Jimmy Crocker was a tall and well-knit young man who later on inthe day would no doubt be at least passably good-looking. At themoment an unbecoming pallor marred his face, and beneath his eyeswere marks that suggested that he had slept little and ill. Hestood at the foot of the stairs, yawning cavernously.
"Bayliss," he said, "have you been painting yourself yellow?""No, sir.""Strange! Your face looks a bright gamboge to me, and youroutlines wobble. Bayliss, never mix your drinks. I say this toyou as a friend. Is there any one in the morning-room?""No, Mr. James.""Speak softly, Bayliss, for I am not well. I am conscious of astrange weakness. Lead me to the morning-room, then, and lay megently on a sofa. These are the times that try men's souls."The sun was now shining strongly through the windows of themorning-room. Bayliss lowered the shades. Jimmy Crocker sank ontothe sofa, and closed his eyes.
"Bayliss.""Sir?""A conviction is stealing over me that I am about to expire.""Shall I bring you a little breakfast, Mr. James?"A strong shudder shook Jimmy.
"Don't be flippant, Bayliss," he protested. "Try to cure yourselfof this passion for being funny at the wrong time. Your comedy isgood, but tact is a finer quality than humour. Perhaps you thinkI have forgotten that morning when I was feeling just as I doto-day and you came to my bedside and asked me if I would like anice rasher of ham. I haven't and I never shall. You may bring mea brandy-and-soda. Not a large one. A couple of bath-tubs fullwill be enough.""Very good, Mr. James.""And now leave me, Bayliss, for I would be alone. I have to makea series of difficult and exhaustive tests to ascertain whether Iam still alive."When the butler had gone, Jimmy adjusted the cushions, closed hiseyes, and remained for a space in a state of coma. He was trying,as well as an exceedingly severe headache would permit, to recallthe salient events of the previous night. At present his memoriesrefused to solidify. They poured about in his brain in a fluidand formless condition, exasperating to one who sought for hardfacts.
It seemed strange to Jimmy that the shadowy and inchoate vision ofa combat, a fight, a brawl of some kind persisted in flittingabout in the recesses of his mind, always just far enough away toelude capture. The absurdity of the thing annoyed him. A man haseither indulged in a fight overnight or he has not indulged in afight overnight. There can be no middle course. That he should beuncertain on the point was ridiculous. Yet, try as he would, hecould not be sure. There were moments when he seemed on the veryverge of settling the matter, and then some invisible personwould meanly insert a red-hot corkscrew in the top of his headand begin to twist it, and this would interfere with calmthought. He was still in a state of uncertainty when Baylissreturned, bearing healing liquids on a tray.
"Shall I set it beside you, sir?"Jimmy opened one eye.
"Indubitably. No mean word, that, Bayliss, for the morning after.
Try it yourself next time. Bayliss, who let me in this morning?""Let you in, sir?""Precisely. I was out and now I am in. Obviously I must havepassed the front door somehow. This is logic.""I fancy you let yourself in, Mr. James, with your key.""That would seem to indicate that I was in a state of icysobriety. Yet, if such is the case, how is it that I can'tremember whether I murdered somebody or not last night? It isn'tthe sort of thing your sober man would lightly forget. Have youever murdered anybody, Bayliss?""No, sir.""Well, if you had, you would remember it next morning?""I imagine so, Mr. James.""Well, it's a funny thing, but I can't get rid of the impressionthat at some point in my researches into the night life of Londonyestreen I fell upon some person to whom I had never beenintroduced and committed mayhem upon his person."It seemed to Bayliss that the time had come to impart to Mr. Jamesa piece of news which he had supposed would require no imparting.
He looked down upon his young master's recumbent form with agrave commiseration. It was true that he had never been able totell with any certainty whether Mr. James intended the statementshe made to be taken literally or not, but on the present occasionhe seemed to have spoken seriously and to be genuinely at a lossto recall an episode over the printed report of which the entiredomestic staff had been gloating ever since the arrival of thehalfpenny morning paper to which they subscribed.
"Do you really mean it, Mr. James?" he enquired cautiously.
"Mean what?""You have really forgotten that you were engaged in a fracas lastnight at the Six Hundred Club?"Jimmy sat up with a jerk, staring at this omniscient man. Thenthe movement having caused a renewal of the operations of thered-hot corkscrew, he fell back again with a groan.
"Was I? How on earth did you know? Why should you know all aboutit when I can't remember a thing? It was my fault, not yours.""There is quite a long report of it in to-day's _Daily Sun_, Mr.
James.""A report? In the _Sun_?""Half a column, Mr. James. Would you like me to fetch the paper?
I have it in my pantry.""I should say so. Trot a quick heat back with it. This wantslooking into."Bayliss retired, to return immediately with the paper. Jimmy tookit, gazed at it, and handed it back.
"I overestimated my powers. It can't be done. Have you anyimportant duties at the moment, Bayliss?""No, sir.""Perhaps you wouldn't mind reading me the bright little excerpt,then?""Certainly, sir.""It will be good practice for you. I am convinced I am going to bea confirmed invalid for the rest of my life, and it will be partof your job to sit at my bedside and read to me. By the way, doesthe paper say who the party of the second part was? Who was thecitizen with whom I went to the mat?""Lord Percy Whipple, Mr. James.""Lord who?""Lord Percy Whipple.""Never heard of him. Carry on, Bayliss."Jimmy composed himself to listen, yawning.