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Updated: June 21, 2025
The next day, while Sir Henry went up to London, True Blue started off by himself to Emsworth, his godfather having too much to do in refitting the ship to be spared away from her. He had not given notice that he was coming, and the cry of pleasure with which he was received when his smiling countenance appeared at Peter Ogle's cottage door showed him that he might depend on a hearty welcome.
He had noticed that the smell of paint had seemed particularly pungent, but had attributed this to a new freshet of energy on the part of Lord Emsworth. He had not perceived that paint had been spilled. "Pah!" said Baxter. Then suddenly, beneath the disguise of the mess, he saw the clew. A footmark! No less. A crimson footmark on the polished wood!
He would have gone on, doubtless, to say more; but at this moment voices made themselves heard outside the door. There was a movement of feet. Then the door opened and a small procession entered. It was headed by the Earl of Emsworth. Following him came Mr. Peters. And in the wake of the millionaire were Colonel Horace Mant and the Efficient Baxter.
The cab drew up before a house gay with flowered window boxes. Lord Emsworth paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk looking up at this cheerful house, trying to remember why on earth he had told the man to drive there. A few moments' steady thought gave him the answer to the riddle. This was Mr. Peters' town house, and he had come to it by invitation to look at Mr.
High time he settled down and got a little sense. I put it to him straight. I cut off his allowance and made him stay at home. That made him think lazy young devil!" Lord Emsworth had his lucid moments; and in the one that occurred now it came home to him that he was not talking to himself, as he had imagined, but confiding intimate family secrets to the head steward of his club's dining-room.
The Earl of Emsworth said: "Baxter is invaluable positively invaluable." The Honorable Freddie said: "A chappie can't take a step in this bally house without stumbling over that damn feller, Baxter!"
Peters. "Indeed!" he said, when Baxter had finished. "Really? Dear me! It certainly seems It is extremely suggestive. You are certain there was red paint on this shoe?" "I have it with me. I brought it on purpose to show you." He looked at Ashe, who stood in close attendance. "The shoe!" Lord Emsworth polished his glasses and bent over the exhibit. "Ah!" he said.
"Excuse me for one moment." "Certainly," said Lord Emsworth gratefully. "Certainly, certainly, certainly! By all means." The door closed behind Mr. Peters. Lord Emsworth was alone. For some moments he stood where he had been left, a figure with small signs of alertness about it. But Mr. Peters did not return immediately. The booming of his voice came faintly from some distant region.
As True Blue had not the slightest notion what this meant, he made no reply. Everybody in the house was sorry to part with the frank-spoken young sailor. Even the butler and footman begged him to accept some token of remembrance; and Mrs Jellybag, the housekeeper, put him up a box containing all sorts of good things, which, she told him, he might share with his friends down at Emsworth.
Peters fervently. "I beg your pardon?" "A Cheops of the Fourth Dynasty." Lord Emsworth began to feel like a hunted stag. He could not go on saying "Ah!" indefinitely; yet what else was there to say to this curious little beastly sort of a beetle kind of thing? "Dear me! A Cheops!" "Of the Fourth Dynasty!" "Bless my soul! The Fourth Dynasty!" "What do you think of that eh?"
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