my nicely-reasoned plans had gone up the spout. I gave him a look, and I think I may even have snorted a bit.
“I should have thought that your manservant would have informed you,” said Sir Roderick, “that we contemplated making this change. I met him shortly before luncheon and told him to tell you.”
I reeled. Yes, it is not too much to say that I reeled. This extraordinary statement had taken me amidships without any preparation, and it staggered me. That Jeeves had been aware all along that this old crumb would be the occupant of the bed which I was proposing to prod with darning-needles and had let me rush upon my doom without a word of warning was almost beyond belief. You might say I was aghast. Yes, practically aghast.
“You told Jeeves that you were going to sleep in this room?” I gasped.
“I did. I was aware that you and my nephew were on terms of intimacy, and I wished to spare myself the possibility of a visit from you. I confess that it never occurred to me that such a visit was to be anticipated at three o’clock in the morning. What the devil do you mean,” he barked, suddenly hotting up, “by prowling about the house at this hour? And what is that thing in your hand?”
I looked down, and found that I was still grasping the stick. I give you my honest word that, what with the maelstrom of emotions into which his revelation about Jeeves had cast me, the discovery came as an absolute surprise.
“This?” I said. “Oh, yes.”
“What do you mean, ‘Oh, yes’? What is it?”
“Well, it’s a long story—”
“We have the night before us.”