It was the wardrobe that worried Canon Pennyfather.It worried him before he was quite awake. Then he forgot it and he fell asleep again. Butwhen his eyes opened once more, there the wardrobe still was in the wrong place. He waslying on his left side facing the window and the wardrobe ought to have been there betweenhim and the window on the left wall. But it wasn't. It was onthe right. It worried him. It worried him so much that it made him feel tired. He wasconscious of his head aching badly, and on top of that, to have the wardrobe in the wrongplace. At this point once more his eyes closed.
There was rather more light in the room the nexttime he woke. It was not daylight yet. Only the faint light of dawn. "Dear me," said Canon Pennyfather to himself,suddenly solving the problem of the wardrobe. "How stupid Iam! Of course, I'm not at home."
He moved gingerly. No, this wasn't his own bed. He was away from home. He was – wherewas he? Oh, of course. He'd gone to London, hadn't he? He was in Bertram's Hotel and – but no, hewasn't in Bertram's Hotel. In Bertram's Hotel his bed wasfacing the window. So that was wrong, too.
"Dear me, where can I be?" said Canon Pennyfather.
Then he remembered that he was going to Lucerne. "Of course," he said to himself, "I'm in Lucerne." Hebegan thinking about the paper he was going to read. He didn'tthink about it long. Thinking about his paper seemed to make his head ache so he went tosleep again.
The next time he woke his head was a great dealclearer. Also there was a good deal more light in the room. He was not at home, he was notat Bertram's Hotel and he was fairly sure that he was not in Lucerne. This wasn't a hotel bedroom at all. He studied it fairly closely. It was an entirelystrange room with very little furniture in it. a kind of cupboard (what he'd taken for the wardrobe) and a window with flowered curtains through whichthe light came. A chair and a table and a chest of drawers. Really, that was about all.
"Dear me," said CanonPennyfather, "this is most odd. Where am I?"
He was thinking of getting up to investigate butwhen he sat up in bed his headache began again so he lay down.
"I must have been ill," decided Canon Pennyfather. "Yes, definitely Imust have been ill," He thought a minute or two and then saidto himself, "As a matter of fact, I think perhaps I'm still ill. Influenza, perhaps? Influenza, people often said, came on verysuddenly. Perhaps – perhaps it had come on at dinner at theAthenaeum. Yes that was right. He remembered that he had dined at the Athenaeum."
There were sounds of moving about in the house.Perhaps they'd taken him to a nursing home. But no, he didn't think this was a nursing home. With the increased light it showed itself asa rather shabby and ill-furnished small bedroom. Sounds of movement went on. Fromdownstairs a voice called out, "Good-bye, ducks. Sausage andmash this evening."
Canon Pennyfather considered this. Sausage and mash.The words had a faintly agreeable quality.
"I believe," he saidto himself, "I'm hungry."
The door opened. A middle-aged woman came in, wentacross to the curtains, pulled them back a little and turned towards the bed.
"Ah, you're awake now,"she said. "And how are you feeling?"
"Really," said CanonPennyfather, rather feebly, "I'mnot quite sure."
"Ah, I expect not. You'vebeen quite bad, you know. Something hit you a nasty crack, so the doctor said. Thesemotorists! Not even stopping after they'd knocked you down."
"Have I had an accident?" said Canon Pennyfather. "A motor accident?"
"That's right,"said the woman. "Found you by the side ofthe road when we come home. Thought you was drunk at first." Shechuckled pleasantly at the reminiscence. "Then my husband saidhe'd better take a look. It may have been an accident, hesaid. There wasn't no smell of drink or anything. No blood oranything neither. Anyway, there you was, out like a log. So my husband said 'we can't leave him here lying like that'and he carried you in here. See?"
"Ah," said CanonPennyfather, faintly, somewhat overcome by all these revelations. "A good Samaritan."
"And he saw you were a clergyman so my husbandsaid, 'it's all quite respectable.'Then he said he'd better not call thepolice because being a clergyman and all that you mightn'tlike it. that's if you was drunk, in spite of there being nosmell of drink. So then we hit upon getting Dr. Stokes to come and have a look at you. Westill call him Dr. stokes although he's been struck off. Avery nice man he is, embittered a bit, of course, by being struck off. It was only hiskind heart really, helping a lot of girls who were no better than they should be. Anyway,he's a good enough doctor and we got him to come and take alook at you. He says you've come to no real harm, says it's mild concussion. All we'd got to do was to keepyou lying flat and quiet in a dark room. 'Mind you,' he said, 'I'm notgiving an opinion or anything like that. This is unofficial. I'veno right to prescribe or to say anything. By rights I dare say you ought to report it tothe police, but if you don't want to, why should you?'Give the poor old geezer a chance, that'swhat he said. Excuse me if I'm speaking disrespectful. He's a rough and ready speaker, the doctor is. Now what about a drop of soup orsome hot bread and milk?"
"Either," said CanonPennyfather faintly, "would be very welcome."
He relapsed on to his pillows. An accident? So thatwas it. an accident, and he couldn't remember a thing aboutit! A few minutes later the good woman returned bearing a tray with a steaming bowl on it.
"You'll feel betterafter this," she said. "I'd like to have put a drop of whisky or s drop of brandy in it but the doctorsaid you wasn't to have nothing like that."
"Certainly not," saidCanon Pennyfather, "not with concussion. No. it would havebeen unadvisable."
"I'll put anotherpillow behind your back, shall I, ducks? There, is that all right?"
Canon Pennyfather was a little startled by beingaddressed as "ducks." He toldhimself that it was kindly meant.
"Upsydaisy," said thewoman, "there we are."
"Yes, but where are we?" said Canon Pennyfather. "I mean, where am I?Where is this place?"
"Milton St. John," saidthe woman. "Didn't you know?"
"Milton St. John?" saidCanon Pennyfather. He shook his head. "I never heard the namebefore."
"Oh well, it's notmuch of a place. Only a village."
"You have been very kind," said Canon Pennyfather. "May I ask your name?"
"Mrs. Wheeling. Emma Wheeling."
"You are most kind," saidCanon Pennyfather again. "But this accident now. I simplycannot remember –」
"You put yourself outside that, luv, and you'll feel better and up to remembering things."
"Milton St. John," saidCanon Pennyfather to himself, in a tone of wonder. "The namemeans nothing to me at all. how very extraordinary!"
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