the Battle of Agincourt.

"Yes, Jeeves?" I said. "Something on your mind, Jeeves?"

"I fear that you inadvertently left Cannes in the possession of a coat
belonging to some other gentleman, sir."

I switched on the steely a bit more.

"No, Jeeves," I said, in a level tone, "the object under advisement is
mine. I bought it out there."

"You wore it, sir?"

"Every night."

"But surely you are not proposing to wear it in England, sir?"

I saw that we had arrived at the nub.

"Yes, Jeeves."

"But, sir----"

"You were saying, Jeeves?"

"It is quite unsuitable, sir."

"I do not agree with you, Jeeves. I anticipate a great popular success
for this jacket. It is my intention to spring it on the public tomorrow
at Pongo Twistleton's birthday party, where I confidently expect it to be
one long scream from start to finish. No argument, Jeeves. No discussion.
Whatever fantastic objection you may have taken to it, I wear this
jacket."

"Very good, sir."

He went on with his unpacking. I said no more on the subject. I had won
the victory, and we Woosters do not triumph over a beaten foe. Presently,
having completed my toilet, I bade the man a cheery farewell and in
generous mood suggested that, as I was dining out, why didn't he take the
evening off and go to some improving picture or something. Sort of olive
branch, if you see what I mean.

He didn't seem to think much of it.

"Thank you, sir, I will remain in."

I surveyed him narrowly.

"Is this dudgeon, Jeeves?"

"No, sir, I am obliged to remain on the premises. Mr. Fink-Nottle
informed me he would be calling to see me this evening."

"Oh, Gussie's coming, is he? Well, give him my love."

"Very good, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"And a whisky and soda, and so forth."

"Very good, sir."

"Right ho, Jeeves."

I then set off for the Drones.

At the Drones I ran into Pongo Twistleton, and he talked so much about
his forthcoming merry-making of his, of which good reports had already
reached me through my correspondents, that it was nearing eleven when I
got home again.

And scarcely had I opened the door when I heard voices in the
sitting-room, and scarcely had I entered the sitting-room when I found
that these proceeded from Jeeves and what appeared at first sight to be
the Devil.

A closer scrutiny informed me that it was Gussie Fink-Nottle, dressed as
Mephistopheles.

-2-

"What-ho, Gussie," I said.

You couldn't have told it from my ma