THE DINNER PARTY

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 1153.

After Nicolas Monsarrat

Let me tell you about a problem, which put my uncle Octavian in a difficult position thirty years ago.

Thirty years ago I myself was fifteen. That is not really important though it was important to me at that time. More important to this story is that my uncle Octavian was then (in 1925) a rich man in the best part of his life and his villa at the sea was a meeting place of rich people. He was a hos­pitable and most pleasant man—until January 3, 1925.

There was nothing special about that day, in the life of my uncle Octavian, except that it was his fifty-fifth birth­day. As usual¹ on such a day, he was giving a dinner party, a party for twelve people. All of them were old friends. I was staying with my uncle at his beautiful villa near the sea and on that happy day my uncle invited me to dinner. I was glad to be in such a company. The company included two rich ladies and their husbands, a newspaper owner and his beauti­ful American wife, a minister of France, a statesman of Ger­many, a Habsburg prince and princess.”

At that age, on holiday from school, you will understand that I was very glad. Even today, thirty years later, I can tell you that the company was excellent. And I tell you that they were all old and close friends of my uncle Octavian. Towards the end of that wonderful dinner when the serv­ants had left, my uncle turned to the princess to see a won­derful diamond ring on her hand. I remember that the dia­mond in her ring shone in the light as she turned her hand towards my uncle.

Across the table, the newspaper owner said: "May I also have a look,² Therese," She smiled. Then she took off the ring and gave it to him. "It was my grandmother's ring," she said. "I have not worn it for many years."

Everybody in the room wanted to see the ring. The ring was passed from hand to hand. For a moment it stayed in my

¹ as usual — как обычно

² have a look — взглянуть

own hand. Then I passed it on to my neighbour. I remember that she passed it on. I was almost sure of that.

Twenty minutes later the princess stood up; it was the signal for the ladies to leave the room. She looked round us with a pleasant smile. Then she said: "Before we leave you, may I have my ring back?"

I remember that my uncle Octavian said: "Oh, yes—that wonderful ring!" I remember that the newspaper owner said: "Oh, you must not forget that!" And one of the women laughed.

Then there was a pause. Each of us looked at his neigh­bour. Then there was silence. The princess was still smil­ing, though less easily. She did not like to ask for things twice. "If you please,"¹ she said proudly. "Then we can leave the gentlemen to their wine."

When nobody answered her, and the silence continued, I still thought that it could only be a joke and that one of us — probably the prince himself—would show the ring. But when nothing happened at all, I knew that the rest of the night would be terrible. Nobody knew what to do or say. Then all the guests examined the whole room, but they did not find the princess's ring—a thing which probably cost two hundred thousand pounds. It had disappeared in the room where there were only twelve people who knew each other very well.

No servants had entered the room. Nobody had left it for a moment. The thief was one of us, one of uncle Octavian's dear old friends.

I remember that the French minister began to turn out his pockets, but my uncle stopped him.

Uncle Octavian's face was pale. "There will be no search­ing, he said. "Not in my house. You are all my friends. The ring is lost. If it is not found," he bowed towards the princess, "I shall pay for it myself."

The guests began to look for the ring again. It was never found, though the guests stayed till morning. Nobody wanted to leave the house first. They still hoped to find the ring. The ring was never found.

I myself went back to England, and school, a few days later, I don't know how much my uncle Octavian paid for

¹ if you please — с вашего разрешения

² there will be no searching — обыска небудет

the ring. I know that he never came back to his house near the sea, and that he lived alone for the rest of his days. I know that, to our family's surprise, he was almost a poor man when he died. He died, in fact, a few weeks ago, and that is why I feel I can tell the story.

He died a sad man with the special sadness of a hospita­ble man who never gave a lunch or a dinner party for the last thirty years of his life.