The Code of the Woosters / Фамильная честь Вустеров

So I’ve got that to worry about, too. What a life!”

“Yes, sir.”

We noted a signpost where had been inscribed the words �Totleigh-in-the-Wold, 8 miles’. Soon I braked the car. “Journey’s end, Jeeves?”

“I can imagine, sir.”

Having turned in at the gateway and fetched up at the front door, we were informed by the butler that this was indeed the lair of Sir Watkyn Bassett.

Sir Watkyn, the butler explained, had gone for a walk.

“I fancy he is somewhere in the garden with Mr. Roderick Spode[55 - Spode – Споуд].

I was shocked. After that affair at the antique shop, the name Roderick was, as you may imagine, rather deeply graven on my heart.

“Roderick Spode? Big chap with a small moustache and the sort of eye that can open an oyster at sixty paces?”

“Yes, sir. He arrived yesterday with Sir Watkyn from London. They went out shortly after lunch. Miss Madeline, I believe, is at home, but it may take some little time to locate her.”

“How about Mr.

“I think he has gone for a walk, sir.”

“Oh? Well, right. Then I’ll just walk a bit, too.”

I was glad of the chance of being alone for a while. I strolled off along the terrace. The news that Roderick Spode was here had shaken me greatly.

I mean, imagine how some unfortunate criminal would feel, on coming down to do a murder somewhere, if he found that not only was Sherlock Holmes[56 - Sherlock Holmes – Шерлок Холмс] putting in the weekend there, but Hercule Poirot[57 - Hercule Poirot – Эркюль Пуаро], as well.

The more I thought about pinching that cow-creamer, the less I liked the idea. I was trying hard to find some formula.

Old Bassett, I noted, had laid out his money to excellent advantage. I am a bit of a connoisseur of country houses, and I found this one excellent. Nice facade, spreading grounds, smoothly shaven lawns, and a general atmosphere of what is known as old-world peace. Cows were mooing in the distance, sheep and birds respectively bleating and tooting.

And I was strolling up and down, my attention was arrested by the interior of a room on the ground floor, visible through an open French window.

It was a sort of minor drawing room, if you know what I mean. And it was filled with glass cases and statuettes. It was evident that I was looking at the Bassett collection.