Here Comes a Chopper Read Online Free PDF

but the laugh made, despite its harshness, a very encouraging sound. Moreover, he had a feeling that she knew what he was going to ask her. He plunged. ‘I was going to ask you—I thought you were going to tell me—why we’re here. I mean, I understand about the thirteen at table, but Dorothy and I—well, I’m rather interested in this very odd sort of ending to our day. You see, we began on a walking tour—at least,
I
did—and the man who’d promised to meet me couldn’t come.’
    He gave a detailed account of his day, and mentioned the superstitions of the morning. Several people listened appreciatively, laughed, and glanced once or twice at Dorothy.
    ‘We saw you coming,’ said one, ‘and Bugle was sent to the door to lure you in. Lady Catherine could not bear to sit down thirteen at table. She—this is not her house, but she acts as hostess for hercousin, this Mr Lingfield who is missing—she lives here six months of the year. If Mr Lingfield had been present, we should have been thirteen at table, without you two, and that would have been unsatisfactory. As it is, it is very fortunate that you were able to come along.’
    ‘It is indeed,’ said the woman on Roger’s left. She spoke drily.
    ‘Well, we didn’t so much come along,’ said Roger, grinning. ‘We were walking, and had lost our way.’
    ‘Do you mean to say you’ve been kidnapped?’ She turned to her neighbour, a young man of about Roger’s age, and said, loudly enough for the majority of those at table to hear, ‘Do you hear that, Humphrey Bookham? The last two guests have been kidnapped.’
    ‘Kidnapped? Yes, I know. I had my orders, and Bugle carried them out.’ He leaned across her and grinned at Roger. ‘Good old Bugle! Stout fellow, that fellow.’
    From the foot of the table Captain Ranmore looked at him and nodded.
    ‘You’ve done us proud, my dear Humphrey. I congratulate you on your perspicacity. You tutors are always sly dogs!’
    ‘Perspicacity and slyness are not the same thing,’ said Humphrey Bookham, looking annoyed and speaking sharply. He was the young man who had handed Dorothy her glass of sherry.
    ‘I wonder what old Piggie thinks of it all?’ said Captain Ranmore in an undertone. He indicatedthe woman on his right. She sat between him and the tutor, and, so far, had made no remark at the table. She was a thick-set, dark and heavy woman in spectacles. She made no conversation, and seemed anxious only to get on with her dinner. This was not particularly surprising, for the food was remarkably good. Barley cream soup (correctly made with butter, egg and sherry), halibut, braised sweetbreads with mushrooms, roast chicken, cauliflower, creamed potatoes, Christmas pudding and, at the end, ice-cream, made up a substantial, and, to most English people, a highly desirable meal. ‘And Bugle, of course,’ he added.
    ‘Bugle?’ said Dorothy. ‘Isn’t that——’
    ‘The butler. I expect he let you in. Sort of secretive, selective, rather seal-like cove. And Mrs Bradley, of course. Although I believe she was privy to the idea. Very much in young George’s confidence, you know, although she only arrived so very recently. Still, she fastened on George like a leech. A very fly old party, I believe.’
    ‘Oh, yes? You know, the whole thing is rather a mystery. We were walking, Roger and I, and lost our way——’
    ‘I know. We spied on you. We willed you to come to the door. Without you, we might have been thirteen at table. That, to my aunt, is an unthinkable state of affairs. It is not so much that she herself is superstitious—she is, of course—but that among our guests we have people who would have refused to sit down at all rather than risk being the first of thirteen to rise.’
    ‘Yes, I see. I’m superstitious myself.’
    ‘Really? I suppose most people are, when one comes to think. Hackhurst was one of the first. Fellow sitting next to my aunt on the right. Poet, you know. He declared—a lie,