as a look of regret. He let it soak into the carpet unheeded.
"Sue!"
"Once I'm at Blandings I shall be able to see Ronnie and make him be sensible."
"That's right."
"And then you'll be able to tell Millicent that there couldn't have been much harm in my being out with you last night because I'm engaged to Ronnie."
"That's right, too."
"Can you see any flaws?"
"Not a flaw."
"I suppose, as a matter of fact, you'll give the whole thing away in the first five minutes by calling me Sue."
Hugo waved an arm buoyantly.
"Don't give the possibility another thought," he said. "If I do I'll cover it up adroitly by saying I meant 'Schoo.' Short for Schoonmaker. And now go and send her another telegram. Keep on sending telegrams. Leave nothing to chance. Send a dozen and pitch it strong. Say that Blandings Castle is ravaged with disease. Not merely scarlet fever. Scarlet feverandmumps. Not to mention housemaid's knee, diabetes, measles, shingles, and the botts. We're onto a big thing, my Susan. Let us push it along."