The Deeds of the Disturber Read Online Free PDF Page B

my brother—my brother James, whom I had not seen for several years (because I had taken considerable pains to avoid him).
    It was no wonder I had not recognized him immediately. Once he had been stout. Now the only words that could begin to do justice to his size were words such as corpulent, obese, and elephantine. Limp whiskers framed a face as round and red as a hunting moon. Instead of retreating into a normal neck, his chins advanced, roll upon roll, until they met a swelling corporation uninterrupted by any hint of a waistline. When he smiled, as he was smiling now, his cheeks swelled up and squeezed his eyes into slits.
    "What the devil are you doing here, James?" I demanded.
    From my dear Evelyn, standing to one side, came a gentle cough of remonstrance. I directed a nod of apology to her, but I did not feel obliged to apologize to James for my blunt but understandable language.
    "Why, I am here to welcome you, of course," was James's smooth reply. "It has been too long, dearest of sisters; the time has come for familial affection to mend the rents of misunderstanding."
    Emerson had wasted no time in clasping his brother's hand and pumping it with the hearty force that is the Englishman's manner of displaying affection in public. Placing a brotherly arm around Evelyn's slim shoulders, he remarked, "Is that James? Good Gad, Peabody, how fat he has become. So much for the roast beef of old England, eh? And the port and the Madeira and the claret! Why doesn't he go away?"
    "He says he has come to welcome us home," I explained.
    "Nonsense, Peabody. He must want something from you; he never comes to see us unless he wants something. Find out what it is, tell him 'no,' and let us be off."
    James's forced smile trembled in the balance, but he managed to hold on to it. "Ha, ha! My dear Radcliffe, your sense of humor . . . Upon my word, it is the most . . ."He offered his hand.
    Emerson eyed it for a moment, lips pursed, then seized it in a grasp that brought a squeal of pain from my brother. "Soft as a baby's," said Emerson, flinging the member aside. "Come along, Peabody."
    However, we were not to be rid of James so easily. He stood his ground, smiling and nodding, while the rest of us exchanged those charmingly inconsequential bits of domestic news that mark the meeting of friends after a long absence.
    Rose continued to hold Ramses (and the cat) in a close embrace. She had a quite unaccountable attachment to the boy and was one of the few people who defended him on all occasions. Such cases are not unknown, I believe; Rose had no children of her own. Though her official position was that of parlormaid, she was the mainstay of our household and cheerfully performed any service requested of her. She had come up to London for the express purpose of watching over Ramses for the few days we intended to remain in town. Not that she was really capable of controlling him; but then, as Emerson said, no one was.
    John—who could not control Ramses either—had been out to Egypt with us one winter, and he was full of questions about his friends Abdullah and Selim and the rest. The look of surprise and contempt on James's face at seeing us so friendly with a mere footman was very amusing; but at last a slight cough from Evelyn reminded me of thedamp weather, and we took an affectionate leave of John, who was returning immediately to Kent with our baggage.
    There were too many of us for the carriage, so Walter suggested the ladies make use of it, while he and his brother followed in a cab. I did not hear him mention my brother; that did not prevent James from joining them. Emerson was already inside the cab, so I was spared seeing his reaction.
    Ramses and Rose went with us in the carriage. He immediately launched into one of his interminable monologues, describing his winter's activities, to which Rose listened with a fatuous smile. I turned to Evelyn, who was seated beside me.
    "How long do you mean to stay in London, my