Scoop-Evelyn-Waugh [14]
The bells of St. Bride's were striking four when, after a heavy luncheon, William returned to the Megalopolitan building. "Boot. Oh dear, oh dear," said Mr. Salter. "You ought to be at the aerodrome. What on earth has happened?" "He burned my passport." "Who did?" 'The Patriot Consul." "Why?" "It had a Traitor visa on it." "I see. How unfortunate. Lord Copper would be most upset if he came to hear of it. I think we had better go and ask the Foreign Contacts Adviser what to do." On the following afternoon, provided with two passports, William left Croydon aerodrome in his special plane.
He did not leave alone. The propellers were thundering; the pilot threw away his cigarette and adjusted his helmet; the steward wrapped a rug round William's feet and tenderly laid in his lap a wad of cotton wool, a flask of smelling-salts, and a paper bag for airsickness; the steps were being wheeled from the door. At that moment three figures hurried from the shelter of the offices. One was heavily enveloped in a sand-coloured ulster; a check cap was pulled on his eyes and his collar was fastened high against the blast of the engines. He was a small man in a hurry, yet bustling and buttoned up as he was, he was a man of unmistakable importance, radiating something of the dignity of a prize Pekingese. This impression was accentuated by the extreme deference with which he was treated by his companions, one a soldierly giant carrying an attache case, the other wearing the uniform of high rank in the company. This official now approached William, and, above the engine, asked his permission to include a passenger and his servant. The name was lost in the roar of the propellers. "Mr.... I needn't tell you who he is ... only plane available ... request from a very high quarter ... infinitely obliged if ... as far as Le Bourget." William gave his assent and the two men bowed silently and took their places. The official withdrew. The little man delicately plugged his ears and sank deeper into his collar. The door was shut; the ground staff fell back. The machine moved forward, gathered speed, hurtled and bumped across the rough turf, ceased to bump, floated clear of the earth, mounted and wheeled above the smoke and traffic and very soon hung, it seemed motionless, above the Channel, where the track of a steamer, far below them, lay in the bright water like a line of smoke on a still morning. William's heart rose with it and gloried, larklike, in the high places.
All too soon they returned to earth. The little man and his servant slipped unobtrusively through the throng and William was bayed on all sides by foreigners. The parcels and packing cases seemed to fill the shed, and the customs officers, properly curious, settled down to a thorough examination. "Tous sont des effets personnels � tous us�" William said gallantly, but one by one, with hammers and levers, the crates were opened and their exotic contents spread over the counter. It was one of those rare occasions when the humdrum life of the douanier is exalted from the tedious traffic in vegetable silks and subversive literature, to realms of adventure; such an occasion as might have inspired the jungle scenes of Rousseau. Not since an Egyptian lady had been caught cosseting an artificial baby stuffed with hashish, had the customs officials of Le Bourget had such a beano. "Commons dit-on humidor?" William cried in his distress, "C'est une chose pour guarder les cigares dans la Mer Rouge � et dedans ceci sont les affaires de l�hospitale pour couper les bras et les jambes, vous comprenez � et �c'est pour tuer les serpents et ceci est un bateau qui collapse et ces branches de mistletoe sont pour Noel, pour baiser dessous, vous savez ..." "Monsieur, il ne faut pas se moquer des douanes." The cleft sticks alone passed without question, with sympathy. "Ils sont pour porter les d�ches." "C'est un Sport?" "Oui, oui, certainement � le Sport." There and at the Gare de Lyon he spent vast sums; all the porters of Paris seemed to have served him, all the officials to need his signature on their sheaves of documents. At last he achieved his train, and, as they left Paris, made his way uncertainly towards the restaurant car.