The Simpkins Plot Read online

  CHAPTER XI.

  Meldon was a man who liked to get the full possible measure ofenjoyment out of his holidays. He counted the hours of daylight whichhe spent in bed as wasted, and although always late for breakfast, wasgenerally up and active before any other member of the Major'shousehold. On Monday morning he got out of bed at half-past five andwent down to the sea to bathe. He wore nothing except his pyjamas andan old pair of canvas shoes, and so was obliged to go back to hisbedroom again after his swim. As he passed Major Kent's door hehammered vigorously on it with his fist. When he thought he had madenoise enough to awaken his friend, he turned the handle of the door,put his head into the room, and shouted,--

  "Splendid day. Absolutely the best possible; first-rate sailingbreeze, and no prospect of rain."

  Major Kent growled in reply.

  "What's that you say?"

  "Confound you, J. J. Get out of that. What's the good of waking me atthis hour?"

  Meldon opened the door a little wider and stepped into the room.

  "I thought you'd like to know about the weather," he said. "It'sextremely important for us to secure a really first-rate day. If itturned out that we could do nothing but lollop about half a mile fromthe shore in a dead calm, poor Simpkins wouldn't have a chance; or if--"

  "Go away, J. J."

  "And if it were to come on a downpour of rain, his spirits would be sodamped that he'd never get himself worked up to the pitch of--"

  "I suppose I may as well get up," said the Major despairingly.

  "Not the least necessity for that," said Meldon. "You can sleep foranother hour and a half at least. It can't be more than half-past six,and allowing time for the most elaborate toilet you can possibly wantto make, you needn't get up till eight. I should say myself that you'dsleep much more comfortably now you know that the day is going to befine. Nothing interferes with slumber more radically than any anxietyof mind."

  The weather was all that Meldon said it was; but his satisfaction withit turned out to be ill-founded. It was based on a miscalculation.What seemed to him a desirable sailing breeze was a cause of gravediscomfort to half the party.

  Simpkins began to give way in less than an hour. He yawned, pulledhimself together, and then yawned again. After that he ceased to takeany active part in the conversation. Then Miss King began to losecolour. Meldon, who was sitting forward with his legs dangling overthe combing of the cockpit, winked at Major Kent. The Major,uncomfortably aware of the feelings of his guests, scowled at Meldon.The nearest island on which it was possible to land was still some wayoff. He foresaw a period of extreme unpleasantness. Meldon winkedagain, and mouthed the word "Ilaun More" silently. It was the name ofthe nearest island, and he meant to suggest to the Major that it wouldbe very desirable to go no further. He might, without giving offence,have said all he wanted to say out loud. Simpkins had reached a stageof his malady in which it was impossible for him to listenintelligently to anything, and Miss King would have rejoiced to hear ofa prospect of firm land.

  The _Spindrift_, which had been thrashing her way into the teeth of thewind, was allowed to go free, and reached swiftly towards Ilaun More.The change of motion completely finished Simpkins, but the period ofhis extreme misery was short. The yacht rounded up into the wind in asheltered bay, and Meldon let go the anchor. The boom, swingingrapidly from side to side, swept Simpkins' hat (a stiff-brimmed strawhat) into the sea. He made no effort to save it; but the Major,grabbing the boat-hook, got hold of it just before it floated beyondreach, and drew it, waterlogged and limp, into the boat. Simpkinsexpressed no gratitude. Meldon hauled the punt alongside, and askedMiss King if she would like to go ashore. She assented with a feeblesmile. There was no use consulting Simpkins. His wishes were takenfor granted, and he was deposited, with great difficulty, in the bow ofthe punt. Meldon rowed them ashore. He gave his arm to Miss King andled her up to a dry rock, on which she sat down. He went back to thepunt again, straightened out Simpkins, hauled him up, and set him downbeside Miss King. Then he rowed back to the _Spindrift_ in the punt.

  "This," said the Major angrily, "is a nice kind of party. You mighthave had more sense, J. J., than to invite people of that sort out inthe _Spindrift_."

  "You're very unreasonable," said Meldon. "I thought you'd have foundthe keenest delight in watching the sufferings of Simpkins. If I hadan enemy in the world--I'm thankful to say I haven't--but if I had,there's nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see him enduringthe agony that Simpkins has just been through. But that's the worst ofyou. I arrange these little surprises for you, hoping to see your facelight up with a smile of gratification, and all I get in return isgrowls and grumbles."

  Major Kent grinned.

  "That's better," said Meldon. "I'm glad to see that you're capable ofgetting some good out of an innocent pleasure, even if you have to waittill somebody points out to you what it is you ought to enjoy."

  "Any way, J. J., this will put a stopper on your plan. There'll be nolove-making to-day."

  "On the contrary," said Meldon, "I expect we've laid the foundation ofa deep and enduring affection. There's nothing draws people togethermore than a common misfortune."

  "But you can't expect a woman to take to a man when she sees him in thestate Simpkins was in when we were on the reach towards the island."

  "Not if she's all right herself," said Meldon; "but when she's in thestate Miss King was in she's past noticing anybody's complexion. Theonly emotion Miss King could possibly have felt, the only emotion of aspiritual kind, was a bitter hatred of you and me; and that, of course,would make her feel a strong affection for Simpkins. On the whole,Major, we may congratulate ourselves on our success so far. Just putthe luncheon basket into the punt, will you? They'll be as hungry aswolves in another half-hour. Simpkins is beginning to buck up already.Look at him."

  Simpkins was staggering towards his hat, which Meldon had left lying atthe place where the punt landed.

  "I expect," said the Major, "that he feels as if the sun on the back ofhis head would upset him again. It must be pretty hot in there wherethey're sheltered from the wind."

  "We'll give him a drop of whisky," said Meldon, "and set him on hisfeet properly. Get in, Major."

  "I'm not at all sure that I'm going ashore. I think I'd be morecomfortable where I am. Simpkins is bad enough when he's healthy, butin the condition he's in now I simply couldn't stand him at all.Besides, I don't think Miss King would like us to land. It doesn'tseem to me quite fair to go spying on a woman when she's sick. She'drather be left alone for a while, till she recovers her ordinarycolour. I felt very sorry for her on the boat, and if I could havedone anything--"

  "That sort of sympathy and delicacy of feeling is all very fine, Major;but I tell you plainly that if it leads to your refusing to give thepoor girl any lunch she won't appreciate it."

  "Couldn't you land the luncheon basket and then come back here?"

  "Certainly not. Then _I_ should get no luncheon. I don't shrink fromsacrifice in a good cause, Major, whenever sacrifice is necessary; butI see no point in starving myself merely to satisfy your ridiculousideas of chivalry."

  "Well, then, you go and give them their lunch, and leave me here."

  "That's the worst plan you've suggested yet," said Meldon. "If I gowithout you I shall be a damper on the whole proceedings. A thirdperson on these occasions always finds the greatest difficulty in notbeing in the way, whereas if you come we can stroll off together afterlunch under pretext of searching for lobsters or something of thatkind, and leave the happy couple together."

  "Happy couple!" said the Major. "They look it."

  "Get into the punt at once," said Meldon, "and don't try to besarcastic. Nothing is less becoming to you. Your proper part in lifeis that of the sober, well-intentioned, somewhat thick-headed, bacheloruncle. You do that excellently; but the moment you try to be cleveryou give yourself away piteously."

  "Your own part, I suppose, J.
J., is that of irresponsible buffoon."

  "No; it's not. What I do best is just what I'm doing--arranging thingsfor other people, so that difficulties and unpleasantness disappear,and life looks bright again."

  Major Kent had provided an excellent luncheon for the party, and MissKing had revived rapidly since she landed. She allowed herself to bepersuaded to drink some weak whisky and water. Afterwards she ate coldchicken with a good appetite. Poor Simpkins was less fortunate. Heinsisted on wearing his damp hat, and could not be persuaded to eatanything except biscuits. Meldon, who was most anxious to restore himto a condition of vigour, pressed a tomato on him; but the result wasunfortunate. After eating half of it, Simpkins turned his back even onthe biscuit tin. He refused to smoke after lunch, although the Majorand Meldon lit their pipes in an encouraging way quite close to him,and Miss King appeared to find pleasure in a cigarette. The situationwas not promising; but Meldon was a man of unquenchable hope. Seizinga moment when Miss King was looking in another direction, he winkedviolently at Major Kent. The Major was extremely comfortably seatedwith his back against a rock, and was enjoying himself. The_Spindrift_ lay secure at her anchor. The sun shone pleasantly. Anafter luncheon pipe is a particularly enjoyable one, and Miss King wastalking in a very charming way, besides looking pretty. The Major wasdisinclined to move, and although he guessed at the meaning of Meldon'swink, he deliberately ignored it. Meldon winked again. Then he roseto his feet, shook himself, and looked round him.

  "I think, Major," he said, "that if we mean to catch any lobstersto-day, we ought to be starting."

  The Major grunted.

  "Lobsters! Can we catch lobsters here?" said Miss King. "I shouldlike to help. I have never caught a lobster."

  "It's not exactly a sport for ladies," said Meldon. "The lobster is anugly fish to tackle unless you are accustomed to him. Besides, weshall have to take off our shoes and stockings."

  "But I only mean to look on. I shouldn't run any risks."

  She had in her mind at the moment a scene in her new novel into whichlobster fishing, as practised in the west of Ireland, might beintroduced with great effect. The idea that there was some risk aboutthe sport added to its value for her purpose. She foresaw thepossibility of vividly picturesque descriptions of bare-limbed,sun-tanned muscular folk plunging among weedy rocks, or spattered withyellow spume, staggering shorewards under a load of captured lobsters.But Meldon was most unsympathetic.

  "Besides," he said, "the chief haunt of the lobsters is at the otherside of the island, quite a long way off."

  "I should like the walk," said Miss King, "and I'm sure there's acharming view."

  "It's very rough," said Meldon, "and you'd get your feet wet."

  He nudged the Major as he spoke. It did not seem fair that the makingof all the excuses should be left to him.

  "I really believe," said Miss King, "that you don't want me to go withyou, Mr. Meldon. It's most unkind of you. I'm beginning to think thatyou don't like me. You said something quite rude to me the other day,and I don't believe half you're saying to me now.--It's not dangerousto catch lobsters, is it, Major Kent?"

  The Major felt Meldon's eye on him. He was also aware that Miss Kingwas looking at him appealingly.

  "No," he said; "at least, not very; not if you're careful about the wayyou take hold of them."

  "And I shouldn't get my feet wet, should I? not very wet?"

  "No," said the Major, "or you might, of course. There's a sort of poolat the other side of the island, and if you walked through it--; butthen you could go round it."

  "There now," said Miss King. "I knew you were only making excuses, Mr.Meldon."

  "I was," said Meldon. "I may as well own up to it that I was. My realreason for not wishing you to come with us--"

  He edged over to where Simpkins was sitting, and kicked him sharply inthe ribs. It was, after all, Simpkins' business to make some effort toretain Miss King.

  "My real reason," he said, "though I didn't like to mention it before,is that there's a dead sheep on the other side of the island, justabove the lobster bed. It's a good deal decayed, and the sea-gullshave been picking at it."

  Miss King shuddered.

  "Is there a dead sheep, Major Kent?" she asked.

  "I don't know," said the Major. "I haven't been on this island foryears; and I don't believe you have either, J. J."

  "Dr. O'Donoghue told me about it yesterday," said Meldon. "He said itwas a most disgusting sight. I don't think you'd like it, Miss King.I don't like telling you about it. I'm sure a glance at it would upsetyou again--after this morning, you know."

  Miss King was evidently annoyed by this allusion to her sea sickness,but she was not inclined to give up her walk.

  "Couldn't we go somewhere else for lobsters," she said; "somewhere agood way off from the dead sheep?"

  "No," said Meldon decisively. "We shouldn't catch any if we did. Allthe lobsters, as you can easily understand, will have collected nearthe dead sheep. It's a great find for them, you know, as well as forthe sea-gulls."

  "In any case," said Miss King, who felt that she could not with decencypress her company on Meldon any more, "I'd rather stay where I am. Idon't think I care for crossing the island after all."

  Meldon kicked Simpkins again. Then he took Major Kent by the arm,dragged him to his feet, and set off at a rapid pace across the island.

  "J. J.," said the Major, "these plans of yours are all very well, andof course I'm not going to interfere with them, but I don't see anynecessity for being actually rude to Miss King. She strikes me asbeing a very nice girl."

  "I am disappointed in Miss King," said Meldon. "I thought better ofher before. She's not what I call womanly, and I hate these unsexedfemales."

  "What do you mean? I suppose you think she had no right to try andforce herself on us, but I thought--"

  "I'm not complaining of that in the least," said Meldon. "That wasquite natural, and not at all what I call unwomanly. In fact, mostwomen would have acted just as she did in that respect. What I wasthinking of was those famous lines of Sir Walter Scott's. Yourecollect the ones I mean, I suppose?"

  "No; I don't."

  "'Oh woman,'" said Meldon, "'in our hours of ease'--that's now, Major,so far as we're concerned--'uncertain, coy, and hard to please.'That's what Miss King ought to have been, but wasn't. Nobody can sayshe was coy about the lobsters. 'When pain and anguish wring thebrow.' That's the position in which Simpkins finds himself. 'Aministering angel thou.' That's what Miss King should be if she's whatI call a true woman, a womanly woman. But she evidently isn't. Shehasn't the maternal instinct at all strongly developed. If she had,her heart would bleed for a helpless, unprotected creature likeSimpkins, whose brow is being wrung with the most pitiable anguish."

  "Do you mean to say," said the Major, "that you think she ought to takea pleasure in holding that beast Simpkins' head?"

  "That, though you put it coarsely, is exactly what I do mean. Any truewoman would. Sir Walter Scott distinctly says so."

  "Considering what you believe about her--I mean all that about her andMrs. Lorimer being the same person, and her wanting to kill Simpkins--Idon't see how you can expect her to be what you call womanly."

  "There you're wrong, Major; quite wrong, as usual. There's no reasonin the world why a woman shouldn't be womanly just because she happensto hold rather advanced opinions on some ethical subjects. As a matterof fact, it came out in the trial that Mrs. Lorimer was devotedlyattentive to her husband, her last husband, during his illness. Shewatched him day and night, and wouldn't allow any one else to bring himhis medicine. I naturally thought she'd display the same spirit withregard to Simpkins. I hope she will after they're married; but I'mdisappointed in her just at present."

  "What are you going to do about the lobsters, J. J.?" said the Major,dropping the subject of Miss King's character. "You know very wellthat there are none on the island, and after all you said about th
eirswarming about in a lobster bed, Miss King will naturally expect us tobring her back a few."

  "No, she won't. Not when she knows that they've been feeding on thedisgusting and half-decayed dead sheep. She'd hate to see one."

  "What made you think of saying there was a dead sheep, J. J.?"

  "I had to think of something," said Meldon, "or else she'd have comewith us. You contradicted every word I said, and gave the show away,although you knew very well the extreme importance of giving Simpkinshis chance."

  "I don't think he looked much like taking it when we left."

  "No, he didn't. A more helpless, incompetent idiot than Simpkins Inever came across. He won't do a single thing to help himself. Isuppose he expects me to-- I'll tell you what it is, Major; I had someregard for Simpkins before to-day, but I'm beginning to agree with youand Doyle about him now."

  "Then perhaps you'll stop trying to get him to marry Miss King."

  "No, I won't. My coming round to your way of thinking is all the morereason for marrying him. As long as I had any regard for him I felt itwas rather a pity to have him killed, and I was only doing it to pleaseyou. Now that I see he really doesn't deserve to live I can go on witha perfectly clear conscience."

  "Any way," said the Major, "I don't believe that he'll do muchlove-making to-day."

  "Don't be too sure of that. If Miss King is behaving now as she oughtto be; if she has taken that wet hat off his head and stopped itwringing his brow; if, as I confidently expect, she is showing herselfa ministering angel, we shall most likely find them sitting in a mostaffectionate attitude when we get back."

  Miss King did not do her duty. When Meldon and Major Kent returned,lobsterless, after half an hour's absence, they found Mr. Simpkinssitting on a stone by himself with the wet hat still on his head. MissKing was a long way off, stumbling about among the stones at thewater's edge. She may, perhaps, have been trying to catch lobsters.

  The voyage home was most unpleasant for every one except Meldon. Thewind had risen slightly since morning, and the motion of the yacht inrunning before it was very trying. Mr. Simpkins collapsed at once andwas dragged by Meldon into the cabin, where he lay in speechlessmisery. Miss King held out bravely for some time, and then gave waysuddenly. Major Kent, watching her, was very unhappy, and did not dareto smoke lest he should make her worse. He attempted at one time towrap her in an oilskin coat, thinking that additional warmth might begood for her; but the smell of the garment brought on a violent spasm,and he was obliged to take it away from her shoulders.

  In the evening, after Miss King and Mr. Simpkins had been sent home ona car, Meldon reviewed the day's proceedings.

  "As a pleasure party," he said, "it wasn't exactly a success; but thenwe didn't go out for pleasure. Considered as a step in advance towardsthe marriage of Miss King and the death of Simpkins, it hasn't turnedout all we hoped. Still I think something is accomplished. Miss Kingmust, I think, have felt some pity for Simpkins when she saw medragging him into the cabin by his leg, and we all know that pity isakin to--"

  "If she thinks of him in that sort of way," said the Major, "she won'tkill him."

  "I've told you before," said Meldon--"in fact, I'm tired tellingyou--that she hasn't got to kill him until after she's married him.You don't surely want her to be guilty of one of those cold-blooded,loveless marriages which are the curse of modern society and end in thedivorce court. She ought to have some feeling of affection for himbefore she marries him, and I think it is probably aroused in her now.No woman could possibly see a man treated as I treated Simpkins thisafternoon without feeling a little sorry for him. I bumped his head inthe most frightful manner when I was dragging him down. No; I thinkit's all right now as far as Miss King is concerned. I'll go in andsee Simpkins to-morrow and spur him on a bit. I'll tell him--"

  "Some lie or other--" said the Major.

  "Only for his own good," said Meldon. "I saw quite plainly on Sundaythat he wanted to marry Miss King, and whatever I say to-morrow will becalculated to help and encourage him. You can't call that kind ofthing telling lies. It's exactly the same in principle as why a gooddoctor tries to cheer up a patient by saying that he'll be perfectlywell in the inside of a week after a trifling operation. Everybodyadmits that that's perfectly right, and nobody but a fool would call ita lie."