Diary of a Drug Fiend

116 The Diary of a Drug Fiend Hang it all, one doesn’t want another man on one’s honeymoon |! So there was Feccles turning to me in a sort of limp, helpless protest, imploring me to put my foot down about it. So I said, ‘“‘ Feccles, old top, you’re the right sort. I always liked you at school, and I shall never forget what you've done for me these last thirty or forty years or whatever it is we've been in Capri, and Lloyd George can trust you to nip that blighter you're after, why shouldn’t I trust you to see us through this fun at the Gatto Fritto? ” Lou clapped her hands, screaming with merriment, but Feccles said :— “Now, that’s all right. But this is a very serious business. You're not going about it in the right spirit. We've got to go about it very quietly and soberly, and then open up when the word comes Over the top.” We pretended to pull ourselves together to please him, but I couldn’t blind my eyes to the fact that I was likely to lose my money, because the white elephant had turned into a quite ordinary Zebu or Brahman cow, or at the best a two-humped or Bactrian dromedary, in any case, an animal entirely unfitted by nature to carry the money of a cautious backer. Agitated by this circumstance, I was hardly in a condition to realise the nature of the proposals laid before the meeting by Worshipful Brother Feccles, Acting Deputy Grand Secretary General. | But roughly they were to this effect: That we were to lock up all our money and jewellery, except a little small change, as an act of precaution, and Feccles would arrive in due course, with disguises for me and Lou as Neapolitan fisherfolk, and we were to take nothing but a revolver apiece and a little small change, and we were to slip off the terrace of the hotel after dark without any one seeing, and there would be a motor-boat across to Sorrento; and there would be an automobile, so we could get into Naples at about