Miss Mapp by E. F. Benson (best free ebook reader for pc .TXT) 📗

deceived and hoodwinked. Major Benjy never went to bed early at all: on alternate nights he went and sat with Captain Puffin. And Captain Puffin, she could not but tell herself, sat up on the other set of alternate nights with the Major, for it had not escaped her observation that when the Major seemed to be sitting up, the Captain seemed to have gone to bed. Instantly, with strong conviction, she suspected orgies. It remained to be seen (and she would remain to see it) to what hour these orgies were kept up.

About eleven o’clock a little mist had begun to form in the street, obscuring the complete clarity of her view, but through it there still shone the light from behind Captain Puffin’s red blind, and the mist was not so thick as to be able wholly to obscure the figure of Major Flint when he should pass below the gas lamp again into his house. But no such figure passed. Did he then work at his diaries every evening? And what price, to put it vulgarly, Roman roads?

Every moment her sense of being deceived grew blacker, and every moment her curiosity as to what they were doing became more unbearable. After a spasm of tactical thought she glided back into her house from the garden-room, and, taking an envelope in her hand, so that she might, if detected, say that she was going down to the letter-box at the corner to catch the early post, she[194] unbolted her door and let herself out. She crossed the street and tip-toed along the pavement to where the red light from Captain Puffin’s window shone like a blurred danger-signal through the mist.

From inside came a loud duet of familiar voices: sometimes they spoke singly, sometimes together. But she could not catch the words: they sounded blurred and indistinct, and she told herself that she was very glad that she could not hear what they said, for that would have seemed like eaves-dropping. The voices sounded angry. Was there another duel pending? And what was it about this time?

Quite suddenly, from so close at hand that she positively leaped off the pavement into the middle of the road, the door was thrown open and the duet, louder than ever, streamed out into the street. Major Benjy bounced out on to the threshold, and stumbled down the two steps that led from the door.

“Tell you it was a worm-cast,” he bellowed. “Think I don’t know a worm-cast when I see a worm-cast?”

Suddenly his tone changed: this was getting too near a quarrel.

“Well, good-night, old fellow,” he said. “Jolly evening.”

He turned and saw, veiled and indistinct in the mist, the female figure in the roadway. Undying coquetry, as Mr. Stevenson so finely remarked, awoke, for the topic preceding the worm-cast had been “the sex.”

“Bless me,” he crowed, “if there isn’t an unprotected lady all ’lone here in the dark, and lost in the fog. ’Llow me to ’scort you home, madam. Lemme introduce myself and friend—Major Flint, that’s me, and my friend Captain Puffin.”

[195] He put up his hand and whispered an aside to Miss Mapp: “Revolutionized the theory of navigation.”

Major Benjy was certainly rather gay and rather indistinct, but his polite gallantry could not fail to be attractive. It was naughty of him to have said that he went to bed early on alternate nights, but really… Still, it might be better to slip away unrecognized, and, thinking it would be nice to scriggle by him and disappear in the mist, she made a tactical error in her scriggling, for she scriggled full into the light that streamed from the open door where Captain Puffin was standing.

He gave a shrill laugh.

“Why, it’s Miss Mapp,” he said in his high falsetto. “Blow me, if it isn’t our mutual friend Miss Mapp. What a ’strordinary coincidence.”

Miss Mapp put on her most winning smile. To be dignified and at the same time pleasant was the proper way to deal with this situation. Gentlemen often had a glass of grog when they thought the ladies had gone upstairs. That was how, for the moment, she summed things up.

“Good evening,” she said. “I was just going down to the pillar-box to post a letter,” and she exhibited her envelope. But it dropped out of her hand, and the Major picked it up for her.

“I’ll post it for you,” he said very pleasantly. “Save you the trouble. Insist on it. Why, there’s no stamp on it! Why, there’s no address on it! I say, Puffie, here’s a letter with no address on it. Forgotten the address, Miss Mapp? Think they’ll remember it at the post office? Well, that’s one of the mos’ comic things I ever came across. An, an anonymous letter, eh?”

The night air began to have a most unfortunate effect[196] on Puffin. When he came out it would have been quite unfair to have described him as drunk. He was no more than gay and ready to go to bed. Now he became portentously solemn, as the cold mist began to do its deadly work.

“A letter,” he said impressively, “without an address is an uncommonly dangerous thing. Hic! Can’t tell into whose hands it may fall. I would sooner go ’bout with a loaded pistol than with a letter without any address. Send it to the bank for safety. Send for the police. Follow my advice and send for the p’lice. Police!”

Miss Mapp’s penetrating mind instantly perceived that that dreadful Captain Puffin was drunk, and she promised herself that Tilling should ring with the tale of his excesses to-morrow. But Major Benjy, whom, if she mistook not, Captain Puffin had been trying, with perhaps some small success, to lead astray, was a gallant gentleman still, and she conceived the brilliant but madly mistaken idea of throwing herself on his protection.

“Major Benjy,” she said, “I will ask you to take me home. Captain Puffin has had too much to drink——”

“Woz that?” asked Captain Puffin, with an air of great interest.

Miss Mapp abandoned dignity and pleasantness, and lost her temper.

“I said you were drunk,” she said with great distinctness. “Major Benjy, will you——”

Captain Puffin came carefully down the two steps from the door on to the pavement.

“Look here,” he said, “this all needs ’splanation. You say I’m drunk, do you? Well, I say you’re drunk, going out like this in mill’ of the night to post letter with no ’dress on it. Shamed of yourself, mill’aged woman going[197] out in the mill’ of the night in the mill’ of Tilling. Very shocking thing. What do you say, Major?”

Major Benjy drew himself up to his full height, and put on his hat in order to take it off to Miss Mapp.

“My fren’ Cap’n Puffin,” he said, “is a man of strictly ’stemious habits. Boys together. Very serious thing to call a man of my fren’s character drunk. If you call him drunk, why shouldn’t he call you drunk? Can’t take away man’s character like that.”

“Abso——” began Captain Puffin. Then he stopped and pulled himself together.

“Absolooly,” he said without a hitch.

“Tilling shall hear of this to-morrow,” said Miss Mapp, shivering with rage and sea-mist.

Captain Puffin came a step closer.

“Now I’ll tell you what it is, Miss Mapp,” he said. “If you dare to say that I was drunk, Major and I, my fren’ the Major and I will say you were drunk. Perhaps you think my fren’ the Major’s drunk too. But sure’s I live, I’ll say we were taking lil’ walk in the moonlight and found you trying to post a letter with no ’dress on it, and couldn’t find the slit to put it in. But ’slong as you say nothing, I say nothing. Can’t say fairer than that. Liberal terms. Mutual Protection Society. Your lips sealed, our lips sealed. Strictly private. All trespassers will be prosecuted. By order. Hic!”

Miss Mapp felt that Major Benjy ought instantly to have challenged his ignoble friend to another duel for this insolent suggestion, but he did nothing of the kind, and his silence, which had some awful quality of consent about it, chilled her mind, even as the sea-mist, now thick and cold, made her certain that her nose was turning red. She still boiled with rage, but her mind grew cold with[198] odious apprehensions: she was like an ice-pudding with scalding sauce… There they all stood, veiled in vapours, and outlined by the red light that streamed from the still-open door of the intoxicated Puffin, getting colder every moment.

“Yessorno,” said Puffin, with chattering teeth.

Bitter as it was to accept those outrageous terms, there really seemed, without the Major’s support, to be no way out of it.

“Yes,” said Miss Mapp.

Puffin gave a loud crow.

“The ayes have it, Major,” he said. “So we’re all frens again. Goonight everybody.”

Miss Mapp let herself into her house in an agony of mortification. She could scarcely realize that her little expedition, undertaken with so much ardent and earnest curiosity only a quarter of an hour ago, had ended in so deplorable a surfeit of sensation. She had gone out in obedience to an innocent and, indeed, laudable desire to ascertain how Major Benjy spent those evenings on which he had deceived her into imagining that, owing to her influence, he had gone ever so early to bed, only to find that he sat up ever so late and that she was fettered by a promise not to breathe to a soul a single word about the depravity of Captain Puffin, on pain of being herself accused out of the mouth of two witnesses of being equally depraved herself. More wounding yet was the part played by her Major Benjy in these odious transactions, and it was only possible to conclude that he put a higher value on his fellowship with his degraded friend than on chivalry itself… And what did his silence imply? Probably it was a defensive one; he imagined that he,[199] too, would be included in the stories that Miss Mapp proposed to sow broadcast upon the fruitful fields of Tilling, and, indeed, when she called to mind his bellowing about worm-casts, his general instability of speech and equilibrium, she told herself that he had ample cause for such a supposition. He, when his lights were out, was abetting, assisting and perhaps joining Captain Puffin. When his window was alight on alternate nights she made no doubt now that Captain Puffin was performing a similar rôle. This had been going on for weeks under her very nose, without her having the smallest suspicion of it.

Humiliated by all that had happened, and flattened in her own estimation by the sense of her blindness, she penetrated to the kitchen and lit a gas-ring to make herself some hot cocoa, which would at least comfort her physical chatterings. There was a letter for Withers, slipped sideways into its envelope, on the kitchen table, and mechanically she opened and read it by the bluish flame of the burner. She had always suspected Withers of having a young man, and here was proof of it. But that he should be Mr. Hopkins of the fish-shop!

There is known to medical science a pleasant device known as a counter-irritant. If the patient has an aching and rheumatic joint he is counselled to put some hot burning application on the skin, which smarts so agonizingly that the ache is quite extinguished. Metaphorically, Mr. Hopkins was thermogene to Miss Mapp’s outraged and aching consciousness, and the smart occasioned by the knowledge that Withers must have encouraged Mr. Hopkins (else he could scarcely have written a letter so familiar and amorous), and thus be contemplating matrimony, relieved the aching humiliation of all that had happened in the sea-mist. It shed a new and lurid light on Withers,[200] it made her mistress feel that she had nourished a serpent in her bosom, to think that Withers was contemplating so odious an act of selfishness as matrimony. It would be necessary to find a new parlour-maid, and all the trouble connected with that would not nearly be compensated for by being able to buy fish at a lower rate. That was the least that Withers could do for her, to insist that Mr. Hopkins should let her have dabs and plaice exceptionally cheap. And ought she to tell Withers that she had seen Mr. Hopkins … no, that was impossible: she must write it, if she decided (for Withers’ sake) to make this fell communication.

Miss Mapp turned and tossed on her uneasy bed, and her mind went back to the Major and the Captain and that fiasco in the fog. Of course she was perfectly at liberty (having made her promise under practical compulsion) to tell everybody in Tilling what had occurred, trusting to the chivalry of the men not to carry out their counter threat, but looking at the matter quite dispassionately,