The Box of Delights (29 page)

‘All the clever jewel thieves in this world,’ he muttered, ‘have worked for little Abner getting these; and then those stones from the mines that the kind black men kept for
little Abner. What a lot of burglars have had anxious nights so that little Abner might have his quiet island! Dear! Dear! And where are the burglars now? Boxed up in iron bars and granite, most of
them. Well, they meet their friends there and they have time for thought. There must be a matter of three hundred thousand in this little box alone. I shall retire. It’s enough, even for
me.

‘Strange,’ he said, ‘strange! That little mildew of a boy is in my thoughts the whole time. The trouble with me is that I have been doing too much in these last anxious days; I
have had no proper rest. It’s as wearing as a war, this kind of thing. I think I will take a nap; that will do me good.’

Kay saw him slip off his shoes, take off his coat, lie down upon the sofa, settle the coat over his toes, shake the pillows a little and fall instantly asleep. There Kay was, shut up in the
strongroom for what seemed like hours, while Abner slept.

‘What shall I do?’ Kay thought. ‘Shall I go home and tell the Lord Lieutenant or the Colonel of the Tatshire Regiment that there isn’t a moment to lose? No, no, of
course, I know what I’ll do. I’ll go to Caroline Louisa and ask her advice.’

He had only to twirl the knob and speak his wish to be whirled to the corridor where she was prisoned: but here he found himself beset by magic; he called, but she did not hear; he groped, but
could not find the prison; heavy felt blankets came in his way, tripped him up and baffled him. Besides these, horrid little aeroplanes with snouts like wolves came snapping at him. He was soon
glad to wish himself back in Abner’s strongroom, where he found Abner just waking from his nap; he was growling as he woke, that ‘he would soon teach them’.

Kay realised suddenly that, tiny as he was, his suit of grey was very conspicuous against the red carpet. ‘If I am not careful,’ he said to himself, ‘I shall be seen.’
Abner rolled over towards him and opened his eyes, then rubbed them. Kay pressed back towards the wall and lay down along the edge of the carpet. Abner sat up, slipped on his shoes, put on his
coat, rose and stretched himself.

‘Ha,’ he said, ‘a very snug little snooze. Now let me see; let me see . . . Of course, the first thing is this boodle. I have packed most of it. There is nothing like going
over things a second time. I may have left out something.’ He looked at his watch: ‘I
have
had a sleep,’ he said. ‘Come on now.’

He took the deed-box from the table and laid it on the floor close to Kay. Then he knelt down and unpacked its contents. Some of the bags of jewels almost fell upon Kay, who trembled in every
limb lest he should be seen.

‘Oh, what shall I do?’ Kay thought. ‘He is bound to see me. Shall I twiddle the knob and go home? It is no good going to the Inspector, he simply will not believe the things I
tell him, and I must stay here to learn more of this place, if I am to rescue the others.’

He lay still, hoping that Abner would not see. Abner was intent upon the jewels:

‘Rubies,’ he said, ‘Emeralds, Pearls, Diamonds, my own Sapphires . . . there, I knew I had forgotten something: the Cat’s-Eyes. I do not value those silly stones myself,
but those Eastern Kings think the world of them and pay just what one asks. Well,’ he said, ‘we have done quite well in Cat’s-Eyes . . . here we are.’ He took some packages
from a shelf, removed some of the packages already packed and began to restow the box. ‘No,’ he said, when he had finished, ‘even now it won’t do. I must get some amethysts
in.’

He pitched out some of the packages, poured loose amethysts into the box, shook the box to make them settle down and then snatched the packages lying on the floor and crammed them in on the top.
In his hurry he picked up Kay with one of the packages, not noticing him, pitched him with the package into the box, jammed him down tight, so that Kay’s bones were nearly smashed, and then
squeezed him fast with a couple of packages. Then he shut the lid, sat on it to make it close, locked it, passed a chain round the outside of it, apparently secured the chain with a padlock, then
lifted it with a jerk and banged it down on the table with a jolt, so that Kay was shaken, squeezed, banged, bruised and battered, as though the coals had been delivered on top of him. By kicking
and struggling Kay managed to reach the top of the heap, so that he could breathe what little air there was.

‘This is enough for me,’ he muttered. ‘I will go home.’

Struggling hard he contrived to move his arms and felt in his pocket for the Box, but alas, it was no longer there: it must have been jolted out as he struggled among the jewel bags. The
precious Box was gone. There he was, no bigger than a mouse, perhaps forty miles from home, in a strongroom in a prison in the rock, padlocked and chained within a locked iron box, which was
perhaps soon to be carried to some distant island. He heard Abner putting things on the table beside him. He heard a cork drawn; then he heard Abner apparently cracking walnuts. There came the
glug-glug of something poured from a bottle. He heard Abner’s teeth crunching nuts and his lips smacking over his drink.

‘A very pretty little port,’ Abner was saying. ‘A little lacking in body, but a pleasant afternoon drink.’

Kay heard the glug-glug repeated more than once; then Abner picked up the deed-box from the table and shook it.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘not many people shake half a million pounds of jewels at one go. Now, soon I shall be aboard the submarine, speeding through the billows. This day next week,
instead of a foot of snow, there will be the tropical island; instead of my Pouncer, there will be peace; and instead of this Brotherhood, I shall have that Box of the Past, to enter at will. Oh,
happy Abner!

‘And think of all the benefits that I have conferred; the stimulus that I have given to the jewel trade. Half the noble families of England, you might say of Europe, have had to buy new
jewels because of me. Think of the impetus that this has given to the mining industry. Many black and brown creatures in remote parts of the world are munching the banana of content in full
employment when, but for little Abner, they might be sitting in the sun doing nothing – starving. Now, very likely, they can even go to the cinema. Then, too, the benefit that I conferred
upon the Church. All the clergy of the diocese who have perhaps had embittered years thinking that they would never get promotion – what is the clerical name, by the way: not promotion, not
translation – preferment. Now, at one swoop, the curate becomes a rector, the rector a canon, the canon an archdeacon, the archdeacon a dean and the dean a bishop. Think, too, what I do to
the tourist industry. Thousands will come to Tatchester to see the scene of the recent outrages: hotels will prosper: tearooms will enlarge their premises. The master masons of Tatchester will
obtain an enormous sum of money by public subscription in order that they may put up a memorial to the martyred clergy – Tatchester represented as something between Britannia and, shall we
say, Miss Garbo, will be seen weeping in a recumbent position, or perhaps clinging to the foot of a big stone cross. In my retirement in the peaceful island I think I will send them some designs
– the tears of Tatchester for the missing Bish. When the memorial is unveiled of course, there, too, Tatchester will benefit through me: a general holiday: the Lord Lieutenant of the County;
Yeomanry parading; a platform in the Cathedral precincts: and the Tatchester Light Infantry Brass Band.

‘And this romantic pile here will be all water underneath and charred ashes above. I will open the sluices now. I have emptied six gallons of petrol in the older parts of the house
downstairs, where the wood is driest. A wax vesta on my return from Tatchester will suffice for that. With what splendour shall I pass from here: a gurgling flood deep down in the caves and a
roaring bonfire above.’

Having finished his speech, Abner said, ‘Now, come along.’

His rest and refreshment had put him into a merrier mood. Kay heard him open the strongroom door, which he slammed-to behind him. He set out walking fast, swinging the deed-box to and fro and
singing light-heartedly. Each swing drove hard knobs in the bags on to some part of poor Kay, who rolled this way and that, out of breath, banged, bruised, almost suffocated, and forced to lie face
downwards with arms outspread, to keep from being shaken under the bags.

P
resently Kay realised that Abner had reached a lift. He heard the little grille thrust back, then closed. He felt the lift started. Presently it
stopped at the top of the shaft. Abner came out into what Kay judged to be Abner’s bedroom.

‘Hurray, hurray,’ Abner carolled. ‘No more of the worry of thinking for all these fools.’

He put the box upon his table. ‘There are one or two things I still must do,’ he muttered. ‘I say, how it is snowing. I wonder what fool left my window open. There is a foot of
snow on my pillow. No doubt about this being a storm. No clergy will get to Tatchester through this.’

Kay heard him slam the window to and judged, from the muffled sound of the slam, that the snow kept it from shutting. Abner had to clear it before he could snap-to the hasp.

‘Now, wait one moment,’ Abner muttered to himself. ‘It might be just as well if I heard what my merry mariners are up to. They aren’t exactly the kind of lads to trust
further than there’s need. I’ll tune in the wireless to their mess deck.’

Kay heard Abner turn a switch. Instantly, from just beside him, as it seemed, there came a confused growling murmur of knives and forks, and conversation. Then somebody pounded a bottle on a
table, and a voice said, ‘And now, gents, please silence for a intellectual treat. Our gallant Captain, known to his enemies as Death-Chops, but to us as Rum-Chops, is kindly going to oblige
with a song of his own make about one we all wot of. Gents, all, pray silence for our great commander’s melodious joy.’

There were loud cheers. Kay heard a chair pushed back. Rum-Chops cleared his throat and at once burst into his melodious joy, as follows:

Loud cheers followed this ditty.

‘That is clever of Rum-Chops,’ Abner muttered. ‘I had not given him credit for so much wit. So he has guessed that I am leaving for good. Wait, now; there is to be some more. I
love the simple mirth of these rough diamonds. Hush, now.’

As the coarse laughter, cheers, banging of pots, table-pounding, guffaws, and stamping of feet died away, Rum-Chops called, ‘Hold on, gents, all; there’s some more about
Abner.’

‘Good old Rum-Chops,’ they shouted. ‘Hark to Rum-Chops about Abner. He does old Abner to the life.’

Rum-Chops prepared to sing a second stanza. ‘I’m going on about old Abner,’ he called. ‘Wot d’jer think of this, boys?’ Then he sang:

‘Chorus this, gents, please,’ Rum-Chops called.

All the terrible sea-wolves, bursting with laughter, shouted the last line three times:

After they had sung it, they mocked, and roared with laughter. There were cries: ‘That’s exactly Abner; that’s Abner all through: him to the island, the gang
to Pentonville. My, don’t old Rum-Chops hit him off? Good old Rum-Chops. At it again, Rum-Chops. Rum-Chops once more. Encore de Rum-Chops. Encore, Rum-Chops; Rum-Chops; a second helping with
more sauce. Hurray.’

‘Well, gents, since you are so pressing,’ Rum-Chops said, ‘I’ll try your patience yet once more. There’s nothing like good company for making a man do his best;
that’s sure. Now will you all load your pistols and charge your glasses; we’ll give the last chorus Fiery Honours. Are you all ready now . . . ?’

There came the glug-glug of rum pouring from bottles, and the click of many pistol-catches being snapped and resnapped. ‘All ready, governor,’ several voices said.

‘I wonder what is to follow,’ Abner muttered. He was not long left in doubt. Rum-Chops pounded the table with a bottle and began a third stanza:

All through the stanza, there had been sounds of ill-suppressed joy, but when Rum-Chops reached his fourth line there were shrieks of ecstasy; at the fifth line all present rose
to their feet, and towards the end of the sixth Bang went all the pistols, Crash went all the glasses, there were yells and cheers, and the last two lines were repeated and repeated . . . A young
pirate called out, ‘I know another line we could sing:

This was repeated a good many times. At last, as the noise abated, the voice of Rat, much excited and rather confused, was heard saying, ‘I know another line what we could
sing.’