Next morning, as I was shaving, I happened to glance out of the window, and there I saw the boat pulling out, with Danny at the oars, Rymer in the bow, and two vast and crazy contraptions swaying on the stern. I called out; Rymer waved his hand, and they went on toward the island.
That evening, as I approached the hotel, I saw the boat pulled up on the beach, and hurried in to find Rymer. He was sitting in the bar, with a big whiskey in front of him, looking very grim. What happened? said I.
Don't ask me what happened, said he curtly. Then, relenting, I'll tell you, said he. I'm afraid that little lady's out to make a monkey of me, and I don't like it.
What did she do? I asked.
I had Danny land me on that island, said he, and pull out and wait off shore so as not to crowd her. I fixed up my cages and my baits, and I got behind a rock, and I waited awhile. Then I saw those birds coming along, swooping and diving at top speed I reckon it was a marvellous number and the old hen in the middle fluttering her damnedest to keep up with them. When they saw the traps, they slowed up. I could tell she was interested.
Go on, said I.
Well, said he, they visited the small trap first, and the top left-hand dove flew down and picked up bits of the corn and fed all the others.
I'll be damned! said I.
Then, said he, they moved over to where the big cage was, and the dexter dove flew in and picked up the wristwatch in its beak, and she did a sort of humoresque dance with it, and threw it over the cliff into the sea in front of my eyes. What do you think of that?
That's pretty tough, I said.
It's downright inconsiderate! said he, banging on the table. And if that dame thinks she's going to get away with it with Thomas P. Rymer, well Landlord, I want another highball.
Why don't you just give her the air? said I.
I'd have given her the world, said he. And I would yet. But she's gotta see reason. I'll make her listen to me somehow. Let me get her within reach of my arms, that's all! Landlord, I'll have a bottle of this hooch up in my room, I reckon. I gotta do a bit of thinking. Good night, pal. I'm no company. She's roused up the old cave man in me, that's how it is. I'm not claiming to be any sort of sheik, but this little Irish wonder lady's gotta learn she can't make a monkey of a straightforward American business man. Good night!
Most of the night I heard him tramping up and down his room. It was pretty late when I got to sleep, and when I did I slept heavily and woke late. I went downstairs and looked about for my friend Where's Mr. Rymer? said I to Doyle.
God alone knows, said he. Were you not hearing the great cry he gave in the grey of the dawn?
What? said I.
I woke up, said Doyle, and heard him muttering. Suddenly he lets a yell out of him: 'Marriage licence! That'll get her!' And then he went silent entirely, and I dropped off to sleep again. And when I came down this morning, he was missing. And his car was missing. There was a note on the bar here: 'Back in a few days.'
He's gone to Galway, said I, to get his confounded licence.
Like enough, said Doyle. It's a great affliction, to be sure.
Sure enough, after a few days I was wakened in the early morning by the sound of a car driving up. I looked out in the half-light and recognized the impressive lines of Rymer's huge American roadster. At breakfast time I hurried downstairs, eager to have a word with him.
I met Doyle in the passage. So Mr. Rymer's come back? I said.
He's come, said Doyle. And he's gone.
Gone? Where?
It must be to the island, said Doyle. He must have drove up in the night and took the boat out right away. I've sent Danny for the loan of Murphy's boat from the fishing lodge. I told him to row straight out to the island, to see what's happened to the poor unfortunate gentleman.
There were no field glasses in the place. We waited impatiently till Danny came in sight, rowing the borrowed boat and towing the other. We saw that Danny was alone.
Did you not find him? shouted Doyle.
Never the hide nor hair of him, said Danny, making fast the painter. Sure it was one of the Good People he was after, right enough. The poor man has vanished entirely.
Could he have fallen over a cliff? said I.
I see'd the pigeons, said Danny, shaking his head. Four of 'em I saw, sitting each alone in a bush, just round the place we first saw them, and the creatures were mourning.
And the fifth? said I.
The misfortunate bird was lying on the grass in the middle, said Danny, with its neck wrung.
THE RIGHT SIDE
A young man, who was looking extremely pale, walked to the middle of Westminster Bridge and clambered onto the parapet. A swarthy gentleman, some years his senior, in evening dress, with dark red carnation, Inverness cape, monocle, and short imperial, appeared as if from nowhere, and had him by the ankle.
Let me go, damn you! muttered the would-be suicide, with a tug and a kick.
Get down, and walk beside me, said the stranger, or that policeman, who has already taken a step or two in our direction, will most certainly run you in. Let us pretend to be two friends, one of whom wished for a thrill, while the other was anxious that he should not tumble over.
The young man, who was so eager to be in the Thames, had a great aversion to being in prison. Accordingly he fell into step with the stranger, and, smiling (for now they were just passing the bobby), Damn and blast you! he said. Why can't you mind your own silly business?
But, my dear Philip Westwick, replied the other, I regard you as very much my business.
Who may you be? cried the young man impatiently. I don't know you. How did you get hold of my name?
It came into my mind, said his companion, just half an hour ago, when first you formed your rash resolution.
I don't know how that can be, said Philip. Nor do I care.
You lovers, said his companion, are surprised by nothing, except first that your mistresses should fancy you, and next, that they should fancy someone else.
How do you know, cried our poor Philip, that it was over that sort of thing?
I know that, and much more, equally ridiculous, replied the other. What would you say if I reminded you that no less than a month ago, when you considered yourself in Heaven, and were, in point of fact, in your Millicent's arms, you discerned something of the essence of ennui in the nape of her neck, and actually wished her transformed into the little brunette who serves in a tea-shop in Bond Street? And now you are on the brink of suicide because your Millicent has left you, though the little brunette is, for all you know, in Bond Street still. What do you say to that?
You seem to be unaware, said Philip, that what a man wishes when he is in his girl's arms, and what he wishes when someone else is probably there, are two very different things. Otherwise, I admit your knowledge is devilish uncanny.
That is only natural, replied the other with a complacent smile, from which Philip immediately realized that he was in the company of none other than the Devil himself.
What are you up to? he demanded, drawing back a little.
The Devil, with a look of great benevolence, offered him a cigarette.
I suppose it's not doped? inquired Philip sniffing at it suspiciously.
Oh, come! said the Devil with a sneer. Do you think I need resort to such measures as that to overcome you? I have reason on my side. Will you have a light? Without pausing for a reply, he extended his middle finger, the tip of which immediately ignited the cigarette.