Limekiller!

Sir Joshua, who had been driving on the left, now shifted to the right. On the back roads, one drove where the fewest pot-holes were. “Oh yes. Simla? No, no. Poona. Bishops, bishops, bishops, eh, Mr. Limekiller? There’s the regular bishop, the regular Anglican Bishop of Hidalgo; then there’s the RC Bishop of King Town; then of course there is dear old Archbishop Le Beau, quite a compliment for him to have picked us to settle amongst. And now this one. Thought I’d try it on our regular bishop, ‘What do you think of all these incoming episcopies?’ I asked. Thought I’d goad him into some expression of jealousy, then I’d taunt him with a lack of, oh, well, something, you know. All he said was, ‘The more the merrier.’ There you are, never can trust these parsons… Damnable stretch of road, remind me to make a note of it, drop a hint to the Ministry.”

Coconut walks lined the land side of the road. Sluggish and frothy waves slopped lazily along the beach. Overhead, though not very much overhead, brown pelicans languidly flopped through the heavy air. “And you, Sir Joshua? Are you out here investigating reports that someone has been poaching the Queen’s Deer?”

An animal far too large for a pig and far too small for a cow ambled out of the bush, narrowly avoided making a deodand of the Royal Jeep, ambled back. The chief function of the tapir, that odd, odd, animal, seemed to be to cause just exactly such hazards on the back roads. Jack was sure that he had heard Sir Joshua utter the words, “Bloody man,” at just the second the “mountain-cow” made its unsought epiphany. But he thought it best not to repeat the question. Perhaps the phrase was directed towards himself. Perhaps he had Presumed. Sir Joshua was a kindly older gentleman, Sir Joshua was being amiable in giving him a ride: Sir Joshua was, after all, he was the Royal Governor, and so -

“The damndest things, Jack, bring me out to the damndest places. It isn’t all cutting ribbons for new bridges and signing pardons, you know. Here I am, supposed to be trying my best to phase myself out, you know. and then, again and again, Government tries to phase me in

. However. Mum’s the word — Wish it were the Queen’s Deer!”

If he had any small thoughts that perhaps arriving in the Royal Jeep might give a certain cachet, a position of advantage to his business here in town, the sight of every place of business closed for lunch-cum-siesta put an end to them. He thanked Sir Joshua, and left him to his reception at the local District Commissioner’s or Police Superintendent’s office — they were side by side in the one building. The next building was the Post Office: of course it, too, was closed. Much to his surprise, however, the door of the Telegraphy Office adjacent opened, and in the doorway appeared Mr. Horatio Estaban, the (local) Royal Telegrapher. “Mr. Limekiller, sir!”

“Hello, Mr. Estaban.”

“Mr. Limekiller, sir, as I am just now going home to take my luncheon. As I suppose you are heading for down-town. If you would oblige us by distributing these, if you wouldn’t mind, sir,” and he held out a number of envelopes.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Limekiller said, scanning the addresses, all of which were familiar to him. “But aren’t they all closed now?”

Mr. Estaban, already headed in the direction of his luncheon, said, over his shoulder, “They must open by and by, sir. - At your own leisure and convenience, Mr. Limekiller. Thank you so.”

The reason why the names and addresses on the telegram envelopes were all familiar to him was that they were all of the local suppliers to whom he had the day before sent telegrams.

And, in fact, as he very justly suspected, the envelopes contained the very telegrams which he had sent.

Shop after shop presented closed doors to him as he walked along the shore road beneath the jacaranda trees which had covered the sand with their purple blossoms. True: the establishment of Abdullah Ah Ko was open, that is, its door was open, but Abdullah Ah Ko himself was fast asleep in a chair set just far enough back out of the sun so that no one could enter without climbing right over him: and, anyway, industrious and estimable person that Abdullah Ah Ko was, his stock, ranging from black tobacco-leaf to plastic raincoats, contained nothing of any use in the way of building supplies.