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The room was in polished mahogany, with racks of shotguns and hunting rifles locked in behind glass. Trophies lined the walls, antlers, stuffed pheasants with long brilliant tails. The guns shone with oil. Everything was meticulously dusted. Mahogany cabinets with polished brass knobs made it look like a cabin on a ship.
“Do you shoot, Rudolph?” Boylan asked, sitting astride a leather chair, shaped like a saddle.
“No.” Rudolph’s hands itched to touch those beautiful guns.
“I’ll teach you, if you want,” Boylan said. “There’s an old skeet trap somewhere on the property. There’s nothing much left here, a rabbit or so, and once in a while a deer. During the season I hear the guns popping around the house. Poachers, but there’s nothing much to be done about it.” He gazed around the room. “Convenient for suicide,” he said. “Yes, this was game country. Quail, partridge, doves, deer. I haven’t fired a gun in years. Perhaps teaching you will reawaken my interest. A virile sport. Man, the hunter.” His tone showed what he thought of this description of himself. “When you’re making your way in the world it may help you one day to be known as a good gun. A boy I knew in college married into one of the biggest fortunes in North Carolina because of his kee
“Yes.”
“What do you plan to do after college?”
“I don’t know,” Rudolph said. “It depends upon what comes along.”
“Let me suggest law,” Boylan said. “This is a lawyer’s country. And it’s becoming more so each year. Didn’t your sister tell me that you were the captain of the debating team at school?”
“I’m on the debating team.” The mention of his sister made him wary.
“Perhaps you and I will drive down to New York some afternoon and visit her,” Boylan said.
As they left the gun room, Boylan said, “I’ll have Perkins set up the skeet trap this week, and order some pigeons. I’ll give you a ring when it’s ready.”
“We don’t have a phone.”
“Oh, yes,” Boylan said. “I believe I once tried looking it up in the directory. I’ll drop you a line. I think I remember the address.” He looked vaguely up the marble staircase. “Nothing much up there to interest you,” he said. “Bedrooms. Mostly closed off. My mother’s upstairs sitting room. Nobody sits there anymore. If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll go up and change for di
III
Rudolph went back into the living room and watched Perkins laying a table for di
“I have made a telephone call, sir,” Perkins said. “The boots will be ready by Wednesday next.”
“Thank you, Mr. Perkins,” Rudolph said.
“Happy to be of service, sir.”
Two sirs in twenty seconds. Perkins returned to his sacraments.
Rudolph would have liked to pee, but he couldn’t mention anything like that to a man of Perkins’ stature. Perkins whispered out of the room, a Rolls-Royce of a man. Rudolph went to the window and parted the curtains a little and looked out. A fog swirled up from the valley in the darkness. He thought of his brother, Tom, at the window, peering in at a naked man with two glasses in his hands.
Rudolph sipped at his drink. Scotch got a grip on you. Maybe one day he would come back and buy this place, Perkins and all. This was America.
Boylan came back into the room. He had merely changed from the suede jacket to a corduroy one. He still was wearing the checked wool shirt and paisley scarf. “I didn’t take the time for a bath,” Boylan said. “I hope you don’t mind.” He went over to the bar. He had put some sort of cologne on himself. It gave a tang to the air around him.
“The dining room is chilling,” Boylan said, glancing at the table in front of the fire. He poured himself a fresh drink. “President Taft once ate there. A di
“No.”
“Any other instrument besides the trumpet?”
“Not really. I can fake a tune on the piano.”
“Pity. We could have tried some duets. I don’t think I know of any duets for piano and trumpet.” Boylan began to play. Rudolph had to admit he played well. “Sometimes one gets tired of ca
“No.”
“Chopin, Nocturne in D-flat. Do you know how Schuma
“No.” Rudolph wished Boylan would just play and stop talking. He enjoyed the music.
“A ca
Perkins came in and said, “Di
Boylan stopped playing and stood up. “Rudolph, do you went to pee or wash your hands or something?”
Finally. “Thank you, yes.”
“Perkins,” Boylan said, “show Mr. Jordache where it is.”
“This way, sir,” Perkins said.
As Perkins led him out of the room, Boylan sat down at the piano again and started playing from where he left off.
The bathroom near the front entrance was a large room with a stained-glass window, which gave the place a religious air. The toilet was like a throne. The faucets on the basin looked like gold. The strains of Chopin drifted in as Rudolph peed. He was sorry he had agreed to stay for di
When he went out into the hall again, he had to fight down the impulse to sneak out through the front door. If he could have gotten his boots without anyone’s seeing him, he might have done it. But he couldn’t see himself walking down to the bus stop and getting on it in stockinged feet. Boylan’s socks.
He went back into the living room, enjoying Chopin. Boylan stopped playing and stood up and touched Rudolph’s elbow formally as he led him to the table, where Perkins was pouring the white wine. The trout lay in a deep copper dish, in a kind of broth. Rudolph was disappointed. He liked trout fried.
They sat down facing each other. There were three glasses in front of each place, and a lot of cutlery. Perkins transferred the trout to a silver platter, with small boiled potatoes on it. Perkins stood over Rudolph and Rudolph served himself cautiously, uneasy with all the implements and determined to seem at ease.
“Truit au bleu,” Boylan said. Rudolph was pleased to note that he had a bad accent, or at least different from Miss Lenaut’s. “Cook does it quite well.”
“Blue trout,” Rudolph said. “That’s the way they cook it in France.” He couldn’t help showing off on this one subject, after Boylan’s phoney accent.
“How do you know?” Boylan looked at him questioningly. “Have you ever been in France?”
“No. In school. We get a little French newspaper for students every week and there was an article about cooking.”
Boylan helped himself generously. He had a good appetite. “Tu parles français?”