The Jeeves Omnibus - Vol 1: (Jeeves & Wooster): No.1 by P. G. Wodehouse Page A

gone slightly off your rocker, old chap,’ said Chuffy gently, ‘mustn’t you? To be sleeping out here, I mean, what?’
    ‘Why shouldn’t I sleep out here?’
    I saw Chuffy and the sergeant exchange glances.
    ‘But you’ve got a bedroom, old fellow. You’ve got a nice bedroom, haven’t you? I should have thought you would have found it so much snugger and jollier in your cosy little bedroom.’
    The Woosters have all been pretty quick thinkers. I saw that I had got to make this move of mine seem plausible.
    ‘There’s a spider in my bedroom.’
    ‘A spider, eh? Pink?’
    ‘Pinkish.’
    ‘With long legs?’
    ‘Fairly long legs.’
    ‘And hairy, I shouldn’t wonder?’
    ‘Very hairy.’
    The rays of the lantern were falling on Chuffy’s face, and at this point I observed a subtle change come into his expression. A moment before, he had been solicitous old Doctor Chuffnell, gravely concerned about the sorely sick patient whom he had been called in to treat. He now grinned in a most unpleasant manner and, rising, drew Sergeant Voules aside and addressed a remark to him which told me that he had placed an entirely wrong construction on the matter.
    ‘It’s all right, Sergeant. Nothing to worry about. He’s simply as tight as an owl.’
    I think he imagined he was speaking in a tactful undertone, but his words came clearly to my ears, as did the sergeant’s reply.
    ‘Is that so, m’lord?’ said Sergeant Voules. And his voice was the voice of a sergeant to whom all things have been made clear.
    ‘That’s all that’s the trouble. Completely boiled. You notice the glassy look in the eyes?’
    ‘Yes, m’lord.’
    ‘I’ve seen him like this before. Once, after a bump-supper at Oxford, he insisted that he was a mermaid and wanted to dive into the college fountain and play the harp there.’
    ‘Young gents will be young gents,’ said Sergeant Voules in a tolerant and broadminded manner.
    ‘We must put him to bed.’
    I jumped up. Horror-stricken. Trembling like a leaf.
    ‘I don’t want to go to bed!’
    Chuffy stroked my arm soothingly.
    ‘It’s all right, Bertie. Quite all right. We understand. No wonder you were frightened. Beastly great spider. Enough to frighten any one. But it’s all right now. Voules and I will come up to your room with you and kill it. You aren’t scared of spiders, Voules?’
    ‘No, m’lord.
    ‘You hear that, Bertie? Voules will stand by you. Voules can tackle any spider. How many spiders was it you were telling me you took on in India once, Voules?’
    ‘Ninety-six, m’lord.’
    ‘Big ones, if I remember rightly?’
    ‘Whackers, m’lord.’
    ‘There, Bertie. You see there’s nothing to be afraid of. You take this arm, Sergeant. I’ll take the other. Just relax, Bertie. We’ll hold you up.’
    Looking back, I am not certain whether I didn’t do the wrong thing at this juncture. It may be that a few well-chosen words would have served me better. But you know how it is about well-chosen words. When you need them most, you can’t find any. The sergeant had begun to freeze on to my left arm, and I couldn’t think of a single remark. So, in lieu of conversation, I punched him in the tummy and made a dash for the open spaces.
    Well, you can’t go far at a high rate of speed in a dark shed littered with the belongings of a by-the-day gardener. I suppose there were quite half a dozen things I could have come a purler over. The one which actually caused me to take the toss was a watering-can. I fell with a dull, sickening thud, and when reason returned to her throne I found I was being carried through the summer night in the direction of the house. Chuffy had got me under the arms, and Sergeant Voules was attached to my feet. And, thus linked, we passed through the front door and up the stairs. It wasn’t, perhaps, actually the frog’s march, but it was quite near enough to it to wound my
amour propre
.
    Not that I was thinking such a frightful lot about my
amour