Не для него венчальный звон. Пелам Гренвилл Вудхаус ( рассказ ) / аудиокнига

Paul M. Granville Woodhouse. Not for him the wedding bell. Translator Vitaly Yermolin. Jukrich, a born optimist. He always said that in our world everything is for the best, and the worthy and righteous will certainly escape even the most monstrous dangers. In the evidence, he most often brings this story. From beginning to end, he sees in it a dissonance of events. It all started one summer at the Haymarket. We had just had breakfast, at my expense, at the Palmel restaurant. When we went out into the street, a sparkling limousine stopped nearby. The driver got out of the car, opened the hood, and climbed there with pliers. If I were alone, I would take a look and go on my own. But for Jukrich, the spectacle of someone else's work always had an irresistible charm. He grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the car to provide the worker with moral support. For two minutes he was breathing hard into the driver's back of the head. Finally, he apparently realized that this was the surprise of the June zephyr, and unhappily turned around. And there. But his irritation immediately changed as much as possible for the driver with joy. Oh, hello, he noticed. Hello, Frederick, said Jukrich, and I didn't recognize you. This is a new car. Ah, nodded the driver. We are friends with Frederick, explained Jukrich to me. We met in a pub. London was full of Jukrich's friends, with whom he met in a pub. What happened? Nonsense, said the driver named Frederick. Now I will fix everything. It is said and done. Very soon he straightened up, slammed the hood and wiped his hands. Have a nice day, he said. Great, agreed Jukrich. Where are you going? The owner of the pub is playing golf. I'm going to pick him up. Then, under the gentle June sun, the driver finally melted and offered. Don't you want to take a ride from Croydon? Come back by train. The offer was generous, and neither I nor Jukrich were inclined to refuse. We got into the car. Frederick turned on the automatic ignition, and we were desperate. Neither give nor take. Two Swedish lions went to breathe some fresh air. I was in the best mood. And Jukrich, I think, too. The more saddening was the subsequent sad incident. We stopped at the intersection, passing the current transport stream from south to north. And then a piercing cry woke us up from a full constipation. Hey! Undoubtedly, the cry was addressed to us. He was standing on the sidewalk, drilling the bottom of our car with an evil eye. It was a fat, bearded middle-aged gentleman, dressed, despite the hot weather and secular prejudices, in a turtleneck and a bowl. Hey, you! He shouted, shocking the decent public. The driver Frederick, casting a glance at him with a look of complete contempt, lost interest in the indecent outbursts of the lower creature. But Jukrich, to my surprise, showed all the signs of anxiety and confusion, like a wild animal caught in a haystack. He blushed, puffed up and stood right in front of himself, unsuccessfully trying not to notice this too noticeable figure. I need to talk to you, he rumbled with a beard. The subsequent events developed rapidly. The cars started moving, and the bearded gentleman apparently realized that he needed to act quickly. With a clumsy pirouette, he covered four feet and landed on the footrest of our limousine. But then, suddenly, Jukrich woke up and pushed the bearded man onto the bridge. When I looked at him for the last time, he was standing in the middle of the road and shaking his fists, and his omnibus No. 3 almost overtook him. Jukrich sighed with relief. — What was that? — I wondered. — The type to whom I owe money, — he explained to me. — Ah, — I answered. Now everything became clear to me. I had never seen Jukrich's creditors at work before, but he often made me understand that they are hiding everywhere in London, like leopards in the jungle, ready to attack their prey at any moment. He did not walk on some streets at all so as not to get caught. — He's been following me on my heels like a lizard for two years, — Jukrich complained. — You almost forget about him, he'll jump out of the corner right away. Because of him, I sit down to the roots of my hair every time. I wanted to find out more about this, but Jukrich plunged into thoughtful silence. However, the misfortunes of that memorable trip did not end there. We were driving along Clapham Common, when suddenly, right in front of us, a girl jumped out onto the road, fat and stupid. According to the custom of all such creatures, she immediately lost her head and flew back and forth like a crazy chicken. Jukrich and I jumped and, in horror, grabbed each other, when suddenly the girl stumbled and fell, but Frederick, the master of his business, did not let us down. An inspiring turn of the steering wheel, and a second later, when we stopped, the girl was already rising from the ground, dusty, but in good shape. Such cases affect different people in different ways. In Frederick's cold gray eyes, there was only a tired contempt of the superhuman for the idiotic exits of brainless proletarians. I was nervously swearing on my part. But in Jukrich, this road accident woke up the knight. While our driver was turning the car around, Jukrich was constantly banging something under his nose. And we did not have time to stop, as he had already jumped out onto the road and blurted out some apologies. I am terribly sorry. You could have died. I will never forgive myself. As for the girl, she reacted to this story in a completely different way. She giggled. And this stupid laugh for some reason led me out of balance more than everything else. She must have been innocent. It must have been such an unusual fun, it was just a symptom of nervous shock. But I did not fall in love with her at first sight. I hope, Jukrich cracked, you are not mistaken. Tell me you are not mistaken. The girl giggled again. Before giggling, it would not hurt her to drop 10-12 pounds. I wanted to leave as soon as possible and forget her forever. No, thank you, nothing. But you were scared, weren't you? Yes, I was very scared, said this disgusting woman. I thought so. I was afraid of all this. You are scared. You have a nervous shock. Let me drive you home. Nothing, no need. I insist. I insist positively. Ahem, said Frederick the driver in a quiet, convincing voice. Ah? We need to go to Waddington. Yes, yes, yes, Jukrich impatiently pulled him. He has already entered the role of an important master. We still have time. And we will take the lady home. Don't you see, Frederick, that the lady is in shock? Where to take you? Yes, here, near the corner, on the next street. Balbriggan is called. Balbriggan, Frederick, next street, said Jukrich in a tone that did not allow objections. I think the inhabitants of Peabody Road in Clapham Common often have to see their daughter roll up to the parent's porch in a Daimler limousine. One way or another, it was worth coming up as the population of the villa Balbriggan rushed to the street. Father, mother, three younger sisters and two brothers woke up on the porch in the very first ten seconds and, with a tight schedule, moved along the garden path. Jukrich was in his element. He introduced himself, and in a minute he was already on his short leg with the whole family. In a few short but touching words, he told them what had happened. I quietly and imperceptibly sat in my corner. The driver, Frederick, looked down at the oil gauge. I wouldn't forgive myself, Mr. Price, if something had happened to Miss Price. Fortunately, my driver drives the car well and managed to turn at the right moment. You showed great endurance, Frederick, said Jukrich. Great endurance! Frederick continued to look indifferently at the oil gauge. What a beautiful car you have, Mr. Jukrich, said the mother of the family. Do you think so? Jukrich answered carefully. Yes, not a bad car. Do you know how to drive yourself? asked the younger of the two younger brothers. Oh yes, but Frederick usually drives in the city. Would you like to come in with your friend and have a cup of tea? asked Mrs. Price. Jukrich hesitated. He had just had a great breakfast, but a free treat could not leave him indifferent. But then Frederick started talking. Ahem. Ah? You need to go to Waddington, Frederick said firmly. Jukrich twitched as if he had been awakened. Apparently, he himself believed that this was his car. Oh yes, of course, I forgot. I need to go to Waddington urgently. Friends are playing golf there. I promised to give a lift. Some other time, okay? Any day when you are comfortable, Mr. Jukrich, said Mr. Price, adorning the common favorite with a benign smile. Thank you, thank you. Tell me, Mr. Jukrich, asked Mrs. Price. She thought about it as soon as you said your name. It is so unusual. You are not a relative of Mrs. Jukrich who writes books. She is my aunt, Jukrich sighed. No, really. I love her novels so much. Tell them. Frederick could not help but admire them, stopped the literary discussion, pressed the starter. And we were desperate Mr. Jukrich, bent over the backboard, promised to bring his aunt to a Sunday dinner with Price. When we turned around the corner, he spat on the seat and immediately began to teach me. Always do good to people, my child. There is nothing better than good. Never miss the opportunity to improve your position. This is the secret of success. You see, just a few good words and now there is a house where I can have a snack if the money is zero. His cynical views outraged me and I told him about it, but Jukrich objected. It's good for you to say so, my boy, but do you understand, Korko, that in such a house they serve cold beef, baked potatoes, pickles, salad, blancmange and some cheese means more than can be expressed in words. About a week later I had to go to the British Museum to pick up the material for one of those brilliant articles that from time to time decorate our best diaries. I was walking around the museum collecting data and suddenly I met Jukrich. He had a little boy on each arm. He was rejoicing for me like a sailor who has suffered a crash. The sails on the horizon are rejoicing. Come on, guys, run, develop your mind, he said to the children. I'll wait for you here. Okay, Uncle Stanley, the children responded. Uncle Stanley, I asked my spouse again. I have to pay him a visit, he frowned a little. These are the children of the Price family and I walk with them. My child needs to be paid for hospitality. So you really imposed on these poor people. I looked at them from time to time, Jukrich replied with dignity. You met them a week ago. How many times did you look at them? Twice, well, maybe three. To the table? Well, we got tired of the worm, Jukrich admitted. Are you Uncle Stanley already? A glorious, happy family, said Jukrich, and his voice heard the call. I became one of them from the first day. Of course, this is a two-way stick. Today the children hanged on me. But in general, the balance is positive. To be honest, I don't really like to sing hymns after Sunday dinner. Dreamily continued Jukrich, which I have tried in my life. A gluttonous beast, I said harshly. Is there a healthy spirit in a healthy body, old man? Of course, one or two things confuse me. For example, they got the idea that the car we were riding belongs to me, and the children always tell me to ride them. Fortunately, I managed to persuade Frederick, and he, I think, will be able to arrange a car for the girls in the coming days. And then Mrs. Price keeps asking me to bring my aunt to her, to drink tea and chat. And I don't have the courage to confess to her that my aunt has finally and irrevocably abandoned me. You didn't tell me about it. Didn't tell? Ah, yes, the next day, after that dance party, it was written in it that I don't exist for her anymore. In my opinion, this speaks of indecency and bad character. The letter didn't surprise me much, but it creates certain difficulties when Mrs. Price wants to make friends with her. I had to tell her that my aunt is chronically disabled, never leaves the house and is practically chained to the bed. All this is tiring, my boy. I guess. You see, I can't stand lying and cheating. There was nothing to say and we broke up. After that, I left London for a few weeks to rest. When I returned to Aberystreet, Balls, the owner of the apartment, solemnly released a compliment to my tanned appearance and reported that George Tapper had visited me several times and would definitely like to see you, sir. I was surprised. If I looked at George Tapper, he was always glad or pretended to be glad to the old fellow, but he himself rarely sought my company. Did he say what he needed? No, sir. He did not leave any message, but he only became aware of the likely date of your return and expressed his wish that you visit him as soon as possible. This may seem reasonable, sir. I found George Tapper at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He was sitting at a table surrounded by very important papers. Well, how long can I wait for you? He shouted angrily. I thought you would never come back. Thank you, I had a great rest, I replied. The rest was returned by Rose to my Lanita. George, who did not look as rebellious as usual, sent both Rose and Lanita far away. Listen, he said anxiously. We need to do something. Have you already seen Eucridge? Not yet. I wanted to look at him this evening. Take a look. Do you know what happened? This unfortunate donkey went and married a girl from Clapham. What? From Clapham? Clapham Common, added George Tapper as if it were the last drop. Are you kidding? I'm not kidding, said George angrily. Do I look like a joker? I met them in Battersea Park and he introduced us. She looks like that awful girl in a pink dress that he brought to Ridge and Grill when I treated you to lunch. I left a deep mark in his soul. She also told the whole hall about her aunt who had a stomach ulcer. I think he was unfair to Miss Price here. During our brief meeting she seemed quite nasty to me, but I never thought to put her on the same board as Flossy, Billson's lover. Well, what do you want from me? I can't do anything. I'm busy all day. I'm busy all day too. You're not busy at all, said George, angrily. In moments of excitement he sometimes returned to the terminology of school days, far from the diplomatic protocol. Once a week you have enough energy to write a stupid article for some boulevard leaflet on whether you can kiss a priest, and the rest of the time you're chatting with Eucridge. It's clear that it's you who should set the poor idiot free. But how do you know that he needs to be set free? I think you're in a hurry with your conclusions. You, dry bureaucrats, can laugh all you want at the flower of passion, but love, as I sometimes say, moves the world. Maybe Eucridge has just fucked George Tapper. He doesn't look like a lucky guy. In Battersea Park he had this look... You remember, when he was boxing with a heavyweight from Seymour and got a blow in the first round? That's what he looked like when he introduced me to this girl. I must say, this comparison convinced me. It's strange how long such trifles are kept in memory. George Tapper's face, his hand in a boxing glove pressed against the diaphragm, confusion and horror in his eyes. If Eucridge's look reminded George Tapper of this case, then he really needs the help of his friends. You've done something like a nurse with him over the years, George added. You must help him. George Tapper. How can Eucridge marry someone? He doesn't have a penny. I'll remind him about it. He probably forgot. When I visited Eucridge in his apartment, I usually got up under the window and called him loudly. After that, if Eucridge was at home and received me, he was very careful, because his relations with this nurse were always a little tense. I called him, and his head appeared in the window. Oh, my child, hello! Even at such a distance, something in his face seemed strange to me. But only when I went to his room, I realized what the matter was. Eucridge's face was extremely bright. Oh! I exclaimed, looking at this ornament. Where and how? Eucridge thoughtfully took out his tube. It's a long story, he said. Do you remember some Price from Clapham? Don't you want to say that your fiancée has already winked at you? And what about him? Great! So I don't have to explain anything. My child, Eucridge solemnly said. Let this be a lesson for you. Never! I needed facts, not a sermon. Where did you get the bruise? Eucridge released a cloud of smoke, and his second eye lit up with a gloomy fire. Ernie Finch! I hear for the first time. Something like a family friend. As far as I know, he had good chances for Mabel until I showed up. During our engagement, he was away, and no one thought it necessary to inform him. One evening, I left Price and kissed Mabel in the glade. And suddenly he comes up. Mabel saw him, rushes to me, one hand tears me off, and the other hits right in the eye. Before I could get to him, Mabel's whips raised the whole family on their feet. They all ran out, dragged us, and explained to him that Mabel and I were engaged. Of course, he apologized. But would you have seen his disgusting smile? Then everyone made a little noise, and now I can't get out of the house until this rainbow thing blinks. In a sense, he can't help but sympathize. — As much as possible, — said Yukarich, meaningfully. I came to the conclusion that for the two of us the world is too quiet, and I can't wait to meet Ernie Finch in the dark alley. — I don't need his stupid girl, — said Yukarich unkindly. — So you really want to get rid of her? — Of course I do. — But how did you allow this engagement? — I just don't know what to tell you, old man, — said Yukarich honestly. — Everything is like in the fog. For me it was a terrible shock, like a thunder from the clear sky. All I remember is we were just sitting in the living room after Sunday dinner, and suddenly, unexpectedly, the room is filled with all kinds of prizes, and they bless us. That's all. — But you probably gave them some reason. — I held her by the hand, that was it. — Ah, well, you know, I don't understand what's going on here. — Who is safe then? — Nowadays, — said Yukarich unkindly. — It's worth saying a kind word to the girl, and you're already standing in the Duvr town hall, all covered in rice. — Well, you must admit that you asked for it yourself. You drove up to the new Daimler and put so much dust in their eyes that it would be enough for six millionaires, and you drove them for a ride, remember? — Maybe a couple of times. — And what did you say about your aunt, how rich she is? — Maybe I mentioned her from time to time. — Naturally, they now believe that you are sent by heaven to them, such a rich son-in-law. — Here, on Yukarich's face, there was a faint semblance of a self-contented smile, but immediately disappeared again. If you want to get out, you have to tell them that you don't have a penny. — But that's the difficulty, I'm going to get rich right now, and I'm afraid I've said a few times about this price. — What do you mean? — Since we met, I invested all my money in the bookmaker's business. — What do you mean, all your money? What other money? — Do you remember those fifty pounds that I earned from selling tickets to my aunt's dance party? Since then, I have made a lot of bets and won something else. I invested all this in the bookmaker's office. Now our company is small, but the world is full of different types who beat each other to put on hopeless horses, and this is a gold mine. I just gave my money, and my partner is working, so it's useless to convince Price that I'm crazy. They'll just laugh at me and run to sue me for breaking a marriage promise. In general, it was bad. And just when I was firmly on the path to success, he thoughtfully said, — I had an idea here. One idea, he said slowly. Could you write an anonymous letter? — What's the idea? — I thought here if you wrote them an anonymous letter and accused me of all sorts of sins, for example, that I already have a wife, nothing good will come of it. — Yes, maybe you're right, — said Yukarich gloomily. Having been silent for a few more minutes, I was going to leave and was already standing on the porch when I heard him running down the stairs with a stomp. — Korko, old man! — What? — I think I found it, — said I. — What if someone went to Clapham, pretended to be a detective and began to make inquiries about me? He keeps secret evil things, nods a lot, shakes his head. In general, it makes them understand that it's not fair to me, you know? You ask a lot of questions, write everything down in a notebook. What do I mean? — Yukarich looked at me confused and offended. — Oh, you won't refuse your old friend in such a trifle, old man. — I will definitely refuse. And in any case, what's the point of me? They saw me. — Yes, but they won't recognize you. You have, — said Yukarich, — such a dignified, inexpressive face. And then you can get a disguise in any costume shop. — I said firmly. I'm always ready to help you. But I won't put on a fake mustache for you or anyone else. — Well, okay, — said Yukarich, — in that case, nothing. And then he disappeared. So fast, as if he had risen to heaven. Only the piercing smell of his strong tobacco reminded me that he had just been here. Only the sound of the slammed door hinted where he was going. I looked around, not understanding anything, and saw a fat, bearded gentleman in a turtleneck and a hat with a pot. You can't forget people of this kind once you see them, and I recognized him right away. It was a creditor, the type to whom Yukarich owed money, the same gentleman who clung to our car in Haymarket. Running up to the porch, he took off his hat and wiped his face with a large colored handkerchief. — Were you talking to Mr. Smolvid? — he asked me loudly. He was clearly drunk. — No, — I answered carefully. — No, it wasn't Mr. Smolvid. — You're a liar, young man! — shouted the creditor. And with this shout, as if awakened from the spell, the sleepy street came to life and was full of people. The maids came out of the windows, the gates were buzzing with the landlady. It seemed that the bridge itself was splashing out excited spectators. I was in the center of attention, and it is not clear why in this drama I got the role of a villain. No one knew what I did to the unhappy bearded man, but the theory that I robbed him and brutally beat him had the most supporters. The crowd was already talking about lynching me. Fortunately, a young man in a blue flannel suit who came up to one of the first spoke to the peacemakers. — Let's get out of here, — he calmly told the creditor, boiling with anger, and took his hand. — You won't make a scandal, will you? — There! — shouted the creditor, pointing at the door. The crowd realized that they were wrong. Now the opinion prevailed that I had kidnapped the daughter of the bearded gentleman and kept her locked by the front door. Everyone wanted to lynch me already. — Calm down, calm down, — said the young man, who I liked more and more with every minute. — I'll knock the door out. — Well, well, you don't want to do anything stupid, — persuaded the peacemaker. — The policeman will come right away, and you will look stupid if he takes you. — If I were in the place of the bearded creditor, I would have won. The right was indisputable on his side. But, apparently, such respectful people always have to think about their reputation, and they look at the collision with the police in a different way. The creditor began to give up. He hesitated. — You know where he lives, — said the young man. — You see, you can come here and find him whenever you want. It didn't seem convincing to me either, but the creditor seemed to believe. He allowed himself to be taken away. When this star left the stage, the audience became uninterested, and the crowd quickly melted. The windows were slammed, the gates were lowered, and the street was again in the possession of a cat having breakfast in the source ditch, and a merchant of Brussels cabbage and praising his product. A hoarse voice came out from the mailbox. — Look, he's gone! — I put my lips to the gap for letters and newspapers, and we began to speak as if we were in a pyramid. — Yes. — Are you sure? — Sure. — Is he hiding somewhere around the corner? — No, he's gone. The door opened, and a hoarse huff appeared. — That's too much! — he grumbled. — Korko, you won't believe it, but all this noise is due to the fact that I owe a pound and two shillings and three pence that I owe to the damn start-up man. He broke down as soon as I started him. For the first time in a long time. After all, it's not a two-seater bike, not a speed camera, not a code, and not a magic lantern. It was difficult for me to follow his thoughts. A couple of years ago, near the house where I lived then, there was a bike shop and photographic accessories. One day I liked a two-seater bike there, and I made a preliminary order of this type. You see, preliminary. I also ordered an enlarger, a code and a magic lantern. I had to take it all when I make a final decision. Well, a week later he asks me if there are any other details that I would like to clarify before I buy all this junk. I said that I would think about it, but for now I can take that start-up man from the showcase who walks around if I start the spring. So? So, sadly, said Jukrich, he did not walk. He broke down as soon as I started him. A few more weeks passed, and this old man began to drive me. He wanted me to pay him. I say to this parasite, listen, what are you talking about? In fact, you are in a big win. Imagine that I would take you not a start-up man, but a two-seater bike, an enlarger, a code and a magic lantern. It seems quite simple, even for a person of the most poor mental abilities. He continued to be outraged, and I had to move out of this house. Fortunately, I was called a fictional name. Why? Ordinary business caution. Clear. I thought it was closed, but since then he pops up in front of me every time when I least expect him. One day he, honestly, caught me in the middle of the street, and I had to run like a hare from him along Burley Street and through the entire Covent Garden market. I would definitely get caught if he didn't stumble on a basket of potatoes. He's after me. That's what he's doing. He's after me. Why don't you pay him? I said. Cork, old man, Euclid replied unkindly. Don't talk nonsense. How can I pay him? I had a lot of money at the very beginning of my career. And besides, it's a matter of principle. The direct result of these exciting events was that Euclid put his property in a small suitcase, unwillingly paid the landlady for the trip without warning, and suddenly and smoothly disappeared in the distance and settled in my apartment where I've been working day and night like a father over a lost son. I used to give him a place to stay whenever he needed it, and he always visited my old soldier who had a home everywhere. He was so kind that he called my small apartment his second home with a potato. But in general, Euclid was not a demanding guest. His habit of sleeping until noon guaranteed me unbreakable solitude in the morning, so necessary for a young journalist to edit articles for the heading «It's interesting». And if I worked in the evening, he went downstairs and smoked a pipe in the bedroom at any time of the night and discussed a new plan to get rid of the marital ties with Miss Mabel Price from the Villa Balbrigan Peabody Road, Clapham Common. Once I told him everything I thought about his behavior, and after that he did not bother me for two days. Then Euclid appeared again. «It seems to me, my child» I heard a happy voice, and a heavy body fell on my leg. «It seems to me, my child, I finally got to the point. Take off your hat in front of Balsam. If it were not for him, this idea would not come to my head». He told me the novel he is now reading. «Here, listen, old man», «make yourself comfortable». «And tell me, what do you think about it?» «Lord Claude Trimaine is going to marry Anjali Bracebridge, the most beautiful girl in London». «What are you talking about?» «Do you know how much time?» «It does not matter how much time, my boy. Tomorrow is a day off. You can sleep longer. I have to tell you the plot of the novel «Did you wake me up at three in the morning to retell some bad novels?» «You do not listen, old man», said Euclid with a soft reproach. «I said that this novel gave me a good idea. You do not seem to be in the mood, so I will be brief». This guy, Lord Claude, felt pain in his left side a couple of days before the wedding and went to the doctor. And the doctor says «It remains to live only six months. There, of course, a lot of other things happened. In the end, it turned out that the doctor was an idiot and confused everything. But what is important for us? The wedding was immediately canceled. Everyone felt sorry for Claude and said that he could not even think of getting married. I will be at dinner tomorrow at Willy Balbrigan, and I want you to ... I exclaimed. «I know what you want. You want me to come there with you, dressed as a doctor with a cylinder and a stethoscope, introduced myself as a specialist from Harley Street and told them that you have a heart disease in the last stage. Nothing like that, old man, nothing like that. I would not have dreamed of asking you about it. You just did not think. This is not a bad plan. But since you don't like it ... No. Well, then all you need is to come to Willy Balbrigan about nine after dinner. «There is no point, — said Jukrich, — to miss dinner. You will come at nine, you will ask me, and before all this gang you will tell me that my aunt is seriously ill. Where is your sharp, clear mind, which I have always appreciated? Isn't it clear? Your message will shake me. I am flabbergasted. I grab my heart. They will instantly bite us. I will ask for water. Ah, this is very convincing. If you asked for water, your business is really bad. After a while we leave. In fact, the sooner the better. Do you understand what happened? They found out that I have a weak heart. In a few days I will write to them that the doctor examined me and the wedding, unfortunately, will have to be canceled, because ... What a stupid idea! Korko, my boy, — said Jukrich. — In my position, no idea can be called stupid if it can work. — I admitted. — So that's how it is. Can I rely on you? How could I know that your aunt was sick? — Elementary. You got a call from her. Except for you, no one knows where I go in the evenings. And you can swear that I don't need anything else. Absolutely nothing. What if you lure me to Price, what are you, old man? — Okay, — I said. — I feel inside that something will definitely go wrong. But, apparently, this is my duty. — You are a real friend, — said Jukrich. The next day at nine o'clock in the evening I was standing on the porch of the Balbrigan villa and waiting for someone to hear my call. Cats were sneaking into the purple twilight. From the illuminated windows of the first floor I heard the ringing of the piano and the voices raising to the sky the hymn of the most gloomy diversity. I recognized Jukrich's voice. He expressed a desire to be like a little child and wash away from sin with such strength that the glass barely cracked. My mood, and without it gloomy, was completely spoiled by something. A long experience of participation in Jukrich's ingenious plans made me a fatalist. The most pleasant prospects did not appear in the beginning. Sooner or later, everything ended in some miserable nightmare. The door opened. The maid appeared. — Is Mr. Jukrich here? — Yes, sir. — Can I see him? — She led me to the living room. — Sir, to Mr. Jukrich, at your disposal, — said the maid I was scared to death. I panicked. It was the fear of the stage, the same as at school, when I was forced to sing at the annual concert. I looked at the full room of the Prices and the words froze on my tongue. Near the bookcase, on the rope, there hung the seagull of the most bandit type with spread wings. The seagull had a yellow, which hypnotized me. It seemed that she could see me through. Jukrich came to my rescue. Unforcedly, incredibly, in this room of horrors, he came up to me, shiny, magnificent, in lacquered shoes, business cards and ties, in which I immediately recognized my property. As always, having robbed my wardrobe, Jukrich looked extremely rich at me, my child. He looked me in the eye with meaning, and I got a gift of speech. For breakfast, we carefully rehearsed this short scene, and now it came to my mind. I was finally able to tear off the seagull's gaze and began to speak. I'm afraid I brought bad news, Siblo said to her. Bad news? Jukrich asked again, bad news. I told him at the rehearsal that it looked like a comic dialogue from Variety. He called my objection delusional. Nevertheless, it reminded exactly a comic dialogue. I felt that I was blushing. What happened? Jukrich asked, excited, pressing my shoulder as if a horse had bitten. Oh! I exclaimed in pain. I just got a call from her on the phone. I continued more confidently. She is worse. She is very bad. She asks you to come immediately. Maybe it's too late. Water! Jukrich shouted, shaking off and grabbing for his vest, or rather for my vest, which I forgot to lock with stupid carelessness. I put on my best tie in a shapeless vest, but it still worked perfectly. I think for his life he was so many times shaken by the blows of fate that he could easily depict it again. Price's family was shocked. There was no water in the room, and a herd of young Price's rushed after her into the kitchen, and the rest of the family rushed to Jukrich. I would not be so worried, old man, someone said at the door. His voice was so eerie and disgusting that for a moment it seemed to me as if a seagull spoke. I turned around and saw a young man in a blue flannel suit. I had already seen him before. The same peacemaker who calmed the angry creditor. I would not be so worried, I thought, but I saw a bad look on Jukrich. His appearance was a sensation. Mr. Price, who massaged Jukrich's shoulders with a silent compassion of a strong man, straightened up and grandly looked at the young man from a height of his five feet six inches. I already told you. Okay, okay, said Ernie Finch, apparently a young man with character. I came only to expose the deceiver. The deceiver? Here he is, Mr. Finch contemptuously pointed at Jukrich. Jukrich wanted to say something, but changed his mind. As for me, I stepped back and looked at the young man from a height of his five feet six inches. I did not want to have anything in common with these events. Ernie Finch, inflated, said to Mr. Price, What do you want to tell him? The hostile atmosphere in the room did not scare the young man at all. He curled up his moustache and said, And if there is, then this is not Miss Julia Jukrich, a rich and famous writer. I must say, I suspected this gentleman from the very beginning and immediately began to provide some information. First of all, I wrote to his aunt, the lady he calls his aunt, that I am an old school friend of her nephew whatever you want. Miss Jukrich confirms that she received a letter from Mr. Finch and informs him that she has no nephew. No nephew? Everything is clear, isn't it? He raised his hand, warning of objection. But still, he continued, the car in which he drives is not his car at all. It belongs to a man named Fillimer. And he conducted an investigation. And his name is not Jukrich at all. His name is Smolvit. He is a swindler without a penny in his pocket and all the time he has been messing with your head. And if you let Mabel marry him, you will do the biggest stupidity in your life. Everyone was stunnedly silent. Price looked at Price but it sounded unconvincing. Perhaps, said Ernie Finch, you will believe this gentleman. Come in, Mr. Grindley. In a beard and a turban, an inexpressibly sinister creditor entered the room. Tell them, said Ernie Finch. The creditor willingly took the blame. He pierced Jukrich with a burning gaze. His chest was filled with terrible feelings. Forgive me for disrupting your Sunday rest, but this young man told me that I would find Mr. Smolvit here. And I came. I have been hunting for him everywhere for two years to get one pound, two shillings and three pence for the goods he bought. He owes you money? Mr. Price asked in a trembling voice. The creditor answered. Is this true? Mr. Price turned to Jukrich. Jukrich was already up. It seemed that he was trying to slip unnoticed. Mr. Price's question stopped him. A weak smile played on his lips. Well, said Jukrich. The head of the family finished the investigation. It was all clear to him. Mr. Price took a decision. His gaze was burning. He raised his hand and pointed at the door. Get out of my house! he groaned. Okay, said Jukrich. And don't you dare come here again! Okay, said Jukrich. Mr. Price turned to his daughter. Mabel, do you understand? I forbid you to see this swindler. Did you hear? Okay, dad. For the first time, she opened her mouth. She was an obedient girl with a kind character. I think she gave Mr. Finch a pretty good look. And now, sir, Mr. Price shouted. Get out! And what about my money? One pound, two shillings and three pence. For a moment, it seemed that the matter would stop again. But the inquisitive Jukrich quickly found a solution. You have one pound, two shillings and three pence, he asked me. As always, I was unlucky. I had money. We walked along Peabody Road. Mr. Jukrich had long passed. This proves, my child, he said excitedly, that you should never despair. Whatever happens, you can't despair. This plan could work or fail, who knows. But I didn't have to go through all the tricks that I hate so much. Instead, there was a great, simple solution, without any trouble. Mr. Jukrich smiled. Could I think, he continued, that someday Ernie Finch would evoke good feelings in me. My child, I swear to you, if he were here now, I would hug him. He again plunged into dreams. Think only, old man, he said again. How many times have I been on the verge of paying this parasite, but every time something stopped me. I can't describe what exactly, but some feeling, almost like a guardian angel. Just think, what would happen to me if I succumbed to temptation and paid. After all, it was Grindley who solved the case. Honestly, Korka, this is the happiest minute of my life. I replied, if only I could hope that someday I would see my pound of two shillings and three pence again. Come on, my child, said Jukrich. Friends don't say that. Don't gloom the minutes of pure joy. Don't worry, you will get your money and with a huge profit. When? Someday, Jukrich replied cheerfully.