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diff --git a/20485-tei/20485-tei.tei b/20485-tei/20485-tei.tei new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d74119 --- /dev/null +++ b/20485-tei/20485-tei.tei @@ -0,0 +1,9676 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1" ?> + +<!-- +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lunatic at Large by J. Storer Clouston + + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no +restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under +the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or +online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license + + + +Title: The Lunatic at Large + +Author: J. Storer Clouston + +Release Date: January 30, 2007 [Ebook #20485] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-88591-1 +--> + +<!DOCTYPE TEI.2 SYSTEM "http://www.gutenberg.org/tei/marcello/0.4/dtd/pgtei.dtd"> + +<TEI.2 lang="en"> + +<teiHeader> + <fileDesc> + <titleStmt> + <title>The Lunatic at Large</title> + <author><name reg="Clouston, J. Storer">J. Storer Clouston</name></author> + </titleStmt> + <editionStmt> + <edition n="1">Edition 1</edition> + </editionStmt> + <publicationStmt> + <publisher>Project Gutenberg</publisher> + <date value="2007-01-30">January 30, 2007</date> + <idno type="etext-no">20485</idno> + <idno type='DPid'>projectID4536decf9d134</idno> + <availability> + <p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and + with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it + away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg + License online at www.gutenberg.org/license</p> + </availability> + </publicationStmt> + <sourceDesc> + <bibl> + <title>The Lunatic at Large</title> + <author>J. Storer Clouston</author> + <imprint> + <publisher>Brentano's</publisher> + <pubPlace>New York</pubPlace> + <date>1915</date> + </imprint> + </bibl> + </sourceDesc> + </fileDesc> + <encodingDesc> + <projectDesc> + <p>Produced by Roland Schlenker + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at + <http://www.pgdp.net/c></p> + <p>Page-images available at + <http://www.pgdp.net/projects/projectID4536decf9d134/></p> + </projectDesc> + <editorialDecl> + <p>The Proofreading and Formatting Guidelines Version 1.9.c, + generated January 1, 2006 at <http://www.pgdp.net/> were + used to transcribe this text.</p> + <p>Corrections were made when it was obvious a mistake was made + in the original text. An errata is supplied to locate these + corrections.</p> + <p>Quotation marks have been changed to TEI + encoding <q> and </q>.</p> + <p>Hyphenated words at the end of line or end of page have had + their hyphens removed. The second part of the hyphenated word + has been moved to the previous line or page. No information + has been kept as to the location of these changes.</p> + <p>Characters not in ASCII 7-bit have been changed to TEI + entities.</p> + <p>The original book had no table of contents. A table of contents + was made for this electronic edition.</p> + </editorialDecl> + <classDecl> + <taxonomy id="lc"> + <bibl> + <title>Library of Congress Classification</title> + </bibl> + </taxonomy> + </classDecl> + </encodingDesc> + <profileDesc> + <langUsage> + <language id="en">English</language> + </langUsage> + <textClass> + <classCode scheme="lc">PS</classCode> + <classCode scheme="lc">PZ</classCode> + <keywords scheme="lc"> + <list> + <item>American literature -- + By period -- 20th century</item> + <item>American literature -- + Individual authors -- 1900-1960</item> + <item>Fiction and juvenile belles lettres -- + Fiction in English</item> + </list> + </keywords> + </textClass> + </profileDesc> + <revisionDesc> + <change> + <date value="2007-01-30">January 30, 2007</date> + <respStmt> + <name>Roland Schlenker and<lb/></name> + <name>Online Distributed Proofreading Team</name> + </respStmt> + <item>Project Gutenberg Edition</item> + </change> + </revisionDesc> +</teiHeader> + +<text lang="en"> + +<front> + <div> + <divGen type="pgheader"/> + </div> + + <div> + <divGen type="encodingDesc"/> + </div> + + <titlePage rend="page-break-before: right; text-align: center"> + <pb n="3"/><anchor id="Pg3"/> + <docTitle> + <titlePart type="main"> + <hi rend="font-size: 175%">THE</hi><lb/> + <hi rend="font-size: 200%">LUNATIC AT LARGE</hi><lb/> + <lb/> + </titlePart> + <titlePart> + <hi rend="font-size: 150%; font-style: italic">A NOVEL</hi><lb/> + <lb/> + </titlePart> + </docTitle> + <byline> + <hi rend="font-size: 75%">BY</hi><lb/> + <docAuthor> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">J. STORER CLOUSTON</hi><lb/> + <lb/> + </docAuthor> + </byline> + <docEdition> + <hi rend="font-size: 75%">AUTHORIZED EDITION</hi><lb/> + <lb/> + </docEdition> + <docImprint> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">BRENTANO’S</hi><lb/> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">NEW YORK</hi><lb/> + </docImprint> + <docDate> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">1915</hi><lb/> + </docDate> + </titlePage> + + <div rend="page-break-before: right"> + <index index="pdf"/> + <head rend="text-align: center">CONTENTS</head> + <divGen type="toc"/> + </div> +</front> + +<body> +<!-- <pb n="1"/><anchor id="Pg1"/> + +THE LUNATIC AT LARGE --> + +<!-- <pb n="2"/><anchor id="Pg2"/> +[Blank Page] --> + +<!-- <pb n="3"/><anchor id="Pg3"/> + +THE +LUNATIC AT LARGE + +<hi rend="font-style: italic">A NOVEL</hi> + +BY +J. STORER CLOUSTON + +AUTHORIZED EDITION + +BRENTANO’S +NEW YORK +1915 --> + +<!-- <pb n="4"/><anchor id="Pg4"/> +[Blank Page] --> + +<div rend="page-break-before: right" id="LLi" type="introductory"> +<pb n="5"/><anchor id="Pg5"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head type="sub" rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 150%">THE LUNATIC AT LARGE.</hi> +</head> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">INTRODUCTORY.</hi> +</head> + +<p>Into the history of Mr Francis Beveridge, as supplied +by the obliging candour of the Baron von +Blitzenberg and the notes of Dr Escott, Dr Twiddel +and his friend Robert Welsh make a kind of +explanatory entry. They most effectually set the ball +a-rolling, and so the story starts in a small room looking +out on a very uninteresting London street.</p> + +<p>It was about three o’clock on a November afternoon, +that season of fogs and rains and mud, when towns-people +long for fresh air and hillsides, and country-folk +think wistfully of the warmth and lights of a city, when +nobody is satisfied, and everybody has a cold. Outside +the window of the room there were a few feet of earth +adorned with a low bush or two, a line of railings, a stone-paved +street, and on the other side a long row of uniform +yellow brick houses. The apartment itself was a modest +chamber, containing a minimum of rented furniture and +a flickering gas-stove. By a small caseful of medical +treatises and a conspicuous stethoscope, the least experienced +could see that it was labelled consulting-room.</p> +<pb n="6"/><anchor id="Pg6"/> + +<p>Dr Twiddel was enjoying one of those moments of +repose that occur even in the youngest practitioner’s +existence. For the purposes of this narrative he may briefly +be described as an amiable-looking young man, with a +little bit of fair moustache and still less chin, no practice +to speak of, and a considerable quantity of unpaid bills. +A man of such features and in such circumstances invites +temptation. At the present moment, though his waistcoat +was unbuttoned and his feet rested on the mantelpiece, +his mind seemed not quite at ease. He looked +back upon a number of fortunate events that had not +occurred, and forward to various unpleasant things that +might occur, and then he took a letter from his pocket +and read it abstractedly.</p> + +<p><q>I can’t afford to refuse,</q> he reflected, lugubriously; +<q>and yet, hang it! I must say I don’t fancy the job.</q></p> + +<p>When metal is molten it can be poured into any vessel; +and at that moment a certain deep receptacle stood on the +very doorstep.</p> + +<p>The doctor heard the bell, sat up briskly, stuffed the +letter back into his pocket, and buttoned his waistcoat.</p> + +<p><q>A patient at last!</q> and instantly there arose a +vision of a simple operation, a fabulous fee, and twelve +sickly millionaires an hour ever after. The door opened, +and a loud voice hailed him familiarly.</p> + +<p><q>Only Welsh,</q> he sighed, and the vision went the way +of all the others.</p> + +<p>The gentleman who swaggered in and clapped the +doctor on the back, who next threw himself into the +easiest chair and his hat and coat over the table, was in +<pb n="7"/><anchor id="Pg7"/> +fact Mr Robert Welsh. From the moment he entered +he pervaded the room; the stethoscope seemed to grow +less conspicuous, Dr Twiddel’s chin more diminutive, +the apartment itself a mere background to this guest. +Why? It would be hard to say precisely. He was a +black-moustached, full-faced man, with an air of the +most consummate assurance, and a person by some +deemed handsome. Yet somehow or other he inevitably +recalled the uncles of history. Perhaps this assurance +alone gave him his atmosphere. You could have felt +his egotism in the dark.</p> + +<p>He talked in a loud voice and with a great air of mastery +over all the contingencies of a life about town. You +felt that here sat one who had seen the world and gave +things their proper proportions, who had learned how +meretricious was orthodoxy, and which bars could really +be recommended. He chaffed, patronised, and cheered +the doctor. Patients had been scarce, had they? Well, +after all, there were many consolations. Did Twiddle +say he was hard up? Welsh himself in an even more +evil case. He narrated various unfortunate transactions +connected with the turf and other pursuits, with regret, +no doubt, and yet with a fine rakish defiance of destiny. +Twiddel’s face cleared, and he began to show something +of the same gallant spirit. He brought out a tall bottle +with a Celtic superscription; Welsh half filled his glass, +poured in some water from a dusty decanter, and proposed +the toast of <q>Luck to the two most deserving sinners in +London!</q></p> + +<p>The doctor was fired, he drew the same letter from his +<pb n="8"/><anchor id="Pg8"/> +pocket, and cried, <q>By Jove, Welsh, I’d almost forgotten +to tell you of a lucky offer that came this morning.</q></p> + +<p>This was not strictly true, for as a matter of fact the +doctor had only hesitated to tell of this offer lest he should +be shamed to a decision. But Welsh was infectious.</p> + +<p><q>Congratulations, old man!</q> said his friend. <q>What’s +it all about?</q></p> + +<p><q>Here’s a letter from an old friend of my +people’s—Dr Watson, by name. He has a very good +country practice, and he offers me this job.</q></p> + +<p>He handed the letter to Welsh, and then added, with a +flutter of caution, <q>I haven’t made up my mind yet. +There are drawbacks, as you’ll see.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh opened the letter and read:—</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q><hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">Dear Twiddel</hi>,—I + am happy to tell you that I am + at last able to put something in your way. A gentleman + in this neighbourhood, one of my most esteemed patients, + has lately suffered from a severe mental and physical + shock, followed by brain fever, and is still, I regret to + say, in an extremely unstable mental condition. I have + strongly recommended quiet and change of scene, and at + my suggestion he is to be sent abroad under the care of a + medical attendant. I have now much pleasure in offering + you the post, if you would care to accept it. You will + find your patient, Mr Mandell-Essington, an extremely + agreeable young man when in possession of his proper + faculties. He has large means and no near relatives; + he comes of one of the best families in the county; and + though he has, I surmise, sown his wild oats pretty freely, + he was considered of unusual promise previous to this + unfortunate illness. He is of an amiable and pleasant + disposition, though at present, we fear, inclined to suicidal + <pb n="9"/><anchor id="Pg9"/> + tendencies. I have no particular reason to think he is + at all homicidal; still, you will see that he naturally requires + most careful watching. It is possible that you may + hesitate to leave your practice (which I trust prospers); + but as the responsibility is considerable, the fee will be + proportionately generous—£500, and all expenses paid.</q></p> + + <p><hi rend="font-size: 100%">(<q>Five hundred quid!</q> exclaimed + Welsh.)</hi></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">I would suggest a trip on the Continent. The + duration and the places to be visited will be entirely at your + discretion. It is of course hardly necessary to say that + you will seek quiet localities. Trusting to hear from you + at your very earliest convenience, believe me, yours sincerely,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"> + <hi rend="font-variant: small-caps;">Timothy Watson</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p>Welsh looked at his friend with the respect that prosperity +naturally excites. He smiled on him as an equal, +and cried, heartily, <q>Congratulations again! When do +you start?</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel fidgeted uncomfortably, <q>I—er—well, you +see—ah—I haven’t +<hi rend="font-style: italic">quite</hi> made up my mind yet.</q></p> + +<p><q>What’s the matter?</q></p> + +<p><q>Hang it, Welsh—er—the fact is I don’t altogether +like the job.</q></p> + +<p>Scruples of any kind always surprised Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>Can’t afford to leave the practice?</q> he asked with +a laugh.</p> + +<p><q>That’s—ah—partly the reason,</q> replied Twiddel, +uncomfortably.</p> + +<p><q>Rot, old man! There’s a girl in the case. Out +with it!</q></p> + +<p><q>No, it isn’t that. You see it’s the very devil of a +responsibility.</q></p> +<pb n="10"/><anchor id="Pg10"/> + +<p>At this confession of weakness he looked guiltily at his +heroic friend. From the bottom of his heart he wished +he had screwed up his courage in private. Welsh had so +little imagination.</p> + +<p><q>By Gad,</q> exclaimed Welsh, <q>I’d manage a nunnery +for £500!</q></p> + +<p><q>I daresay you would, but a suicidal, and possibly +homicidal, lunatic isn’t a nunnery.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh looked at his friend with diminished respect.</p> + +<p><q>Then you are going to chuck up £500 and a free trip +on the Continent?</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>Dr Watson himself admits the responsibility.</q></p> + +<p><q>With a—what is it?—agreeable young man?</q></p> + +<p><q>Only when in possession of his proper faculties,</q> +said the doctor, dismally.</p> + +<p><q>And an amiable disposition?</q></p> + +<p><q>With suicidal tendencies, hang it!</q></p> + +<p><q>I should have thought,</q> said Welsh, with a laugh, +<q>that they would only matter to himself.</q></p> + +<p><q>But he is homicidal too—or at least it’s doubtful. +I want to know a little more about that, thank you!</q></p> + +<p><q>What is the man’s name?</q></p> + +<p><q>Mandell-Essington.</q></p> + +<p><q>Sounds aristocratic. He might come in useful afterwards, +when he’s cured.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh spoke with an air of reflection, which might have +been entirely disinterested.</p> + +<p><q>He’d probably commit suicide first,</q> said Twiddel, +<q>and of course I’d get all the blame.</q></p> + +<p><q>Or homicide,</q> replied Welsh, <q>When +<hi rend="font-style: italic">he</hi> would.</q></p> +<pb n="11"/><anchor id="Pg11"/> + +<p><q>No, he wouldn’t—that’s the worst of it; +I’d be blamed for having my own throat cut.</q></p> + +<p><q>Twiddel,</q> said his friend, deliberately, <q>it seems to +me you’re a fool.</q></p> + +<p><q>I’m at least alive,</q> cried Twiddel, warming with +sympathy for himself, <q>which I probably wouldn’t be for +long in Mr Essington’s company.</q></p> + +<p><q>I don’t blame your nerves, dear boy,</q> said Welsh, +with a smile that showed all his teeth, <q>only your head. +Here are £500 going a-begging. There must be some +way&qdash;</q> He paused, deep in reflection. <q>How would +it do,</q> he remarked in a minute, <q>if +<hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> were to go in your place?</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel laughed and shook his head.</p> + +<p><q>Couldn’t be managed?</q></p> + +<p><q>Couldn’t possibly, I’m afraid.</q></p> + +<p><q>No,</q> said Welsh. <q>I foresee difficulties.</q></p> + +<p>He fished a pipe out of his pocket, filled and lit it, and +leaned back in his chair gazing at the ceiling.</p> + +<p><q>Twiddel, my boy,</q> he said at length, <q>will you give +me a percentage of the fee if I think of a safe dodge for +getting the money and preserving your throat?</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel laughed.</p> + +<p><q>Rather!</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>I am perfectly serious,</q> replied Welsh, keenly. <q>I’m +certain the thing is quite possible.</q></p> + +<p>He half closed his eyes and ruminated in silence. The +doctor watched him—fascinated, afraid. Somehow or +other he felt that he was already a kind of Guy Fawkes. +There was something so unlawful in Welsh’s expression.</p> +<pb n="12"/><anchor id="Pg12"/> + +<p>They sat there without speaking for about ten minutes, +and then all of a sudden Welsh sprang up with a shout of +laughter, slapping first his own leg and then the doctor’s +back.</p> + +<p><q>By Gad, I’ve got it!</q> he cried. <q>I have it!</q></p> + +<p>And he had; hence this tale.</p> +</div> + +<div rend="page-break-before: always" id="LL0100" type="part"> +<pb n="13"/><anchor id="Pg13"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">PART I.</hi> +</head> + +<div id="LL0101" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER I.</hi> +</head> + +<p>In a certain fertile and well-wooded county of England +there stands a high stone wall. On a sunny +day the eye of the traveller passing through this +province is gratified by the sparkle of myriads of +broken bottles arranged closely and continuously along its +coping-stone. Above these shining facets the boughs of +tall trees swing in the wind and throw their shadows +across the highway. The wall at last leaves the road and +follows the park round its entire extent. Its height never +varies; the broken bottles glitter perpetually; and only +through two entrances, and that when the gates are open, +can one gain a single glimpse inside: for the gates are +solid, with no chinks for the curious.</p> + +<p>The country all round is undulating, and here and +there from the crest of an eminence you can see a great +space of well-timbered park land within this wall; and +in winter, when the leaves are off the trees, you may +spy an imposing red-brick mansion in the midst.</p> + +<p>Any native will inform you, with a mixture of infectious +awe and becoming pride, that this is no less than the +far-famed private asylum of Clankwood.</p> + +<p>This ideal institution bore the enviable reputation of +<pb n="14"/><anchor id="Pg14"/> +containing the best-bred lunatics in England. It was +credibly reported that however well marked their symptoms +and however well developed their delusions, none but +ladies and gentlemen of the most unblemished descent +were permitted to enjoy its seclusion. The dances there +were universally considered the most agreeable functions +in the county. The conversation of many of the inmates +was of the widest range and the most refreshing +originality, and the demeanour of all, even when most +free from the conventional trammels of outside society, +bore evidence of an expensive, and in some cases of a +Christian, upbringing. This is scarcely to be wondered +at, when beneath one roof were assembled the heirs-presumptive +to three dukedoms, two suicidal marquises, +an odd archbishop or so, and the flower of the baronetage +and clergy. As this list only includes a few of the celebrities +able or willing to be introduced to distinguished +visitors, and makes no mention of the uncorroborated +dignities (such as the classical divinities and Old Testament +duplicates), the anxiety shown by some people to +certify their relations can easily be understood.</p> + +<p>Dr Congleton, the proprietor and physician of Clankwood, +was a gentleman singularly well fitted to act as +host on the occasion of asylum reunions. No one could +exceed him in the respect he showed to a coroneted head, +even when cracked; and a bishop under his charge was +always secured, as far as possible, from the least whisper +of heretical conversation. He possessed besides a pleasant +rubicund countenance and an immaculate wardrobe. +He was further fortunate in having in his assistants, +<pb n="15"/><anchor id="Pg15"/> +Dr Escott and Dr Sherlaw, two young gentlemen whose +medical knowledge was almost equal to the affability +of their manners and the excellence of their family connections.</p> + +<p>One November night these two were sitting over a +comfortable fire in Sherlaw’s room. Twelve o’clock +struck, Escott finished the remains of something in a +tumbler, rose, and yawned sleepily.</p> + +<p><q>Time to turn in, young man,</q> said he.</p> + +<p><q>I suppose it is,</q> replied Sherlaw, a very pleasant +and boyish young gentleman. <q>Hullo! What’s that? +A cab?</q></p> + +<p>They both listened, and some way off they could just +pick out a sound like wheels upon gravel.</p> + +<p><q>It’s very late for any one to be coming in,</q> said +Escott.</p> + +<p>The sound grew clearer and more unmistakably like a +cab rattling quickly up the drive.</p> + +<p><q>It is a cab,</q> said Sherlaw.</p> + +<p>They heard it draw up before the front door, and then +there came a pause.</p> + +<p><q>Who the deuce can it be?</q> muttered Escott.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes there came a knock at the door, and +a servant entered.</p> + +<p><q>A new case, sir. Want’s to +see Dr Congleton particular.</q></p> + +<p><q>A man or a woman?</q></p> + +<p><q>Man, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>All right,</q> growled Sherlaw. <q>I’ll come, confound +him.</q></p> +<pb n="16"/><anchor id="Pg16"/> + +<p><q>Bad luck, old man,</q> laughed Escott. <q>I’ll wait +here in case by any chance you want me.</q></p> + +<p>He fell into his chair again, lit a cigarette, and sleepily +turned over the pages of a book. Dr Sherlaw was away +for a little time, and when he returned his cheerful face +wore a somewhat mystified expression.</p> + +<p><q>Well?</q> asked Escott.</p> + +<p><q>Rather a rum case,</q> said his colleague, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p><q>What’s the matter?</q></p> + +<p><q>Don’t know.</q></p> + +<p><q>Who was it?</q></p> + +<p><q>Don’t know that either.</q></p> + +<p>Escott opened his eyes.</p> + +<p><q>What happened, then?</q></p> + +<p><q>Well,</q> said Sherlaw, drawing his chair up to the fire +again, <q rend="post: none">I’ll tell you just what did happen, +and you can make what you can out of it. Of course, I suppose +it’s all right, really, but—well, the proceedings were +a little unusual, don’t you know.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none">I went down to the door, and there I found +a four-wheeler with a man standing beside it. The door of +the cab was shut, and there seemed to be two more men +inside. This chap who’d got out—a youngish man—hailed +me at once as though he’d bought the whole +place.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>You Dr Congleton?</q></q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>Damn your impertinence!</q> +I said to myself, <q>ringing people up at this hour, and +talking like a bally drill-sergeant.</q></q></p> +<pb n="17"/><anchor id="Pg17"/> + +<p><q rend="post: none">I told him politely I wasn’t +old Congers, but that I’d make a good enough substitute +for the likes of him.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>I tell you what it is,</q> said the +Johnnie, <q>I’ve brought a patient for Dr Congleton, a +cousin of mine, and I’ve got a doctor here, too. I want +to see Dr Congleton.</q></q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>He’s probably in bed,</q> I said, +<q>but I’ll do just as well. I suppose he’s certified, +and all that.</q></q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>Oh, it’s all right,</q> said the +man, rather as though he expected me to say that it wasn’t. +He looked a little doubtful what to do, and then I heard some one +inside the cab call him. He stuck his head in the window and +they confabbed for a minute, and then he turned to me +and said, with the most magnificent air you ever saw, +like a chap buying a set of diamond studs, <q>My friend here +is a great personal friend of Dr Congleton, and it’s a +damned&qdash; I mean it’s an uncommonly delicate matter. +We must see him.</q></q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>Well, if you insist, I’ll see +if I can get him,</q> I said; +<q>but you’d better come in and wait.</q></q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none">So the Johnnie opened the door of the +cab, and there was a great hauling and pushing, my friend pulling +an arm from the outside, and the doctor shoving from within, +and at last they fetched out their patient. He was a +tall man, in a very smart-looking, long, light top-coat, +and a cap with a large peak shoved over his eyes, and he +seemed very unsteady on his pins.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>Drunk, by George!</q> I said to myself +at first.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none">The doctor—another young-looking +man—hopped out after him, and they each took an arm, lugged +their patient into the waiting-room, and popped him into an armchair. +<pb n="18"/><anchor id="Pg18"/> +There he collapsed, and sat with his head hanging +down as limp as a sucked orange.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none">I asked them if anything was the matter +with him.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>Only tired,—just a little +sleepy,</q> said the cousin.</q></p> + +<p><q>And do you know, Escott, what I’d stake my best +boots was the matter with him?</q></p> + +<p><q>What?</q></p> + +<p><q>The man was drugged!</q></p> + +<p>Escott looked at the fire thoughtfully.</p> + +<p><q>Well,</q> he said, <q>it’s quite possible; he might have +been too violent to manage.</q></p> + +<p><q>Why couldn’t they have said so, then?</q></p> + +<p><q>H’m. Not knowing, can’t say. What happened +next?</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none">Next thing was, I asked the doctor what +name I should give. He answered in a kind of nervous way, <q>No +name; you needn’t give any name. I know Dr Congleton +personally. Ask him to come, please.</q> So off I tooled, and +found old Congers just thinking of turning in.</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><q>My clients are sometimes unnecessarily +discreet</q>, he remarked in his pompous way when I told him about +the arrival, and of course he added his usual platitude +about our reputation for discretion.</q></p> + +<p><q>I went back with him to the waiting-room, and just +stood at the door long enough to see him hail the doctor +chap very cordially and be introduced to the patient’s +cousin, and then I came away. Rather rum, isn’t +it?</q></p> + +<p><q>You’ve certainly made the best of the yarn,</q> said +Escott with a laugh.</p> +<pb n="19"/><anchor id="Pg19"/> + +<p><q>By George, if you’d been there you’d have thought +it funny too.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, good-night, I’m off. We’ll probably hear +to-morrow what it’s all about.</q></p> + +<p>But in the morning there was little more to be learned +about the new-comer’s history and antecedents. Dr +Congleton spoke of the matter to the two young men, +with the pompous cough that signified extreme discretion.</p> + +<p><q>Brought by an old friend of mine,</q> he said. <q>A +curious story, Escott, but quite intelligible. There seem +to be the best reasons for answering no questions about +him; you understand?</q></p> + +<p><q>Certainly, sir,</q> said the two assistants, with the more +assurance as they had no information to give.</p> + +<p><q>I am perfectly satisfied, mind you—perfectly satisfied,</q> +added their chief.</p> + +<p><q>By the way, sir,</q> Sherlaw ventured to remark, <q>hadn’t +they given him something in the way of a sleeping-draught?</q></p> + +<p><q>Eh? Indeed? I hardly think so, Sherlaw, I hardly +think so. Case of reaction entirely. Good morning.</q></p> + +<p><q>Congleton seems satisfied,</q> remarked Escott.</p> + +<p><q>I’ll tell you what,</q> said the junior, profoundly. +<q>Old Congers is a very good chap, and all that, but he’s +not what I should call extra sharp. +<hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> should feel uncommon +suspicious.</q></p> + +<p><q>H’m,</q> replied Escott. <q>As you say, our worthy +chief is not extra sharp. But that’s not our business, +after all.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0102" type="chapter"> +<pb n="20"/><anchor id="Pg20"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER II.</hi> +</head> + +<p><q>By the way,</q> said Escott, a couple of days later, +<q>how is your mysterious man getting on? I haven’t +seen him myself yet.</q></p> + +<p>Sherlaw laughed.</p> + +<p><q>He’s turning out a regular sportsman, by George! +For the first day he was more or less in the same state in +which he arrived. Then he began to wake up and ask +questions. <q>What the devil is this place?</q> he said to me +in the evening. It may sound profane, but he was very +polite, I assure you. I told him, and he sort of raised +his eyebrows, smiled, and thanked me like a Prime +Minister acknowledging an obligation. Since then he +has steadily developed sporting, not to say frisky, tastes. +He went out this morning, and in five minutes had his +arm round one of the prettiest nurses’ waist. And she +didn’t seem to mind much either, by George!</q></p> + +<p><q>He’ll want a bit of looking after, I take it.</q></p> + +<p><q>Seems to me he is uncommonly capable of taking +care of himself. The rest of the establishment will want +looking after, though.</q></p> + +<p>From this time forth the mysterious gentleman began +to regularly take the air and to be remarked, and having +once remarked him, people looked again.</p> + +<p>Mr Francis Beveridge, for such it appeared was his +name, was distinguished even for Clankwood. Though +his antecedents were involved in mystery, so much confidence +<pb n="21"/><anchor id="Pg21"/> +was placed in Dr Congleton’s discrimination +that the unknown stranger was at once received on the +most friendly terms by every one; and, to tell the truth, +it would have been hard to repulse him for long. His +manner was perfect, his conversation witty to the extremest +verge of propriety, and his clothes, fashionable +in cut and of unquestionable fit, bore on such of the +buttons as were made of metal the hall mark of a leading +London firm. He wore the longest and most silky +moustaches ever seen, and beneath them a short well-tended +beard completed his resemblance—so the ladies +declared—to King Charles of unhappy memory. The +melancholic Mr Jones (quondam author of ‘Sunflowers—A +Lyrical Medley’) declared, indeed, that for Mr +Beveridge shaving was prohibited, and darkly whispered +<q>suicidal,</q> but his opinion was held of little account.</p> + +<p>It was upon a morning about a week after his arrival +that Dr Escott, alone in the billiard-room, saw him enter. +Escott had by this time made his acquaintance, and, +like almost everybody else, had already succumbed to +the fascination of his address.</p> + +<p><q>Good morning, doctor,</q> he said; <q>I wish you to do +me a trifling favour, a mere bending of your eyes.</q></p> + +<p>Escott laughed.</p> + +<p><q>I shall be delighted. What is it?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge unbuttoned his waistcoat and displayed +his shirt-front.</p> + +<p><q>I only want you to be good enough to read the inscription +written here.</q></p> + +<p>The doctor bent down.</p> +<pb n="22"/><anchor id="Pg22"/> + +<p><q><q>Francis Beveridge,</q></q> he said. <q>That’s +all I see.</q></p> + +<p><q>And that’s all I see,</q> said Mr Beveridge. <q>Now +what can you read here? I am not troubling you?</q></p> + +<p>He held out his handkerchief as he spoke.</p> + +<p><q>Not a bit,</q> laughed the doctor, <q>but I only see <q>Francis +Beveridge</q> here too, I’m afraid.</q></p> + +<p><q>Everything has got it,</q> said Mr Beveridge, shaking +his head, it would be hard to say whether humorously +or sadly. <q><q>Francis Beveridge</q> on everything. It follows, +I suppose, that I am Francis Beveridge?</q></p> + +<p><q>What else?</q> asked Escott, who was much amused.</p> + +<p><q>That’s just it. What else?</q> said the other. He +smiled a peculiarly charming smile, thanked the doctor +with exaggerated gratitude, and strolled out again.</p> + +<p><q>He is a rum chap,</q> reflected Escott.</p> + +<p>And indeed in the outside world he might safely have +been termed rather rum, but here in this backwater, +so full of the oddest flotsam, his waywardness was rather +less than the average. He had, for instance, a diverting +habit of modifying the time, and even the tune, of the +hymns on Sunday, and he confessed to having kissed +all the nurses and housemaids except three. But both +Escott and Sherlaw declared they had never met a more +congenial spirit. Mr Beveridge’s game of billiards was +quite remarkable even for Clankwood, where the enforced +leisure of many of the noblemen and gentlemen had +made them highly proficient on the spot; he showed every +promise, on his rare opportunities, of being an unusually +entertaining small hour, whisky-and-soda +<hi rend="font-style: italic">raconteur</hi>; in +fact, he was evidently a man whose previous career, +<pb n="23"/><anchor id="Pg23"/> +whatever it might have been (and his own statements +merely served to increase the mystery round this point), +had led him through many humorous by-paths, and left +him with few restrictive prejudices.</p> + +<p>November became December, and to all appearances +he had settled down in his new residence with complete +resignation, when that unknowable factor that upsets so +many calculations came upon the scene,—the factor, I +mean, that wears a petticoat.</p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge strolled into Escott’s room one morning +to find the doctor inspecting a mixed assortment of white +kid gloves.</p> + +<p><q>Do these mean past or future conquests?</q> he asked +with his smile.</p> + +<p><q>Both,</q> laughed the doctor. <q>I’m trying to pick out +a clean pair for the dance to-night.</q></p> + +<p><q>You go a-dancing, then?</q></p> + +<p><q>Don’t you know it’s our own monthly ball here?</q></p> + +<p><q>Of course,</q> said Mr Beveridge, passing his hand +quickly across his brow. <q>I must have heard, but things +pass so quickly through my head nowadays.</q></p> + +<p>He laughed a little conventional laugh, and gazed at +the gloves.</p> + +<p><q>You are coming, of course?</q> said Escott.</p> + +<p><q>If you can lend me a pair of these. Can you spare +one?</q></p> + +<p><q>Help yourself,</q> replied the doctor.</p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge selected a pair with the care of a man +who is particular in such matters, put them in his pocket, +thanked the doctor, and went out.</p> +<pb n="24"/><anchor id="Pg24"/> + +<p><q>Hope he doesn’t play the fool,</q> thought Escott.</p> + +<p>Invitations to the balls at Clankwood were naturally +in great demand throughout the county, for nowhere +were noblemen so numerous and divinities so tangible. +Carriages and pairs rolled up one after another, the +mansion glittered with lights, the strains of the band +could be heard loud and stirring or low and faintly all +through the house.</p> + +<p><q>Who is that man dancing opposite my daughter?</q> +asked the Countess of Grillyer.</p> + +<p><q>A Mr Beveridge,</q> replied Dr Congleton.</p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge, in fact, the mark of all eyes, was dancing +in a set of lancers. The couple opposite to him consisted +of a stout elderly gentleman who, doubtless for the best +reasons, styled himself the Emperor of the two Americas, +and a charming little pink and flaxen partner—the Lady +Alicia à Fyre, as everybody who was anybody could have +told you. The handsome stranger moved, as might be +expected, with his accustomed grace and air of distinction, +and, probably to convince his admirers that there +was nothing meretricious in his performance, he carried +his hands in his pockets the whole time. This certainly +caused a little inconvenience to his partner, but to be +characteristic in Clankwood one had to step very far out +of the beaten track.</p> + +<p>For two figures the Emperor snorted disapproval, +but at the end of the third, when Mr Beveridge had been +skipping round the outskirts of the set, his hands still +thrust out of sight, somewhat to the derangement of the +customary procedure, he could contain himself no longer.</p> +<pb n="25"/><anchor id="Pg25"/> + +<p><q>Hey, young man!</q> he asked in his most stentorian +voice, as the music ceased, <q>are you afraid of having your +pockets picked?</q></p> + +<p><q>Alas!</q> replied Mr Beveridge, <q>it would take two men +to do that.</q></p> + +<p><q>Huh!</q> snorted the Emperor, <q>you are so d—d strong, +are you?</q></p> + +<p><q>I mean,</q> answered his +<hi rend="font-style: italic">vis-à-vis</hi> with his polite smile, +<q>that it would take one man to put something in and +another to take it out.</q></p> + +<p>This remark not only turned the laugh entirely on Mr +Beveridge’s side, but it introduced the upsetting factor.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0103" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER III.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Lady Alicia à Fyre, though of the outer everyday +world herself, had, in common with most families of any +pretensions to ancient dignity, a creditable sprinkling +of uncles and cousins domiciled in Clankwood, and so +she frequently attended these dances.</p> + +<p>To-night her eye had been caught by a tall, graceful +figure executing a <hi rend="font-style: italic">pas seul</hi> +in the middle of the room with +its hands in its pockets. The face of this gentleman was +so composed and handsome, and he seemed so oblivious +to the presence of everybody else, that her interest was +immediately excited. During the set of lancers in which +he was her <hi rend="font-style: italic">vis-à-vis</hi> she +watched him furtively with a +growing feeling of admiration. She had never heard him +<pb n="26"/><anchor id="Pg26"/> +say a word, and it was with a sensation of the liveliest +interest that she listened to his brief passage with her +partner. At his final retort her tender heart was overcome +with pity. He was poor, then, or at least he was +allowed the use of no money. And all of him that was +outside his pockets seemed so sane and so gentlemanly; +it seemed a pity to let him lack a little sympathy.</p> + +<p>The Lady Alicia might be described as a becoming +frock stuffed with sentiment. Through a pair of large +blue eyes she drank in romance, and with the reddest +and most undecided of lips she felt a vague desire to kiss +something. At the end of the dance she managed by +a series of little manœuvres to find herself standing close +to his elbow. She sighed twice, but he still seemed absorbed +in his thoughts. Then with a heroic effort she +summed up her courage, and said in a low and rather +shaky voice, <q>You—you—you are unha—appy.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge turned and looked down on her with +great interest. Her eyes met his for a moment and +straightway sought the floor. Thus she saw nothing of +a smile that came and went like the shadow of a puff of +smoke. He took his hands out of his pockets, folded his +arms, and, with an air of the deepest dejection, sighed +heavily. She took courage and looked up again, and then, +as he only gazed into space in the most romantically melancholy +fashion and made no answer, she asked again +very timidly, <q>Wh—what is the matter?</q></p> + +<p>Without saying a word Mr Beveridge bent courteously +and offered her his right arm. She took it with the +most delicious trepidation, glancing round hurriedly to see +<pb n="27"/><anchor id="Pg27"/> +whether the Countess noticed her. Another dance was +just beginning, and in the general movement her mysterious +acquaintance led her without observation to a +seat in the window of a corridor. There he pressed her +hand gently, stroked his long moustaches for a minute, +and then said, with an air of reflection: <q>There are three +ways of making a woman like one. I am slightly out of +practice. Would you be kind enough to suggest a +method of procedure?</q></p> + +<p>Such a beginning was so wholly unexpected that Lady +Alicia could only give a little gasp of consternation. +Her companion, after pausing an instant for a reply, +went on in the same tone, <q>I am aware that I have begun +well. I attracted your attention, I elicited your sympathy, +and I pressed your hand; but for the life of me I can’t +remember what I generally do next.</q></p> + +<p>Poor Lady Alicia, who had come with a bucketful of +sympathy ready to be gulped down by this unfortunate +gentleman, was only able to stammer, <q>I—I really +don’t know, Mr&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Hamilton,</q> said Mr Beveridge, unblushingly. <q>At +least that name belongs to me as much as anything can +be said to in a world where my creditors claim my money +and Dr Congleton my person.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are confined and poor, you mean?</q> asked Lady +Alicia, beginning to see her way again.</p> + +<p><q>Poor and confined, to put them in their proper order, +for if I had the wherewithal to purchase a balloon I should +certainly cease to be confined.</q></p> + +<p>His admirer found it hard to reply adequately to this, +<pb n="28"/><anchor id="Pg28"/> +and Mr Beveridge continued, <q>To return to the delicate +subject from which we strayed, what would you like me to +do,—put my arm round your waist, relate my troubles, +or turn my back on you?</q></p> + +<p><q>Are—are those the three ways you spoke of—to +make women like you, I mean?</q> Lady Alicia ventured to +ask, though she was beginning to wish the sofa was +larger.</p> + +<p><q>They are examples of the three classical methods: +cuddling, humbugging, and piquing. Which do you +prefer?</q></p> + +<p><q>Tell me about your—your troubles,</q> she answered, +gaining courage a little.</p> + +<p><q>You belong to the sex which makes no mention of +figs and spades,</q> he rejoined; <q>but I understand you to +mean that you prefer humbugging.</q></p> + +<p>He drew a long face, sighed twice, and looking tenderly +into Lady Alicia’s blue eyes, began in a gentle, reminiscent +voice, <q>My boyhood was troubled and unhappy: no kind +words, no caresses. I was beaten by a cruel stepfather, +ignored and insulted for my physical deformities by a +heartless stepmother.</q></p> + +<p>He stopped to sigh again, and Lady Alicia, with a boldness +that surprised herself, and a perspicacity that would +have surprised her friends, asked, <q>How could they—I +mean, were they <hi rend="font-style: italic">both</hi> step?</q></p> + +<p><q>Several steps,</q> he replied; <q>in fact, quite a long +journey.</q></p> + +<p>With this explanation Lady Alicia was forced to remain +satisfied; but as he had paused a second time, and seemed +<pb n="29"/><anchor id="Pg29"/> +to be immersed in the study of his shoes, she inquired +again, <q>You spoke of physical infirmities; do you +mean&qdash;?</q></p> + +<p><q>Deformities,</q> he corrected; <q>up to the age of fourteen +years I could only walk sideways, and my hair parted in +the middle.</q></p> + +<p>He spoke so seriously that these unusual maladies +seemed to her the most touching misfortunes she had +ever heard of. She murmured gently, <q>Yes?</q></p> + +<p><q>As the years advanced,</q> Mr Beveridge continued, +<q>and I became more nearly the same weight as my stepfather, +my life grew happier. It was decided to send me +to college, so I was provided with an insufficient cheque, +a complete set of plated forks, and three bath-towels, +and despatched to the University of Oxford. At least +I think that was the name of the corporation which took +my money and endeavoured to restrict my habits, though, +to confess the truth, my memory is not what it used to be. +There I learned wisdom by the practice of folly—the +most amusing and effective method. My tutor used to +tell me I had some originality. I apologised for its presence +in such a respectable institution, and undertook +to pass an examination instead. I believe I succeeded: +I certainly remember giving a dinner to celebrate something. +Thereupon at my own expense the University +inflicted a degree upon me, but I was shortly afterwards +compensated by the death of my uncle and my accession +to his estates. Having enjoyed a university education, +and accordingly possessing a corrected and regulated +sentiment, I was naturally inconsolable at the decease of +<pb n="30"/><anchor id="Pg30"/> +this venerable relative, who for so long had shown a +kindly interest in the poor orphan lad.</q></p> + +<p>He stopped to sigh again, and Lady Alicia asked with +great interest, <q>But your step-parents, you always had +them, hadn’t you?</q></p> + +<p><q>Never!</q> he replied, sadly.</p> + +<p><q>Never?</q> she exclaimed in some bewilderment.</p> + +<p><q>Certainly not often,</q> he answered, <q>and oftener than +not, never. If you had told me beforehand you wished +to hear my history, I should have pruned my family +tree into a more presentable shape. But if you will +kindly tell me as I go along which of my relatives you +disapprove of, and who you would like to be introduced, +I shall arrange the plot to suit you.</q></p> + +<p><q>I only wish to hear the true story, Mr Hamilton.</q></p> + +<p><q>Fortescue,</q> he corrected. <q>I certainly prefer to be +called by one name at a time, but never by the same +twice running.</q></p> + +<p>He smiled so agreeably as he said this that Lady Alicia, +though puzzled and a little hurt, could not refrain from +smiling back.</p> + +<p><q>Let me hear the rest,</q> she said.</p> + +<p><q>It is no truer than the first part, but quite as entertaining. +So, if you like, I shall endeavour to recall the +series of painful episodes that brought me to Clankwood,</q> +he answered, very seriously.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia settled herself comfortably into one corner of +the sofa and prepared to feel affected. But at that moment +the portly form of Dr Congleton appeared from the direction +of the ballroom with a still more portly dowager on his arm.</p> +<pb n="31"/><anchor id="Pg31"/> + +<p><q>My mother!</q> exclaimed Lady Alicia, rising quickly +to her feet.</p> + +<p><q>Indeed?</q> said Mr Beveridge, who still kept his seat. +<q>She certainly looks handsome enough.</q></p> + +<p>This speech made Lady Alicia blush very becomingly, +and the Countess looked at her sharply.</p> + +<p><q>Where have you been, Alicia?</q></p> + +<p><q>The room was rather warm, mamma, and&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>In short, madam,</q> interrupted Mr Beveridge, rising +and bowing, <q>your charming daughter wished to study +a lunatic at close quarters. I am mad, and I obligingly +raved. Thus&qdash;</q> He ran one hand through his hair +so as to make it fall over his eyes, blew out his cheeks, +and uttering a yell, sprang high into the air, and descended +in a sitting posture on the floor.</p> + +<p><q>That, madam, is a very common symptom,</q> he explained, +with a smile, smoothing down his hair again, <q>as +our friend Dr Congleton will tell you.</q></p> + +<p>Both the doctor and the Countess were too astonished +to make any reply, so he turned again to Lady Alicia, +and offering his arm, said, <q>Let me lead you back to our +fellow-fools.</q></p> + +<p><q>Is he safe?</q> whispered the Countess.</p> + +<p><q>I—I believe so,</q> replied Dr Congleton in some +confusion; <q>but I shall have him watched more carefully.</q></p> + +<p>As they entered the room Mr Beveridge whispered, +<q>Will you meet a poor lunatic again?</q> And the Lady +Alicia pressed his arm.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0104" type="chapter"> +<pb n="32"/><anchor id="Pg32"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER IV.</hi> +</head> + +<p>On the morning after the dance Dr Congleton summoned +Dr Escott to his room.</p> + +<p><q>Escott,</q> he began, <q>we must keep a little sharper +eye on Mr Beveridge.</q></p> + +<p><q>Indeed, sir?</q> said Escott; <q>he seems to me harmless +enough.</q></p> + +<p><q>Nevertheless, he must be watched. Lady Grillyer +was considerably alarmed by his conduct last night, +and a client who has confided so many of her relatives +to my care must be treated with the greatest regard. I +receive pheasants at Christmas from no fewer than fourteen +families of title, and my reputation for discretion +is too valuable to be risked. When Mr Beveridge is +not under your own eyes you must see that Moggridge +always keeps him in sight.</q></p> + +<p>Accordingly Moggridge, a burly and seasoned attendant +on refractory patients, was told off to keep an unobtrusive +eye on that accomplished gentleman. His duties appeared +light enough, for, as I have said, Mr Beveridge’s eccentricities +had hitherto been merely of the most playful +nature.</p> + +<p>After luncheon on this same day he gave Escott twelve +breaks and a beating at billiards, and then having borrowed +and approved of one of his cigars, he strolled into +the park. If he intended to escape observation, he certainly +showed the most skilful strategy, for he dodged +<pb n="33"/><anchor id="Pg33"/> +deviously through the largest trees, and at last, after a +roundabout ramble, struck a sheltered walk that ran +underneath the high, glass-decked outer wall. It was +a sunny winter afternoon. The boughs were stripped, +and the leaves lay littered on the walk or flickered and +stirred through the grass. In this spot the high trees +stood so close and the bare branches were so thick that +there was still an air of quiet and seclusion where he +paced and smoked. Every now and then he stopped and +listened and looked at his watch, and as he walked backwards +and forwards an amused smile would come and go.</p> + +<p>All at once he heard something move on the far side +of the wall: he paused to make sure, and then he whistled, +<corr sic="The"><anchor id="E1"/><ref target="e1">the</ref></corr> +sounds outside ceased, and in a moment something +fell softly behind him. He turned quickly and snatched +up a little buttonhole of flowers with a still smaller note +tied to the stems.</p> + +<p><q>An uncommonly happy idea,</q> he said to himself, +looking at the missive with the air of one versed in these +matters. Then he leisurely proceeded to unfold and read +the note.</p> + +<p><q>To my friend,</q> he read, <q>if I may call you a friend, +since I have known you only <hi rend="font-style: italic">such a +short time</hi>—may I? +This is just to express my sympathy, and although I +cannot express it well, still perhaps you will forgive my +feeble effort!!</q></p> + +<p>At this point, just as he was regarding the double +mark of exclamation with reminiscent entertainment, a +plaintive voice from the other side of the wall cried in a +stage whisper, <q>Have you got it?</q></p> +<pb n="34"/><anchor id="Pg34"/> + +<p>Mr Beveridge composed his face, and heaving his +shoulders to his ears in the effort, gave vent to a prodigious +sigh.</p> + +<p><q>A million thanks, my fairest and kindest of friends,</q> +he answered in the same tone. <q>I read it now: I drink +it in, I&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>He kissed the back of his hand loudly two or three +times, sighed again, and continued his reading.</p> + +<p><q>I wish I could help you,</q> it ran, <q>but I am afraid I +cannot, as the world is <hi rend="font-style: italic">so +censorious</hi>, is it not? So you +must accept a friend’s sympathy if it does not seem to +you too bold and forward of her!!! Perhaps we may +meet again, as I sometimes go to Clankwood. <hi +rend="font-style: italic">Au revoir.</hi>—Your sympathetic +well-wisher. <hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">A. à. F.</hi></q></p> + +<p>He folded it up and put it in his waistcoat-pocket, +then he exclaimed in an audible aside, his voice shaking +with the most affecting thrill, <q><hi +rend="font-style: italic">Perhaps</hi> we may meet +again! Only <hi rend="font-style: italic">perhaps!</hi> O +Alicia!</q> And then dropping +again into a stage whisper, he asked, <q>Are you still +there, Lady Alicia?</q></p> + +<p>A timorous voice replied, <q>Yes, Mr Fortescue. But I +really <hi rend="font-style: italic">must</hi> go now!</q></p> + +<p><q>Now? So soon?</q></p> + +<p><q>I have stayed too long already.</q></p> + +<p><q>’Tis better to have stayed too long than never to wear +stays at all,</q> replied Mr Beveridge.</p> + +<p>There was no response for a moment. Then a low +voice, a little hurt and a good deal puzzled, asked with +evident hesitation, <q>What—what did you say, Mr +Fortescue?</q></p> +<pb n="35"/><anchor id="Pg35"/> + +<p><q>I said that Lady Alicia’s stay cannot be too long,</q> +he answered, softly.</p> + +<p><q>But—but what good can I be?</q></p> + +<p><q>The good you cannot help being.</q></p> + +<p>There was another moment’s pause, then the voice +whispered, <q>I don’t quite understand you.</q></p> + +<p><q>My Alicia understands me not!</q> Mr Beveridge +soliloquised in another audible aside. Aloud, or rather +in a little lower tone, he answered, <q>I am friendless, +poor, and imprisoned. What is the good in your staying? +Ah, Lady Alicia! But why should I detain you? Go, +fair friend! Go and forget poor Francis Beveridge!</q></p> + +<p>There came a soft, surprised answer, <q>Francis Beveridge?</q></p> + +<p><q>Alas! you have guessed my secret. Yes, that is the +name of the unhappiest of mortals.</q></p> + +<p>As he spoke these melancholy words he threw away +the stump of his cigar, took another from his case, and +bit off the end.</p> + +<p>The voice replied, <q>I shall remember it—among my +friends.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge struck a match.</p> + +<p><q>H’sh! Whatever is that?</q> cried the voice in alarm.</p> + +<p><q>A heart breaking,</q> he replied, lighting his cigar.</p> + +<p><q>Don’t talk like that,</q> said the voice. <q>It—it +distresses me.</q> There was a break in the voice.</p> + +<p><q>And, alas! between distress and consolation there +are fifteen perpendicular feet of stone and mortar and +the relics of twelve hundred bottles of Bass,</q> he replied.</p> +<pb n="36"/><anchor id="Pg36"/> + +<p><q>Perhaps,</q>—the voice hesitated—<q>perhaps we may +see each other some day.</q></p> + +<p><q>Say to-morrow at four o’clock,</q> he suggested, pertinently. +<q>If you could manage to be passing up the +drive at that hour.</q></p> + +<p>There was another pause.</p> + +<p><q>Perhaps&qdash;</q> the voice began.</p> + +<p>At that moment he heard the sharp crack of a branch +behind him, and turning instantly he spied the uncompromising +countenance of Moggridge peering round a +tree about twenty paces distant. Lack of presence of +mind and quick decision were not amongst Mr Beveridge’s +failings. He struck a theatrical attitude at once, +and began in a loud voice, gazing up at the tops of the +trees, <q>He comes! A stranger comes! Yes, my fair +friend, we may meet again. <hi rend="font-style: italic">Au +revoir</hi>, but only for a +while! Ah, that a breaking heart should be lit for a +moment and then the lamp be put out!</q></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Moggridge was walking towards him.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, Moggridge!</q> he cried. <q>Good day.</q></p> + +<p><q>Time you was goin’ in, sir,</q> said Moggridge, stolidly; +and to himself he muttered, <q>He’s crackeder than I +thought, a-shoutin’ and a-ravin’ to hisself. Just as well +I kept a heye on ’im.</q></p> + +<p>Like most clever people, Mr Beveridge generally followed +the line of least resistance. He slipped his arm +through his attendant’s, shouted a farewell apparently +to some imaginary divinity overhead, and turned towards +the house.</p> + +<p><q>This is an unexpected pleasure,</q> he remarked.</p> +<pb n="37"/><anchor id="Pg37"/> + +<p><q>Yes, sir,</q> replied Moggridge.</p> + +<p><q>Funny thing your turning up. Out for a walk, I +suppose?</q></p> + +<p><q>For a stroll, sir—that’s to say&qdash;</q> he stopped.</p> + +<p><q>That on these chilly afternoons the dear good doctor +is afraid of my health?</q></p> + +<p><q>That’s kind o’ it, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>But of course I’m not supposed to notice anything, +eh?</q></p> + +<p>Moggridge looked a trifle uncomfortable and was discreetly +silent. Mr Beveridge smiled at his own perspicacity, +and then began in the most friendly tone, +<q>Well, I feel flattered that so stout a man has been told +off to take care of me. What an arm you’ve got, man.</q></p> + +<p><q>Pretty fair, sir,</q> said Moggridge, complacently.</p> + +<p><q>And I am thankful, too,</q> continued Mr Beveridge, +<q>that you’re a man of some sense. There are a lot of +fools in the world, Moggridge, and I’m somewhat of an +epicure in the matter of heads.</q></p> + +<p><q>Mine ’as been considered pretty sharp,</q> Moggridge +admitted, with a gratified relaxation of his wooden countenance.</p> + +<p><q>Have a cigar?</q> his patient asked, taking out his +case.</p> + +<p><q>Thank you, sir, I don’t mind if I do.</q></p> + +<p><q>You will find it a capital smoke. I don’t throw them +away on every one.</q></p> + +<p>Moggridge, completely thawed, lit his cigar and slackened +his pace, for such frank appreciation of his merits +was rare in a critical world.</p> +<pb n="38"/><anchor id="Pg38"/> + +<p><q>You can perhaps believe, Moggridge,</q> said Mr +Beveridge, reflectively, <q>that one doesn’t often have the +chance of talking confidentially to a man of sense in +Clankwood.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir, I should himagine not.</q></p> + +<p><q>And so one has sometimes to talk to oneself.</q></p> + +<p>This was said so sadly that Moggridge began to feel +uncomfortably affected.</p> + +<p><q>Ah, Moggridge, one cannot always keep silence, +even when one least wants to be overheard. Have you +ever been in love, Moggridge?</q></p> + +<p>The burly keeper changed countenance a little at this +embarrassingly direct question, and answered diffidently, +<q>Well, sir, to be sure men is men and woming will be +woming.</q></p> + +<p><q>The deuce, they will!</q> replied Mr Beveridge, cordially; +<q>and it’s rather hard to forget ’em, eh?</q></p> + +<p><q>Hindeed it is, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>I remembered this afternoon, but I should like you +as a good chap to forget. You won’t mention my moment +of weakness, Moggridge?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir,</q> said Moggridge, stoutly. <q>I suppose I +hought to report what I sees, but I won’t this time.</q></p> + +<p><q>Thank you,</q> said Mr Beveridge, pressing his arm. +<q>I had, you know, a touch of the sun in India, and I +sometimes talk when I shouldn’t. Though, after all, +that isn’t a very uncommon complaint.</q></p> + +<p>And so it happened that no rumour prejudicial either +to his sanity or to the progress of his friendship with the +Lady Alicia reached the ears of the authorities.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0105" type="chapter"> +<pb n="39"/><anchor id="Pg39"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER V.</hi> +</head> + +<p>Towards four o’clock on the following afternoon Mr +Beveridge and Moggridge were walking leisurely down +the long drive leading from the mansion of Clankwood +to the gate that opened on the humdrum outer world. +Finding that an inelastic matter of yards was all the +tether he could hope for, Mr Beveridge thought it best +to take the bull by the horns, and make a companion of +this necessity. So he kept his attendant by his side, +and regaled him for some time with a series of improbable +reminiscences and tolerable cigars, till at last, round a +bend of the avenue, a lady on horseback came into view. +As she drew a little nearer he stopped with an air of great +surprise and pleasure.</p> + +<p><q>I believe, Moggridge, that must be Lady Alicia à +Fyre!</q> he exclaimed.</p> + +<p><q>It looks huncommon like her, sir,</q> replied Moggridge.</p> + +<p><q>I must really speak to her. She was</q>—and Mr +Beveridge assumed his inimitable air of manly sentiment—<q>she +was one of my poor mother’s dearest friends. +Do you mind, Moggridge, falling behind a little? In +fact, if you could step behind a tree and wait here for +me, it would be pleasanter for us both. We used to +meet under happier circumstances, and, don’t you know, +it might distress her to be reminded of my misfortunes.</q></p> + +<p>Such a reasonable request, beseechingly put by so fine +a gentleman, could scarcely be refused. Moggridge retired +<pb n="40"/><anchor id="Pg40"/> +behind the trees that lined the avenue, and Mr +Beveridge advanced alone to meet the Lady Alicia. +She blushed very becomingly as he raised his hat.</p> + +<p><q>I hardly expected to see you to-day, Mr Beveridge,</q> +she began.</p> + +<p><q>I, on the other hand, have been thinking of nothing +else,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p>She blushed still deeper, but responded a little reprovingly, +<q>It’s very polite of you to say so, but&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Not a bit,</q> said he. <q>I have a dozen equally well-turned +sentences at my disposal, and, they tell me, a +most deluding way of saying them.</q></p> + +<p>Suddenly out of her depth again, poor Lady Alicia +could only strike out at random.</p> + +<p><q>Who tell you?</q> she managed to say.</p> + +<p><q>First, so far as my poor memory goes, my mother’s +lady’s-maid informed me of the fact; then I think my sister’s +governess,</q> he replied, ticking off his informants on his +fingers with a half-abstracted air. <q>After that came a +number of more or less reliable individuals, and lastly +the Lady Alicia à Fyre.</q></p> + +<p><q>Me? I’m sure I never said&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>None of them +ever <hi rend="font-style: italic">said</hi>,</q> he interrupted.</p> + +<p><q>But what have I done, then?</q> she asked, tightening +her reins, and making her horse fidget a foot or two farther +away.</p> + +<p><q>You have begun to be a most adorable friend to a +most unfortunate man.</q></p> + +<p>Still Lady Alicia looked at him a little dubiously, and +only said, <q>I—I hope I’m not too friendly.</q></p> +<pb n="41"/><anchor id="Pg41"/> + +<p><q>There are no degrees in friendly,</q> he replied. <q>There +are only aloofly, friendly, and more than friendly.</q></p> + +<p><q>I—I think I ought to be going on, Mr Beveridge.</q></p> + +<p>That experienced diplomatist perceived that it was +necessary to further embellish himself.</p> + +<p><q>Are you fond of soldiers?</q> he asked, abruptly.</p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon?</q> she said in considerable bewilderment.</p> + +<p><q>Does a red coat, a medal, and a brass band appeal to +you? Are you apt to be interested in her Majesty’s army?</q></p> + +<p><q>I generally like soldiers,</q> she admitted, still much +surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.</p> + +<p><q>Then I was a soldier.</q></p> + +<p><q>But—really?</q></p> + +<p><q>I held a commission in one of the crackest cavalry +regiments,</q> he began dramatically, and yet with a great +air of sincerity. <q>I was considered one of the most +promising officers in the mess. It nearly broke my heart +to leave the service.</q></p> + +<p>He turned away his head. Lady Alicia was visibly +affected.</p> + +<p><q>I am so sorry!</q> she murmured.</p> + +<p>Still keeping his face turned away, he held out his +hand and she pressed it gently.</p> + +<p><q>Sorrow cannot give me my freedom,</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>If there is anything I can do&qdash;</q> she began.</p> + +<p><q>Dismount,</q> he said, looking up at her tenderly.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia never quite knew how it happened, +but certainly she found herself standing on the ground, +and the next moment Mr Beveridge was in her place.</p> +<pb n="42"/><anchor id="Pg42"/> + +<p><q>An old soldier,</q> he exclaimed, gaily; <q>I can’t resist +the temptation of having a canter.</q> And with that he +started at a gallop towards the gate.</p> + +<p>With a blasphemous ejaculation Moggridge sprang +from behind his tree, and set off down the drive in hot +pursuit.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia screamed, <q>Stop! stop! Francis—I mean, +Mr Beveridge; stop, please!</q></p> + +<p>But the favorite of the crack regiment, despite the +lady’s saddle, sat his steed well, and rapidly left cries +and footsteps far behind. The lodge was nearly half a +mile away, and as the avenue wound between palisades +of old trees, the shouts became muffled, and when he +looked over his shoulder he saw in the stretch behind him +no sign of benefactress or pursuer. By continued exhortations +and the point of his penknife he kept his horse +at full stretch; round the next bend he knew he should +see the gates.</p> + +<p><q>Five to one on the blank things being shut,</q> he +muttered.</p> + +<p>He swept round the curve, and there ahead of him he +saw the gates grimly closed, and at the lodge door a dismounted +groom, standing beside his horse.</p> + +<p>Only remarking <q>Damn!</q> he reined up, turned, +and trotted quietly back again. Presently he met Moggridge, +red in the face, muddy as to his trousers, and +panting hard.</p> + +<p><q>Nice little nag this, Moggridge,</q> he remarked, airily.</p> + +<p><q>Nice sweat you’ve give me,</q> rejoined his attendant, +wrathfully.</p> +<pb n="43"/><anchor id="Pg43"/> + +<p><q>You don’t mean to say you ran after me?</q></p> + +<p><q>I does mean to say,</q> Moggridge replied grimly, +seizing the reins.</p> + +<p><q>Want to lead him? Very well—it makes us look +quite like the Derby winner coming in.</q></p> + +<p><q>Derby loser you means, thanks to them gates bein’ +shut.</q></p> + +<p><q>Gates shut? Were they? I didn’t happen to +notice.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, o’ course not,</q> said Moggridge, sarcastically; +<q>that there sunstroke you got in India prevented you, I +suppose?</q></p> + +<p><q>Have a cigar?</q></p> + +<p>To this overture Moggridge made no reply. Mr +Beveridge laughed and continued lightly, <q>I had no +idea you were so fond of exercise. I’d have given you +a lead all round the park if I’d known.</q></p> + +<p><q>You’d ’ave given me a lead all round the county if +them gates ’ad been open.</q></p> + +<p><q>It might have been difficult to stop this fiery animal,</q> +Mr Beveridge admitted. <q>But now, Moggridge, the run +is over. I think I can take Lady Alicia’s horse back to +her myself.</q></p> + +<p>Moggridge smiled grimly.</p> + +<p><q>You won’t let go?</q></p> + +<p><q>No fears.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge put his hand behind his back and silently +drove the penknife a quarter of an inch into his mount’s +hind quarters. In an instant his keeper felt himself +being lifted nearly off his feet, and in another actually +<pb n="44"/><anchor id="Pg44"/> +deposited on his face. Off went the accomplished horseman +again at top speed, but this time back to Lady Alicia. +He saw her standing by the side of the drive, her handkerchief +to her eyes, a penitent and disconsolate little +figure. When she heard him coming, she dried her eyes +and looked up, but her face was still tearful.</p> + +<p><q>Well, I am back from my ride,</q> he remarked in a +perfectly usual voice, dismounting as he spoke.</p> + +<p><q>The man!</q> she cried, <q>where is that dreadful man?</q></p> + +<p><q>What man?</q> he asked in some surprise.</p> + +<p><q>The man who chased you.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge laughed aloud, at which Lady Alicia +took fresh refuge in her handkerchief.</p> + +<p><q>He follows on foot,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p><q>Did he catch you? Oh, why didn’t you escape +altogether?</q> she sobbed.</p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge looked at her with growing interest.</p> + +<p><q>I had begun to forget my petticoat psychology,</q> he +reflected (aloud, after his unconventional fashion).</p> + +<p><q>Oh, here he comes,</q> she shuddered. <q>All blood! +Oh, what have you done to him?</q></p> + +<p><q>On my honour, nothing,—I merely haven’t washed +his face.</q></p> + +<p>By this time Moggridge was coming close upon them.</p> + +<p><q>You won’t forget a poor soldier?</q> said Mr Beveridge +in a lower voice.</p> + +<p>There was no reply.</p> + +<p><q>A <hi rend="font-style: italic">poor</hi> soldier,</q> he +added, with a sigh, glancing at +her from the corner of his eye. <q>So poor that even if +I had got out, I could only have ridden till I dropped.</q></p> +<pb n="45"/><anchor id="Pg45"/> + +<p><q>Would you accept&qdash;?</q> she began, timidly.</p> + +<p><q>What day?</q> he interrupted, hurriedly.</p> + +<p><q>Tuesday,</q> she hesitated.</p> + +<p><q>Four o’clock, again. Same place as before. When +I whistle throw it over at once.</q></p> + +<p>Before they had time to say more, Moggridge, blood- and +gravel-stained, came up.</p> + +<p><q>It’s all right, miss,</q> he said, coming between them; +<q>I’ll see that he plays no more of ’is tricks. +There’s nothin’ to be afrightened of.</q></p> + +<p><q>Stand back!</q> she cried; <q>don’t come near me!</q></p> + +<p>Moggridge was too staggered at this outburst to say +a word.</p> + +<p><q>Stand away!</q> she said, and the bewildered attendant +stood away. She turned to Mr Beveridge.</p> + +<p><q>Now, will you help me up?</q></p> + +<p>She mounted lightly, said a brief farewell, and, forgetting +all about the call at Clankwood she had ostensibly +come to pay, turned her horse’s head towards the lodge.</p> + +<p><q>Well, I’m blowed!</q> said Moggridge.</p> + +<p><q>They do blow one,</q> his patient assented.</p> + +<p>Naturally enough the story of this equestrian adventure +soon ran through Clankwood. The exact particulars, +however, were a little hard to collect, for while Moggridge +supplied many minute and picturesque details, +illustrating his own activity and presence of mind and +the imminent peril of the Lady Alicia, Mr Beveridge recounted +an equally vivid story of a runaway horse recovered +by himself to its fair owner’s unbounded gratitude. +Official opinion naturally accepted the official +<pb n="46"/><anchor id="Pg46"/> +account, and for the next few days Mr Beveridge became +an object of considerable anxiety and mistrust.</p> + +<p><q>I can’t make the man out,</q> said Sherlaw to Escott. +<q>I had begun to think there was nothing much the matter +with him.</q></p> + +<p><q>No more there is,</q> replied Escott. <q>His memory +seems to me to have suffered from something, and he +simply supplies its place in conversation from his imagination, +and in action from the inspiration of the moment. +The methods of society are too orthodox for such an +aberration, and as his friends doubtless pay a handsome +fee to keep him here, old Congers labels him mad and +locks the door on him.</q></p> + +<p>A day or two afterwards official opinion was a little +disturbed. Lady Alicia, in reply to anxious inquiries, +gave a third version of the adventure, from which nothing +in particular could be gathered except that nothing in +particular had happened.</p> + +<p><q>What do you make of this, Escott?</q> asked Dr Congleton, +laying her note before his assistant.</p> + +<p><q>Merely that a woman wrote it.</q></p> + +<p><q>Hum! I suppose that <hi rend="font-style: italic">is</hi> the +explanation.</q></p> + +<p>Upon which the doctor looked profound and went to +lunch.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0106" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VI.</hi> +</head> + +<p><q>Two five-pound notes, half-a-sovereign, and seven +and sixpence in silver,</q> said Mr Beveridge to himself. +<q>Ah, and a card.</q></p> +<pb n="47"/><anchor id="Pg47"/> + +<p>On the card was written, <q>From a friend, if you will +accept it. A.</q></p> + +<p>He was standing under the wall, in the secluded walk, +holding a little lady’s purse in his hand, and listening +to two different footsteps. One little pair of feet were +hurrying away on the farther side of the high wall, another +and larger were approaching him at a run.</p> + +<p><q>Wot’s he bin up to now, I wonder,</q> Moggridge +panted to himself—for the second pair of feet belonged +to him. <q>Shamming nose-bleed and sending me in +for an ’andkerchief, and then sneaking off here by +’isself!</q></p> + +<p><q>What a time you’ve been,</q> said Mr Beveridge, slipping +the purse with its contents into his pocket. <q>I was +so infernally cold I had to take a little walk. Got the +handkerchief?</q></p> + +<p>In silence and with a suspicious solemnity Moggridge +handed him the handkerchief, and they turned back for +the house.</p> + +<p><q>Now for a balloon,</q> Mr Beveridge reflected.</p> + +<p>Certainly it was cold. The frost nipped sharp that +night, and next morning there were ice gardens on the +windows, and the park lay white all through the winter +sunshine.</p> + +<p>By evening the private lake was reported to be bearing, +and the next day it hummed under the first skaters. +Hardly necessary to say Mr Beveridge was among the +earliest of them, or that he was at once the object of +general admiration and envy. He traced <q>vines</q> and +<q>Q’s,</q> and performed wonderful feats on one leg all +<pb n="48"/><anchor id="Pg48"/> +morning. At lunch he was in the best of spirits, and was +off again at once to the ice.</p> + +<p>When he reached the lake in the afternoon the first +person he spied was Lady Alicia, and five minutes afterwards +they were sailing off together hand in hand.</p> + +<p><q>I knew you would come to-day,</q> he remarked.</p> + +<p><q>How <hi rend="font-style: italic">could</hi> you have +known? It was by the merest chance I happened to come.</q></p> + +<p><q>It has always been by the merest chance that any +of them have ever come.</q></p> + +<p><q>Who have ever come?</q> she inquired, with a vague +feeling that he had said something he ought not to have, +and that she was doing the same.</p> + +<p><q>Many things,</q> he smiled, <q>including purses. Which +reminds me that I am eternally your debtor.</q></p> + +<p>She blushed and said, <q>I hope you didn’t mind.</q></p> + +<p><q>Not much,</q> he answered, candidly. <q>In my present +circumstances a five-pound note is more acceptable than +a caress.</q></p> + +<p>The Lady Alicia again remembered the maidenly +proprieties, and tried to change the subject.</p> + +<p><q>What beautiful ice!</q> she said.</p> + +<p><q>The question now is,</q> he continued, paying no heed +to this diversion, <q>what am I to do next?</q></p> + +<p><q>What do you mean?</q> she asked a little faintly, +realising dimly that she was being regarded as a fellow-conspirator +in some unlawful project.</p> + +<p><q>The wall is high, there is bottle-glass on the top, and +I shall find it hard to bring away a fresh pair of trousers, +and probably draughty if I don’t. The gates are always +<pb n="49"/><anchor id="Pg49"/> +kept closed, and it isn’t worth any one’s while to open +them for £10, 17s. 6d., less the price of a first-class ticket +up to town. What are we to do?</q></p> + +<p><q>We?</q> she gasped.</p> + +<p><q>You and I,</q> he explained.</p> + +<p><q>But—but I can’t <hi +rend="font-style: italic">possibly</hi> do anything.</q></p> + +<p><q><q>Can’t possibly</q> is a phrase I have learned +to misunderstand.</q></p> + +<p><q>Really, Mr Beveridge, I mustn’t do anything.</q></p> + +<p><q>Mustn’t is an invariable preface to a sin. Never +use it; it’s a temptation in itself.</q></p> + +<p><q>It wouldn’t be right,</q> she said, with quite a show of +firmness.</p> + +<p>He looked at her a little curiously. For a moment he +almost seemed puzzled. Then he pressed her hand and +asked tenderly, <q>Why not?</q></p> + +<p>And in a half-audible aside he added, <q>That’s the +correct move, I think.</q></p> + +<p><q>What did you say?</q> she asked.</p> + +<p><q>I said, <q>Why not?</q></q> he answered, with increasing +tenderness.</p> + +<p><q>But you said something else.</q></p> + +<p><q>I added a brief prayer for pity.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia sighed and repeated a little less firmly. +<q>It wouldn’t be right of me, Mr Beveridge.</q></p> + +<p><q>But what would be wrong?</q></p> + +<p>This was said with even more fervour.</p> + +<p><q>My conscience—we are very particular, you know.</q></p> + +<p><q>Who are <q>we</q>?</q></p> + +<p><q>Papa is <hi rend="font-style: italic">very</hi> strict +High Church.</q></p> +<pb n="50"/><anchor id="Pg50"/> + +<p>An idea seemed to strike Mr Beveridge, for he ruminated +in silence.</p> + +<p><q>I asked Mr Candles—our curate, you know,</q> Lady +Alicia continued, with a heroic effort to make her position +clear.</p> + +<p><q>You told him!</q> he exclaimed.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, I didn’t say who it was—I mean what it was I +thought of doing—I mean the temptation—that is, the +possibility. And he said it was very kind of me to think +of it; but I mustn’t do anything, and he advised me to +read a book he gave me, and—and I mustn’t think of +it, really, Mr Beveridge.</q></p> + +<p>To himself Mr Beveridge repeated under his breath, +<q>Archbishops, bishops, deacons, curates, fast in Lent, +and an anthem after the Creed. I think I remember +enough to pass.</q></p> + +<p>Then he assumed a very serious face, and said aloud, +<q>Your scruples do your heart credit. They have given +me an insight into your deep and sweet character, which +emboldens me to make a confession.</q></p> + +<p>He stopped skating, folded his arms, and continued +unblushingly, <q>I was educated for the Church, but +the prejudices of my parents, the immature scepticism +of youth, and some uncertainty about obtaining my +archbishopric, induced me in an unfortunate moment, +which I never ceased to bitterly regret, to quit my +orders.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are in orders?</q> she exclaimed.</p> + +<p><q>I was in several. I cancelled them, and entered the +Navy instead.</q></p> +<pb n="51"/><anchor id="Pg51"/> + +<p><q>The Navy?</q> she asked, excusably bewildered by +these rapid changes of occupation.</p> + +<p><q>For five years I was never ashore.</q></p> + +<p><q>But,</q> she hesitated—<q>but you said you were in the +Army.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Beveridge gave her a look full of benignant compassion +that made her, she did not quite know why, feel terribly +abashed.</p> + +<p><q>My regiment was quartered at sea,</q> he condescended +to explain. <q>But in time my conscience awoke. I +announced my intention of resuming my charge. My +uncle was furious. My enemies were many. I was +seized, thrown into this prison-house, and now my only +friend fails me.</q></p> + +<p>They were both silent. She ventured once to glance +up at his face, and it seemed to her that his eyes were +moist—though perhaps it was that her own were a little +dim.</p> + +<p><q>Let us skate on,</q> he said abruptly, with a fine air of +resignation.</p> + +<p><q>By the way,</q> he suddenly added, <q>I was extremely +High Church, in fact almost freezingly high.</q></p> + +<p>For five minutes they skated in silence, then Lady +Alicia began softly, <q>Supposing you—you went away&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>What is the use of talking of it?</q> he exclaimed, melodramatically. +<q>Let me forget my short-lived hopes!</q></p> + +<p><q>You <hi rend="font-style: italic">have</hi> a +friend,</q> she said, slowly.</p> + +<p><q>A friend who tantalises me by <q>supposings</q>!</q></p> + +<p><q>But supposing you did, Mr Beveridge, would you +go back to your—did you say you had a parish?</q></p> +<pb n="52"/><anchor id="Pg52"/> + +<p><q>I had: a large, populous, and happy parish. It is +my one dream to sit once more on its council and direct +my curate.</q></p> + +<p><q>Of course that makes a difference. Mr Candles +didn’t know all this.</q></p> + +<p>They had come by this time to the corner of a little +island that lay not far from the shore; in the channel +ahead a board labelled <q>Danger</q> marked a hidden +spring; behind them the shining ice was almost bare of +skaters, for all but Dr Escott seemed to be leaving; on +the bank they could see Moggridge prowling about in +the gathering dusk, a vigilant reminder of captivity. +Mr Beveridge took the whole scene in with, it is to be +feared, a militant rather than an episcopal eye. Then +he suddenly asked, <q>Are you alone?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes.</q></p> + +<p><q>You drive back?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ye<corr sic="-"><anchor id="E2"/><ref +target="e2">—</ref></corr>es.</q></p> + +<p>He took out his watch and made a brief calculation.</p> + +<p><q>Go now, call at Clankwood or do anything else you +like, and pass down the drive again at a quarter to five.</q></p> + +<p>This sudden pinning of her irresolution almost took +Lady Alicia’s breath away.</p> + +<p><q>But I never said&qdash;</q> she began.</p> + +<p><q>My dear friend,</q> he interrupted, <q>in the hour of +action only a fool ever says. Come on.</q></p> + +<p>And while she still hesitated they were off again.</p> + +<p><q>But&qdash;</q> she tried to expostulate.</p> + +<p><q>My dearest friend,</q> he whispered, <q>and my dear +old vicarage!</q></p> +<pb n="53"/><anchor id="Pg53"/> + +<p>He gave her no time to protest. Her skates were off, +she was on her way to her carriage, and he was striking +out again for the middle of the lake before she had time +to collect her wits.</p> + +<p>He took out his watch and looked at the time. It +was nearly a quarter-past four. Then he came up to +Escott, who by this time was the only other soul on the ice.</p> + +<p><q>About time we were going in,</q> said Escott.</p> + +<p><q>Give me half-an-hour more. I’ll show you how to +do that vine you admired.</q></p> + +<p><q>All right,</q> assented the doctor.</p> + +<p>A minute or two later Mr Beveridge, as if struck by +a sudden reflection, exclaimed, <q>By Jove, there’s that +poor devil Moggridge freezing to death on shore. Can’t +you manage to look after so dangerous a lunatic yourself? +It is his tea-time, too.</q></p> + +<p><q>Hallo, so he is,</q> replied Escott; <q>I’ll +send him up.</q></p> + +<p>And so there were only left the two men on the ice.</p> + +<p>For a little the lesson went on, and presently, leaving +the doctor to practise, Mr Beveridge skated away by +himself. He first paused opposite a seat on the bank +over which hung Dr Escott’s great fur coat. This +spectacle appeared to afford him peculiar pleasure. +Then he looked at his watch. It was half-past four. +He shut the watch with a click, threw a glance at his +pupil, and struck out for the island. If the doctor had +been looking, he might have seen him round it in the +gloaming.</p> + +<p>Dr Escott, leaning far on his outside edge, met him +as he returned.</p> +<pb n="54"/><anchor id="Pg54"/> + +<p><q>What’s that under your coat?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>A picture I intend to ask your opinion on presently,</q> +replied Mr Beveridge; and he added, with his most +charming air, <q>But now, before we go in, let me give +you a ride on one of these chairs, doctor.</q></p> + +<p>They started off, the pace growing faster and faster, +and presently Dr Escott saw that they were going behind +the island.</p> + +<p><q>Look out for the spring!</q> he cried.</p> + +<p><q>It must be bearing now,</q> replied Mr Beveridge, +striking out harder than ever; <q>they have taken away +the board.</q></p> + +<p><q>All right,</q> said the doctor, <q>on you go.</q></p> + +<p>As he spoke he felt a violent push, and the chair, slewing +round as it went, flew on its course unguided. Mr +Beveridge’s skates rasped on the ice with a spray of +white powder as he stopped himself suddenly. Ahead +of him there was a rending crack, and Dr Escott and his +chair disappeared. Mr Beveridge laughed cheerfully, +and taking from under his coat a board with the legend +<q>Danger</q> printed in large characters across its face, +he placed it beside the jagged hole.</p> + +<p><q>Here is the picture, doctor,</q> he said, as a dripping, +gasping head came up for the second time. <q>I must +ask a thousand pardons for this—shall I say, liberty? +But, as you know, I’m off my head. Good night. Let +me recommend a hot drink when you come out. There +are only five feet of water, so you won’t drown.</q> And +with that he skated rapidly away.</p> + +<p>Escott had a glimpse of him vanishing round the corner +<pb n="55"/><anchor id="Pg55"/> +of the island, and then the ice broke again, and down he +went. Four, five, six times he made a desperate effort +to get out, and every time the thin ice tore under his +hands, and he slipped back again. By the seventh +attempt he had broken his way to the thicker sheet; he +got one leg up, slipped, got it up again, and at last, half +numbed and wholly breathless, he was crawling circumspectly +away. When at last he ventured to rise to +his feet, he skated with all the speed he could make to +the seat where he had left his coat. A pair of skates +lay there instead, but the coat had vanished. Dr Escott’s +philosophical estimate of Mr Beveridge became considerably +modified.</p> + +<p><q>Thank the Lord, he can’t get out of the grounds,</q> +he said to himself; <q>what a dangerous devil he is! But +he’ll be sorry for this performance, or I’m mistaken.</q></p> + +<p>When he arrived at the house his first inquiries were +for his tutor in the art of vine-cutting, and he was rather +surprised to hear that he had not yet returned, for he +only imagined himself the victim of a peculiarly ill-timed +practical joke.</p> + +<p>Men with lanterns were sent out to search the park; +and still there was no sign of Mr Beveridge. Inquiries +were made at the lodge, but the gatekeeper could swear +that only a single carriage had passed through. Dr +Congleton refused at first to believe that he could possibly +have got out.</p> + +<p><q>Our arrangements are perfect,—the thing’s absurd,</q> +he said, peremptorily.</p> + +<p><q>That there man, sir,</q> replied Moggridge, who had +<pb n="56"/><anchor id="Pg56"/> +been summoned, <q>is the slipperiest customer as ever I +seed. ’E’s hout, sir, I believe.</q></p> + +<p><q>We might at least try the stations,</q> suggested Escott, +who had by this time changed, and indulged in the hot +drink recommended.</p> + +<p>The doctor began to be a little shaken.</p> + +<p><q>Well, well,</q> said he, <q>I’ll send a man to each of the +three stations within walking distance; and whether he’s +out or in, we’ll have him by to-morrow morning. I’ve +always taken care that he had no money in his pockets.</q></p> + +<p>But what is a doctor’s care against a woman’s heart? +For many to-morrows Clankwood had to lament the loss +of the gifted Francis Beveridge.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0107" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VII.</hi> +</head> + +<p>At sixteen minutes to five Mr Beveridge stood by the +side of the Clankwood Avenue, comfortably wrapped +in Dr Escort’s fur coat, and smoking with the greatest +relish one of Dr Escott’s undeniable cigars.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark, the air bit keen, the dim park +with its population of black trees was filled with a frosty, +eager stillness. All round the invisible wall hemmed +him in, the ten pounds, seventeen shillings, and sixpence +lay useless in his pocket till that was past, and his one +hope depended on a woman. But Mr Beveridge was an +amateur in the sex, and he smiled complacently as he +smoked.</p> + +<p>He had waited barely three minutes when the quick +<pb n="57"/><anchor id="Pg57"/> +clatter of a pair of horses fell on his ears, and presently +the lights of a carriage and pair, driving swiftly away +from Clankwood, raked the drive on either side. As +they rattled up to him he gave a shout to the coachman +to stop, and stepped right in front of the horses. With +something that sounded unlike a blessing, the pair were +thrown almost on their haunches to check them in time. +Never stopping to explain, he threw open the door and +sprang in; the coachman, hearing no sound of protest, +whipped up again, and Mr Beveridge found himself +rolling through the park of Clankwood in the Countess +of Grillyer’s carriage with a very timid little figure by +his side. Even in that moment of triumphant excitement +the excellence of his manners was remarkable: +the first thing he said was, <q>Do you mind smoking?</q></p> + +<p>In her confusion of mind Lady Alicia could only reply +<q>Oh no,</q> and not till some time afterwards did she remember +that the odour of a cigar was clinging and the +Countess’s nose unusually sensitive.</p> + +<p>After this first remark he leaned back in silence, gradually +filling the carriage with a blue-grey cloud, and looking +out of the windows first on one side and then on the +other. They passed quickly through the lines of trees +and the open spaces of frosty park-land, they drew up +at the lodge for a moment, he heard his prison gates +swing open, the harness jingled and the hoofs began to +clatter again, a swift vision of lighted windows and a +man looking on them incuriously swept by, and then they +were rolling over a country road between hedgerows and +under the free stars.</p> +<pb n="58"/><anchor id="Pg58"/> + +<p>It was the Lady Alicia who spoke first.</p> + +<p><q>I never thought you would really come,</q> she said.</p> + +<p><q>I have been waiting for that remark,</q> he replied, +with his most irresistible smile; <q>now for some more +practical conversation.</q></p> + +<p>As he did not immediately begin this conversation himself, +her curiosity overcame her, and she asked, <q>How +did you manage to get out?</q></p> + +<p><q>As my friend Dr Escott offered no opposition, I +walked away.</q></p> + +<p><q>Did he really let you?</q></p> + +<p><q>He never even expostulated.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then—then it’s all right?</q> she said, with +an inexplicable sensation of disappointment.</p> + +<p><q>Perfectly—so far.</q></p> + +<p><q>But—didn’t they object?</q></p> + +<p><q>Not yet,</q> he replied; <q>objections to my movements +are generally made after they have been performed.</q></p> + +<p>Somehow she felt immensely relieved at this hint of +opposition.</p> + +<p><q>I’m so glad you got away,</q> she whispered, and then +repented in a flutter.</p> + +<p><q>Not more so than I am,</q> he answered, pressing her +hand.</p> + +<p><q>And now,</q> he added, <q>I should like to know how +near Ashditch Junction you propose to take me.</q></p> + +<p><q>Where are you going to, Mr Beveridge?</q></p> + +<p>The <q>Mr Beveridge</q> was thrown in as a corrective +to the hand-pressure.</p> + +<p><q>To London; where else, my Alicia? With £10, +<pb n="59"/><anchor id="Pg59"/> +17s. 6d. in my pocket, I shall be able to eat at least three +good dinners, and, by the third of them, if I haven’t +fallen on my feet it will be the first time I have descended +so unluckily.</q></p> + +<p><q>But,</q> she asked, considerably disconcerted, <q>I +thought you were going back to your parish.</q></p> + +<p>For a moment he too seemed a trifle put about. Then +he replied readily, <q>So I am, as soon as I have purchased +the necessary outfit, restocked my ecclesiastical library, +and called on my bishop.</q></p> + +<p>She felt greatly relieved at this justification of her share +in the adventure.</p> + +<p><q>Drop me at the nearest point to the station,</q> he +said.</p> + +<p><q>I am afraid,</q> she began—<q>I mean I think you had +better get out soon. The first road on the right will +take you straight there, and we had better not pass it.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then I must bid you farewell,</q> and he sighed most +effectively. <q>Farewell, my benefactress, my dear Alicia! +Shall I ever see you, shall I ever hear of you again?</q></p> + +<p><q>I might—I might just write once; if you will answer +it: I mean if you would care to hear from such a&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>She found it difficult to finish, and prudently stopped.</p> + +<p><q>Thanks,</q> he replied cheerfully; <q>do,—I shall live in +hopes. I’d better stop the carriage now.</q></p> + +<p>He let down the window, when she said hastily, <q>But +I don’t know your address.</q></p> + +<p>He reflected for an instant. <q>Care of the Archbishop +of York will always find me,</q> he replied; and as if unwilling +to let his emotion be observed, he immediately +<pb n="60"/><anchor id="Pg60"/> +put his head out of the window and called on the coachman +to stop.</p> + +<p><q>Good-bye,</q> he whispered, tenderly, squeezing her +fingers with one hand and opening the door with the +other.</p> + +<p><q>Don’t quite forget me,</q> she whispered back.</p> + +<p><q>Never!</q> he replied, and was in the act of getting +out when he suddenly turned, and exclaimed, <q>I must +be more out of practice than I thought; I had almost +forgotten the protested salute.</q></p> + +<p>And without further preamble the Lady Alicia found +herself kissed at last.</p> + +<p>He jumped out and shut the door, and the carriage +with its faint halo clattered into the darkness.</p> + +<p><q>They are wonderfully alike,</q> he reflected.</p> + +<p>About twenty minutes later he walked leisurely into +Ashditch Junction, and having singled out the station-master, +he accosted him with an air of beneficient consideration +and inquired how soon he could catch a train +for London.</p> + +<p>It appeared that the up express was not due for nearly +three-quarters of an hour.</p> + +<p><q>A little too long to wait,</q> he said to himself, as he +turned up the collar of his purloined fur coat to keep +out the cold, and picked another cigar from its rightful +owner’s case.</p> + +<p>By way of further defying the temperature and cementing +his acquaintance with the station-master, he offered +to regale that gratified official with such refreshments as +the station bar provided. In the consumption of whiskies-and-sodas +<pb n="61"/><anchor id="Pg61"/> +(a beverage difficult to obtain in any +quantity at Clankwood) Mr Beveridge showed himself +as accomplished as in every other feat. In thirty-five +minutes he had despatched no fewer than six, besides +completely winning the station-master’s heart. As he +had little more than five minutes now to wait, he bade a +genial farewell to the lady behind the bar, and started +to purchase his ticket.</p> + +<p>Hardly had he left the door of the refreshment-room +when he perceived an uncomfortably familiar figure just +arrived, breathless with running, on the opposite platform. +The light of a lamp fell on his shining face: it +was Moggridge!</p> + +<p>A stout heart might be forgiven for sinking at the sight, +but Mr Beveridge merely turned to his now firm friends +and said with his easiest air, <q>On the opposite platform I +perceive one of my runaway lunatics. Bring a couple +of stout porters as quickly as you can, for he is a person +of much strength and address. My name,</q> he drew a +card-case from the pocket of his fur coat, <q>is, as you see, +Dr Escott of Clankwood.</q></p> + +<p>Meanwhile Moggridge, after hurriedly investigating +the platform he was on, suddenly spied a tall fur-coated +figure on the opposite side. Without a moment’s hesitation +he sprang on to the rails, and had just mounted the +other side as the station-master and two porters appeared.</p> + +<p>Seeing his allies by his side Mr Beveridge never said a +word, but, throwing off his hat, he lowered his head, +charged his keeper, and picking him up by the knees +<pb n="62"/><anchor id="Pg62"/> +threw him heavily on his back. Before he had a chance +of recovering himself the other three were seated on his +chest employed in winding a coil of rope round and round +his prostrate form.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later Moggridge was sitting bound hand +and foot in the booking office, addressing an amused audience +in a strain of perhaps excusable exasperation, +which however merely served to impress the Ashditch +officials with a growing sense of their address in capturing +so dangerous a lunatic. In the middle of this entertaining +scene the London express steamed in, and Mr +Beveridge, courteously thanking the station-master for +his assistance, stepped into a first-class carriage.</p> + +<p><q>I should be much obliged,</q> he said, leaning on the +door of his compartment and blowing the smoke of Dr +Escott’s last Havannah lightly from his lips, <q>if you +would be kind enough to keep that poor fellow in the +station till to-morrow. It is rather too late to send him +back now. Good night, and many thanks.</q></p> + +<p>He pressed a coin into the station-master’s hand, +which that +<corr sic="disapponted"><anchor id="E3"/><ref +target="e3">disappointed</ref></corr> +official only discovered on emptying +his pockets at night to be an ordinary sixpence, the +guard whistled, and one by one, smoothly and slowly +and then in a bright stream, the station lamps slipped +by. The last of them flitted into the night, and the +train swung and rattled by a mile a minute nearer to +London town and farther from the high stone wall. +There was no other stop, and for a long hour the adventurer +sat with his legs luxuriously stretched along the +cushions looking out into a fainter duplicate of his carriage, +<pb n="63"/><anchor id="Pg63"/> +pierced now and then by the glitter of brighter +points as they whisked by some wayside village, or crossed +by the black shadows of trees. The whole time he +smiled contentedly, doubtless at the prospect of his parish +work. All at once he seemed stirred, and, turning in +his seat, laid his face upon the window, and pulled down +the blind behind his head, so that he could see into the +night. He had spied the first bright filaments of London. +Quickly they spread into a twinkling network, and then +as quickly were shut out by the first line of suburb houses; +through the gaps they grew nearer and flared cheerfully; +the train hooted over an archway, and in the road below +he had a glimpse of shop windows and crowded pavements +and moving omnibuses: he was in the world again, +and at the foretaste of all this life he laughed like a delighted +child. Last of all came the spread of shining +rails and the red and yellow lights of many signals, and +then the high glass roof and long lamp-lit platforms of +St Euston’s Cross.</p> + +<p>Unencumbered by luggage or plans, Mr Francis Beveridge +stuck his hands deep in his pockets and strolled +aimlessly enough out of the station into the tideway of +the Euston Road. For a little he stood stock-still on the +pavement watching the throng of people and the perpetual +buses and drays and the jingling hansoms picking +their way through it all.</p> + +<p><q>For a man of brains,</q> he moralised, <q>even though +he be certified as insane, for probably the best of reasons, +this London has surely fools enough to provide him with +all he needs and more than he deserves. I shall set out +<pb n="64"/><anchor id="Pg64"/> +with my lantern like a second Diogenes to look for a +foolish man.</q></p> + +<p>And so he strolled along again to the first opening +southwards. That led him through a region of dingy +enough brick by day, but decked now with its string of +lamps and bright shop-windows here and there, and kept +alive by passing buses and cabs going and coming from +the station. Farther on the street grew gloomier, and a +dark square with a grove of trees in the middle opened +off one side; but, rattle or quiet, flaring shops or sad-looking +lodgings, he found it all too fresh and amusing +to hurry.</p> + +<p><q>Back to my parish again,</q> he said to himself, smiling +broadly at the drollery of the idea. <q>If I’m caught +to-morrow, I’ll at least have one merry night in my +wicked, humorous old charge.</q></p> + +<p>He reached Holborn and turned west in the happiest +and most enviable of moods; the very policemen seemed +to cast a friendly eye on him; the frosty air, he thought, +made the lights burn brighter and the crowd move more +briskly than ever he had seen them. Suddenly the sight +of a hairdresser’s saloon brought an inspiration. He +stroked his beard, twisted his moustaches half regretfully, +and then exclaiming, <q>Exit Mr Beveridge,</q> turned +into the shop.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div rend="page-break-before: always" id="LL0200" type="part"> +<pb n="65"/><anchor id="Pg65"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">PART II.</hi> +</head> + +<div id="LL0201" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER I.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron Rudolf von Blitzenberg sat by himself +at a table in the dining-room of the Hôtel +Mayonaise, which, as everybody knows, is the +largest and most expensive in London. He +was a young man of a florid and burly Teutonic type +and the most ingenuous countenance. Being possessed +of a curious and enterprising disposition, as well as +the most ample means, he had left his ancestral castle in +Bavaria to study for a few months the customs and +politics of England. In the language he was already +proficient, and he had promised himself an amusing as +well as an instructive visit. But, although he had only +arrived in London that morning, he was already beginning +to feel an uncomfortable apprehension lest in both respects +he should be disappointed. Though his introductions +were the best with which the British Ambassador +could supply him, they were only three or four in +number,—for, not wishing to be hampered with too many +acquaintances, he had rather chosen quality than quantity: +and now, in the course of the afternoon, he had +found to his chagrin that in every case the families were +out of town. In fact, so far as he could learn, they were +<pb n="66"/><anchor id="Pg66"/> +not even at their own country seats. One was abroad, +another gone to the seaside to recover from the mumps, +or a third paying a round of visits.</p> + +<p>The disappointment was sharp, he felt utterly at sea +as to what he should do, and he was already beginning to +experience the loneliness of a single mortal in a crowded +hotel.</p> + +<p>As the frosty evening was setting in and the shops were +being lit, he had strolled out into the streets in the vague +hope of meeting some strange foreign adventure, or perhaps +even happily lighting upon some half-forgotten +diplomatic acquaintance. But he found the pavements +crowded with a throng who took no notice of him at all, +but seemed every man and most women of them to be +pushing steadily, and generally silently, towards a million +mysterious goals. Not that he could tell they were silent +except by their set lips, for the noise of wheels and horses +on so many hundreds of miles of streets, and the cries of +busmen and vendors of evening papers, made such a +hubbub that he felt before long in a maze. He lost his +way four times, and was patronisingly set right by beneficent +policemen; and at last, feeling like a man who has +fallen off a precipice on to a soft place—none the worse +but quite bewildered—he struggled back to his hotel. +There he spun out his time by watching the people come +and go, and at last dressed with extra deliberation.</p> + +<p>About eight o’clock he sat down to his solitary dinner. +The great gilt and panelled room was full of diners and +bustling waiters, but there was not a face the Baron had +ever seen before. He was just finishing a plate of whitebait +<pb n="67"/><anchor id="Pg67"/> +when he observed a stranger enter the room and +stroll in a very self-possessed manner down the middle, +glancing at the tables round him as though he was looking +either for a friend or a desirable seat. This gentleman +was tall, fair, and clean-shaved; he was dressed in a suit +of well-fitting tweeds, and his air impressed the Baron +as being natural and yet distinguished. At last his eye +fell upon the Baron, who felt conscious of undergoing a +quick, critical scrutiny. The table at which that nobleman +sat was laid for two, and coming apparently to a +sudden resolution, the good-looking stranger seated himself +in the vacant chair. In an agreeable voice and with +an unmistakably well-bred air he asked a waiter for the +wine-list, and then, like a man with an excellent appetite, +fell to upon the various <hi rend="font-style: italic">hors +d’œuvres</hi>, the entire collection +of which, in fact, he consumed in a wonderfully +short space of time. The Baron, being himself no trifler +with his victuals, regarded this feat with sympathetic +approval, and began to feel a little less alone in the world. +His naturally open disposition was warmed besides, +owing to a slight misconception he had fallen into, perfectly +excusable however in a foreigner. He thought he +had read somewhere that port was the usual accompaniment +to the first courses of an English dinner, and as +his waiter had been somewhat dilatory in bringing him +the more substantial items of the repast, he had already +drunk three claret-glasses of this cheering wine. The +chill recollections of his sixteen quarterings and the +exclusiveness he had determined to maintain as becoming +to his rank were already melting, and he met the stranger’s +<pb n="68"/><anchor id="Pg68"/> +eye with what for the life of him he could not help being a +cordial look.</p> + +<p>His <hi rend="font-style: italic">vis-à-vis</hi> caught +the glance, smiled back, and immediately +asked, with the most charming politeness, +<q>Do you care, sir, to split a bottle of champagne?</q></p> + +<p><q>To—er—<hi +rend="font-style: italic">shplid?</hi></q> said the Baron, +with a disappointed consciousness of having been put at a loss +in his English by the very first man who had spoken to him.</p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon,—I am afraid I was unintelligibly +idiomatic. To divide, I should say, you consuming +one-half, I the other. Am I clear, sir?</q></p> + +<p>For a moment the Baron was a little taken aback, and +then recollecting that the dining habits of the English +were still new to him, he concluded that the suggestion +was probably a customary act of courtesy. He had +already come to the conclusion that the gentleman must +be a person of rank, and he replied affably, <q>Yah—zat +is, vid pleasure. Zanks, very.</q></p> + +<p><q>The pleasure is mine,</q> said the stranger—<q>and half +the bottle,</q> he added, smiling.</p> + +<p>The Baron, whose perception of humour had been +abnormally increased by this time, laughed hilariously +at the infection of his new acquaintance’s smile.</p> + +<p><q>Goot, goot!</q> he cried. <q>Ach, yah, zo.</q></p> + +<p><q>Am I right, sir, in supposing that, despite the perfection +of your English accent, I cannot be fortunate +enough to claim you as a countryman?</q> asked the +stranger.</p> + +<p>The Baron’s resolutions of reticence had vanished +altogether before such unexpected and (he could not +<pb n="69"/><anchor id="Pg69"/> +but think) un-English friendliness. He unburdened his +heart with a rush.</p> + +<p><q>You have ze right. I am Deutsch. I have gom to +England zis day for to lairn and to amuse myself. But +mein, vat you call?—introdogtions zey are not inside, +zat is zey are from off. Not von, all, every single gone +to ze gontry or to abroad. I am alone, I eat my dinner +in zolitude, I am pleased to meet you, sare.</q></p> + +<p>A cork popped and the champagne frothed into the +stranger’s glass. Raising it to his lips, he +said, <q>Prosit!</q></p> + +<p><q>Prosit!</q> responded the Baron, enthusiastically. <q>You +know ze Deutsch, sare?</q></p> + +<p><q>I am safer in English, I confess.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, das ist goot, I vant for to practeese. Ve vill +talk English.</q></p> + +<p><q>With all my heart,</q> said the stranger. <q>I, too, am +alone, and I hold myself more than fortunate in making +your acquaintance. It’s a devilish dull world when one +can’t share a bottle—or a brace of them, for the matter +of that.</q></p> + +<p><q>You know London?</q> asked the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>I used to, and I daresay my memory will revive.</q></p> + +<p><q>I know it not, pairhaps you can inform. I haf gom, +as I say, to-day.</q></p> + +<p><q>With pleasure,</q> said the stranger, readily. <q>In fact, +if you are ever disengaged I may possibly be able to act as +showman.</q></p> + +<p><q>Showman!</q> roared the Baron, thinking he had discovered +a jest. <q>Ha, ha, ha! Goot, zehr goot!</q></p> + +<p>The other looked a trifle astonished for an instant, +<pb n="70"/><anchor id="Pg70"/> +and then as he sipped his champagne an expression of +intense satisfaction came over his face.</p> + +<p><q>I can put away my lantern,</q> he said to himself,—<q>I +have found him.</q></p> + +<p><q>May I have the boldness to ask your name, sir?</q> he +asked aloud.</p> + +<p><q>Ze Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg,</q> that nobleman +replied. <q>Yours, sare—may I dare?</q></p> + +<p><q>Francis Bunker, at your service, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are noble?</q> queried the Baron a little anxiously, +for his prejudices on this point were strong.</p> + +<p><q>According to your standard I believe I may say so. +That’s to say, my family have borne arms for two hundred +odd generations; twenty-five per cent of them have died +of good living; and the most malicious have never accused +us of brains. I myself may not be very typical, +but I assure you it isn’t my ancestors’ fault.</q></p> + +<p>The latter part of this explanation entirely puzzled +the Baron. The first statement, though eminently satisfactory, +was also a little bewildering.</p> + +<p><q>Two hondred generations?</q> he asked, courteously. +<q>Zat is a vary old family. All bore arms you say, Mistair +Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>All,</q> replied Mr Bunker, gravely. <q>The first few +bore tails as well.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> laughed the Baron. <q>You are a fonny +man I pairceive, vat you call clown, yes?</q></p> + +<p><q>What my friends call clown, and I call wit,</q> Mr +Bunker corrected.</p> + +<p><q>Vit! Ha, ha, ha!</q> roared the Baron, whose mind +<pb n="71"/><anchor id="Pg71"/> +was now in an El Dorado of humour when jokes grew +like daisies. His loneliness had disappeared as if by +magic; as course succeeded course his contentment showed +itself in a perpetually beaming smile: he ceased to worry +even about his friend’s pedigree, convinced in his mind +that manners so delightful and distinguished could only +result from repeated quarterings and unoccupied forefathers. +Yet by the time dessert arrived and he had +again returned to his port, he began to feel an extreme +curiosity to know more concerning Mr Bunker. He +himself had volunteered a large quantity of miscellaneous +information: about Bavaria, its customs and its people, +more especially the habits and history of the Blitzenberg +family; about himself, his parentage and education; all +about his family ghost, his official position as hereditary +carpet-beater to the Bavarian Court, and many other +things equally entertaining and instructive. Mr Bunker, +for his part, had so far confined his confidences to his +name.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Bonker,</q> said the Baron at last—he had +become quite familiar by this time—<q>vat make you in +London? I fear you are bird of passage. Do you stay +long?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker cracked a nut, looking very serious; then +he leant on one elbow, glanced up at the ceiling pensively, +and sighed.</p> + +<p><q>I hope I do not ask vat I should not,</q> the Baron +interposed, courteously.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, ask what you like,</q> replied Mr +Bunker. <q>In a city full of strangers, or of friends who +<pb n="72"/><anchor id="Pg72"/> +have forgotten me, you alone have my confidence. My +story is a common one of youthful folly and present +repentance, but such as it is, you are welcome to it.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron gulped down half a glass of port and leaned +forward sympathetically.</p> + +<p><q>My father,</q> Mr Bunker continued with an air of +half-sad reminiscence, <q>is one of the largest landowners +and the head of one of the most ancient families in the +north of England. I was his eldest son and heir. I am +still, I have every reason to believe, his eldest son, but +my heirship, I regret to say, is more doubtful. I spent +a prodigal youth and a larger sum of money than my +poor father approved of. He was a strict though a kind +parent, and for the good of my health and the replenishment +of the family coffers, which had been sadly drained +by my extravagance, he sent me abroad. There I have +led a roving life for the last six years, and at last, my wild +oats sown, reaped, and gathered in (and a well-filled stackyard +they made, I can assure you), I decided to return to +England and become an ornament to respectable society. +Like you, I arrived in London to-day, but only to find +to my disgust that my family have gone to winter in +Egypt. So you see that at present I am like a shipwrecked +sailor clinging to a rock and waiting, with what +patience I can muster, for a boat to take me off.</q></p> + +<p><q>You mean,</q> inquired the Baron, anxiously, <q>that +you vish to go to Egypt at vonce?</q></p> + +<p><q>I had thought of it; though there is a difficulty in the +way, I admit.</q></p> + +<p><q>You vill not stay zen here?</q> +<pb n="73"/><anchor id="Pg73"/> +<q>My dear Baron, why should I? I have neither +friends nor&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>He stopped abruptly.</p> + +<p><q>I do not like to zink I shall lose your company so +soon.</q></p> + +<p><q>I admit,</q> allowed Mr Bunker, <q>that this fortunate +meeting tempts me to stay.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vy not?</q> said the Baron, cordially. <q>Can your +fader not vait to see you?</q></p> + +<p><q>I hardly think he will worry about me, I confess.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zen stay, my goot Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>Unfortunately there is the same difficulty as stands +in the way of my going to Egypt.</q></p> + +<p><q>And may I inquire vat zat is?</q></p> + +<p><q>To tell you the truth,</q> replied Mr Bunker, with an +air of reluctant candour, <q>my funds are rather low. I +had trusted to finding my father at home, but as he +isn’t, why&qdash;</q> he shrugged his shoulders and threw +himself back in his chair.</p> + +<p>The Baron seemed struck with an idea which he hesitated +to express.</p> + +<p><q>Shall we smoke?</q> his friend suggested.</p> + +<p><q>Vaiter!</q> cried the Baron, <q>bring here two best cigars +and two coffee!</q></p> + +<p><q>A liqueur, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, yah. Vat for you?</q></p> + +<p><q>A liqueur brandy suggests itself.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vaiter! and two brandy.</q></p> + +<p><q>And now,</q> said the Baron, <q>I haf an idea, Bonker.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0202" type="chapter"> +<pb n="74"/><anchor id="Pg74"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER II.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg, as I have said, +had a warm heart. He was, besides, alone in one hundred +and twenty square miles of strangers and foreigners +when he had happened upon this congenial spirit. He +began in a tone of the most ingenuous friendliness—</p> + +<p><q>I haf no friends here. My introdogtions zey are +gone. Bot I haf moch money, and I vish a, vat you +say?—showman, ha, ha, ha! You haf too leetle money +and no friends and you can show. You show and I +will loan you vat you vish. May I dare to suggest?</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>My goot Bonker! I am in airnest, I assure. Vy not? +It is vun gentleman and anozzer.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are far too kind.</q></p> + +<p><q>It is to myself I am kind, zen. I vant a guide, a +frient. It is a loan. Do not scruple. Ven your fader +goms you can pay if you please. It is nozing to me.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, my dear Baron,</q> said Mr Bunker, like a man +persuaded against his will, <q>what can I say? I confess +I might find a little difficulty in replenishing my purse +without resorting to disagreeable means, and if you really +wish my society, why&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Zen it is a bairgain?</q> cried the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>If you insist&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>I insist. Vaiter! Alzo two ozzer liqueur. Ve most +drink to ze bairgain, Bonker.</q></p> + +<p>They pledged each other cordially, and talked from +<pb n="75"/><anchor id="Pg75"/> +that moment like old friends. The Baron was thoroughly +pleased with himself, and Mr Bunker seemed +no less gratified at his own good fortune. Half an hour +went quickly by, and then the Baron exclaimed, <q>Let us +do zomzing to-night, Bonker. I burn for to begin zis +show of London.</q></p> + +<p><q>What would you care to do, Baron? It is rather +late, I am afraid, to think of a theatre. What do you say +to a music-hall?</q></p> + +<p><q>Music-hall? I haf seen zem at home. Damned +amusing, das ist ze expression, yes?</q></p> + +<p><q>It is a perfect description.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot,</q> continued the Baron, solemnly, <q>I must not +begin vid ze vickedest.</q></p> + +<p><q>And yet,</q> replied his friend, persuasively, <q>even +wickedness needs a beginning.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot, if I begin I may not stop. Zomzing more qviet +ze first night. Haf you a club?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker pondered for a moment, and a curious +smile stole across his face. Then it vanished, and he +answered readily, <q>Certainly, Baron, an excellent idea. +I haven’t been to my club for so long that it never struck +me. Let us come.</q></p> + +<p><q>Goot!</q> cried the Baron, rising with alacrity.</p> + +<p>They put on their coats (Mr Bunker’s, it may be remarked, +being a handsome fur-lined garment), the porter +hailed a cab, and the driver was ordered to take them +to the Regent’s Club in Pall Mall. The Baron knew it +by reputation as the most exclusive in London, and his +opinion of his friend rose still higher.</p> +<pb n="76"/><anchor id="Pg76"/> + +<p>They joined a jingling string of other hansoms and +sped swiftly through the exhilarating bustle of the streets. +To the Baron it seemed as if a great change had come +over the city since he wandered disconsolately before +dinner. Carried swiftly to the music of the little bells +through the sharp air and the London night that is brighter +than day, with a friend by his side and a good dinner +within, he marked the most astonishing difference. All +the people seemed to talk and laugh, and for his own +part he found it hard to keep his tongue still.</p> + +<p><q>I know ze name of ze Regent’s,</q> he said; <q>vun club +of ze best, is it not?</q></p> + +<p><q>The very best club, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zey are all noble?</q></p> + +<p><q>In many cases the receipts for their escutcheons are +still in their pockets.</q></p> + +<p>Though the precise significance of this explanation +was not quite clear to the Baron, it sounded eminently +satisfactory.</p> + +<p><q>Zo?</q> he said. <q>I shall be moch interested to see +zem.</q></p> + +<p>As they entered the club the porter stared at them +curiously, and even made a movement as though he +would step out and address them; but Mr Bunker, wishing +him a courteous good evening, walked briskly up to +the hat-and-cloak racks in the hall. A young man had +just hung up his hat, and as he was divesting himself of +his coat, Mr Bunker quickly took the hat down, glanced +at the name inside, and replaced it on its peg. Then he +held out his hand and addressed the young man cordially.</p> +<pb n="77"/><anchor id="Pg77"/> + +<p><q>Good evening, Transome, how are you?</q> said he, +and, heedless of the look of surprise on the other’s face, +he turned towards the Baron and added, <q>Let me introduce +the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg—Mr Transome. +The Baron has just come to England, and I +thought he couldn’t begin better than by a visit to the +Regent’s. Let us come into the smoking-room.</q></p> + +<p>In a few minutes they were all on the best of terms. +A certain perplexity, and almost shyness, that the young +man showed at first, vanished rapidly before the Baron’s +cordiality and Mr Bunker’s well-bred charm of manner.</p> + +<p>They were deeply engrossed in a discussion on the +reigning sovereign of the Baron’s native land, a monarch +of whose enlightened policy that nobleman spoke with +pardonable pride, when two elderly gentlemen entered +the room.</p> + +<p><q>Who are these?</q> Mr Bunker whispered to Transome. +<q>I know them very well, but I am always bad at names.</q></p> + +<p><q>Lord Fabrigas and General M’Dermott,</q> replied +Transome.</p> + +<p>Instantly Mr Bunker rose and greeted the new-comers.</p> + +<p><q>Good evening, Lord Fabrigas; good evening, General. +You have just come in time to be introduced to the Baron +Rudolph von Blitzenberg, whom you doubtless know +by reputation.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron rose and bowed, and it struck him that +elderly English gentlemen were singularly stiff and constrained +in their manner. Mr Bunker, however, continued +cheerfully, <q>We are just going to have a smoking +concert. Will you begin, Baron?</q></p> +<pb n="78"/><anchor id="Pg78"/> + +<p><q>I know not English songs,</q> replied the Baron, <q>bot +I should like moch to hear.</q></p> + +<p><q>You must join in the chorus, then.</q></p> + +<p><q>Certainly, Bonker. I haf a voice zat is considered—vat +you call—deafening, yes?—in ze chorus.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker cleared his throat, and, just as the General +was on the point of interposing a remark, struck up +hastily; and for the first time in its long and honourable +history the smoking-room of the Regent’s Club reechoed +to a popular music-hall ditty.</p> + +<lg type="ditty" rend="display"> + <l><q rend="post: none">They sometimes call ’em duckies, + they sometimes call ’em pets,</q></l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2">And sometimes they refer to + ’em as dears</l> + <l>They live on little matters that a gentleman forgets,</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2">In a little world of giggles and + of tears;</l> + <l>There are different varieties from which a man may choose,</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2">There are sorts and shapes and + sizes without end,</l> + <l>But the kind I’d pick myself is the kind you introduce</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2"><q rend="pre: none">By the simple + title of <q>my lady friend.</q></q></l> +</lg> + +<p><q>Chorus, Baron!</q> And then he trolled in waltz time +this edifying refrain—</p> + +<lg type="ditty" rend="display"> + <l><q rend="post: none">My lady friend, my lady friend!</q></l> + <l rend="margin-left: 6">Can’t you twig, dear boys,</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 4">From the sound of the kisses</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2">She isn’t my misses,</l> + <l><q rend="pre: none">She’s only my lady friend!</q></l> +</lg> + +<p>In a voice like a train going over a bridge the Baron +chimed in—</p> + +<lg type="ditty" rend="display"> + <l><q rend="post: none">My laty vrient, my laty vrient!</q></l> + <l rend="margin-left: 6">Cannot you tvig, mine boy,</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 4">Vrom ze sound of ze kiss,</l> + <l rend="margin-left: 2">He is not my miss,</l> + <l><q rend="pre: none">He is only mine laty vrient!</q></l> +</lg> +<pb n="79"/><anchor id="Pg79"/> + +<p><q>I am afraid,</q> said Mr Bunker, as they finished the +chorus, <q>that I can’t remember any more. Now, General, +it’s your turn.</q></p> + +<p><q>Sir,</q> replied that gallant officer, who had listened +to this ditty in purple and petrified astonishment, <q>I +don’t know who the devil you are, but I can tell you, you +won’t remain a member of this club much longer if you +come into it again in this state.</q></p> + +<p><q>I had forgotten,</q> said Mr Bunker, with even more +than his usual politeness, <q>that such an admirable music-hall +critic was listening to me. I must apologise for my +poor effort.</q></p> + +<p>Wishing him courteously good-night, he took the Baron +by the arm and walked out. While that somewhat perplexed +nobleman was struggling into his coat, his friend +rapidly and dexterously converted all the silk hats he +could see into the condition of collapsed opera hats, +and then picked a small hand-bag off the floor. The +Baron walked out through the door first, but Mr Bunker +stopped for an instant opposite the hall-porter’s box, +and crying, <q>Good night to you, sir!</q> hurled the bag +through the glass, rushed after his friend, and in less +time than it takes to tell they were tearing up Pall Mall +in a hansom.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes both were silent; then the Baron +said slowly, <q>I do not qvite onderstand.</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron,</q> his friend explained gaily, <q>these +practical jokes are very common in our clubs. They +are quite part of our national life, you know, and I +thought you ought to see everything.</q></p> +<pb n="80"/><anchor id="Pg80"/> + +<p>The Baron said nothing, but he began to realise that +he was indeed in a foreign country.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0203" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER III.</hi> +</head> + +<p><q>Vell, Bonker, vat show to-day?</q> said the Baron.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker sipped his coffee and smiled back at his +friend.</p> + +<p><q>What would you like?</q> said he.</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the Baron’s private room finishing +one of the renowned Hôtel Mayonaise breakfasts. Out +of the windows they could see the bright curving river, +the bare tops of the Embankment trees, a file of barges +drifting with the tide, and cold-looking clouds hurrying +over the chaos of brick on the opposite shore. It was a +bright breezy morning, and the Baron felt in high good-humour +with his surroundings. On maturer consideration, +the entertaining experience of the night before had +greatly raised Mr Bunker in his estimation. He had +chuckled his way through a substantial breakfast, and in +such good company felt ready for any adventure that +might turn up.</p> + +<p>He lit a cigar, pushed back his chair, and replied +blandly, <q>I am in your hands. I am ready to enjoy +anyzing.</q></p> + +<p><q>Do you wish instruction or entertainment?</q></p> + +<p><q>Mix zem, Bonker. Entertain by instrogtion; instrogt +by entertaining.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are epigrammatic, Baron, but devilish vague. I +presume, however, that you wish entertaining experience +<pb n="81"/><anchor id="Pg81"/> +from which a man of your philosophical temperament +can draw a moral—afterwards.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha!</q> laughed the Baron. <q>Excellent! You provide +ze experiences—I draw ze moral.</q></p> + +<p><q>And we share the entertainment. The theory is +perfect, but I’m afraid we need a programme. Now, on +my own first visit to London I remember being taken—by +the hand—to Madame Tussaud’s Waxworks, the Tower, +St Paul’s Cathedral, the fishmarket at Billingsgate, the +British Museum, and a number of other damnably edifying +spectacles. You might naturally suppose that after +such a round it would be quite superfluous for me ever to +come up to town again. Yet, surprising as it may appear, +most of the knowledge of London I hope to put at +your disposal has been gained in the course of subsequent +visits.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot zese places—Tousaud, Tower, +Paul’s—are zey not instrogtif?</q></p> + +<p><q>If you wish to learn that a great number of years +ago a vast quantity of inconsequent events occurred, or +that in an otherwise amusing enough world there are +here and there collected so many roomfuls of cheerless +articles, I can strongly recommend a visit to the Tower of +London or the British Museum.</q></p> + +<p><q>In mine own gontry,</q> said the Baron, thoughtfully, +<q>I can lairn zo moch.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then, my dear Baron, while you are here forget it +all.</q></p> + +<p><q>And yet,</q> said the Baron, still thoughtfully, <q>somzing +I should lairn here.</q></p> +<pb n="82"/><anchor id="Pg82"/> + +<p><q>Certainly; you will learn something of what goes on +underneath a waistcoat and a little of the contents of a +corset and petticoat. Also of the strange customs of this +city and the excellence of British institutions.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> laughed the Baron, who thought that if +his friend had not actually made a jest, it was at least +time for one to occur. <q>I see, I see. I draw ze moral, +ha, ha!</q></p> + +<p><q>This morning,</q> Mr Bunker continued, reflectively, +<q>we might—let me see—well, we might do a little +shopping. To tell you the truth, Baron, my South African +experiences have somewhat exhausted my wardrobe.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, zo. Cairtainly ve vill shop. Bot, Bonker, +Soud Africa? Vas it not Soud America?</q></p> + +<p><q>Did I say Africa? America of course I meant. +Well, let us shop if you have no objections: then we might +have a little lunch, and afterwards visit the Park. For +the evening, what do you say to a theatre?</q></p> + +<p><q>Goot!</q> cried the Baron. <q>Make it tzos.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker’s shopping turned out to be a pretty extensive +operation.</p> + +<p><q>Loan vat you please of money,</q> said his friend. <q>A +gentleman should be dressed in agreement.</q></p> + +<p>With now and then an apology for his extravagance, +he took full advantage of the Baron’s generosity, and +ordered such an assortment of garments that his tailor +could hardly bow low enough to express his gratification.</p> + +<p>After an excellent lunch in the most expensive restaurant +to be found, they walked arm-in-arm westwards along +<pb n="83"/><anchor id="Pg83"/> +Piccadilly, Mr Bunker pointing out the various objects +of historical or ephemeral interest to be seen in that +thoroughfare, the Baron drinking in this information +with the serious air of the distinguished traveller.</p> + +<p><q>And now we come to the Park,</q> said Mr Bunker. +<q>Guard your heart, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> replied the Baron. <q>Zo instrogtion is +feenished, and now goms entertainment, ha?</q></p> + +<p><q>With the moral always running through it, remember.</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall not forget.</q></p> + +<p>The sunshine had brought out a great many carriages +and a sprinkling of walkers along the railings. The two +friends strolled among them, eyeing the women and +stopping now and then to look back at a carriage.</p> + +<p><q>I suppose,</q> said the Baron, <q>zat vile you haf been +avay your frients have forgot you.</q></p> + +<p>As he spoke a young man looked hard at Mr Bunker, +and even made a movement as though he would stop +and speak to him. Mr Bunker looked blandly through +him and walked on.</p> + +<p><q>Do you not know zat gentleman?</q></p> + +<p><q>Which gentleman?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze young man zat looked so at you.</q></p> + +<p><q>Some young men have a way of staring here, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>A few minutes later a lady in a passing carriage looked +round sharply at them with an air of great surprise, and +half bowed.</p> + +<p><q>Surely,</q> exclaimed the Baron, <q>zat vas a frient of +yours!</q></p> + +<p><q>I am not a friend of hers, then,</q> Mr Bunker replied +<pb n="84"/><anchor id="Pg84"/> +with a laugh. <q>Her bow I think must have been aimed +at you.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron shook his head, and seemed to be drawing +a moral.</p> + +<p><q>Baron,</q> his friend exclaimed, suddenly, <q>let us go +back; here comes one of our most popular phenomena, +a London fog. We need not stay in the Park to observe +it.</q></p> + +<p>The sun was already obscured; there stole a most +insidious chill through the air; like the changing of a +scene on the stage they found themselves in a few minutes +walking in a little ring of trees and road and iron railings +instead of a wide sunny park; the roar of the streets came +from behind a wall of mist that opened mysteriously to let +a phantom carriage in and out, and closed silently behind +it again.</p> + +<p><q>I like not zis,</q> said the Baron, with a shiver.</p> + +<p>By the time they had found Piccadilly again there was +nothing at all to be seen but the light of the nearest lamp, +as large and far away as a struggling sun, and the shadowy +people who flitted by.</p> + +<p>Their talk ceased. The Baron turned up his collar +and sucked his cigar lugubriously, and Mr Bunker +seemed unusually thoughtful. They had walked nearly +as far as Piccadilly Circus when they were pulled up by a +cab turning down a side-street. There was a lamp-post +at the corner, and under it stood a burly man, his red +face quite visible as they came up to his shoulder.</p> + +<p>In an instant Mr Bunker seized the Baron by the arm, +pulled him round, and began to walk hastily back again.</p> +<pb n="85"/><anchor id="Pg85"/> + +<p><q>Vat for zis?</q> said the Baron, in great astonishment.</p> + +<p><q>We have come too far, thanks to this infernal fog. +We must cross the street and take the first turning on the +other side. I must apologise, Baron, for my absence of +mind.</q></p> + +<milestone unit="tb" rend="stars: 5"/> + +<p>The cab passed by and the red-faced man strolled on.</p> + +<p><q>Like lookin’ for a needle in a bloomin’ +haystack,</q> he said to himself. <q>I might as well go back +to Clankwood. ’E’s a good riddance, I say.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0204" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER IV.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron and Mr Bunker discussed their dinner +with the relish of approving connoisseurs. Mr Bunker +commended the hock, and suggested a second bottle; +the Baron praised the <hi +rend="font-style: italic">entrées</hi>, and insisted on another +helping. The frequent laughter arising from their table +excited general remark throughout the room, and already +the waiters were whispering to the other guests that this +was a German nobleman of royal blood engaged in a +diplomatic mission of importance, and his friend a ducal +member of the English Cabinet, at present, for reasons +of state, incognito.</p> + +<p><q>Bonker!</q> exclaimed the Baron, <q>I am in zat frame +of head I vant a romance, an adventure</q> (lowering his +voice a little), <q>mit a beautiful lady, Bonker.</q></p> + +<p><q>It must be a romance, Baron?</q></p> +<pb n="86"/><anchor id="Pg86"/> + +<p><q>A novel, a story to tell to mine frients. In a strange +city man expects strange zings.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, I’ll do my best for you, but I confess the provision +of romantic adventures is a little outside the programme +we’ve arranged.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha! Ve shall see, ve shall see, Bonker!</q></p> + +<p>They arrived at the Corinthian Theatre about the +middle of the first act, for, as Mr Bunker explained, it +is always well to produce a good first impression, and +few more effective means can be devised than working +one’s way to the middle of a line of stalls with the play +already in progress.</p> + +<p>Hardly were they seated when the Baron drove his +elbow into his friend’s ribs (draped for the night, it may +be remarked, with one of the Baron’s spare dress-coats) +and exclaimed in an excited whisper, <q>Next to you, +Bonker! Ach, zehr hüpsch!</q></p> + +<p>Even before this hint Mr Bunker had observed that +the lady on the other side of him was possessed of exceptional +attractions. For a little time he studied her +out of the corners of his eyes. He noticed that the stall +on the farther side of her was empty, that she once or +twice looked round as though she expected somebody, +and that she seemed not altogether unconscious of her +new neighbours. He further observed that her face +was of a type that is more usually engaged in attack than +defence.</p> + +<p>Then he whispered, <q>Would you like to know her?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, yah!</q> replied the Baron, eagerly. <q>Bot—can +you?</q></p> +<pb n="87"/><anchor id="Pg87"/> + +<p>Mr Bunker smiled confidently. A few minutes later +he happened to let his programme fall into her lap.</p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon,</q> he whispered, softly, and glanced +into her eyes with a smile ready.</p> + +<p>His usual discernment had not failed him. She +smiled, and instantly he produced his.</p> + +<p>A little later her opera-glasses happened to slip from +her hand, and though they only slipped slowly, it was no +doubt owing to his ready presence of mind that their fall +was averted.</p> + +<p>This time their fingers happened to touch, and they +smiled without an apology.</p> + +<p>He leant towards her, looking, however, at the play. +They shared a laugh over a joke that she might have +been excused for not understanding; presently a criticism +of some situation escaped him inadvertently, and she +smiled again; soon after she gave an exclamation and he +answered sympathetically, and at the end of the act the +curtain came down on an acquaintance already begun. +As the lights were turned up, and here and there men +began to go out, she again looked at the entrances in +some apparent concern, either lest some one should not +come in or lest some one should.</p> + +<p><q>He is late,</q> said Mr Bunker, smiling.</p> + +<p>She gave a very enticing look of surprise, and consented +to smile back before she coyly looked away again.</p> + +<p><q>An erring husband, I presume.</q></p> + +<p>She admitted that it was in fact a husband who had +failed her.</p> + +<p><q>But,</q> she added, <q>I’m +afraid—I mean I expect he’ll +<pb n="88"/><anchor id="Pg88"/> +come in after the next act. It’s so tiresome of him to +disappoint me like this.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker expressed the deepest sympathy with her +unfortunate predicament.</p> + +<p><q>He has his ticket, of course?</q></p> + +<p>But it seemed that she had both the tickets with her, +an arrangement which he immediately denounced as +likely to lead to difficulties when her husband arrived. +He further, in the most obliging manner, suggested that +he should take the ticket for the other seat to the booking +office and leave instructions for its being given to the +gentleman on his arrival. The lady gave him a curious +little glance that seemed to imply a mixture of doubt as +to his motives with confidence in his abilities, and then +with many thanks agreed to his suggestion. Mr Bunker +took the ticket and rose at once.</p> + +<p><q>That I may be sure you are in good company while I +am away,</q> said he, <q>permit me to introduce my friend +the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg.</q></p> + +<p>And the Baron promptly took his vacant seat.</p> + +<p>On his return Mr Bunker found his friend wreathed +in smiles and engaged in the most animated conversation +with the lady, and before the last act was over, he gathered +from such scraps of conversation as reached his ears that +Rudolph von Blitzenberg had little to learn in one department +of a nobleman’s duties.</p> + +<p><q>I wonder where my husband can be,</q> the lady +whispered.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, heed him not, fair lady,</q> replied the Baron. +<q>Am I not instead of a hosband?</q></p> +<pb n="89"/><anchor id="Pg89"/> + +<p><q>I’m afraid you’re a very naughty man, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ven I am viz you,</q> the gallant Baron answered, <q>I +forget myself all bot your charms.</q></p> + +<p>These advances being made in the most dulcet tones +of which the nobleman was master, and accompanied +by the most enamoured expression, it is not surprising +that the lady permitted herself to listen to them with +perhaps too ready an ear. What Mr Bunker’s arrangement +with the booking clerk had been was never quite +clear, but certainly the erring husband failed to make +his appearance at all, and at the last fall of the curtain +she was easily persuaded to let the Baron escort her home.</p> + +<p><q>I know I ought not, but if a husband deserts one so +faithlessly, what can I do?</q> she said, with a very becoming +little shrug of her shoulders and a captivating lift +of her eyebrows.</p> + +<p><q>Ah, vat indeed? He desairves not so fair a consort.</q></p> + +<p><q>But won’t it be troubling you?</q></p> + +<p><q>Trouble? Pleasure and captivation!</q></p> + +<p><q>Excuse me, Baron,</q> said the voice of Mr Bunker at +his elbow; <q>if you will wait here at the door I shall send +up a cab.</q></p> + +<p><q>Goot!</q> cried the Baron, <q>a zouzand zanks!</q></p> + +<p><q>I myself,</q> added Mr Bunker, with a profound bow +to the lady, <q>shall say good night now. The best of +luck, Baron!</q></p> + +<p>In a few minutes a hansom drove up, and the Baron, +springing in beside his charge, told the man to drive to +602 Eaton Square.</p> + +<p><q>Not too qvickly!</q> he added, in a stage aside.</p> +<pb n="90"/><anchor id="Pg90"/> + +<p>They reached Trafalgar Square, matters inside going +harmoniously as a marriage bell,—almost, in fact, too +much suggesting that simile.</p> + +<p><q>Why are we going down Whitehall?</q> the lady exclaimed, +suddenly.</p> + +<p><q>I know not,</q> replied the Baron, placidly.</p> + +<p><q>Ask him where he is going!</q> she said.</p> + +<p>The Baron, as in duty bound, asked, and the reassuring +reply, <q>All right, sir,</q> came back through the hole in the +roof.</p> + +<p><q>I seem to know that man’s voice,</q> the lady said. +<q>He must have driven me before.</q></p> + +<p><q>To me all ze English speak ze same,</q> replied the +Baron. <q>All bot you, my fairest, viz your sound like +a—vat you call?—fiddle, is it?</q></p> + +<p>Though his charmer had serious misgivings regarding +their cabman’s topographical knowledge, the Baron’s +company proved so absorbing that it was not till they +were being rapidly driven over Vauxhall Bridge that she +at last took alarm. At first the Baron strove to soothe +her by the most approved Teutonic blandishments, but +in time he too began to feel concerned, and in a voice +like thunder he repeatedly called upon the driver to stop. +No reply was vouchsafed, and the pace merely grew the +more reckless.</p> + +<p><q>Can’t you catch the reins?</q> cried the lady, who had +got into a terrible fright.</p> + +<p>The Baron twice essayed the feat, but each time a +heavy blow over the knuckles from the butt-end of the +whip forced him to desist. The lady burst into tears. +<pb n="91"/><anchor id="Pg91"/> +The Baron swore in five languages alternately, and still +the cab pursued its headlong career through deserted +midnight streets, past infrequent policemen and stray +belated revellers, on into an unknown wilderness of +brick.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, don’t let him murder me!</q> sobbed the lady.</p> + +<p><q>Haf cheer, fairest; he shall not vile I am viz you! Gott +in himmel, ze rascal! Parbleu und blood! Goddam! +Vait till I catch him, hell and blitzen! Haf courage, +dear!</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh dear, oh dear!</q> wailed the lady. <q>I +shall <hi rend="font-style: italic">never</hi> +do it again!</q></p> + +<p>They must have covered miles, and still the speed +never abated, when suddenly, as they were rounding a +sharp corner, the horse slipped on the frost-bound road, +and in the twinkling of an eye the Baron and the lady +were sitting on opposite sides of their fallen steed, and +the cabman was rubbing his head some yards in front.</p> + +<p><q>Teufel!</q> exclaimed the Baron, rising carefully to +his feet. <q>Ach, mine dearest vun, art thou hurt?</q></p> + +<p>The lady was silent for a moment, as though trying +to decide, and then she burst into hysterical laughter.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, zo,</q> said the Baron, much relieved, <q>zen vill I +see ze cabman.</q></p> + +<p>That individual was still rubbing his head with a rueful +air, and the Baron was about to pour forth all his bottled-up +indignation, when at the sight of the driver’s face he +started back in blank astonishment.</p> + +<p><q>Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>It is I indeed, my dear Baron,</q> replied that gentleman, +<pb n="92"/><anchor id="Pg92"/> +politely. <q>I must ask a thousand pardons for +causing you this trifling inconvenience. As to your +friend, I don’t know how I am to make my peace with +her.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot—bot vat means zis?</q> gasped the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>I was merely endeavouring to provide the spice of +romance you required, besides giving you the opportunity +of making the lady’s better acquaintance. Can I do +anything more for you, Baron? And you, my dear +lady, can I assist you in any way?</q></p> + +<p>Both, speaking at once and with some heat, gave a +decidedly affirmative answer.</p> + +<p><q>Where are we?</q> asked the lady, who hovered between +fright and indignation.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p><q>It would be rash to hazard an opinion,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p><q>Well!</q> cried the lady, her indignation quite overcoming +her fright. <q>Do you mean to say you’ve brought +us here against our wills and probably got me +into <hi rend="font-style: italic">dreadful</hi> +trouble, and you don’t even know where we are?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker looked up at the heavens with a studious +air.</p> + +<p><q>One <hi rend="font-style: italic">ought</hi> to be +able to tell something of our whereabouts +from one of those stars,</q> he replied; <q>but, to tell +the truth, I don’t quite know which. In short, madame, +it is not from want of goodwill, but merely through +ignorance, that I cannot direct you.</q></p> + +<p>The lady turned impatiently to the Baron.</p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">You’ve</hi> helped +to get me into this mess,</q> she said, +tartly. <q>What do you propose to do?</q></p> +<pb n="93"/><anchor id="Pg93"/> + +<p><q>My fairest&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Don’t!</q> she interrupted, stamping her foot on the +frosty road, and then inconsequently burst into tears. +The Baron and Mr Bunker looked at one another.</p> + +<p><q>It is a fine night for a walk, and the cab, I’m afraid, +is smashed beyond hope of redemption. Give the lady +your arm, Baron; we must eventually arrive somewhere.</q></p> + +<p>There was really nothing else for it, so leaving the horse +and cab to be recovered by the first policeman who chanced +to pass, they set out on foot. At last, after half an hour’s +ramble through the solitudes of South London, a belated +cab was hailed and all three got inside. Once on her +way home, the lady’s indignation again gave way to +fright.</p> + +<p><q>What <hi rend="font-style: italic">am</hi> I to do? +What <hi rend="font-style: italic">am</hi> I to do?</q> she wailed. +<q>Oh, whatever will my husband say?</q></p> + +<p>In his most confident and irresistible manner Mr +Bunker told her he would make matters all right for her +at whatever cost to himself; and so infectious was his +assurance, that, when at last they reached Eaton Square, +she allowed him to come up to the door of number 602. +The Baron prudently remained in the cab, for, as he explained, +<q>My English, he is unsafe.</q></p> + +<p>After a prolonged knocking and ringing the door at +length opened, and an irascible-looking, middle-aged +gentleman appeared, arrayed in a dressing-gown.</p> + +<p><q>Louisa!</q> he cried. <q>What the dev—where on earth +have you been? The police are looking for you all over +London. And may I venture to ask who this is with +you?</q></p> +<pb n="94"/><anchor id="Pg94"/> + +<p>Mr Bunker bowed slightly and raised his hat.</p> + +<p><q>My dear sir,</q> he said, <q>we found this lady in a +lamentable state of intoxication in the Tottenham Court +Road, and as I understand you have a kind of reversionary +interest in her, we have brought her here. As for +you, sir, your appearance is so unprepossessing that I +am unable to remain any longer. Good night,</q> and +raising his hat again he entered the cab and drove off, +assuring the Baron that matters were satisfactorily +arranged.</p> + +<p><q>So you have had your adventure, Baron,</q> he added, +with a smile.</p> + +<p>For a minute or two the Baron was silent. Then he +broke into a cheerful guffaw, <q>Ha, ha, ha! You are a +fonny devil, Bonker! Ach, bot it vas pleasant vile it +lasted!</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0205" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER V.</hi> +</head> + +<p>A few days passed in the most entertaining manner. +A menu of amusements was regularly prepared suitable +to a catholic taste, and at every turn the Baron was +struck by the enterprise and originality of his friend. +He had, however, a national bent for serious inquiry, +and now and then doubts crossed his mind whether, +with all his moral drawing, he was acquiring quite as +much solid information as he had set out to gain. This +idea grew upon him, till one morning, after gazing for +some time at the English newspaper he always made a +<pb n="95"/><anchor id="Pg95"/> +point of reading, he suddenly exclaimed, <q>Bonker, I haf +a doubt!</q></p> + +<p><q>I have many,</q> replied Mr Bunker; <q>in fact, I have +few positive ideas left.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot mine is a particulair doubt. Do I lairn enoff?</q></p> + +<p><q>My own conception of enough learning, Baron, is a +thing like a threepenny-bit—the smallest coin one can do +one’s marketing with.</q></p> + +<p><q>And yet,</q> said the Baron, solemnly, <q>for my own +share, I am not satisfied. I vould lairn more of ze British +institutions; so far I haf lairned of ze pleasures only.</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, they are the British institutions.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron shook his head and fell to his paper again, +while Mr Bunker stretched himself on the sofa and +gazed through his cigar-smoke at the ceiling. Suddenly +the Baron gave an exclamation of horror.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, what is the matter?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yet anozer outrage!</q> cried the Baron. <q>Zese anarchists, +zey are too scandalous. At all ze stations zere +are detectives, and all ze ships are being vatched. Ach, +it is terrible!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker seemed struck with an idea, for he stared +at the ceiling without making any reply, and his eyes, +had the Baron seen them, twinkled curiously.</p> + +<p>At last the Baron laid down his paper.</p> + +<p><q>Vell, vat shall ve do?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>Let us come first to Liverpool Street Station, if you +don’t mind, Baron,</q> his friend suggested. <q>I have something +in the cloak-room there I want to pick up.</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Bonker, I shall go vere you vill; bot remember +<pb n="96"/><anchor id="Pg96"/> +I vant to-day more instrogtion and less entertainment.</q></p> + +<p><q>You wish to see the practical side of English life?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yah—zat is, yes.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker smiled.</p> + +<p><q>Then I must entertain myself.</q></p> + +<p>As they drove down he was in his wittiest humour, +and the Baron, in spite of his desire for instruction, was +more charmed with his friend than ever.</p> + +<p><q>Vat fonny zing vill you do next, eh?</q> he asked, as +they walked arm-in-arm into the station.</p> + +<p><q>I am no more the humourist, my dear Baron,—I +shall endeavour to edify you.</q></p> + +<p>They had arrived at a busy hour, when the platforms +were crowded with passengers and luggage. A train +had just come in, and around it the bustle was at its +height, and the confusion most bewildering.</p> + +<p><q>Wait for me here,</q> said Mr Bunker; <q>I shall be +back in a minute.</q></p> + +<p>He started in the direction of the cloak-room, and +then, doubling back through the crowd, walked down +the platform and stopped opposite a luggage-van. An +old gentleman, beside himself with irritation, was struggling +with the aid of a porter to collect his luggage, and +presently he left the pile he had got together and made +a rush in the direction of a large portmanteau that was +just being tumbled out. Instantly Mr Bunker picked +up a handbag from the heap and walked quickly off +with it.</p> + +<p><q>Here you are, Baron,</q> he said, as he came up to his +<pb n="97"/><anchor id="Pg97"/> +friend. <q>I find there is something else I must do, so do +you mind holding this bag for a few minutes? If you +will walk up and down in front of the refreshment-rooms +here, I’ll find you more easily. Is it troubling you too +much?</q></p> + +<p><q>Not vun bit, Bonker. I am in your sairvice.</q></p> + +<p>He put the bag into the Baron’s hand with his pleasantest +smile, and turned away. Rounding a corner, he +came cautiously back again through the crowd and +stepped up to a policeman.</p> + +<p><q>Keep your eye on that man, officer,</q> he said, in a low +confidential voice, and an air of quiet authority, <q>and +put your plain clothes’ men on his track. I know him +for one of the most dangerous anarchists.</q></p> + +<p>The man started and stared hard at the Baron, and +presently that unconscious nobleman, pacing the platform +in growing wonder at Mr Bunker’s lengthy absence, +and looking anxiously round him on all sides, noticed +with surprise that a number of quietly dressed men, +with no apparent business in the station, were eyeing +him with, it seemed to him, an interest that approached +suspicion. In time he grew annoyed, he returned their +glances with his haughtiest and most indignant look, +and finally, stepping up to one of them, asked in no friendly +voice, <q>Vat for do you vatch me?</q></p> + +<p>The man returned an evasive answer, and passing one +of his fellow-officers, whispered, <q>Foreign; I was sure +of it.</q></p> + +<p>At last the Baron could stand it no longer, and laying +the bag down by the door of the refreshment-room, +<pb n="98"/><anchor id="Pg98"/> +turned hastily away. On the instant Mr Bunker, who +had watched these proceedings from a safe distance, +cried in a loud and agonised voice, <q>Down with your +men, sergeant! Down, lie down! It will explode in +twenty seconds!</q></p> + +<p>And as he spoke he threw himself flat on his face. +So infectious were his commanding voice and his note +of alarm that one after another, detectives, passengers, +and porters, cast themselves at full length on the platform. +The Baron, filled with terror of anarchist plots, +was one of the first to prostrate himself, and at that there +could be no further doubt of the imminence of the peril.</p> + +<p>The cabs rattled and voices sounded from outside; +an engine whistled and shunted at a far platform, but +never before at that hour of the day had Liverpool Street +Station been so silent. All held their breath and heard +their hearts thump as they gazed in horrible fascination +at that fatal bag, or with closed eyes stumbled through +a hasty prayer. Fully a minute passed, and the suspense +was growing intolerable, when with a loud oath an old +gentleman rose to his feet and walked briskly up to the +bag.</p> + +<p><q>Have a care, sir! For Heaven’s sake have a care!</q> +cried Mr Bunker; but the old gentleman merely bent +over the terrible object, and, picking it up, exclaimed +in bewildered wrath, <q>It’s my bag! Who the devil +brought it here, and what’s the meaning of this d—d +nonsense?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!</q> roared Mr Bunker; while like +sheepish mushrooms the people sprang up on all sides.</p> +<pb n="99"/><anchor id="Pg99"/> + +<p><q>My dear sir,</q> said Mr Bunker, coming up to the old +gentleman, and raising his hat with his most affable air, +<q>permit me to congratulate you on recovering your lost +property, and allow me further to introduce my friend +the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg.</q></p> + +<p><q>Baron von damned-humbug!</q> cried the old gentleman. +<q>Did you take my bag, sir? and if so, are you a +thief or a lunatic?</q></p> + +<p>For an instant even Mr Bunker himself seemed a trifle +taken aback; then he replied politely, <q>I am not a thief, +sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then what <hi rend="font-style: italic">’ave</hi> you +been doing?</q> demanded the sergeant.</p> + +<p><q>Merely demonstrating to my friend the Baron the +extraordinary vigilance of the English police.</q></p> + +<p>For a time neither the old gentleman nor the sergeant +seemed quite capable of taking the same view of the +episode as Mr Bunker, and, curiously enough, the Baron +seemed not disinclined to let his friend extricate himself +as best he could. No one, however, could resist Mr +Bunker, and before very long he and the Baron were +driving up Bishopsgate Street together, with the old +gentleman’s four-wheeler lumbering in front of them.</p> + +<p><q>Well, Baron, are you satisfied with your morning’s +instruction?</q> asked his friend.</p> + +<p><q>A German nobleman is not used to be in soch a +position,</q> replied the Baron, stiffly.</p> + +<p><q>You must admit, however, that the object-lesson in +the detection of anarchy was neatly presented.</q></p> + +<p><q>I admit nozing of ze kind,</q> said the Baron, stolidly.</p> +<pb n="100"/><anchor id="Pg100"/> + +<p>For the rest of the drive he sat obdurately silent. He +went to his room with the mien of an offended man. +During lunch he only opened his lips to eat.</p> + +<p>On his side Mr Bunker maintained a cheerful composure, +and seemed not a whit put about by his friend’s +lack of appreciation.</p> + +<p><q>Anozzer bottle of claret,</q> said the Baron, gruffly, to +a waiter.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker let him consume it entirely by himself, +awaiting the results with patience. Gradually his face +relaxed a little, until all at once, when the bump in the +bottom of the bottle was beginning to appear above the +wine, the whole room was startled by a stentorian, <q>Ha, +ha, ha!</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Bonker!</q> cried the Baron, when he had +finished laughing, <q>forgif me! I begin for to see ze +moral, ha, ha, ha!</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0206" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VI.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron expressed no further wish for instruction, +but, instead, he began to show a desire for society.</p> + +<p><q>Doesn’t one fool suffice?</q> his friend asked.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, yes, my vise fool; ha, ha, ha! Bot sometimes +I haf ze craving for peoples, museec, dancing—in vun +vord, society, Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>But this is not the season, Baron. You wouldn’t +mix with any but the best society, would you?</q></p> +<pb n="101"/><anchor id="Pg101"/> + +<p><q>Zere are some nobles in town. In my paper I see +Lord zis, Duke of zat, in London. Pairhaps my introdogtions +might be here now.</q></p> + +<p>This suggestion seemed to strike Mr Bunker unfavourably.</p> + +<p><q>My company is beginning to pall, is it, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, no, dear Bonker! I vould merely go out jost +vunce or tvice. Haf you no friends now in town?</q></p> + +<p>An idea seemed to seize Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>Let me see the paper,</q> he said.</p> + +<p>After perusing it carefully for a little, he at last exclaimed +in a tone of pleased discovery, <q>Hullo! I see +that Lady Tulliwuddle is giving a reception and dance +to-night. Most of the smart people in town just now +are sure to be there. Would you care to go, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, surely,</q> said the Baron, eagerly. <q>Bot haf +you been invited, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh, I used to have a standing invitation to Lady +Tulliwuddle’s dances, and I’m certain she would be glad +to see me again.</q></p> + +<p><q>Can you take me?</q></p> + +<p><q>Of course, my dear Baron, she will be honoured.</q></p> + +<p><q>Goot!</q> cried the Baron. <q>Ve shall go.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker explained that it was the proper thing to +arrive very late, and so it was not until after twelve o’clock +that they left the Hôtel Mayonaise for the regions of +Belgravia. The Baron, primed with a bottle of champagne, +and arrayed in a costume which Mr Bunker had +assured him was the very latest extreme of fashion, and +which included a scarlet watered silk waistcoat, a pair +<pb n="102"/><anchor id="Pg102"/> +of white silk socks, and a lavender tie, was in a condition +of cheerfulness verging closely on hilarity. Mr +Bunker, that, as he said, he might better serve as a +foil to his friend’s splendour, went more inconspicuously +dressed, but was likewise well charged with champagne. +He too was in his happiest vein, and the vision of the +Baron’s finery appeared to afford him peculiar gratification.</p> + +<p>Their hansom stopped in front of a large and gaily +lit-up mansion, with an awning leading to the door, +and a cluster of carriages and footmen by the kerbstone. +They entered, and having divested themselves of their +coats, Mr Bunker proposed that they should immediately +seek the supper-room.</p> + +<p><q>Bot should I not be first introduced to mine hostess?</q> +asked the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron! a formal reception of the guests is +entirely foreign to English etiquette.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zo? I did not know zat.</q></p> + +<p>The supper-room was crowded, and having secured a +table with some difficulty, Mr Bunker entered immediately +into conversation with a solitary young gentleman +who was consuming a plate of oysters. Before they had +exchanged six sentences the young man had entirely +succumbed to Mr Bunker’s address, aided possibly by +the young man’s supper.</p> + +<p><q>Permit me to introduce my friend the Baron Rudolph +von Blitzenberg, a nobleman strange as yet to England, +but renowned throughout his native land alike for his +talents and his lofty position,</q> said Mr Bunker.</p> +<pb n="103"/><anchor id="Pg103"/> + +<p><q>Ach, my good friend,</q> exclaimed the Baron, grasping +the young man’s hand, <q>das ist Bonker’s vat you call +nonsense; bot I am delighted, zehr delighted, to meet +you, and if you gom to Bavaria you most shoot vid me! +Bravo! Ha!</q></p> + +<p>From which it may be gathered that the Baron was in +a genial humour.</p> + +<p><q>Who is that girl?</q> asked Mr Bunker, pointing to an +extremely pretty damsel just leaving the room.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, that’s my cousin, Lady Muriel Hilton. She’s +thought rather pretty, I believe,</q> answered the young +man.</p> + +<p><q>Do you mind introducing me?</q></p> + +<p><q>Certainly,</q> said their new friend. <q>Come along.</q></p> + +<p>As they were passing through the room a little incident +occurred that, if the Baron’s perceptions had been keener, +might have given him cause for some speculation. Two +men standing by the door looked hard at Mr Bunker, +and then at each other, and as the Baron passed them +he heard one say, <q>It looks devilish like him.</q></p> + +<p><q>He has shaved, then,</q> said the other.</p> + +<p><q>Evidently,</q> replied the first speaker; <q>but I thought +he was unlikely to appear in any society for some time.</q></p> + +<p>They both laughed, and the Baron heard no more.</p> + +<p>When they reached the ballroom the band was striking +up a polka, and presently Mr Bunker, with his accustomed +grace, was tearing round the room with Lady Muriel, +while the Baron—the delight of all eyes in his red +waistcoat—led out her sister. In a very short time the other +dancers found the Baron and his friend’s onslaught so +<pb n="104"/><anchor id="Pg104"/> +vigorous that prudence compelled them to take shelter +along the wall, and from a safe distance admire the +evolutions of these two mysterious guests.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker was enlivening the monotony of the polka +by the judicious introduction of hornpipe steps, while +the Baron, his coat-tails high above his head, shouted and +stamped in his wild career.</p> + +<p><q>Do stop for a minute, Baron,</q> gasped his fair partner.</p> + +<p><q>Himmel, nein!</q> roared the Baron. <q>I haf gom here +for to dance! Ha, Bonker, ha!</q></p> + +<p>At last Lady Muriel had to stop through sheer exhaustion, +but Mr Bunker, merely letting her go, pursued his +solitary way, double-shuffling and kicking unimpeded.</p> + +<p>The Baron stopped, breathless, to admire him. Round +and round he went, the only figure in the middle of the +room, his arms akimbo, his feet rat-tatting and kicking +to the music, while high above the band resounded his +friend’s shouts of <q>Bravo, Bonker! Wunderschön! +Gott in himmel, higher, higher!</q> till at length, missing +the wall in an attempt to find support, the Baron dropped +with a thud into a sitting posture and continued his demonstrations +from the floor.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile their alarmed hostess was holding a hasty +consultation with her husband, and when the music at +last stopped and Mr Bunker was advancing with his +most courteous air towards his late partner, Lord Tulliwuddle +stepped up to him and touched his arm.</p> + +<p><q>May I speak to you, sir?</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>Certainly,</q> replied Mr Bunker. <q>I shall be honoured. +Excuse me for one moment, Lady Muriel.</q></p> +<pb n="105"/><anchor id="Pg105"/> + +<p><q>At whose invitation have you come here to-night?</q> +demanded his host, sternly.</p> + +<p><q>I have the pleasure of addressing Lord Tulliwuddle, +have I not?</q></p> + +<p><q>You have, sir.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker bent towards him and whispered something +in his ear.</p> + +<p><q>From Scotland Yard?</q> exclaimed his lordship.</p> + +<p><q>Hush!</q> said Mr Bunker, glancing cautiously round +the room, and then he added, with an air of impressive +gravity, <q>You have a bathroom on the third floor, I +believe?</q></p> + +<p><q>I have,</q> replied his host in great surprise.</p> + +<p><q>Has it a bell?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, I believe not.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ah, I thought so. If you will favour me by coming +up-stairs for a minute, my Lord, you will avoid a serious +private scandal. Say nothing about it at present to any +one.</q></p> + +<p>In blank astonishment and some alarm Lord Tulliwuddle +went up with him to the third floor, where the +house was still and the sounds of revelry reached faintly.</p> + +<p><q>What does this mean, sir?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>If I am right in my conjectures you will need no +explanation from me, my Lord.</q></p> + +<p>His lordship opened a door, and turning on an electric +light, revealed a small and ordinary-looking bathroom.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, no bell—excellent!</q> said Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>What are you doing with the key?</q> exclaimed his +host.</p> +<pb n="106"/><anchor id="Pg106"/> + +<p><q>Good night, my Lord. I shall tell them to send up +breakfast at nine,</q> said Mr Bunker, and stepping quickly +out, he shut and locked the door.</p> + +<p>A minute later he was back in the ballroom looking +anxiously for the Baron, but that nobleman was nowhere +to be seen.</p> + +<p><q>The devil!</q> he said to himself. <q>Can they have +tackled him too?</q></p> + +<p>But as he ran downstairs a gust of cheerful laughter +set his mind at ease.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha! Vere is old Bonker? He also vill shoot +vid me!</q></p> + +<p><q>Here I am, my dear Baron,</q> he exclaimed gaily, +as he tracked the voice into the supper-room.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, mine dear Bonker!</q> cried the Baron, folding +him in his muscular embrace, <q>I haf here met friends, +ve are merry! Ve drink to Bavaria, to England, to +everyzing!</q></p> + +<p>The <q>friends</q> consisted of two highly amused young +men and two half-scandalised, half-hysterical ladies, +into the midst of whose supper-table the Baron had projected +himself with infectious hilarity. They all looked +up with great curiosity at Mr Bunker, but that gentleman +was not in the least put about. He bowed politely to +the table generally, and took his friend by the arm.</p> + +<p><q>It is time we were going, Baron, +I’m afraid,</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>Vat for? Ah, not yet, Bonker, not yet. I am enjoying +myself down to ze floor. I most dance again, Bonker, +jost vunce more,</q> pleaded the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, the noblemen of highest rank must +<pb n="107"/><anchor id="Pg107"/> +always leave first, and people are talking of going now. +Come along, old man.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, is zat so?</q> said the Baron. <q>Zen vill I go. +Good night!</q> he cried, waving his hand to the room +generally. <q>Ven you gom to Bavaria you most all +shoot vid me. Bravo, my goot Bonker! Ha! ha!</q></p> + +<p>As they turned away from the table, one of the young +men, who had been looking very hard at Mr Bunker, +rose and touched his sleeve.</p> + +<p><q>I say, aren’t you&qdash;?</q> he began.</p> + +<p><q>Possibly I am,</q> interrupted Mr Bunker, <q>only I +haven’t the slightest recollection of the fact.</q></p> + +<p>An astonished lady was indicated by Mr Bunker as +the hostess, and to her the Baron bade an affectionate +adieu. He handed a sovereign to the footman, embraced +the butler, and as they sped eastwards in their hansom, +a rousing chorus from the two friends awoke the echoes +of Piccadilly.</p> + +<p><q>Bravo, Bonker! Himmel, I haf enjoyed myself!</q> +sighed the exhausted Baron.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0207" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VII.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron and Mr Bunker discussed a twelve o’clock +breakfast with the relish of men who had done a good +night’s work. The Baron was full of his exploits. <q>Ze +lofly Lady Hilton</q> and his new <q>friends</q> seemed to +have made a vivid impression.</p> +<pb n="108"/><anchor id="Pg108"/> + +<p><q>Zey vill be in ze Park to-day, of course?</q> he suggested.</p> + +<p><q>Possibly,</q> replied Mr Bunker, without any great +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p><q>But surely.</q></p> + +<p><q>After a dance it is rather unlikely.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze Lady Hilton did say she vent to ze Park.</q></p> + +<p><q>To-day, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>I do not remember to-day. I did dance so hard I +was not perhaps distinct. But I shall go and see.</q></p> + +<p>As Mr Bunker’s attempts to throw cold water on this +scheme proved quite futile, he made a graceful virtue of +necessity, dressed himself with care, and set out in the +afternoon for the Park. They had only walked as far +as Piccadilly Circus when in the crowd at the corner his +eye fell upon a familiar figure. It was the burly, red-faced +man.</p> + +<p><q>The devil! Moggridge again!</q> he muttered.</p> + +<p>For a moment he thought they were going to pass +unobserved: then the man turned his head their way, +and Mr Bunker saw him start. He never looked over +his shoulder, but after walking a little farther he called +the Baron’s attention to a shop window, and they stopped +to look at it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Moggridge +about twenty yards behind them stopping too. +He was glancing towards them very doubtfully. Evidently +his mind was not yet made up, and at once Mr +Bunker’s fertile brain began to revolve plans.</p> + +<p>A little farther on they paused before another window, +and exactly the same thing happened. Then Mr Bunker +<pb n="109"/><anchor id="Pg109"/> +made up his mind. He looked carefully at the cabs, +and at last observed a smart-looking young man driving +a fresh likely horse at a walking pace beside the pavement.</p> + +<p>He caught the driver’s eye and raised his stick, and +turning suddenly to the Baron with a gesture of annoyance, +exclaimed, <q>Forgive my rudeness, Baron, I’m +afraid I must leave you. I had clean forgotten an important +engagement in the city for this afternoon.</q></p> + +<p><q>Appointment in ze city?</q> said the Baron in considerable +surprise. <q>I did not know you had friends +in ze city.</q></p> + +<p><q>I have just heard from my father’s man of business, +and I’m afraid it would be impolitic not to see him. Do +you mind if I leave you here?</q></p> + +<p><q>Surely, my dear fellow, I vould not stop you. Already +I feel at home by myself.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then we shall meet at the hotel before dinner. Good +luck with the ladies, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker jumped into the cab, saying only to the +driver, <q>To the city, as quick as you can.</q></p> + +<p><q>What part, sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh, say the Bank. Hurry up!</q></p> + +<p>Then as the man whipped up, Mr Bunker had a glimpse +of Moggridge hailing another cab, and peeping cautiously +through the little window at the back he saw him starting +in hot pursuit. He took five shillings out of his pocket +and opened the trap-door in the roof.</p> + +<p><q>Do you see that other cab chasing us, with a red-faced +man inside?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes, sir.</q></p> +<pb n="110"/><anchor id="Pg110"/> + +<p>Mr Bunker handed his driver the money.</p> + +<p><q>Get rid of him, then. Take me anywhere through +the city you like, and when he’s off the scent let me +know.</q></p> + +<p><q>Very good, sir,</q> replied the driver, cracking his whip +till his steed began to move past the buses and the other +cabs like a train.</p> + +<p>On they flew, clatter and jingle, twisting like a snipe +through the traffic. Mr Bunker perceived that he had a +good horse and a good driver, and he smiled in pleasant +excitement. He lit a cigar, leaned his arms on the doors, +and settled himself to enjoy the race.</p> + +<p>The black lions of Trafalgar Square flew by, then +the colossal hotels of Northumberland Avenue and the +railway bridge at Charing Cross, and they were going +at a gallop along the Embankment. He got swift glimpses +of other cabs and foot-passengers, the trees seemed to +flit past like telegraph-posts on a railway, the barges and +lighters on the river dropped one by one behind them: +it was a fair course for a race, with never a check before +Blackfriar’s Bridge.</p> + +<p>As they turned into Queen Victoria Street he opened +the lid and asked, <q>Are they still in sight?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes, sir; I’m afraid we ain’t gaining much yet. But +I’ll do it, sir, no fears.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker lay back and laughed.</p> + +<p><q>This is better than the Park,</q> he said to himself.</p> + +<p>They had a fine drive up Queen Victoria Street before +they plunged into the whirlpool of traffic at the Bank. +They were slowly making their way across when the +<pb n="111"/><anchor id="Pg111"/> +driver, spying an opening in another stream, abruptly +wheeled round for Cornhill, and presently they were off +again at top speed.</p> + +<p><q>Thrown them off?</q> asked Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>Tried to, sir, but they were too sharp and got clear +away too.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker saw that it was going to be a stern chase, +and laughed again. In order that he might not show +ostensibly that he was running away, he resisted the +temptation of having another peep through the back, +and resigned himself to the chances of the chase.</p> + +<p>Through and through the lanes and byways of the city +they drove, and after each double the answer from the +box was always the same. The cab behind could not be +shaken off.</p> + +<p><q>Work your way round to Holborn and try a run west,</q> +Mr Bunker suggested.</p> + +<p>So after a little they struck Newgate Street, and presently +their steed stretched himself again in Holborn Viaduct.</p> + +<p><q>Gaining now, cabby?</q></p> + +<p><q>A little, sir, I think.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker sat placidly till they were well along Holborn +before he inquired again.</p> + +<p><q>Can’t get rid of ’im no ’ow. +Afride it ain’t much good, sir.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker passed up five shillings more.</p> + +<p><q>Keep your tail up. You’ll do it yet,</q> he exhorted. +<q>Try a turn north; you may bother him among the +squares.</q></p> + +<p>So they doubled north, and as the evening closed in +<pb n="112"/><anchor id="Pg112"/> +their wearied horse was lashed through a maze of monotonous +streets and tarnished Bloomsbury Squares. +And still the other cab stuck to their trail. But when +they emerged on the Euston Road, Mr Bunker was as +cheerful as ever.</p> + +<p><q>They can’t last much longer,</q> he said to his driver. +<q>Turn up Regent’s Park way.</q></p> + +<p>A little later he put the usual question and got the +same unvarying answer.</p> + +<p>The horse was evidently beginning to fail, and he saw +that this chariot-race must soon come to an end. The +street-lamps and the shop windows were all lit up by this +time, and the dusk was pretty thick. It seemed to him +that he might venture to try his luck on foot, and he +began to look out for an opening where a cab could not +follow.</p> + +<p>They were flogging along a noisy stone-paved road +where there was little other traffic; on one side stood an +unbroken row of houses, and on the other were small +semi-detached villas with little strips of garden about +them. All at once he saw a doctor’s red lamp over the +door of one of these half villas, and an inspiration came +upon him.</p> + +<p><q>One can always visit a doctor,</q> he said to himself, and +smiled in great amusement at something in the reflection.</p> + +<p>He stopped the cab, handed the man half a sovereign, +and saying only, <q>Drive away again, quickly,</q> jumped +out, glanced at the name on the plate, and pulled the bell. +As he waited on the step he saw the other cab stop a little +way back, and his pursuer emerge.</p> +<pb n="113"/><anchor id="Pg113"/> + +<p>A frowsy little servant opened the door.</p> + +<p><q>Is Dr Twiddel at home?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>Dr Twiddel’s abroad, sir,</q> said the maid.</p> + +<p><q>No one in at all, then?</q></p> + +<p><q>Dr Billson sees ’is patients, sir—w’en +there <hi rend="font-style: italic">his</hi> any.</q></p> + +<p><q>When do you expect Dr Billson?</q></p> + +<p><q>In about an hour, sir, ’e usually comes hin.</q></p> + +<p><q>Excellent!</q> thought Mr Bunker. Aloud he said, +<q>Well, I’m a patient. I’ll come in and wait.</q></p> + +<p>He stepped in, and the door banged behind him.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0208" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VIII.</hi> +</head> + +<p><q>This w’y, sir,</q> said the maid, and Mr Bunker found +himself in the little room where this story opened.</p> + +<p>The moment he was alone he went to the window and +peeped cautiously between the slats of the venetian blind.</p> + +<p>The street was quiet, both cabs had disappeared, and +for a minute or two he could see nothing even of Moggridge. +Then a figure moved carefully from the shelter +of a bush a little way down the railings, and, after a quick +look at the house, stepped back again.</p> + +<p><q>He means to play the waiting game,</q> said Mr Bunker +to himself. <q>Long may you wait, my wary Moggridge!</q></p> + +<p>He took a rapid survey of the room. He saw the +medical library, the rented furniture, and the unlit gas-stove; +and at last his eye fell upon a box of cigarettes. +To one of these he helped himself and leaned his back +against the mantelpiece.</p> +<pb n="114"/><anchor id="Pg114"/> + +<p><q>There must be at least one room at the back,</q> he +reflected; <q>that room must have a window, and beyond +that window there is all London to turn to. Friend +Moggridge, I trust you are prepared to spend the evening +behind your bush.</q></p> + +<p>He had another look through the blind and shook his +head.</p> + +<p><q>A little too light yet,—I’d better wait for a quarter +of an hour or so.</q></p> + +<p>To while away the time he proceeded to make a tour of +the room, for, as he said to himself, when in an unknown +country any information may possibly come in useful. +There was nothing whatever from which he could draw +even the most superficial deduction till he came to the +writing-desk. Here a heap of bills were transfixed by a +long skewer, and at his first glance at the uppermost his +face assumed an expression of almost ludicrous bewilderment. +He actually rubbed his eyes before he looked a second time.</p> + +<p><q>One dozen shirts,</q> he read, <q>four under-flannels, +four pair socks, one dozen handkerchiefs, two sleeping-suits—marked +Francis Beveridge! the account rendered +to Dr G. Twiddel! What in the name of wonderment +is the meaning of this?</q></p> + +<p>He sat down with the bill in his hand and gazed hard +at it.</p> + +<p><q>Precisely my outfit,</q> he said to himself.</p> + +<p><q>Am I—Does it&qdash;? What a rum thing!</q></p> + +<p>He sat for about ten minutes looking hard at the floor. +Then he burst out laughing, resumed in a moment his +<pb n="115"/><anchor id="Pg115"/> +air of philosophical opportunism, and set about a further +search of the desk. He looked at the bills and seemed to +find nothing more to interest him. Then he glanced at +one or two letters in the drawers, threw the first few back +again, and at last paused over one.</p> + +<p><q>Twiddel to Billson,</q> he said to himself. <q>This +may possibly be worth looking at.</q></p> + +<p>It was dated more than a month back from the town +of Fogelschloss.</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q>Dear Tom,</q> it ran, <q rend="post: none">we are having + an A 1 time. Old Welsh is in splendid form, doing the part + to perfection. He has never given himself away yet, not even + when drunk, which, I am sorry to say, he has been too + often. But then old Welsh is so funny when he is drunk + that it makes him all the more like the original, or at + least what the original is supposed to be.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">Of course we don’t dare to + venture into places where + we would see too many English. This is quite an amusing + place for a German town, some baths and a kind of + a gambling-table, and some pretty girls—for Germans. + There is a sporting aristocrat here, in an old castle, who + is very friendly, and is much impressed with Welsh’s + account of his family plate and deer-forest, and has asked + us once or twice to come out and see him. We are no + end of swells, I assure you.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">Ta, ta, old chap. Hope the practice + prospers in your hands. Don’t kill + <hi rend="font-style: italic">all</hi> the + patients before I come back.—Ever thine,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"> + <hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">GEORGE TWIDDEL</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p><q>From this I conclude that Dr Twiddel is on the +festive side of forty,</q> he reflected; <q>there are elements +of mystery and a general atmosphere of alcohol about +it, but that’s all, I’m afraid.</q></p> +<pb n="116"/><anchor id="Pg116"/> + +<p>He put it back in the drawer, but the bill he slipped +into his pocket.</p> + +<p><q>And now,</q> thought he, <q>it is time I made the first +move.</q></p> + +<p>After waiting for a minute or two to make sure that +everything was quiet, he gently stepped out into a little +linoleum-carpeted hall. On the right hand was the +front door, on the left two others that must, he thought, +open into rooms on the back. He chose the nearer at a +venture, and entered boldly. It was quite dark. He +closed the door again softly, struck a match, and looked +round the room. It seemed to be Dr Twiddel’s dining- +and sitting-room.</p> + +<p><q>Pipes, photographs, well-sat-in chairs,</q> he observed, +<q><hi rend="font-style: italic">and</hi> a window.</q></p> + +<p>He pulled aside the blind and looked out into the darkness +of a strip of back-garden. For a minute he listened +intently, but no sound came from the house. Then he +threw up the sash and scrambled out. It was quite dark +by this time: he was enclosed between two rows of vague, +black houses, with bright windows here and there, and +chimney-cans faintly cutting their uncouth designs among +a few pale London stars. The space between was filled +with the two lines of little gardens and the ranks of walls, +and in the middle the black chasm of a railway cutting.</p> + +<p>A frightened cat bolted before him as he hurried down +to the foot of the strip, but that was all the life he saw. +He looked over the wall right into the deep crevasse. +A little way off, on the one hand, hung a cluster of +signal-lights, and the shining rails reflected them all along to +<pb n="117"/><anchor id="Pg117"/> +the mouth of a tunnel on the other. Turning his head +this way and that, there was nothing to be seen anywhere +else but garden wall after garden wall.</p> + +<p><q>It’s a choice between a hurdle-race through these +gardens, a cat-walk along this wall, and a descent into +the cutting,</q> he reflected. <q>The walls look devilish high +and the cutting devilish deep. Hang me if I know +which road to take.</q></p> + +<p>While he was still debating this somewhat perplexing +question, he felt the ground begin to quiver under him. +Through the hum of London there gradually arose a +louder roar, and in a minute the head-lights of an engine +flashed out of the tunnel. One after another a string of +bright carriages followed it, each more slowly than the +carriage in front, till the whole train was at a standstill +below him with the red signal-lamp against it.</p> + +<p>In an instant his decision was taken. At the peril of +life and garments he scrambled down the rocky bank, +picking as he went an empty first-class compartment, +and just as the train began to move again he swung himself +up and sprang into a carriage.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately he had chosen the wrong one in his +haste, and as he opened the door he saw a comical vision +of a stout little old gentleman huddling into the farther +corner in the most dire consternation.</p> + +<p><q>Who are you, sir? What do you want, sir?</q> spluttered +the old gentleman. <q>If you come any nearer me, +sir—one step, sir!—I shall instantly communicate with +the guard! I have no money about me. Go away, +sir!</q></p> +<pb n="118"/><anchor id="Pg118"/> + +<p><q>I regret to learn that you have no money,</q> replied +Mr Bunker, imperturbably; <q>but I am sorry that I am +not at present in a condition to offer a loan.</q></p> + +<p>He sat down and smiled amicably, but the little gentleman +was not to be quieted so easily. Seeing that no +violence was apparently intended, his fright changed into +respectable indignation.</p> + +<p><q>You needn’t try to be funny with me, sir. You are +committing an illegal act. You have placed yourself in +an uncommonly serious position, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Indeed, sir?</q> replied Mr Bunker. <q>I myself should +have imagined that by remaining on the rails I should +have been much more seriously situated.</q></p> + +<p>The old gentleman looked at him like an angry small +dog that longs to bite if it only dared.</p> + +<p><q>What is the meaning of this illegal intrusion?</q> he +demanded. <q>Who are you? Where did you come +from?</q></p> + +<p><q>I had the misfortune, sir,</q> explained Mr Bunker, +politely, <q>to drop my hat out of the window of a neighbouring +carriage. While I was picking it up the train started, +and I had to enter the first compartment I could find. I +am sorry that my entry frightened you.</q></p> + +<p><q>Frightened me!</q> spluttered the old gentleman. <q>I +am not afraid, sir. I am an honest man who need fear +no one, sir. I do not believe you dropped your hat. It +is perfectly uninjured.</q></p> + +<p><q>It may be news to you, sir,</q> replied Mr Bunker, +<q>that by gently yet firmly passing the sleeve of your coat +round your hat in the direction of the nap, it is possible +<pb n="119"/><anchor id="Pg119"/> +to restore the gloss. Thus,</q> and suiting the action to +the word he took off his hat, drew his coat-sleeve across +it, and with a genial smile at the old gentleman, replaced +it on his head.</p> + +<p>But his neighbour was evidently of that truculent disposition +which merely growls at blandishments. He +snorted and replied testily, <q>That is all very well, sir, but +I don’t believe a word of it.</q></p> + +<p><q>If you prefer it, then, I fell off the telegraph wires in +an attempt to recover my boots.</q></p> + +<p>The old gentleman became purple in the face.</p> + +<p><q>Have a care, sir! I am a director of this company, +and at the next station I shall see that you give a proper +account of yourself. And here we are, sir. I trust you +have a more credible story in readiness.</q></p> + +<p>As he spoke they drew up beside an underground +platform, and the irascible old gentleman, with a very +threatening face that was not yet quite cleared of alarm, +bustled out in a prodigious hurry. Mr Bunker lay back +in his seat and replied with a smile, <q>I shall be delighted +to tell any story within the bounds of strict propriety.</q></p> + +<p>But the moment he saw the irate director disappear +in the crowd he whipped out too, and with the least +possible delay transferred himself into a third-class +carriage.</p> + +<p>From his seat near the window he watched the old +gentleman hurry back with three officials at his heels, +and hastily search each first-class compartment in turn. +The last one was so near him that he could hear his friend +say, <q>Damn it, the rascal has bolted in the crowd!</q> +<pb n="120"/><anchor id="Pg120"/> +And with that the four of them rushed off to the barrier +to intercept or pursue this suspicious character. Then +the whistle blew, and as the train moved off Mr Bunker +remarked complacently, if a little mysteriously, to himself, +<q>Well, whoever I am, it would seem I’m rather +difficult to catch.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0209" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER IX.</hi> +</head> + +<p>Mr Bunker arrived at the Hôtel Mayonaise in what, +from his appearance, was an unusually reflective state of +mind for him. The other visitors, many of whom had +begun to regard him and his noble friend with great +interest, saw him pass through the crowd in the hall +and about the lifts with a thoughtful air. He went +straight to the Baron’s room. Outside the door he +paused for an instant to set his face in a cheerful smile, +and then burst gaily in upon his friend.</p> + +<p><q>Well, my dear Baron!</q> he cried, <q>what luck in the +Park?</q></p> + +<p>The Baron was pulling his moustache over an English +novel. He laid down his book and frowned at Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>I do not onderstand your English vays,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker perceived that something was very much +amiss, nor was he without a suspicion of the cause. He +laughed, however, and asked, <q>What’s the matter, old +man?</q></p> + +<p><q>I vent to ze Park,</q> said the Baron, with a solemn +deliberation that evidently came hardly to him. <q>I +<pb n="121"/><anchor id="Pg121"/> +entered ze Park. I vas dressed, as you know, viz taste +and appropriety. I vas sober, as you know. I valked +under ze trees, and I looked agreeably at ze people. +Goddam!</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron!</q> expostulated Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p>The Baron resumed his intense composure with a +great effort.</p> + +<p><q>Not long vas ven I see ze Lady Hilton drive past mit +ze ozzer Lady Hilton and vun old lady. I raise my +hat—no bow from zem. <q>Pairhaps,</q> I zink, <q>zey see me +not.</q> Zey stop by ze side to speak viz a gentleman. I +gomed up and again I raise my hat and I say, <q>How do +you do, Lady Hilton? I hope you are regovered from +ze dance.</q> Zat was gorrect, vas it not?</q></p> + +<p><q>Perfectly,</q> replied Mr Bunker, with great gravity.</p> + +<p><q>Zen vy did ze Lady Hilton schream and ze ozzer +Lady Hilton cry, <q>Ach, zat German man!</q> And vy did +ze old lady schream to ze gentleman, <q>Send him avay! +How dare you? Insolence!</q> and suchlike vords?</q></p> + +<p><q>What remarkable conduct, my dear Baron!</q> said +Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>Remargable!</q> roared the justly incensed Baron. +<q>Is it not more zan <hi +rend="font-style: italic">remargable?</hi> Donner und blitzen! +Mon Dieu! Blood! I know not ze English vord so bad +enoff for soch conduct.</q></p> + +<p><q>It must have been a joke,</q> his friend suggested, +soothingly.</p> + +<p><q>Vun dashed bad joke, zen! Ze gentleman said to +me, <q>Get out of zis, you rasgal!</q> <q>Vat mean you, sare?</q> +say I. <q>You know quite vell,</q> said he. <q>Glear out!</q> +<pb n="122"/><anchor id="Pg122"/> +So I gave him my card and tell him I would be glad to +see his frient zat he should send, for zat I vas not used +to be called zo. Zen I raise my hat to ze Lady Hilton +and say, <q>Adieu, madame, I know now ze English lady,</q> +and I valk on. Himmel!</q></p> + +<p><q>What a very extraordinary affair, Baron!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron grunted with inarticulate indignation and +nearly pulled his moustache out by the roots. Abruptly +he broke out again, <q>English ladies? I do not believe +zey are ladies! Never haf I been treated zo! Vat do +you mean, Bonker, by taking me among soch peoples?</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi>, my dear Baron? +It was not I who introduced +you to the Hiltons. I never saw them before.</q></p> + +<p>The difficulty of attaching any blame to his friend +seemed to have anything but a soothing effect on the +Baron. You could almost fancy that you heard his tail +lash the floor.</p> + +<p><q>Zat vas not all,</q> he continued, after a short struggle +with his wrath. <q>I valked on, and soon I see two of ze +frients I made last night at supper.</q></p> + +<p><q>Which two?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze yong man zat spoke to you ven you rise from ze +table, and vun of ze ladies. Again I raise my hat and +say, <q>How do you do? I hope zat you are regovered +from ze dance.</q> Zat is gorrect, you say?</q></p> + +<p><q>Under most circumstances.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze man stared at me, and ze voman—I vill not say +lady—says to him zo zat I can hear, <q>Zat awful German!</q> +Ze man says, <q>Zo it is,</q> and laughed. <q>I haf ze pleasure +of meeting you last night at ze Lady Tollyvoddle,</q> I said. +<pb n="123"/><anchor id="Pg123"/> +<q>I remember,</q> he said; <q>but I haf no vish to meet you +again.</q> I take out my card to gif him, but he only said, +<q>Go avay, or I vill call ze police!</q> <q>Ze police! To me, +Baron von Blitzenberg! Teufel!</q> I replied.</q></p> + +<p><q>And that was all, Baron?</q> asked Mr Bunker, in +what seemed rather like a tone of relief.</p> + +<p><q>No; suddenly he did turn back and said, <q>By ze vay, +who vas zat viz you last night?</q> To vich I replied, +<q>If you address me again, my man, I vill call ze police. +Go avay!</q></q></p> + +<p><q>Bravo, Baron! Ha, ha, ha! Excellent!</q> laughed +Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p>This applause served to reinstate the Baron a little in +his own good opinion. He laughed too, though rather +noisily than heartily, and suddenly became grave again.</p> + +<p><q>Vat means zis, Bonker? Vat haf I done? Vy +should zey treat me zo?</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, you see, my dear Baron,</q> his friend explained, +<q>I ought to have warned you that it is not usual in England +to address ladies you have met at a dance without +some direct invitation on their part. At the same time, +it is evident that the Hiltons and the other man, who of +course must be connected with the Foreign Office, are +aware of some sudden strain in the diplomatic relations +between England and Germany, which as yet is unknown +to the public. Your ancient name and your high rank +have naturally led them to conclude that you are an agent +of the German Government, and an international significance +was of course attached to your presence in the +Park. I certainly think they took a most outrageous +<pb n="124"/><anchor id="Pg124"/> +advantage of a trifling detail of etiquette to repulse you; +but then you must remember, Baron, that their families +might have been seriously compromised with the Government +if they had been seen with so prominent a member +of the German aristocracy in the middle of Hyde Park.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zo?</q> said the Baron, thoughtfully. <q>I begin to +onderstand. My name, as you say, is cairtainly distinguished. +Bot zen should I remain in London?</q></p> + +<p><q>Just what I was wondering, Baron. What do you +say to a trip down to St Egbert’s-on-Sea? It’s a very +select watering-place, and we might spend a week or two +there very pleasantly.</q></p> + +<p><q>Egxellent!</q> said the Baron; <q>ven shall we start?</q></p> + +<p><q>To-morrow morning.</q></p> + +<p><q>Goot! zo let it be. I am tired of London and of ze +English ladies’ manners. Police to ze Baron von Blitzenberg! +Ve shall go to St Egbert’s, Bonker!</q></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div rend="page-break-before: always" id="LL0300" type="part"> +<pb n="125"/><anchor id="Pg125"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">PART III.</hi> +</head> + +<div id="LL0301" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER I.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron and Mr Bunker walked arm-in-arm +along the esplanade at St Egbert’s-on-Sea.</p> + +<p><q>Aha!</q> said the Baron, <q>zis is more fresh zan +London!</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes,</q> replied his friend; <q>we are now in the presence +of that stimulating element which provides patriotic Britons +with music-hall songs, and dyspeptic Britons with an +appetite.</q></p> + +<p>A stirring breeze swept down the long white esplanade, +threatening hats and troubling skirts; the pale-green +south-coast sea rumbled up the shingle; the day was +bright and pleasant for the time of year, and drove the +Baron’s mischances from his head; altogether it seemed +to Mr Bunker that the omens were good. They were +both dressed in the smartest of tweed suits, and walked +jauntily, like men who knew their own value. Every +now and then, as they passed a pretty face, the Baron +would say, <q>Aha, Bonker! zat is not so bad, eh?</q></p> + +<p>And Mr Bunker, who seemed not unwilling that his +friend should find some entertaining distraction in St +Egbert’s, would look at the owners of these faces with a +prospector’s eye and his own unrivalled assurance.</p> +<pb n="126"/><anchor id="Pg126"/> + +<p>They had walked up and down three or four times, +when a desire for a different species of diversion began +to overtake the Baron. It was the one kind of desire +that the Baron never even tried to wrestle with.</p> + +<p><q>My vriend Bonker,</q> said he, <q>is it not somevere +about time for loncheon, eh?</q></p> + +<p><q>I should say it was precisely the hour.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha! zen, let us gom and eat. Himmel, zis sea +is ze fellow to make von hungry!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron had taken a private suite of rooms on the +first floor of the best hotel in St Egbert’s, and after a +very substantial lunch Mr Bunker stretched himself on +the luxurious sitting-room sofa and announced his intention +of having a nap.</p> + +<p><q>I shall go out,</q> said the Baron. <q>You vill not gom?</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall leave you to make a single-handed conquest,</q> +replied Mr Bunker. <q>Besides, I have a little matter I +want to look into.</q></p> + +<p>So the Baron arranged his hat airily, at what he had +perceived to be the most fashionable and effective English +angle, and strutted off to the esplanade.</p> + +<p>It was about two hours later that he burst excitedly +into the room, crying, <q>Aha, mine Bonker! I haf disgovered +zomzing!</q> and then he stopped in some surprise. +<q>Ello, vat make you, my vriend?</q></p> + +<p>His friend, in fact, seemed to be somewhat singularly +employed. Through a dense cloud of tobacco-smoke you +could just pick him out of the depths of an armchair, +his feet resting on the mantelpiece, while his lap and all +the floor round about were covered with immense books. +<pb n="127"/><anchor id="Pg127"/> +The Baron’s curiosity was still further excited by observing +that they consisted principally of a London and a +St Egbert’s directory, several volumes of a Dictionary +of National Biography, and one or two peerages and +county family compilations.</p> + +<p>He looked up with a smile. <q>You may well wonder, +my dear Baron. The fact is, I am looking for a name.</q></p> + +<p><q>A name! vat name?</q></p> + +<p><q>Alas! if I knew what it was I should stop looking, +and I confess I’m rather sick of the job.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vich vay do you look, zen?</q></p> + +<p><q>Simply by wading my way through all the lists of +names I could steal or borrow. It’s devilish dry work.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze name of a vriend, is it?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes; but I’m afraid I must wait till it comes. And +what is this discovery, Baron? A petticoat, I presume. +After all, they are the only things worth finding,</q> and he +shut the books one after another.</p> + +<p><q>A petticoat with ze fairest girl inside it!</q> exclaimed +the Baron, rapturously.</p> + +<p><q>Your eyes seem to have been singularly penetrating, +Baron. Was she dark or fair, tall or short, fat or slender, +widow, wife, or maid?</q></p> + +<p><q>Fair, viz blue eyes, short pairhaps but not too short, +slender as a—a—drom-stick, and I vould say a maid; at +least I see vun stout old lady mit her, mozzer and daughter +I soppose.</q></p> + +<p><q>And did this piece of perfection seem to appreciate +you?</q></p> + +<p><q>Vy should I know? Zey are ze real ladies and pairtend +<pb n="128"/><anchor id="Pg128"/> +not to see me, bot I zink zey notice me all ze same. +Not <q>lady vriends,</q> Bonker, ha, ha, ha!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker laughed with reminiscent amusement, +and inquired, <q>And how did the romance end—in a cab, +Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> laughed the Baron; <q>better zan zat, +Bonker—moch better!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p><q>It’s hardly the time of year for a romance to end in +a bathing-machine. You followed the divinity to her +rented heaven, perhaps?</q></p> + +<p>The Baron bent forward and answered in a stage +whisper, <q>Zey live in zis hotel, Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>Then I can only wish you joy, Baron, and if my +funds allow me, send her a wedding present.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, not quite so fast, my vriend! I am not caught +so easy.</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear fellow, a week at close quarters is sufficient +to net any man.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ven I marry,</q> replied the Baron, <q>moch most be considered. +A von Blitzenberg does not mate viz every vun.</q></p> + +<p><q>A good many families have made the same remark, +but one does not always meet the fathers-in-law.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha! ve shall see. Bot, Bonker, she is lofly!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron awaited dinner with even more than his +usual ardour. He dressed with the greatest care, and +at an absurdly early hour was already urging his friend +to come down and take their places. Indeed after a time +there was no withholding him, and they finally took their +seats in the dining-room before anybody else.</p> +<pb n="129"/><anchor id="Pg129"/> + +<p>At what seemed to the impatient Baron unconscionably +long intervals a few people dropped in and began to +study their menus and glance with an air of uncomfortable +suspicion at their neighbours.</p> + +<p><q>I vonder vill she gom,</q> he said three or four times at +least.</p> + +<p><q>Console yourself, my dear Baron,</q> his friend would +reply; <q>they always come. That’s seldom the difficulty.</q></p> + +<p>And the Baron would dally with his victuals in the +most unwonted fashion, and growl at the rapidity with +which the courses followed one another.</p> + +<p><q>Do zey suppose ve vish to eat like&qdash;?</q> he began, +and then laying his hand on his friend’s sleeve, he whispered, +<q>She goms!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker turned his head just in time to see in the +doorway the Countess of Grillyer and the Lady Alicia à +Fyre.</p> + +<p><q>Is she not fair?</q> asked the Baron, excitedly.</p> + +<p><q>I entirely approve of your taste, Baron. I have only +once seen any one quite like her before.</q></p> + +<p>With a gratified smile the Baron filled his glass, while +his friend seemed amused by some humorous reflection +of his own.</p> + +<p>The Lady Alicia and her mother had taken their seats +at a table a little way off, and at first their eyes never +happened to turn in the direction of the two friends. +But at last, after looking at the ceiling, the carpet, the +walls, the other people, everything else in the room it +seemed, Lady Alicia’s glance fell for an instant on the +Baron. That nobleman looked as interesting as a +<pb n="130"/><anchor id="Pg130"/> +mouthful of roast duck would permit him, but the glance +passed serenely on to Mr Bunker. For a moment it +remained serene; suddenly it became startled and puzzled, +and at that instant Mr Bunker turned his own eyes full +upon her, smiled slightly, and raised his glass to his +lips.</p> + +<p>The glance fell, and the Lady Alicia blushed down to +the diamonds in her necklace.</p> + +<p>The Baron insisted on lingering over his dinner till +the charmer was finished, and so by a fortuitous coincidence +they left the room immediately behind the Countess. +The Baron passed them in the passage, and a few +yards farther he looked round for his friend, and the +Countess turned to look for her daughter.</p> + +<p>They saw Lady Alicia following with an intensely +unconscious expression, while Mr Bunker was in the act +of returning to the dining-room.</p> + +<p><q>I wanted to secure a table for breakfast,</q> he explained.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0302" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER II.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron was in high hopes of seeing the fair unknown +at breakfast, but it seemed she must be either +breakfasting in her own room or lying long abed.</p> + +<p><q>I think I shall go out for a little constitutional,</q> said +Mr Bunker, when he had finished. <q>I suppose the hotel +has a stronger attraction for you.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, yes, I shall remain,</q> his friend replied. <q>Pairhaps +I may see zem.</q></p> +<pb n="131"/><anchor id="Pg131"/> + +<p><q>Take care then, Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall not propose till you return, Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>No,</q> said Mr Bunker to himself, <q>I don’t think +you will.</q></p> + +<p>Just outside St Egbert’s there is a high breezy sweep +of downs, falling suddenly to a chalky seaward cliff. It +overlooks the town and the undulating inland country +and a great spread of shining sea; and even without a +spy-glass you can see sail after sail and smoke-wreath +after smoke-wreath go by all day long.</p> + +<p>But Mr Bunker had apparently walked there for other +reasons than to see the view. He did stop once or twice, +but it was only to scan the downs ahead, and at the sight +of a fluttering skirt he showed no interest in anything +else, but made a straight line for its owner. For her part, +the lady seemed to await his coming. She gathered her +countenance into an expression of as perfect unconcern +as a little heightening of her colour would allow her, and +returned his salute with rather a distant bow. But Mr +Bunker was not to be damped by this hint of barbed wire. +He held out his hand and exclaimed cordially, <q>My dear +Lady Alicia! this is charming of you!</q></p> + +<p><q>Of course you understand, Mr Beveridge, it’s only&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Perfectly,</q> he interrupted, gaily; <q>I understand +everything I should and nothing I shouldn’t. In fact, I +have altered little, except in the trifling matter of a beard, +a moustache or two, and, by the way, a name.</q></p> + +<p><q>A name?</q></p> + +<p><q>I am now Francis Bunker, but as much at your +service as ever.</q></p> +<pb n="132"/><anchor id="Pg132"/> + +<p><q>But why—I mean, have you really changed your +name?</q></p> + +<p><q>Circumstances have changed it, just as circumstances +shaved me.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia made a great endeavour to look haughty. +<q>I do not quite understand, Mr&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Bunker—a temporary title, but suggestive, and simple +for the tradesmen.</q></p> + +<p><q>I do not understand your conduct. Why have you +changed your name?</q></p> + +<p><q>Why not?</q></p> + +<p>This retort was so evidently unanswerable that Lady +Alicia changed her inquiry.</p> + +<p><q>Where have you been?</q></p> + +<p><q>Till yesterday, in London.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then you didn’t go to your own parish?</q> she demanded, +reproachfully.</p> + +<p><q>There were difficulties,</q> he replied; <q>in fact, a certified +lunatic is not in great demand as a parish priest. They +seem to prefer them uncertified.</q></p> + +<p><q>But didn’t you try?</q></p> + +<p><q>Hard, but it was no use. The bishop was out of +town, and I had to wait till his return; besides, my position +was somewhat insecure. I have had at least two +remarkable escapes since I saw you last.</q></p> + +<p><q>Are you safe here?</q> she asked, hurriedly.</p> + +<p><q>With your consent, yes.</q></p> + +<p>She looked a little troubled. <q>I don’t know that I am +doing right, Mr Bev—Bunker, but&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Thank you, my friend,</q> he interrupted, tenderly.</p> +<pb n="133"/><anchor id="Pg133"/> + +<p><q>Don’t,</q> she began, hastily. <q>You mustn’t talk +like&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Francis Beveridge?</q> he interrupted. <q>The trouble +is, this rascal Bunker bears an unconscionably awkward +resemblance to our old friend.</q></p> + +<p><q>You must see that it is quite—ridiculous.</q></p> + +<p><q>Absurd,</q> he agreed,—<q>perfectly preposterous. I +laugh whenever I think of it!</q></p> + +<p>Poor Lady Alicia felt like a man at a telephone who +has been connected with the wrong person. Again she +made a desperate shift to fall back on a becoming pride.</p> + +<p><q>What do you mean?</q> she demanded.</p> + +<p><q>If I mean anything at all, which is always rather +doubtful,</q> he replied, candidly, <q>I mean that Beveridge +and his humbug were creatures of an occasion, just as +Bunker and his are of another. The one occasion is +passed, and with it the first entertaining gentleman has +vanished into space. The second gentleman will doubtless +follow when his time is up. In fact, I may be said +to be a series of dissolving views.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then isn’t what you said true?</q></p> + +<p><q>I’m afraid you must be more specific; you see I’ve +talked so much.</q></p> + +<p><q>What you said about yourself—and your work.</q></p> + +<p>He shook his head humorously. <q>I have no means of +checking my statements.</q></p> + +<p>She looked at him in a troubled way, and then her +eyes fell.</p> + +<p><q>At least,</q> she said, <q>you won’t—you +mustn’t treat me as—as you did.</q></p> +<pb n="134"/><anchor id="Pg134"/> + +<p><q>As Beveridge did? Certainly not; Bunker is the +soul of circumspection. Besides, he doesn’t require to +get out of an asylum.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then it was only to get away?</q> she cried, turning +scarlet.</p> + +<p><q>Let us call it so,</q> he replied, looking pensively out to +sea.</p> + +<p>It seemed wiser to Lady Alicia to change the subject.</p> + +<p><q>Who is the friend you are staying with?</q> she asked, +suddenly.</p> + +<p><q>My old friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg, +and your own most recent admirer,</q> he replied. <q>I am +at present living with, in fact I may say upon, him.</q></p> + +<p><q>Does he know?</q></p> + +<p><q>If you meet him, you had perhaps better not inquire +into my past history.</q></p> + +<p><q>I meant, does he know about—about your knowing +me?</q></p> + +<p><q>Bless them!</q> thought Mr Bunker; <q>one forgets they’re +not <hi rend="font-style: italic">always</hi> thinking about us!</q></p> + +<p><q>My noble friend has no idea that I have been so +fortunate,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia looked relieved. <q>Who is he?</q> she +asked.</p> + +<p><q>A German nobleman of great wealth, long descent, +and the most accommodating disposition. He is at +present exploring England under my guidance, and I +flatter myself that he has already seen and done a number +of things that are not on most programmes.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia was silent for a minute. Then she said +<pb n="135"/><anchor id="Pg135"/> +with a little hesitation, <q>Didn’t you get a letter from +me?</q></p> + +<p><q>A letter? No,</q> he replied, in some surprise.</p> + +<p><q>I wrote twice—because you asked me to, and I +thought—I wondered if you were safe.</q></p> + +<p><q>To what address did you write?</q></p> + +<p><q>The address you gave me.</q></p> + +<p><q>And what was that?</q> he asked, still evidently puzzled.</p> + +<p><q>You said care of the Archbishop of York would find +you.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker abruptly looked the other way.</p> + +<p><q>By Jove!</q> he said, as if lost in speculation, <q>I must +find out what the matter was. I can’t imagine why they +haven’t been forwarded.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia appeared a little dissatisfied.</p> + +<p><q>Was that +a <hi rend="font-style: italic">real</hi> address?</q> she +asked, suddenly.</p> + +<p><q>Perfectly,</q> he replied; <q>as real as Pentonville Jail or +the House of Commons.</q> (<q>And as likely to find me,</q> +he added to himself.)</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia seemed to hesitate whether to pursue the +subject further, but in the middle of her debate Mr Bunker +asked, <q>By the way, has Lady Grillyer any recollection +of having seen me before?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, she doesn’t remember you at all.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then we shall meet as strangers?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes, I think it would be better; don’t you?</q></p> + +<p><q>It will save our imaginations certainly.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia looked at him as though she expected +something more; but as nothing came, she said, <q>I think +it’s time I went back.</q></p> +<pb n="136"/><anchor id="Pg136"/> + +<p><q>For the present then <hi rend="font-style: italic">au +revoir</hi>, my dear Alicia. I +beg your pardon, Lady Alicia; it was that rascal Beveridge +who made the slip. It now remains to make your +formal acquaintance.</q></p> + +<p><q>You—you mustn’t try!</q></p> + +<p><q>The deuce is in these people beginning with B!</q> +he laughed. <q>They seem to do things without trying.</q></p> + +<p>He pressed her hand, raised his hat, and started back +to the town. She, on her part, lingered to let him get a +clear start of her, and her blue eyes looked as though a +breeze had blown across and ruffled them.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker had reached the esplanade, and was +sauntering easily back towards the hotel, looking at the +people and smiling now and then to himself, when he +observed with considerable astonishment two familiar figures +strolling towards him. They were none other than +the Baron and the Countess, engaged in animated conversation, +and apparently on the very best terms with each +other. At the sight of him the Baron beamed joyfully.</p> + +<p><q>Aha, Bonker, so you haf returned!</q> he cried. <q>In +ze meanvile I haf had vun great good fortune. Let me +present my friend Mr Bonker, ze Lady Grillyer.</q></p> + +<p>The Countess bowed most graciously, and raising a +pair of tortoise-shell-rimmed eye-glasses mounted on a +stem of the same material, looked at Mr Bunker through +these with a by no means disapproving glance.</p> + +<p>At first sight it was evident that Lady Alicia must +<q>take after</q> her noble father. The Countess was +aquiline of nose, large of person, and emphatic in her +voice and manner.</p> +<pb n="137"/><anchor id="Pg137"/> + +<p><q>You are the <q>showman,</q> Mr Bunker, are you not?</q> +she said, with a smile for which many of her acquaintances +would have given a tolerable percentage of their +incomes.</p> + +<p><q>It seems,</q> replied Mr Bunker, smiling back agreeably, +<q>that the Baron is now the showman, and I must +congratulate him on his first venture.</q></p> + +<p>For an instant the Countess seemed a trifle taken aback. +It was a considerable number of years since she had +been addressed in precisely this strain, and in fact at +no time had her admirers ventured quite so dashingly to +the attack. But there was something entirely irresistible +in Mr Bunker’s manner, partly perhaps because he never +made the mistake of heeding a first rebuff. The Countess +coughed, then smiled a little again, and said to the Baron, +<q>You didn’t tell me that your showman supplied the +little speeches as well.</q></p> + +<p><q>I could not know it; zere has not before been ze reason +for a pretty speech,</q> responded the Baron, gallantly.</p> + +<p>If Lady Grillyer had been anybody else, one would +have said that she actually giggled. Certainly a little +wave of scandalised satisfaction rippled all over her.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, really!</q> she cried, <q>I don’t know which of you +is the worst offender.</q></p> + +<p>All this time, as may be imagined, Mr Bunker had +been in a state of high mystification at his friend’s unusual +adroitness.</p> + +<p><q>How the deuce did he get hold of her?</q> he said to +himself.</p> + +<p>In the next pause the Baron solved the riddle.</p> +<pb n="138"/><anchor id="Pg138"/> + +<p><q>You vil vunder, Bonker,</q> he said, <q>how I did gom to +know ze Lady Grillyer.</q></p> + +<p><q>I envied, certainly,</q> replied his friend, with a side +glance at the now purring Countess.</p> + +<p><q>She vas of my introdogtions, bot till after you vent +out zis morning I did not lairn her name. Zen I said to +myself, <q>Ze sun shines, Himmel is kind! Here now is ze +fair Lady Grillyer—my introdogtion!</q> and zo zat is how, +you see.</q></p> + +<p><q>To think of the Baron being here and our only finding +each other out by chance!</q> said the Countess.</p> + +<p><q>By a fortunate providence for me!</q> exclaimed the +Baron, fervently.</p> + +<p><q>Baron,</q> said the Countess, trying hard to look severe, +<q>you must really keep some of these nice speeches for +my daughter. Which reminds me, I wonder where she +can be?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, here she goms!</q> cried the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>Why, how did you know her?</q> asked the Countess.</p> + +<p><q>I—I did see her last night at dinnair,</q> explained the +Baron, turning red.</p> + +<p><q>Ah, of course, I remember,</q> replied the Countess, +in a matter-of-fact tone; but her motherly eye was sharp, +and already it began to look on the highly eligible Rudolph +with more approval than ever.</p> + +<p><q>My daughter Alicia, the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg, +Mr Bunker,</q> she said the next moment.</p> + +<p>The Baron went nearly double as he bowed, and the +flourish of his hat stirred the dust on the esplanade. Mr +Bunker’s salutation was less profound, but his face expressed +<pb n="139"/><anchor id="Pg139"/> +an almost equal degree of interested respect. +Her mother thought that when one of the gentlemen was +a nobleman with an indefinite number of thousands +a-year and the other a person of so much discrimination, +Lady Alicia’s own bow might have been a trifle less +reserved. But then even the most astute mother cannot +know the reasons for everything.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0303" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER III.</hi> +</head> + +<p><q>Alicia,</q> said the Countess, <q>it was really a most +fortunate coincidence our meeting the Baron at St Egbert’s.</q></p> + +<p>She paused for a reply and looked expectantly at her +daughter. It was not the first time in the course of the +morning that Lady Alicia had listened to similar observations, +and perhaps that was why she answered somewhat +listlessly, <q>Yes, wasn’t it?</q></p> + +<p>The Countess frowned, and continued with emphasis, +<q>I consider him one of the most agreeable and best +informed young men I have ever met.</q></p> + +<p><q>Is he?</q> said Lady Alicia, absently.</p> + +<p><q>I wonder, Alicia, you hadn’t noticed it,</q> her mother +observed, severely; <q>you talked with him most of the +afternoon. I should have thought that no observant, +well-bred girl would have failed to have been struck with +his air and conversation.</q></p> + +<p><q>I—I thought him very pleasant, mamma.</q></p> +<pb n="140"/><anchor id="Pg140"/> + +<p><q>I am glad you had so much sense. He +is <hi rend="font-style: italic">extremely</hi> +pleasant.</q></p> + +<p>As Lady Alicia made no reply, the Countess felt obliged +to continue his list of virtues herself.</p> + +<p><q>He is of most excellent family, Alicia, one of the +oldest in Bavaria. I don’t remember what I heard his +income was in pfennigs, or whatever they measure money +by in Germany, but I know that it is more than £20,000 +a-year in English money. A very large sum nowadays,</q> +she added, as if £20,000 had grown since she was a +girl.</p> + +<p><q>Yes, mamma.</q></p> + +<p><q>He is considered, besides, an unusually promising +and intelligent young nobleman, and in Germany, where +noblemen are still constantly used, that says a great deal +for him.</q></p> + +<p><q>Does it, mamma?</q></p> + +<p><q>Certainly it does. Education there is so severe that +young Englishmen are beginning to know less than they +ever did, and in most cases that isn’t saying much. Compare +the Baron with the young men you meet here!</q></p> + +<p>She looked at her daughter triumphantly, and Alicia +could only reply, <q>Yes, mamma?</q></p> + +<p><q>Compare them and see the difference. Look at the +Baron’s friend, Mr Bunker, who is a very agreeable and +amusing man, I admit, but look at the difference!</q></p> + +<p><q>What is it?</q> Alicia could not help asking.</p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">What</hi> is it, Alicia! +It is—ah—it’s—er—it is, in +short, the effect of a carefully cultivated mind and good +blood.</q></p> +<pb n="141"/><anchor id="Pg141"/> + +<p><q>But don’t you think Mr Bunker cultivated, +mamma—and—and—well-bred?</q></p> + +<p><q>He has an amusing way of saying things,—but then +you must remember that the Baron is doubtless equally +entertaining in his native language,—and possibly a +superficial knowledge of a few of the leading questions +of the day; but the Baron talked to me for half an hour +on the relations of something or other in Germany +to—er—something else—a very important point, +I assure you.</q></p> + +<p><q>I always thought him very clever,</q> said Lady Alicia +with a touch of warmth, and then instantly changed +colour at the horrible slip.</p> + +<p><q>You always,</q> said the Countess in alarmed astonishment; +<q>you hardly spoke to him yesterday, and—had +you met him before?</q></p> + +<p><q>I—I meant the Baron, mamma.</q></p> + +<p><q>But I have just been saying that he +was <hi rend="font-style: italic">unusually</hi> +clever.</q></p> + +<p><q>But I thought, I mean it seemed as though you considered +him only well informed.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia’s blushes and confusion deepened. Her +mother looked at her with a softening eye. Suddenly +she rose, kissed her affectionately, and said with the tenderness +of triumph, <q>My <hi rend="font-style: italic">dear</hi> girl! +Of course he is; clever, well informed, and a +most <hi rend="font-style: italic">desirable</hi> young man. +My Alicia could not do&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>She stopped, as if she thought this was perhaps a little +premature (though the Countess’s methods inclined to +the summary and decisive), and again kissing her daughter +<pb n="142"/><anchor id="Pg142"/> +affectionately, remarked gaily, <q>Let me see, why, it’s +almost time we went for our little walk! We mustn’t +really disappoint those young men. I am in the middle +of such an amusing discussion with Mr Bunker, who is +really a very sensible man and quite worthy of the Baron’s +judgment.</q></p> + +<p>Poor Lady Alicia hardly knew whether to feel more +relieved at her escape or dismayed at the construction put +upon her explanation. She went out to meet the Baron, +determined to give no further colour to her mother’s +unlucky misconception. The Countess was far too experienced +and determined a general to leave it at all +doubtful who should walk by whose side, and who should +have the opportunity of appreciating whose merits, but +Lady Alicia was quite resolved that the Baron’s blandishments +should fall on stony ground.</p> + +<p>But a soft heart and an undecided mouth are treacherous +companions. The Baron was so amiable and so +gallant, that at the end of half an hour she was obliged +to abate the strictness of her resolution. She should +treat him with the friendliness of a brother. She learned +that he had no sisters: her decision was confirmed.</p> + +<p>The enamoured and delighted Baron was in the seventh +heaven of happy loquacity. He poured out particulars +of his travels, his more recordable adventures, his opinions +on various social and political matters, and at last even +of the family ghost, the hereditary carpet-beatership, +and the glories of Bavaria. And Lady Alicia listened +with what he could not doubt was an interest touched +with tenderness.</p> +<pb n="143"/><anchor id="Pg143"/> + +<p><q>I wonder,</q> she said, artlessly, <q>that you find anything +to admire in England—compared with Bavaria, +I mean.</q></p> + +<p><q>Two zings I haf not zere,</q> replied the Baron, waving +his hand round towards the horizon. <q>Vun is ze vet +sheet of flowing sea—says not your poet so? Ze ozzer</q> +(laying his hand on his heart) <q>is ze Lady Alicia à Fyre.</q></p> + +<p>There are some people who catch sentiment whenever +it happens to be in the air, just as others almost equally +unfortunate regularly take hay-fever.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia’s reply was much softer than she intended, +especially as she could have told anybody that the Baron’s +compliment was the merest figure of speech.</p> + +<p><q>You needn’t have included me: I’m +sure <hi rend="font-style: italic">I’m</hi> not a +great attraction.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze sea is less, so zat leaves none,</q> the Baron smiled.</p> + +<p><q>Didn’t you see anybody—I mean, anything in London +that attracted you—that you liked?</q></p> + +<p><q>Zat I liked, yes, zat pairhaps for the moment attracted +me; but not zat shall still attract me ven I am +gone avay.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron sighed this time, and she felt impelled to +reply, with the most sisterly kindness, <q>I—we should, +of course, like to think that you didn’t forget +us <hi rend="font-style: italic">altogether</hi>.</q></p> + +<p><q>You need not fear.</q></p> + +<p>Then Lady Alicia began to realise that this was more +like a second cousin than a brother, and with sudden +sprightliness she cried, <q>I wonder where that steamer’s +going!</q></p> +<pb n="144"/><anchor id="Pg144"/> + +<p>The Baron turned his eyes towards his first-named +attraction, but for a professed lover of the ocean his +interest appeared slight. He only replied absently, +<q>Ach, zo?</q></p> + +<p>A little way behind them walked Mr Bunker and the +Countess. The attention of Lady Grillyer was divided +between the agreeable conversation of her companion +and the pleasant spectacle of a fabulous number of +pfennigs a-year bending its titled head over her daughter. +In the middle of one of Mr Bunker’s most amusing +stories she could not forbear interrupting with a complacent +<q>they <hi rend="font-style: italic">do</hi> make a very +handsome couple!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker politely stopped his narrative, and looked +critically from his friend’s gaily checked back to Lady +Alicia’s trim figure.</p> + +<p><q>Pray go on with your story, Mr Bunker,</q> said the +Countess, hastily, realising that she had thought a little +too loudly.</p> + +<p><q>They are like,</q> responded Mr Bunker, replying to +her first remark—<q>they are like a pair of gloves.</q></p> + +<p>The Countess raised her brows and looked at him +sharply.</p> + +<p><q>I mean, of course, the best quality.</q></p> + +<p><q>I think,</q> said the Countess, suspiciously, <q>that you +spoke a little carelessly.</q></p> + +<p><q>My simile was a little premature?</q></p> + +<p><q>I think so,</q> said the Countess, decisively.</p> + +<p><q>Let us call them then an odd pair,</q> smiled Mr Bunker, +unruffled; <q>and only hope that they’ll turn out to be the +same size and different hands.</q></p> +<pb n="145"/><anchor id="Pg145"/> + +<p>The Countess actually condescended to smile back.</p> + +<p><q>She is a <hi rend="font-style: italic">dear</hi> +child,</q> she murmured.</p> + +<p><q>His income, I think, is sufficient,</q> he answered.</p> + +<p>Humour was not conspicuous in the Grillyer family. +The Countess replied seriously, <q>I am one of those out-of-date +people, Mr Bunker, who consider some things +come before money, but the Baron’s birth and position +are fortunately unimpeachable.</q></p> + +<p><q>While his mental qualities,</q> said Mr Bunker, <q>are, +in my experience, almost unique.</q></p> + +<p>The Countess was confirmed in her opinion of Mr +Bunker’s discrimination.</p> + +<p>Late that night, after they had parted with their friends, +the Baron smoked in the most unwonted silence while +Mr Bunker dozed on the sofa. Several times Rudolph +threw restive glances at his friend, as if he had something +on his mind that he needed a helping hand to unburden +himself of. At last the silence grew so intolerable that +he screwed up his courage and with desperate resolution +exclaimed, <q>Bonker!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker opened his eyes and sat up.</p> + +<p><q>Bonker, I am in loff!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker smiled and stretched himself out again.</p> + +<p><q>I have also been in love,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p><q>You are not now?</q></p> + +<p><q>Alas! no.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vy alas?</q></p> + +<p><q>Because follies <hi rend="font-style: italic">without</hi> +illusions get so infernally dull, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron smiled a little foolishly.</p> +<pb n="146"/><anchor id="Pg146"/> + +<p><q>I haf ze illusions, I fear.</q> Then he broke out +enthusiastically, <q>Ach, bot is she not lofly, Bonker? +If she will bot lof me back I shall be ze happiest man +out of heaven!</q></p> + +<p><q>You have wasted no time, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron shook his head in melancholy pleasure.</p> + +<p><q>You are quite sure it is really love this time?</q> his +friend pursued.</p> + +<p><q>Qvite!</q> said the Baron, with the firmness of a martyr.</p> + +<p><q>There are so many imitations.</q></p> + +<p><q>Not so close zat zey can deceive!</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> laughed Mr Bunker. <q>These first +symptoms are common to them all, and yet the varieties +of the disease are almost beyond counting. I myself +have suffered from it in eight different forms. There +was the virulent, spotted-all-over variety, known as +calf-love; there was the kind that accompanied itself by +a course of the Restoration dramatists; another form I +may call the strayed-Platonic, and that may be subdivided +into at least two; then there was&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Schtop! schtop!</q> cried the Baron. <q>Ha, ha, ha! +Zat will do! Teufel! I most examine my heart strictly. +And yet, Bonker, I zink my loff is anozzer kind—ze +<hi rend="font-style: italic">real!</hi></q></p> + +<p><q>They are all that, Baron; but have it your own way. +Anything I can do to make you worse shall be done.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zanks, my best of friends,</q> said the Baron, warmly, +seizing his hand; <q>I knew you would stand by me!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker gave a little laugh, and returning the pressure, +replied, <q>My dear fellow, I’d do anything to oblige +a friend in such an interesting condition.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0304" type="chapter"> +<pb n="147"/><anchor id="Pg147"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER IV.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron was a few minutes late in joining the party +at lunch, and when he appeared he held an open letter +in his hand. It was only the middle of the next day, +and yet he could have sworn that last night he was comparatively +whole-hearted, he felt so very much more in +love already.</p> + +<p><q>Yet anozzer introdogtion has found me out,</q> he said +as he took his seat. <q>I have here a letter of invitation +vich I do not zink I shall accept.</q></p> + +<p>He threw an amorous glance at Lady Alicia, which +her watchful mother rightly interpreted as indicating +the cause of his intended refusal.</p> + +<p><q>Who is it this time?</q> asked Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>Sir Richard Brierley of Brierley Park, Dampshire. +Is zat how you pronounce it?</q></p> + +<p><q>Sir Richard Brierley!</q> exclaimed the Countess; +<q>why, Alicia and I are going to visit some relatives of +ours who live only six miles from Brierley Park! When +has he asked you, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze end of next week.</q></p> + +<p><q>How odd! We are going down to Dampshire at the +end of next week too. You must accept, Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall!</q> exclaimed the overjoyed Baron. <q>Shall +ve go, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>I’m not asked, I’m afraid.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, bot zat is nozzing. I shall tell him.</q></p> +<pb n="148"/><anchor id="Pg148"/> + +<p><q>As you please, Baron,</q> replied Mr Bunker, with a +half glance at Lady Alicia.</p> + +<p>The infatuated Baron had already begun to dread the +inevitable hour of separation, and this piece of good +fortune put him into the highest spirits. He felt so amiable +towards the whole world that when the four went out +for a stroll in the afternoon he lingered for a minute by +Lady Grillyer’s side, and in that minute Mr Bunker and +Lady Alicia were out of hail ahead. The Baron’s face +fell.</p> + +<p><q>Shall I come down to this place?</q> said Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>Would you like to?</q></p> + +<p><q>I should be sorry,</q> he replied, <q>to part with—the +Baron.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Alicia had expected a slightly different ending +to this sentence, and so, to tell the truth, Mr Bunker had +intended.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, if you can’t stay away from the Baron, you had +better go.</q></p> + +<p><q>It is certainly very hard to tear myself away from so +charming a person as the Baron; perhaps you can feel +for me?</q></p> + +<p><q>I think he is very—nice.</q></p> + +<p><q>He thinks you very nice.</q></p> + +<p><q>Does he?</q> said Lady Alicia, with great indifference, +and a moment later changed the subject.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Baron was growing very uneasy. Of +course it was quite natural that Mr Bunker should find +it pleasant to walk for a few minutes by the side of the +fairest creature on earth, and very possibly he was artfully +<pb n="149"/><anchor id="Pg149"/> +pleading his friend’s cause. Yet the Baron felt uneasy. +He remembered Mr Bunker’s invariable success with +the gentler sex, his wit, his happy smile, and his good +looks; and he began to wish most sincerely that these +fascinations were being exercised on the now somewhat +breathless Countess, for his efforts to overtake the pair +in front had both annoyed and exhausted Lady Grillyer.</p> + +<p><q>Need we walk quite so fast, Baron?</q> she suggested; +and Lady Grillyer’s suggestions were of the kind that are +evidently meant to be acted upon.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, I did forged,</q> said the Baron, absently, and +without further remark he slackened his pace for a few +yards and then was off again.</p> + +<p><q>You were telling me,</q> gasped the Countess, <q>of something +you thought of—doing when—you went—home.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zo? Oh yes, it vas—Teufel! I do not remember.</q></p> + +<p><q>Really, Baron,</q> said the Countess, decidedly, <q>I +cannot go any farther at this rate. Let us turn. The +others will be turning too, in a minute.</q></p> + +<p>In fact the unlucky Baron had clean run Lady Grillyer’s +maternal instincts off their feet, and he suffered +for it by seeing nothing of either his friend or his charmer +for an hour and a half.</p> + +<p>That night he accepted Sir Richard’s invitation, but +said nothing whatever about bringing a friend.</p> + +<p>For the next week Rudolph was in as many states of +mind as there were hours in each day. He walked and +rode and drove with Lady Alicia through the most romantic +spots he could find. He purchased a large assortment +of golf-clubs, and under her tuition essayed to play +<pb n="150"/><anchor id="Pg150"/> +that most dangerous of games for mixed couples. In +turn he broke every club in his set; the cavities he hewed +in the links are still pointed out to the curious; but the +heart of the Lady Alicia alone he seemed unable to +damage. There was always a moment at which his +courage failed him, and in that fatal pause she invariably +changed the subject with the most innocent air in the +world.</p> + +<p>Every now and then the greenest spasms of jealousy +would seize him. Why did she elect to disappear with +Mr Bunker on the very morning that he had resolved +should settle his fate? It is true he had made the same +resolution every morning, but on this particular one +he had no doubt he would have put his fate to the touch. +And why on a certain moonlight evening was he left to +the unsentimental company of the Countess?</p> + +<p>He made no further reference to the visit to Brierley +Park; in fact he shunned discussion of any kind with +his quondam bosom friend.</p> + +<p>The time slipped past, till the visit to St Egbert’s was +almost at an end. On the day after to-morrow all four +were going to leave (where Mr Bunker was going, his +friend never troubled to inquire).</p> + +<p>They sat together latish in the evening in the Baron’s +room. That very afternoon Lady Alicia had spent more +time in Mr Bunker’s society than in his, and the Baron +felt that the hour had come for an explanation.</p> + +<p><q>Bonker, I haf a suspection!</q> he exclaimed, suddenly. +<q>It is not I, bot you, who are ze friend to ze beautiful +Lady Alicia. You are not doing me fair!</q></p> +<pb n="151"/><anchor id="Pg151"/> + +<p><q>My dear Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>It is so: you are not doing me fair,</q> the Baron reiterated.</p> + +<p><q>My dear fellow,</q> replied Mr Bunker, <q>it is you are +so much in love that you have lost your wonted courage. +You don’t use your chances.</q></p> + +<p><q>I do not get zem.</q></p> + +<p><q>Nonsense, Baron! I haven’t spent one hour in Lady +Alicia’s company to your twenty-four, and yet if I’d +been matrimonially inclined I could have proposed twice +over. You’ve had the chance of being accepted fifty +times.</q></p> + +<p><q>I haf not been accepted vunce,</q> said the Baron, +moodily.</p> + +<p><q>Have you put the question?</q></p> + +<p><q>I haf not dared.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, my dear Baron, whose fault is that?</q></p> + +<p>The Baron was silent.</p> + +<p><q>Ask her to-morrow.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, Bonker,</q> said the Baron, sadly; <q>she treats me +not like a lover. She talks of friendship. I do not vish +a frient!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. +<q>You don’t think you have touched her heart?</q> he +asked at length.</p> + +<p><q>I fear not.</q></p> + +<p><q>You must try an infallible recipe for winning a +woman’s heart. You must be in trouble.</q></p> + +<p><q>In trouble!</q></p> + +<p><q>I have tried it once myself, with great success.</q></p> +<pb n="152"/><anchor id="Pg152"/> + +<p><q>Bot how?</q></p> + +<p><q>You must fall ill.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot I cannot; I am too healthful, alas!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker smiled artfully. <q>They come to tea in +our rooms to-morrow, you know. By then, Baron, you +must be laid up, ill or not, just as you please. A grain +of Lady Alicia’s sympathy is worth more than a ton of +even your wit.</q></p> + +<p>The standard chosen for the measurement of his wit +escaped the Baron, the scheme delighted him.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, Bonker! schön! I tvig! Goot!</q> he cried. <q>How +shall ve do?</q></p> + +<p><q>Leave it to me.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron reflected, and his smile died away.</p> + +<p><q>Sopposing,</q> he said, slowly, <q>zey find out? Is it +vise? Is it straight?</q></p> + +<p><q>They can’t find out. They go the next morning, +and what’s to prevent your making a quick recovery and +pluckily going down to Brierley Park as the interesting +convalescent? She will know that you’ve made a dangerous +journey on her account.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron’s face cleared again.</p> + +<p><q>Let us try!</q> he said; <q>anyzing is better zan my present +state. Bot, be careful, Bonker!</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall take the most minute precautions,</q> replied +Mr Bunker.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0305" type="chapter"> +<pb n="153"/><anchor id="Pg153"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER V.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The next morning the two conspirators breakfasted +early. The Baron seemed a little nervous now that it +came so near the venture, but his friend was as cheerful +as a schoolboy, and his confident air soon put fresh courage +into Rudolph.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker’s bedroom opened out of their common +sitting-room, and so he declared that in the afternoon +the Baron must be laid up there.</p> + +<p><q>Keep your room all morning,</q> he said, <q>and look as +pale as you can. I shall make my room ready for you.</q></p> + +<p>When the Baron had retired, he threw himself into a +chair and gazed for a few minutes round his bedroom. +Then he rang his bell, ordered the servant to make the +bed immediately, and presently went out to do some +shopping. On the way he sent word to the Countess, +telling her only that the Baron was indisposed, but that +in spite of this misfortune he hoped he should have the +pleasure of their company at tea. The rest of the morning +he spent in his bedroom, prudently keeping out of +the ladies’ way.</p> + +<p>When, after a substantial lunch which he insisted +upon getting up to eat, the Baron was allowed to enter +the sick-room, he uttered an exclamation of astonishment,—and +indeed his surprise was natural. The room +was as full of flowers as a conservatory; chairs, wardrobe, +<pb n="154"/><anchor id="Pg154"/> +and fireplace were most artistically draped with art +hangings; a plate filled with grapes, a large bottle labelled +<q>Two table-spoonfuls every half hour,</q> and a medicine-glass +were placed conspicuously on a small table; and, +most remarkable feature of all, Mr Bunker’s bath filled +with water and alive with goldfish stood by the side of +the bed. A couple of canaries sang in a cage by the +window, the half-drawn curtains only permitted the most +delicate light to steal into the room, and in short the +whole arrangement reflected the utmost credit on his +ingenious friend.</p> + +<p>The Baron was delighted, but a little puzzled.</p> + +<p><q>Vat for are zese fishes and ze canaries?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>To show your love of nature.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vy so?</q></p> + +<p><q>There is nothing that pleases a woman more.</q></p> + +<p><q>My friend, you zink of everyzing!</q> exclaimed the +Baron, admiringly.</p> + +<p>When four o’clock approached he drew a night-shirt +over his other garments and got into bed. Mr Bunker +at first was in favour of a complete change of attire, but +on his friend’s expostulating against such a thorough +precaution, he admitted that it would be perhaps rather +like the historic blacking of Othello.</p> + +<p><q>Leave it all to me, my dear Baron,</q> he said, reassuringly, +as he tucked him in; and with that he went into +the other room and awaited the arrival of their guests.</p> + +<p>They came punctually. The Countess was full of +concern for the <q>dear Baron,</q> while Lady Alicia, he +could not help thinking, appeared unusually reserved. +<pb n="155"/><anchor id="Pg155"/> +In fact, his quick eye soon divined that something was +the matter.</p> + +<p><q>She has either been getting a lecture from the dowager +or has found something +out<corr sic="."><anchor id="E4"/><ref target="e4">,</ref></corr></q> +he said to himself.</p> + +<p>However, it seemed that if she had found anything +out it could have nothing to do with the Baron’s indisposition, +for she displayed the most ingenuous sympathy, +and, he thought, she even appeared to aim it pointedly at +himself.</p> + +<p><q>So sudden!</q> exclaimed the Countess.</p> + +<p><q>It is rather sudden, but we’ll hope it may pass as +quickly as it came,</q> said Mr Bunker, conveying a skilful +impression of deep concern veiled by a cheerful manner.</p> + +<p><q>Tell me honestly, Mr Bunker, is it dangerous?</q> +demanded the countess.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker hesitated, gave a half-hearted laugh, and +replied, <q>Oh, dear, no! that is—at present, Lady Grillyer, +we have really no reason to be alarmed.</q></p> + +<p><q>I am <hi rend="font-style: italic">so</hi> sorry,</q> +murmured Lady Alicia.</p> + +<p>Her mother looked at her approvingly.</p> + +<p><q>Poor Baron!</q> she said, in a tone of the greatest commiseration.</p> + +<p><q>So far from home!</q> sighed Mr Bunker. <q>And yet +so cheerful through it all,</q> he added.</p> + +<p><q>What did you say was the matter?</q> asked the Countess.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker had thought it both wiser and more effective +to maintain a little mystery round his friend’s malady.</p> + +<p><q>The doctor hasn’t yet given a decided opinion,</q> he +replied.</p> + +<p><q>Can’t we do anything?</q> said Lady Alicia, softly.</p> +<pb n="156"/><anchor id="Pg156"/> + +<p>Mr Bunker thought the guests were nearly worked up +to the proper pitch of sympathy.</p> + +<p><q>Poor Rudolph!</q> he exclaimed. <q>It would cheer +him immensely, I know, and ease my own anxiety as +well, if you would venture in to see him for a few minutes. +In such a case there is no sympathy so welcome as a +woman’s.</q></p> + +<p>The Countess glanced at her daughter, and wavered +for an instant between those proprieties for which she +was a famous stickler and this admirable chance of completing +the Baron’s conquest.</p> + +<p><q>His relations are far away,</q> said Mr Bunker, looking +pensively out of the window.</p> + +<p><q>We might come in for a few minutes, Alicia?</q> suggested +Lady Grillyer.</p> + +<p><q>Yes, mamma,</q> replied Lady Alicia, with an alacrity +that rather surprised their host.</p> + +<p>With a pleasantly dejected air he ushered the ladies +into the darkened sick-room. The Baron, striving to +conceal his exultation under a rueful semblance, greeted +them with a languid yet happy smile.</p> + +<p><q>Ah, Lady Grillyer, zis is kind indeed! And you, +Lady Alicia, how can I zank you?</q></p> + +<p><q>My daughter and I are much distressed, Baron, to +find our host <hi rend="font-style: italic">hors de +combat</hi>,</q> said the Countess, graciously.</p> + +<p><q>Just when you wanted to go away too!</q> added Lady +Alicia, sympathetically.</p> + +<p>The Baron emitted a happy blend of sigh and groan.</p> + +<p><q>Alas!</q> he replied, <q>it is hard indeed.</q></p> +<pb n="157"/><anchor id="Pg157"/> + +<p><q>You must hurry up and get better,</q> said the Countess, +in her most cheering sick-room manner. <q>It won’t do +to disappoint the Brierleys, you know.</q></p> + +<p><q>You must come down for <hi rend="font-style: italic">part</hi> +of the time,</q> smiled her daughter.</p> + +<p>These expressions of sympathy so affected the Baron +that he placed his hand on his brow and turned slightly +away to conceal his emotion. At the same time Mr +Bunker, with well-timed dramatic effect, sank wearily +into a chair, and, laying his elbow on the back, hid his +own face in his hand.</p> + +<p>Their guests jumped to the most alarming conclusions, +and looked from one to the other with great concern.</p> + +<p><q>Dear me!</q> said the Countess, <q>surely it isn’t so very +serious, Mr Bunker; it isn’t +<hi rend="font-style: italic">infectious</hi>, is it?</q></p> + +<p>The unlucky Baron here made his first mistake: without +waiting for his more diplomatic friend to reply, he +answered hastily, <q>Ach, no, it is bot a cold.</q></p> + +<p>Lady Grillyer’s expression changed.</p> + +<p><q>A cold!</q> she said. <q>Dear me, that can’t be so very +serious, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>It is a bad cold,</q> said the Baron.</p> + +<p>By this time the ladies’ eyes were growing more used +to the dim light, and Mr Bunker could see that they +were taking rapid stock of the garnishings.</p> + +<p><q>This, I suppose, is your cough-mixture,</q> said the +Countess, examining the bottle.</p> + +<p>The Baron incautiously admitted it was.</p> + +<p><q>Two table-spoonfuls every half hour!</q> she exclaimed; +<pb n="158"/><anchor id="Pg158"/> +<q>why, I never heard of taking a cough-mixture in such +doses. Besides, your cough doesn’t seem so very bad, +Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze doctor told me to take it so,</q> replied the Baron.</p> + +<p>The Countess turned towards Mr Bunker and said, +with a touch of suspicion in her voice, <q>I thought, Mr +Bunker, the doctor had given no opinion.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron threw a glance of intense ferocity at his +friend.</p> + +<p><q>In the Baron’s desire to spare your feelings,</q> replied +Mr Bunker, gravely, <q>he has been a little inaccurate; +that is not precisely an ordinary cough-mixture.</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh,</q> said the Countess.</p> + +<p>Lady Alicia’s attention had been strongly attracted +by the bath, and suddenly she exclaimed, <q>Why, there +are goldfish in it!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron’s nerve was fast deserting him.</p> + +<p><q>Ze doctor ordered zem,</q> he began—<q>I mean, I am +fond of fishes.</q></p> + +<p>The Countess looked hard at the unhappy young man, +and then turned severely to his friend.</p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">What</hi> is the matter +with the Baron?</q> she demanded.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker saw there was nothing for it but heroic +measures.</p> + +<p><q>The dog was destroyed at once,</q> he replied, with +intense gravity. <q>It is therefore impossible to say exactly +what is the matter.</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">The dog!</hi></q> cried +the two ladies together.</p> + +<p><q>By this evening,</q> he continued, <q>we shall know the +worst—or the best.</q></p> +<pb n="159"/><anchor id="Pg159"/> + +<p><q>What do you mean?</q> exclaimed the Countess, withdrawing +a step from the bed.</p> + +<p><q>I mean,</q> replied Mr Bunker, with a happy inspiration, +<q>that this bath is a delicate test. No victim of the +dread disease of hydrophobia can bear to look&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>But the Countess gave him no time to finish. Even +as he was speaking the Baron’s face had passed through +a series of the most extraordinary expressions, which she +not unnaturally put down to premonitory symptoms.</p> + +<p><q>It’s beginning already!</q> she shrieked. <q>Alicia, my +love, come quickly. How dare you expose us, sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>Calm yourselves. I assure you&qdash;</q> pleaded Mr +Bunker, coming hastily after them, but they were at the +door before him.</p> + +<p>The hapless Baron could stand it no longer. Crying, +<q>No, no, it is false!</q> he sprang out of bed, arrayed in a +tweed suit only half concealed by his night-shirt, and, +forgetting all about the bath, descended with a great +splash among the startled goldfish.</p> + +<p>The Countess paused in the half-opened door and +looked at him with horror that rapidly passed into intense +indignation.</p> + +<p><q>I am not ill!</q> he cried. <q>It vos zat rascal Bonker’s +plot. He made me! I haf not hydrophobia!</q></p> + +<p>Most unkindest cut of all, Lady Alicia went off into +hysterical giggles. For a moment her mother glared +at the two young men in silence, and then only remarking, +<q>I have never been so insulted before,</q> she went +out, and her daughter followed her.</p> + +<p>As the door closed Mr Bunker went off into roar after +<pb n="160"/><anchor id="Pg160"/> +roar of laughter, but the humorous side of the situation +seemed to appeal very slightly to his injured friend.</p> + +<p><q>You rascal! you villain!</q> he shouted, <q>zis is ze end +of our friendship, Bonker! Do you use ze pistols? Tell +me, sare!</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron,</q> gasped Mr Bunker, <q>I could not +put such an inartistic end to so fine a joke for the +world.</q></p> + +<p><q>You vill not fight? Coward! poltroon! I know not +ze English name bad enoff for you!</q></p> + +<p>With difficulty Mr Bunker composed himself and +replied, still smiling: <q>After all, Baron, what harm has +been done? I get all the blame, and the sympathy you +wanted is sure to turn to you.</q></p> + +<p><q>False friend!</q> thundered the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron!</q> said Mr Bunker, mildly, <q>whose +fault was it that the plot miscarried? If you’d only left +it all to me&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Left it to you! Yes, I left too moch to you! Traitor, +it vas a trick to vin ze Lady Alicia for yourself! Speak +to me nevermore!</q> And with that the infuriated nobleman +rushed off to his own room.</p> + +<p>As there was no further sign of him for the next half +hour, Mr Bunker, still smiling to himself at the recollection, +went out to take the air; but just as he was about to +descend the stairs he spied Lady Alicia lingering in a +passage. He turned back and went up to her.</p> + +<p>She began at once in a low, hurried voice that seemed +to have a strain of anger running beneath it.</p> + +<p><q>I got the two letters I wrote you returned to me to-day +<pb n="161"/><anchor id="Pg161"/> +through the dead-letter office. Nothing was known +about you at the address you gave.</q></p> + +<p><q>I am not surprised,</q> he replied.</p> + +<p><q>Then it was false?</q></p> + +<p><q>As an address it was perfectly genuine, only it didn’t +happen to be mine.</q></p> + +<p><q>Were you <hi rend="font-style: italic">ever</hi> in the Church?</q></p> + +<p><q>Not to my personal knowledge.</q></p> + +<p><q>Yet you said you were?</q></p> + +<p><q>I was in an asylum.</q></p> + +<p>She looked up at him with fine contempt, while he +smiled back at her with great amusement.</p> + +<p><q>You have deceived <hi rend="font-style: italic">me</hi>,</q> +she said, <q>and you have treated your other friend—who +is far too good for you—disgracefully. +Have you anything to say for yourself?</q></p> + +<p><q>Not a word,</q> he replied, cheerfully.</p> + +<p><q>You must <hi rend="font-style: italic">never</hi> treat +me again as—as I let you.</q></p> + +<p>As a smile played for an instant about his face, she +added quickly, <q>I don’t +<hi rend="font-style: italic">suppose</hi> I shall ever see you +again. In future we are not +<hi rend="font-style: italic">likely</hi> to meet.</q></p> + +<p><q>The lady and the lunatic?</q> said he. <q>Well, perhaps +not. Good-bye, and better luck.</q></p> + +<p><q>Good-bye,</q> she answered coldly, and added as they +parted, <q>my mother, of course, is extremely angry with +you.</q></p> + +<p><q>There,</q> he said with a smile, <q>you see I still come in +useful.</q></p> + +<p>She hurried away, and Mr Bunker walked slowly +downstairs and out of the hotel.</p> +<pb n="162"/><anchor id="Pg162"/> + +<p><q>It seems to me,</q> he reflected, <q>that I shall have to +set out on my adventures again alone.</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0306" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VI.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Baron’s natural good temper might have forgiven +his friend, but all night he was a prey to something against +which no temper is proof. The Baron was bitterly jealous. +All through breakfast he never spoke a word, and when +Mr Bunker asked him what train he intended to take, +he replied curtly, as he went to the door, <q>Ze 5.30.</q></p> + +<p><q>And where do you go now?</q></p> + +<p><q>Vat is zat to you? I go for a valk. I vould be +alone.</q></p> + +<p><q>Good-bye, then, Baron,</q> said Mr Bunker. <q>I think +I shall go up to town.</q></p> + +<p><q>Go, zen,</q> replied the Baron, opening the door; <q>I haf +no furzer vish to see a treacherous +<hi rend="font-style: italic">sponge</hi> zat vill neizer +be true nor fight, bot jost takes money.</q></p> + +<p>He slammed the door and went out. If he had waited +for a moment, he would have seen a look in Mr Bunker’s +face that he had never seen before. He half started +from his chair to follow, and then sat down again and +thought with his lips very tight set.</p> + +<p>All at once they broke into a smile that was grimmer +than anything the Baron had known.</p> + +<p><q>I accept your challenge, Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg,</q> +he said to himself; <q>but the weapons I shall choose +myself.</q></p> + +<p>He took a telegraph form, wrote and despatched a +<pb n="163"/><anchor id="Pg163"/> +wire, and then with considerable haste proceeded to +pack. Within an hour he had left the hotel.</p> + +<milestone unit="tb" rend="stars: 5"/> + +<p>When a servant, later in the day, was performing, +under the Baron’s directions, the same office for him, +a series of discoveries that still further disturbed his +peace of mind were jointly made. Not only the more +sporting portions of his wardrobe but his gun and cartridges +as well, had vanished, and, search and storm as +he liked, there was not a trace of them to be found.</p> + +<p><q>Ze rascal!</q> he muttered; <q>I did not zink he was zief +as well.</q></p> + +<p>It is hardly wonderful that he arrived at Brierley +station in anything but an amiable frame of mind. There, +to his great annoyance and surprise, he found no signs +of Sir Richard’s carriage; there were no stables near, +and, after fuming for some time on the platform, he +was forced to leave his luggage with the station-master +and proceed on foot to Brierley Park.</p> + +<p>He arrived shortly before seven o’clock, after a dark +and muddy tramp, and, still swearing under his breath, +pulled the bell with indignant energy.</p> + +<p><q>I am ze Baron von Blitzenberg, bot zere vas no carriage +at ze station,</q> he informed the butler in his haughtiest +tones.</p> + +<p>The man looked at him suspiciously.</p> + +<p><q>The Baron arrived this morning,</q> he said.</p> + +<p><q>Ze Baron? Vat Baron? I am ze Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall fetch Sir Richard,</q> said the butler, turning +away.</p> +<pb n="164"/><anchor id="Pg164"/> + +<p>Presently a stout florid gentleman, accompanied by +three friends, all evidently very curious and amused +about something, came to the door, and, to the poor +Baron’s amazement and horror, he recognised in one of +these none other than Mr Bunker, arrayed with much +splendour in his own ornate shooting suit.</p> + +<p><q>What do you want?</q> asked the florid gentleman, +sternly.</p> + +<p><q>Have I ze pleasure of addressing Sir Richard Brierley?</q> +inquired the Baron, raising his hat and bowing +profoundly.</p> + +<p><q>You have.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zen I must tell you zat I am ze Baron Rudolph von +Blitzenberg.</q></p> + +<p><q>Gom, gom, my man!</q> interposed Mr Bunker. <q>I +know you. Zis man, Sir Richard, has before annoyed +me. He is vat you call impostor, cracked; he has vollowed +me from Germany. Go avay, man!</q></p> + +<p><q>You are impostor! You scoundrel, Bonker!</q> shouted +the wrathful Baron. <q>He is no Baron, Sir Richard! +Ha! Vould you again deceive me, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>You must lock him up, I fear,</q> said Mr Bunker. +<q>To-morrow, my man, you vill see ze police.</q></p> + +<p>So completely did the Baron lose his head that he +became almost inarticulate with rage: his protestations, +however, were not of the slightest avail. That morning +Sir Richard had received a wire informing him that the +Baron was coming by an earlier train than he had originally +intended, and, since his arrival, the spurious nobleman +had so ingratiated himself with his host that Sir +<pb n="165"/><anchor id="Pg165"/> +Richard was filled with nothing but sympathy for him +in his persecution. After a desperate struggle the unfortunate +Rudolph was overpowered and conveyed in +the undignified fashion known as the frog’s march to a +room in a remote wing, there to pass the night under +lock and key.</p> + +<p><q>The scoundrelly German impostor!</q> exclaimed a +young man, a fellow visitor of the Baron Bunker’s, to a +tall, military-looking gentleman.</p> + +<p>Colonel Savage seemed lost in thought.</p> + +<p><q>It is a curious thing, Trelawney,</q> he replied, at +length, <q>that the footman who attends the Baron should +have told my man—who, of course, told me—that a number +of his things are marked <q>Francis Beveridge.</q> It is +also rather strange that this impostor should have known +so little of the Baron’s movements as to arrive several +hours after him, assuming he had hatched a plot to impersonate +him.</q></p> + +<p><q>But the man’s obviously mad.</q></p> + +<p><q>Must be,</q> said the colonel.</p> + +<p>The house party were assembled in the drawing-room +waiting for dinner to be announced. The bogus Baron +was engaged in an animated discussion with Colonel +Savage on the subject of Bavarian shootings, and the +colonel having omitted to inform him that he had some +personal experience of these, Mr Bunker was serving +up such of his friend’s anecdotes as he could remember +with sauce more peculiarly his own.</p> + +<p><q>Five hondred vild boars,</q> he was saying, <q>eight +hondred brace of partridges, many bears, and rabbits so +<pb n="166"/><anchor id="Pg166"/> +moch zat it took five veeks to bury zem. All zese ve did +shoot before breakfast, colonel. Aftair breakfast again +ve did go out&qdash;</q></p> + +<p>But at that moment his attention was sharply arrested +by a question of Lady Brierley’s.</p> + +<p><q>Has Dr Escott arrived?</q> she asked.</p> + +<p>The Baron Bunker paused, and in spite of his habitual +coolness, the observant colonel noticed that he started +ever so slightly.</p> + +<p><q>He came half an hour ago,</q> replied Sir Richard. +<q>Ah, here he is.</q></p> + +<p>As he spoke, a well-remembered figure came into the +room, and after a welcome from his hostess, the dinner +procession started.</p> + +<p><q>Whoever is that tall fair man in front?</q> Dr Escott +asked his partner as they crossed the hall.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, that’s the Baron von Blitzenberg: such an amusing +man! We are all in love with him already.</q></p> + +<p>All through dinner the spurious Baron saw that Dr +Escott’s eyes turned continually and curiously on him; +yet never for an instant did his spirits droop or his conversation +flag. Witty and charming as ever, he discoursed +in his comical foreign accent to the amusement +of all within hearing, and by the time the gentlemen +adjourned to the billiard-room, he had established the +reputation of being the most delightful German ever +seen. Yet Dr Escott grew more suspicious and bewildered, +and Mr Bunker felt that he was being narrowly +watched. The skill at billiards of a certain Francis +Beveridge used to be the object of the doctor’s unbounded +<pb n="167"/><anchor id="Pg167"/> +admiration, and it was with the liveliest interest that he +watched a game between Colonel Savage and the Baron.</p> + +<p>That nobleman knew well the danger of displaying +his old dexterity, and to the onlookers it soon became +apparent that this branch of his education had been +neglected. He not only missed the simplest shots, but +seemed very ignorant of the rules of the English game, +and in consequence he came in for a little good-natured +chaff from Sir Richard and Trelawney. When the +colonel’s score stood at 90 and the Baron had scarcely +reached 25 Trelawney cried, <q>I’ll bet you ten to one you +don’t win, Baron!</q></p> + +<p><q>What in?</q> asked the Baron, and the colonel noticed +that for the first time be pronounced a +<hi rend="font-style: italic">w</hi> correctly.</p> + +<p><q>Sovereigns,</q> said Trelawney, gaily.</p> + +<p>The temptation was irresistible.</p> + +<p><q>Done!</q> said the Baron. With a professional disregard +for conventions he bolted the white into the middle +pocket, leaving his own ball nicely beside the red. Down +in its turn went the red, and Mr Bunker was on the spot. +Three followed three in monotonous succession, Trelawney’s +face growing longer and Dr Escott getting more +and more excited, till with a smile Mr Bunker laid down +his cue, a sensational winner.</p> + +<p>His victory was received in silence: Trelawney handed +over two five-pound notes without a word, and the colonel +returned to his whisky-and-soda. Dr Escott could contain +himself no longer, and whispering something to Sir +Richard, the two left the room.</p> + +<p>Imperturbable as ever, Mr Bunker talked gaily for a +<pb n="168"/><anchor id="Pg168"/> +few minutes to an unresponsive audience, and then, +remarking that he would join the ladies, left the room.</p> + +<p>A minute or two later Sir Richard, with an anxious +face, returned with Dr Escott.</p> + +<p><q>Where is the Baron?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>Gone to join the ladies,</q> replied Trelawney, adding +under his breath, <q>d&qdash; n him!</q></p> + +<p>But the Baron was not with the ladies, nor, search the +house as they might, was there a trace to be seen of that +accomplished nobleman.</p> + +<p><q>He has gone!</q> said Sir Richard.</p> + +<p><q>What the deuce is the meaning of it?</q> exclaimed +Trelawney.</p> + +<p>Colonel Savage smiled grimly and suggested, <q>Perhaps +he wants to give the impostor an innings.</q></p> + +<p><q>Dr Escott, I think, can tell you,</q> replied the baronet.</p> + +<p><q>Gentlemen,</q> said the doctor, <q>the man whom you +have met as the Baron von Blitzenberg is none other +than a most cunning and determined lunatic. He escaped +from the asylum where I am at present assistant doctor, +after all but murdering me; he has been seen in London +since, but how he came to impersonate the unfortunate +gentleman whom you locked up this afternoon I cannot +say.</q></p> + +<p>Before they broke up for the night the genuine Baron, +released from confinement and soothed by the humblest +apologies and a heavy supper, recounted the main events +in Mr Beveridge <hi rend="font-style: italic">alias</hi> +Bunker’s brief career in town. +On his exploits in St Egbert’s he felt some delicacy in +touching, but at the end of what was after all only a +<pb n="169"/><anchor id="Pg169"/> +fragmentary and one-sided narrative, even the defrauded +Trelawney could not but admit that, whatever the departed +gentleman’s failings, his talents at least were +worthy of a better cause.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0307" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER VII.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The party at Brierley Park had gone at last to bed. +The Baron was installed in his late usurper’s room, and +from the clock-tower the hour of three had just been +tolled. Sympathy and Sir Richard’s cellar had greatly +mollified the Baron’s wrath; he had almost begun to see +the humorous side of his late experience; as a rival Mr +Bunker was extinct, and with an easy mind and a placid +smile he had fallen asleep some two hours past.</p> + +<p>The fire burned low, and for long nothing but the +occasional sigh of the wind in the trees disturbed the +silence. At length, had the Baron been awake, he might +have heard the stealthiest of footsteps in the corridor +outside. Then they stopped; his door was gently opened, +and first a head and then a whole man slipped in.</p> + +<p>Still the Baron slept, dreaming peacefully of his late +companion. They were driving somewhere in a hansom, +Mr Bunker was telling one of his most amusing stories, +when there came a shock, the hansom seemed to turn a +somersault, and the Baron awoke. At first he thought +he must be dreaming still; the electric light had been +turned on and the room was bright as day, but, more +bewildering yet, Mr Bunker was seated on his bed, gazing +at him with an expression of thoughtful amusement.</p> +<pb n="170"/><anchor id="Pg170"/> + +<p><q>Well, Baron,</q> he said, <q>I trust you are comfortable +in these excellent quarters.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron, half awake and wholly astonished, was +unable to collect his ideas in time to make any reply.</p> + +<p><q>But remember,</q> continued Mr Bunker, <q>you have +a reputation to live up to. I have set the standard high +for Bavarian barons.</q></p> + +<p>The indignant Baron at last recovered his wits.</p> + +<p><q>If you do not go away <hi rend="font-style: italic">at +vonce</hi>,</q> he said, raising himself +on his elbows, <q>I shall raise ze house upon you!</q></p> + +<p><q>Have you forgotten that you are talking to a dangerous +lunatic, who probably never stirs without his razor?</q></p> + +<p>The Baron looked at him and turned a little pale. He +made no further movement, but answered stoutly enough, +<q>Vat do you vant?</q></p> + +<p><q>In the first place, I want my brush and comb, a few +clothes, and my hand-bag. Events happened rather more +quickly this evening than I had anticipated.</q></p> + +<p><q>Take zem.</q></p> + +<p><q>I should also like,</q> continued Mr Bunker, unmoved, +<q>to have a little talk with you. I think I owe you some +explanation—perhaps an apology or two—and I’m afraid +it’s my last chance.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zay it zen.</q></p> + +<p><q>Of course I understand that you make no hostile +demonstration till I am finished? A hunted man must +take precautions, you know.</q></p> + +<p><q>I vill let you go.</q></p> + +<p><q>Thanks, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker folded his arms, leaned his back against +<pb n="171"/><anchor id="Pg171"/> +the foot of the bed, and began in his half-bantering way, +<q>I have amused you, Baron, now and then, you must +admit?</q></p> + +<p>The Baron made no reply.</p> + +<p><q>That I place to my credit, and I think few debts are +better worth repaying. On the other hand, I confess I +have subsisted for some time entirely on your kindness. +I’m afraid that alone counterbalances the debt, and +when it comes to my being the means of your taking a +bath in mixed company and spending an evening in a +locked room, there’s no doubt the balance is greatly on +your side.</q></p> + +<p><q>I zink so,</q> observed the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>So I’ll tell you a true story, a favour with which I +haven’t indulged any one for some considerable time.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron coughed, but said nothing.</p> + +<p><q>My biography for all practical purposes,</q> Mr Bunker +continued, <q>begins in that sequestered retreat, Clankwood +Asylum. How and with whom I came there I +haven’t the very faintest recollection. I simply woke up +from an extraordinary drowsiness to find myself recovering +from a sharp attack of what I may most euphoniously +call mental excitement. The original cause of it is very +dim in my mind, and has, so far as I remember, nothing +to do with the rest of the story. The attack was very +short, I believe. I soon came to something more or less +like myself; only, Baron, the singular thing is, that it was +to all intents and purposes a new self—whether better +or worse, my faulty memory does not permit me to say. +I’d clean forgotten who I was and all about me. I found +<pb n="172"/><anchor id="Pg172"/> +myself called Francis Beveridge, but that wasn’t my old +name, I know.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha!</q> exclaimed the Baron, growing interested despite +himself.</p> + +<p><q>And the most remarkable thing of all is that up till +this day I haven’t the very vaguest notion what my real +name is.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zo?</q> said the Baron. <q>Bot vy should they change it?</q></p> + +<p><q>There you’ve laid your finger on the mystery, Baron. +Why? Heaven knows: I wish I did!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron looked at him with undisguised interest.</p> + +<p><q>Strange!</q> he said, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p><q>Damnably strange. I found myself compelled to +live in an asylum and answer to a new name, and really, +don’t you know, under the circumstances I could give no +very valid reason for getting out. I seemed to have +blossomed there like one of the asylum plants. I couldn’t +possibly have been more identified with the place. Besides, +I’m free to confess that for some time my reason, +taking it all in all, wasn’t particularly valid on any point. +By George, I had a funny time! Ha, ha, ha!</q></p> + +<p>His mirth was so infectious that the Baron raised his +voice in a hearty <q>Ha, ha!</q> and then stopped abruptly, +and said cautiously, <q>Haf a care, Bonker, zey may hear!</q></p> + +<p><q>However, Baron,</q> Mr Bunker continued, <q>out I +was determined to get, and out I came in the manner +of which perhaps my friend Escott has already informed +you.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron grinned and nodded.</p> + +<p><q>I came up to town, and on my very first evening I +<pb n="173"/><anchor id="Pg173"/> +had the good fortune to meet the Baron Rudolph von +Blitzenberg—as perhaps you may remember. In my +own defence, Baron, I may fairly plead that since I could +remember nothing about my past career, I was entitled +to supply the details from my imagination. After all, +I have no proof that some of my stories may not have +been correct. I used this privilege freely in Clankwood, +and, in a word, since I couldn’t tell the truth if I wanted +to, I quenched the desire.</q></p> + +<p><q>You hombog!</q> said the Baron, not without a note of +admiration.</p> + +<p><q>I was, and I gloried in it. Baron, if you ever want to +know how ample a thing life can be, become a certified +lunatic! You are quite irresponsible for your debts, +your crimes, and, not least, your words. It certainly +enlarges one’s horizon. All this time, I may say, I was +racking my brains—which, by the way, have been steadily +growing saner in other matters—for some recollections +of my previous whereabouts, my career, if I had any, +and, above all, of my name.</q></p> + +<p><q>Can you remember nozing?</q></p> + +<p><q>I can remember a large country house which I think +belonged to me, but in what part of the country it stands +I haven’t the slightest recollection. I can’t remember +any family, and as no one has inquired for me, I don’t +suppose I had any. Many incidents—sporting, festive, +amusing, and discreditable—I remember distinctly, and +many faces, but there’s nothing to piece them together +with. Can you recall one or two incidents in town, +when people spoke to me or bowed to me?</q></p> +<pb n="174"/><anchor id="Pg174"/> + +<p><q>Yes, vell; I vondered zen.</q></p> + +<p><q>I suppose they knew me. In a general sort of way I +knew them. But when a man doesn’t know his own +name, and will probably be replaced in an asylum if he’s +identified, there isn’t much encouragement for greeting +old friends. And do you remember my search for a +name in the hotel at St Egbert’s?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yah—zat is, yes.</q></p> + +<p><q>It was for my own I was looking.</q></p> + +<p><q>You found it not?</q></p> + +<p><q>No. The worst of it is, I can’t even remember what +letter it began with. Sometimes I think it was M, or +perhaps N, and sometimes I’m almost sure it was E. It +will come to me some day, no doubt, Baron, but till it +does I shall have to wander about a nameless man, looking +for it. And after all, I am not without the consolations +of a certain useful, workaday kind of philosophy.</q></p> + +<p>He rose from the bed and smiled humorously at his +friend.</p> + +<p><q>And now, Baron,</q> he said, <q>it only remains to offer +you such thanks and apologies as a lunatic may, and +then clear out before the cock crows. These are my +brushes, I think.</q></p> + +<p>There was still something on the Baron’s mind: he lay +for a moment watching Mr Bunker collect a few odds +and ends and put them rapidly into a small bag, and +then blurted out suddenly, <q>Ze Lady Alicia—do you +loff her?</q></p> + +<p><q>By Jove!</q> exclaimed Mr Bunker, <q>I’d forgotten all +about her. I ought to have told you that I once met her +<pb n="175"/><anchor id="Pg175"/> +before, when she showed sympathy—practical sympathy, +I may add—for an unfortunate gentleman in Clankwood. +That’s all.</q></p> + +<p><q>You do not loff her?</q> persisted the Baron.</p> + +<p><q>I, my dear chap? No. You are most welcome to +her—<hi rend="font-style: italic">and</hi> the countess.</q></p> + +<p><q>Does she not loff you?</q></p> + +<p><q>On my honour, no. I told her a few early reminiscences; +she happened to discover they were not what is +generally known as true, and took so absurd a view of +the case that I doubt whether she would speak to me +again if she met me. In fact, Baron, if I read the omens +aright—and I’ve had some experience—you only need +courage and a voice.</q></p> + +<p>The bed creaked, there was a volcanic upheaval of +the clothes as the Baron sprang out on to the floor, and +the next instant Mr Bunker was clasped in his embrace.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, my own Bonker, forgif me! I haf suspected, +I haf not been ze true friend; you have sairved me right +to gom here as ze Baron. I vas too bad a Baron to gom! +You have amused me, you have instrogted, you have +varmed my heart. My dear frient!</q></p> + +<p>To tell the truth, Mr Bunker looked, for the first time +in their acquaintance, a little ill at ease. He laughed, +but it sounded affected.</p> + +<p><q>My dear fellow—hang it! You’d make me out a +martyr. As a matter of fact, I’ve been such a thorn as +very few people would stand in their flesh. There’s +nothing to forgive, my dear Baron, and a lot to thank +you for.</q></p> +<pb n="176"/><anchor id="Pg176"/> + +<p><q>I haf been rude, Bonker; I haf insulted you! You +forgif me?</q></p> + +<p><q>With all my heart, if you think it’s needed, but&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>And you vill not go now? You vill stay here?</q></p> + +<p><q>What, two Barons at once? My dear chap, we’d +merely confuse the butler.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, you vill joke, you hombog! But you most +stay!</q></p> + +<p><q>And what about my friend, Dr Escott? No, Baron, +it would only mean breakfast and the next train to Clankwood.</q></p> + +<p><q>Zey vill not take you ven you tell zem! I shall insist +viz Sir Richard!</q></p> + +<p><q>The law is the law, Baron, and I’m a certified lunatic. +Here we must part till the weather clears; and mind, you +mustn’t say a word about my coming to see you.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron looked at him disconsolately.</p> + +<p><q>You most really go, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>Really, Baron.</q></p> + +<p><q>And vere to?</q></p> + +<p><q>To London town again by the milk train.</q></p> + +<p><q>And vat vill you do zere?</q></p> + +<p><q>Look for my name.</q></p> + +<p><q>Bot how?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker hesitated.</p> + +<p><q>I have a little clue,</q> he said at last, <q>only a thread, +but I’ll try it for what it’s worth.</q></p> + +<p><q>Haf you money enoff?</q></p> + +<p><q>Thanks to your generosity and my skill at billiards, +yes, which reminds me that I must return poor Trelawney’s +<pb n="177"/><anchor id="Pg177"/> +ten pounds some day. At present, I can’t +afford to be scrupulous. So, you see, I’m provided +for.</q></p> + +<p><q>Cigars at least, Bonker! You most smoke, my frient +vizout a name!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron, night-shirted and barefooted as he was, +dived into his portmanteau and produced a large box of +cigars.</p> + +<p><q>You like zese, Bonker. Zey are your own choice. +Smoke zem and zink of me!</q></p> + +<p><q>A few, Baron, would be a pleasant reminiscence,</q> +said his friend, with a smile, <q>if you really insist.</q></p> + +<p><q>All, Bonker,—I vill not keep vun! I can get more. +No, you most take zem all!</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker opened his bag and put in the box without +a word.</p> + +<p><q>You most write,</q> said the Baron, <q>tell me vere you +are. I shall not tell any soul, bot ven I can, I shall gom +up, and ve shall sup togezzer vunce more. Pairhaps ve +may haf anozzer adventure, ha, ha!</q></p> + +<p>The Baron’s laugh was almost too hearty to be true.</p> + +<p><q>I shall let you know, as soon as I find a room. It +won’t be in the Mayonaise this time! Good-bye: good +sport and luck in love!</q></p> + +<p><q>Good-bye, my frient, good-bye,</q> said the Baron, +squeezing his hand.</p> + +<p>His friend was half out of the door when he turned, +and said with an intonation quite foreign either to Beveridge +or Bunker, and yet which came very pleasantly, +<q>I forgot to warn you of one thing when I advised you +<pb n="178"/><anchor id="Pg178"/> +to try the <hi rend="font-style: italic">rôle</hi> of +certified lunatic—you are not likely to +make so good a friend as I have.</q></p> + +<p>He shut the door noiselessly and was gone.</p> + +<p>The Baron stood in the middle of the floor for fully +five minutes, looking blankly at the closed door; then +with a sigh he turned out the light and tumbled into bed +again.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div rend="page-break-before: always" id="LL0400" type="part"> +<pb n="179"/><anchor id="Pg179"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">PART IV.</hi> +</head> + +<div id="LL0401" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER I.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The Dover express was nearing town: evening had +begun to draw in, and from the wayside houses +people saw the train roar by like a huge glowworm; +but they could hardly guess that it was +hurrying two real actors to the climax of a real comedy.</p> + +<p>From the opposite sides of a first-class carriage these +two looked cheerfully at one another. The Channel +was safely behind them, London was close ahead, and +the piston of the engine seemed to thump a triumphal air.</p> + +<p><q>We’ve done it, Twiddel, my boy!</q> said the one.</p> + +<p><q>Thank Heaven!</q> replied the other.</p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">And</hi> myself,</q> added his friend.</p> + +<p><q>Yes,</q> said Twiddel; <q>you played your part uncommonly +well, Welsh.</q></p> + +<p><q>It was the deuce of a fine spree!</q> sighed Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>The deuce,</q> assented Twiddel.</p> + +<p><q>I’m only sorry it’s all over,</q> Welsh went on, gazing +regretfully up at the lamp of the carriage. <q>I’d give the +remains of my character and my chance of a public funeral +to be starting again from Paris by the morning train!</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel laughed.</p> + +<p><q>With the same head you had that morning?</q></p> +<pb n="180"/><anchor id="Pg180"/> + +<p><q>Yes, by George! Even with the same mile of dusty +gullet!</q></p> + +<p><q>It’s all over now,</q> said Twiddel, philosophically, +and yet rather nervously—<q>at least the amusing part +of it.</q></p> + +<p><q>All the fun, my boy, all the fun. All the dinners +and the drinks, and the touching of hats to the aristocratic +travellers, and the girls that sighed, and the bowing and +scraping. Do you remember the sporting baronet who +knew my uncle? Now, I’m plain Robert Welsh, whose +uncles, as far as I am aware, don’t know a baronet among +’em.</q></p> + +<p>He smiled a little sardonically.</p> + +<p><q>And the baron at Fogelschloss,</q> said Twiddel.</p> + +<p><q>Who insisted on learning my pedigree back to Alfred +the Great! Gad, I gave it him, though, and I doubt +whether the real Essington could have done as much. +I’d rather surprise some of these noblemen if I turned up +again in my true character!</q></p> + +<p><q>Thank the Lord, we’re not likely to meet them again!</q> +exclaimed the doctor, devoutly.</p> + +<p><q>No,</q> said Welsh; <q>here endeth the second lesson.</q></p> + +<p>His friend, who had been well brought up, looked a +trifle uncomfortable at this quotation.</p> + +<p><q>I say,</q> he remarked a few minutes later, <q>we haven’t +finished yet. We’ve got to get the man out again, and +hand him back to his friends.</q></p> + +<p><q>Cured,</q> said Welsh, with a laugh.</p> + +<p><q>I wonder how he is?</q></p> + +<p><q>We’ll soon see.</q></p> +<pb n="181"/><anchor id="Pg181"/> + +<p>They fell silent again, while the train hurried nearer +and nearer London town. Welsh seemed to be musing +on some nice point, it might be of conscience, it might +also conceivably be of a more practical texture. At last +he said, <q>There’s just one thing, old man. What about +the fee?</q></p> + +<p><q>I’ll get a cheque for it, I suppose,</q> his friend replied, +with an almost excessive air of mastery over the problem.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha!</q> laughed Welsh; <q>you know what I mean. +It’s a delicate question and all that, but, hang it, it’s got +to be answered.</q></p> + +<p><q>What has?</q></p> + +<p><q>The division of the spoil.</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel looked dignified.</p> + +<p><q>I’ll see you get your share, old man,</q> he answered, +easily.</p> + +<p><q>But what share?</q></p> + +<p><q>You suggested £100, I think.</q></p> + +<p><q>Out of £500—when I’ve done all the deceiving and +told all the lies! Come, old man!</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, what do you want?</q></p> + +<p><q>Do you remember a certain crisis when we’d made +a slip&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>You’d made a slip!</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">We</hi> had made a slip, +and you wanted to chuck the +game and bolt? Do you remember also the terms I +proposed when I offered to beard the local god almighty +in his lair and explain it all away, and how he became +our bosom pal and we were saved?</q></p> +<pb n="182"/><anchor id="Pg182"/> + +<p><q>Well?</q></p> + +<p><q>£300 to me, +<corr sic="$"><anchor id="E5"/><ref target="e5">£</ref></corr>200 +to you,</q> said Welsh, decisively.</p> + +<p><q>Rot, old man. I’ll share fairly, if you insist. £250 +apiece, will that do?</q></p> + +<p>Welsh said nothing, but his face was no longer the +countenance of the jovial adventurer.</p> + +<p><q>It will have to, I suppose,</q> he replied, at length.</p> + +<p>It was with this little cloud on the horizon that they +saw the lights of London twinkle through the windows, +and were carried into the clamour of the platforms.</p> + +<p>They both drove first to Twiddel’s rooms; and as they +looked out once more on the life and lights and traffic of +the streets, their faces cleared again.</p> + +<p><q>We’ll have a merry evening!</q> cried Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>A little supper,</q> suggested Twiddel; <q>a music-hall&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Et cetera,</q> added Welsh, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>The doctor had written of their coming, and they +found a fire in the back room, and the table laid.</p> + +<p><q>Ah,</q> cried Welsh, <q>this looks devilish comfortable.</q></p> + +<p><q>A letter for me,</q> said Twiddel; <q>from Billson, I +think.</q></p> + +<p>He read it and threw it to his friend, remarking, <q>I call +this rather cool of him.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh read—</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q rend="post: none"><hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">Dear + George</hi>,—I am just off for three weeks’ holiday. + Sorry for leaving your practice, but I think it can + look after itself till you return.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">You have only had two patients, and one + fee between them. The second man vanished mysteriously. I shall + <pb n="183"/><anchor id="Pg183"/> + tell you about it when I come back. He boned a bill, too, + I fancy, but the story will keep.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">I am looking forward to hearing the true + tale of your adventures. Good luck to you.—Yours ever,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"> + <hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">Thomas Billson</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p><q>Boned a bill?</q> exclaimed Welsh. <q>What bill, I +wonder?</q></p> + +<p><q>Something that came when I was away, I suppose. +Hang it, I think Billson might have looked after things +better!</q></p> + +<p><q>It sounds queer,</q> said Welsh, reflectively; <q>I wonder +what it was?</q></p> + +<p><q>Confound Billson, he might have told me,</q> observed +the doctor. <q>But, I say, you know we have something +more practical to see to.</q></p> + +<p><q>Getting the man out again?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, let’s have a little grub first.</q></p> + +<p>Twiddel rang the bell, and the frowsy little maid entered, +carrying a letter on a tray.</p> + +<p><q>Dinner,</q> said he.</p> + +<p><q>Please, sir,</q> began the maid, holding out the tray, +<q>this come for you near a month agow, but Missis she bin +and forgot to send it hafter you.</q></p> + +<p><q>Confound her!</q> said Twiddel, taking the letter.</p> + +<p>He looked at the envelope, and remarked with a little +start of nervous excitement, <q>From Dr Congleton.</q></p> + +<p><q>News of Mr Beveridge,</q> laughed Welsh.</p> + +<p>The doctor read the first few lines, and then, as if he had +got an electric shock, the letter fell from his hand, and an +<pb n="184"/><anchor id="Pg184"/> +expression of the most utter and lively consternation came +over his face.</p> + +<p><q>Heavens!</q> he ejaculated, <q>it’s all up.</q></p> + +<p><q>What’s up?</q> cried Welsh, snatching at the letter.</p> + +<p><q>He’s run away!</q></p> + +<p>Welsh looked at him for a moment in some astonishment, +and then burst out laughing.</p> + +<p><q>What a joke!</q> he cried; <q>I don’t see anything to make +a fuss about. We’re jolly well rid of him.</q></p> + +<p><q>The fee! I won’t get a penny till I bring him back. +And the whole thing will be found out!</q></p> + +<p>As the full meaning of this predicament burst upon +Welsh, his face underwent a change by no means pleasant +to watch. For a full minute he swore, and then an ominous +silence fell upon the room.</p> + +<p>Twiddel was the first to recover himself.</p> + +<p><q>Let me see the letter,</q> he said; <q>I haven’t +finished it.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh read it aloud—</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q rend="post: none"><hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">Dear + Twiddel</hi>,—I regret to inform you that the + patient, Francis Beveridge, whom you placed under my + care, has escaped from Clankwood. We have made every + inquiry consistent with strict privacy, but unfortunately + have not yet been able to lay our hands upon him. We + only know that he left Ashditch Junction in the London + express, and was seen walking out of St Euston’s Cross. + How he has been able to maintain himself in concealment + without money or clothes, I am unable to imagine.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">As no inquiries have been made for him + by his cousin Mr Welsh, or any other of his friends or relatives, + I am writing to you that you may inform them, and I hope that + this letter may follow you abroad without delay. I may + <pb n="185"/><anchor id="Pg185"/> + add that the circumstances of his escape showed most unusual + cunning, and could not possibly have been guarded against.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">Trusting that you are having a pleasant + holiday, I am, yours very truly,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"><hi + rend="font-variant: small-caps">Adolphus S. Congleton</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p>The two looked at one another in silence for a minute, +and then Welsh said, fiercely, <q>You must catch him again, +Twiddel. Do you think I am going to have all my risk +and trouble for nothing?</q></p> + +<p><q rend="post: none"><hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> +must catch him! Do you suppose <hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> +let him loose?<corr sic="’"><anchor id="E6"/><ref +target="e6">”</ref></corr></q></p> + +<p><q>You must catch him, all the same.</q></p> + +<p><q>I shan’t bother my head about him,</q> answered Twiddel, +with the recklessness of despair.</p> + +<p><q>You won’t? You want to have the story known, I +suppose?</q></p> + +<p><q>I don’t care if it is.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh looked at him for a minute: then he jumped up +and exclaimed, <q>You need a drink, old man. Let’s hurry +up that slavey.</q></p> + +<p>With the first course their countenances cleared a little, +with the second they were almost composed, by the end of +dinner they had started plot-hatching hopefully again.</p> + +<p><q>It’s any odds on the man’s still being in town,</q> said +Welsh. <q>He had no money or clothes, and evidently he +hasn’t gone to any of his friends, or the whole story would +have been out. Now, there is nowhere where a man can +lie low so well, especially if he is hard up, as London. I +can answer from experience. He is hardly likely to be in +the West End, or the best class of suburbs, so we’ve something +to go upon at once. We must go to a private inquiry +<pb n="186"/><anchor id="Pg186"/> +office and put men on his track, and then we must +take the town in beats ourselves. So much is clear; do +you see?</q></p> + +<p><q>And hadn’t we better find out whether anything more +is known at Clankwood?</q> suggested Twiddel. <q>Dr +Congleton wrote a month ago; perhaps they have caught +him by this time.</q></p> + +<p><q>Hardly likely, I’m afraid; he’d have written to you if +they had. Still, we can but ask.</q></p> + +<p><q>But, I say!</q> the doctor suddenly exclaimed, <q>people +may find out that I’m back without him.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh was equal to the emergency.</p> + +<p><q>You must leave again at once,</q> he said decisively, +rising from the table; <q>and there’s no good wasting time, +either.</q></p> + +<p><q>What do you mean?</q> asked the bewildered doctor, +who had not yet assimilated the criminal point of view.</p> + +<p><q>We’ll put our luggage straight on to a cab, drive off to +other rooms—I know a cheap place that will do—and if +by any chance inquiries are made, people must be told +that you are still abroad. Nobody must hear of your coming +home to-night.</q></p> + +<p><q>Is it&qdash;</q> began Twiddel, dubiously.</p> + +<p><q>Is it what?</q> snapped his friend.</p> + +<p><q>Is it worth it?</q></p> + +<p><q>Is £500, not to speak of two reputations, worth it! +Come on!</q></p> + +<p>The unfortunate doctor sighed, and rose too. He was +beginning to think that the nefarious acquisition of fees +might have drawbacks after all.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0402" type="chapter"> +<pb n="187"/><anchor id="Pg187"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER II.</hi> +</head> + +<p>The chronicle must now go back a few days and follow +another up-express.</p> + +<p><q>I must either be a clergyman or a policeman,</q> Mr +Bunker reflected, in the corner of his carriage; <q>they seem +to me to be on the whole the two least molested professions. +Each certainly has a livery which, if its occupier is +ordinarily judicious, ought to serve as a certificate of +sanity. To me all policemen are precisely alike, but I +daresay they know them apart in the force, and as all the +beats and crossings are presumably taken already, I +might excite suspicion by my mere superfluity. Besides, +a theatrical costumier’s uniform would possibly lack some +ridiculous but essential detail.</q></p> + +<p>He lit another cigar and looked humorously out of the +window.</p> + +<p><q>I shall take orders. An amateur theatrical clergyman’s +costume will be more comfortable, and probably +less erroneous. They allow them some latitude, I believe; +and I don’t suppose there are any visible ordination +scars whose absence would give me away. I shall certainly +study the first reverend brother I meet to see.</q></p> + +<p>Thus wisely ruminating, he arrived in London at a very +early hour on a chilly morning, and drove straight to a +small hotel near King’s Cross, where the landlord was +much gratified at receiving so respectable a guest as the +<pb n="188"/><anchor id="Pg188"/> +Rev. Alexander Butler. (<q>I must begin with a B.</q> said +Mr Bunker to himself; <q>I think it’s lucky.</q>)</p> + +<p>It is true the reverend gentleman was in evening clothes, +while his hat and coat had a singularly secular, not to say +fashionable, appearance; but, as he mentioned casually +in the course of some extremely affable remarks, he had +been dining in a country house, and had not thought it +worth while changing before he left. After breakfasting +he dressed himself in an equally secular suit of tweeds +and went out, he mentioned incidentally, to call at his +tailor’s for his professional habit, which he seemed surprised +to learn had not yet been forwarded to the hotel.</p> + +<p>A visit to a certain well-known firm of theatrical costumiers +was followed by his reappearance in a cab accompanied +by a bulky brown paper parcel; and presently he +emerged from his room attired more consistently with his +office, much to his own satisfaction, for, as he observed, +<q>I cannot say I approve of clergymen masquerading as +laymen.</q></p> + +<p>His opinion on the converse circumstance was not expressed.</p> + +<p>Much to his landlord’s disappointment, he informed +him that he should probably leave again that afternoon, +and then he went out for a walk.</p> + +<p>About half an hour later he was once more in the street +where, not so very long ago, a very exciting cab-race had +finished. He strolled slowly past Dr Twiddel’s house. +The blinds of the front room were down; at that hour +there was no sign of life about it, and he saw nothing at +all to arrest his attention. Then he looked down the +<pb n="189"/><anchor id="Pg189"/> +other side of the street, and to his great satisfaction spied +a card, with the legend <q>Apartments to let,</q> in one of the +first-floor windows of a house immediately opposite.</p> + +<p>He rang the bell, and in a moment a rotund and loquacious +landlady appeared. Yes, the drawing-room was to +let; would the reverend gentleman come up and see it? +Mr Bunker went up, and approved. They readily +agreed upon terms, and the landlady, charmed with her +new lodger’s appearance and manners, no less than with +the respectability of his profession, proceeded to descant +at some length on the quiet, comfort, and numerous other +advantages of the apartments.</p> + +<p><q>Just the very plice you wants, sir. We ’ave ’ad +clerical gentlemen ’ere before, sir; in fact, there’s +one a-staying ’ere now, second floor,—you may know of +’im, sir,—the Reverend Mr John Duggs; a very pleasant +gentleman you’ll find him, sir. I’ll tell ’im +you’re ’ere, sir; ’e’d be +sure to like to meet another gentleman of the syme cloth, +has they say.</q></p> + +<p>Somehow or other the Rev. Mr Butler failed to display +the hearty pleasure at this announcement that the worthy +Mrs Gabbon had naturally expected.</p> + +<p>Aloud he merely said, <q>Indeed,</q> politely, but with no +unusual interest.</p> + +<p>Within himself he reflected, <q>The deuce take Mr John +Duggs! However, I want the rooms, and a man must risk +something.</q></p> + +<p>As a precautionary measure he visited a second-hand +bookseller on his way back, and purchased a small assortment +of the severest-looking works on theology they kept +<pb n="190"/><anchor id="Pg190"/> +in stock; and these, with his slender luggage, he brought +round to Mrs Gabbon’s in the course of the afternoon.</p> + +<p>He looked carefully out of his sitting-room window, +but the doctor’s blinds were still down, and he saw no one +coming or going about the house; so he began his inquiries +by calling up his landlady.</p> + +<p><q>I have been troubled with lumbago, Mrs Gabbon,</q> he +began.</p> + +<p><q>Dearie me, sir,</q> said Mrs Gabbon, <q>I’m sorry to ’ear +that; you that looks so ’ealthy too! Well, one never +knows what’s be’ind a ’appy hexterior, does one, sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, Mrs Gabbon,</q> replied Mr Bunker, solemnly; +<q>one never knows what even a clergyman’s coat conceals.</q></p> + +<p><q>That’s very true, sir. In the midst of life we are +in&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Lumbago,</q> interposed Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p>Mrs Gabbon looked a trifle startled.</p> + +<p><q>Well,</q> he continued with the same gravity, <q>I may +unfortunately have occasion to consult a doctor&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>There’s Dr Smith,</q> interrupted Mrs Gabbon, her +equanimity quite restored by his ecclesiastical tone and +the mention of ailments; <q>’e attended my poor dear +’usband hall through his last illness; an huncommon clever +doctor, sir, as I ought to know, sir, bein’&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>No doubt an excellent man, Mrs Gabbon; but I should +like to know of one as near at hand as possible. Now I +see the name of a Dr Twiddel&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>I wouldn’t recommend ’im, sir,</q> said Mrs Gabbon, +pursing her mouth.</p> +<pb n="191"/><anchor id="Pg191"/> + +<p><q rend="pre: none"><add><anchor id="E7"/><ref +target="e7">“</ref></add>Indeed? Why not?</q></p> + +<p><q>’E attended Mrs Brown’s servant-girl, +sir,—she bein’ +the lady as has the ’ouse next door,—and what he +give <hi rend="font-style: italic">’er</hi> +didn’t do no good. Mrs Brown tell me ’erself.</q></p> + +<p><q>Still, in an emergency&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Besides which, he ain’t at ’ome, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Where has he gone?</q></p> + +<p><q>Abroad, they do say, sir; though I don’t rightly know +much about ’im.</q></p> + +<p><q>Has he been away long?</q></p> + +<p>Mrs Gabbon considered.</p> + +<p><q>It must ’ave bin before the middle of November he +went, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha!</q> exclaimed Mr Bunker, keenly, though apparently +more to himself than his landlady.</p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon, sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>The middle of November, you say? That’s a long +holiday for a doctor to take.</q></p> + +<p><q>’E ’avn’t no practice to speak +of,—not as I knows of, leastways.</q></p> + +<p><q>What sort of a man is he—young or old?</q></p> + +<p><q>By my opinion, sir, ’e’s too young. I +don’t ’old by +them young doctors. Now Dr Smith, sir&qdash;</q></p> + +<p><q>Dr Twiddel is quite a young man, then?</q></p> + +<p><q>What I’d call little better than a boy, sir. They tell +me they lets ’em loose very young nowadays.</q></p> + +<p><q>About twenty-five, say?</q></p> + +<p><q>’E might be that, sir; but I don’t know much about +’im, sir. Now Dr Smith, sir, ’e’s different.</q></p> + +<p>In fact at this point Mrs Gabbon showed such a tendency +<pb n="192"/><anchor id="Pg192"/> +to turn the conversation back to the merits of Dr +Smith and the precise nature of Mr Bunker’s ailment, +that her lodger, in despair, requested her to bring up a cup +of tea as speedily as possible.</p> + +<p><q>Before the middle of November,</q> he said to himself. +<q>It is certainly a curious coincidence.</q></p> + +<p>To a gentleman of Mr Bunker’s sociable habits and +active mind, the prospect of sitting day by day in the company +of his theological treatises and talkative landlady, +and watching an apparently uninhabited house, seemed +at first sight even less entertaining than a return to +Clankwood. But, as he said of himself, he possessed +a kind of easy workaday philosophy, and, besides that, an +apparently irresistible attraction for the incidents of +life.</p> + +<p>He had barely finished his cup of tea, and was sitting +over the fire smoking one of the Baron’s cigars and looking +through one of the few books he had brought that bore no +relation to divinity, his feet high upon the side of the +mantelpiece, his ready-made costume perhaps a little +more unbuttoned than the strictest propriety might approve, +and a stiff glass of whisky-and-water at his elbow, +when there came a rap at his door.</p> + +<p>In response to his <q>Come in,</q> a middle-aged gentleman, +dressed in clerical attire, entered. He had a broad, +bearded face, a dull eye, and an indescribably average +aspect.</p> + +<p><q>The devil! Mr John Duggs himself,</q> thought Mr +Bunker, hastily adopting a more conventional attitude +and feeling for his button-holes.</p> +<pb n="193"/><anchor id="Pg193"/> + +<p><q>Ah—er—Mr Butler, I believe?</q> said the stranger, +with an apologetic air.</p> + +<p><q>The same,</q> replied Mr Bunker, smiling affably.</p> + +<p><q>I,</q> continued his visitor, advancing with more confidence, +<q>am Mr Duggs. I am dwelling at present in the +apartment immediately above you, and hearing of the +arrival of a fellow-clergyman, through my worthy friend +Mrs Gabbon, I have taken the liberty of calling. She +gave me to understand that you were not undesirous of +making my acquaintance, Mr Butler.</q></p> + +<p><q>The deuce, she did!</q> thought Mr Butler. Aloud he +answered most politely, <q>I am honoured, Mr Duggs. +Won’t you sit down?</q></p> + +<p>First casting a wary eye upon a chair, Mr Duggs seated +himself carefully on the edge of it.</p> + +<p><q>It is quite evident,</q> thought Mr Bunker, <q>that he has +spotted something wrong. I believe a bobby would have +been safer after all.</q></p> + +<p>He assumed the longest face he could draw, and remarked +sententiously, <q>The weather has been unpleasantly +cold of late, Mr Duggs.</q></p> + +<p>He flattered himself that his guest seemed instantly +more at his ease. Certainly he replied with as much +cordiality as a man with such a dull eye could be supposed +to display.</p> + +<p><q>It has, Mr Butler; in fact I have suffered from a chill +for some weeks. Ahem!</q></p> + +<p><q>Have something to drink,</q> suggested Mr Bunker, +sympathetically. <q>I’m trying a little whisky myself, as a +cure for cold.</q></p> +<pb n="194"/><anchor id="Pg194"/> + +<p><q>I—ah—I am sorry. I do not touch spirits.</q></p> + +<p><q>I, on the contrary, am glad to hear it. Too few of our +clergymen nowadays support the cause of temperance by +example.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker felt a little natural pride in this happily +expressed sentiment, but his visitor merely turned his cold +eye on the whisky bottle, and breathed heavily.</p> + +<p><q>Confound him!</q> he thought; <q>I’ll give him something +to snort at if he is going to conduct himself like this.</q></p> + +<p><q>Have a cigar?</q> he asked aloud.</p> + +<p>Mr Duggs seemed to regard the cigar-box a little less +unkindly than the whisky bottle; but after a careful look +at it he replied, <q>I am afraid they seem a little too strong +for me. I am a light smoker, Mr Butler.</q></p> + +<p><q>Really,</q> smiled Mr Bunker; <q>so many virtues in one +room reminds me of the virgins of Gomorrah.</q></p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon? The what?</q> asked Mr Duggs, +with a startled stare.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker suspected that he had made a slip in his +biblical reminiscences, but he continued to smile imperturbably, +and inquired with a perfect air of surprise, +<q>Haven’t you read the novel I referred to?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Duggs appeared a little relieved, but he answered +blankly enough, <q>I—ah—have not. What is the book +you refer to?</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh, don’t you know? To tell the truth, I forget the +title. It’s by a somewhat well-known lady writer of +religious fiction. A Miss—her name escapes me at this +moment.</q></p> + +<p>In fact, as Mr Bunker had no idea how long his friend +<pb n="195"/><anchor id="Pg195"/> +might be dwelling in the apartment immediately above +him, he thought it more prudent to make no statement +that could possibly be checked.</p> + +<p><q>I am no great admirer of religious fiction of any kind,</q> +replied Mr Duggs, <q>particularly that written by emotional +females.</q></p> + +<p><q>No,</q> said Mr Bunker, pleasantly; <q>I should imagine +your own doctrines were not apt to err on the sentimental +side.</q></p> + +<p><q>I am not aware that I have said anything to you about +my—doctrines, as you call them, Mr Butler.</q></p> + +<p><q>Still, don’t you think one can generally tell a man’s +creed from his coat, and his sympathies from the way he +cocks his hat?</q></p> + +<p><q>I think,</q> replied Mr Duggs, <q>that our ideas of our +vocation are somewhat different.</q></p> + +<p><q>Mine is, I admit,</q> said Mr Bunker, who had come to +the conclusion that the strain of playing his part was really +too great, and was now being happily carried along by his +tongue.</p> + +<p>Mr Duggs for a moment was evidently disposed to give +battle, but thinking better of it, he contented himself with +frowning at his younger opponent, and abruptly changed +the subject.</p> + +<p><q>May I ask what position you hold in the church, Mr +Butler?</q></p> + +<p><q>Why,</q> began Mr Bunker, lightly: it was on the tip of +his tongue to say <q>a clergyman, of course,</q> when he suddenly +recollected that he might be anything from the rank +of curate up to the people who wear gaiters (and who these +<pb n="196"/><anchor id="Pg196"/> +were precisely he didn’t know). An ingenious solution +suggested itself. He replied with a preliminary inquiry, +<q>Have you ever been in the East, Mr Duggs?</q></p> + +<p><q>I regret to say I have not hitherto had the opportunity.</q></p> + +<p><q>Thank the Lord for that,</q> thought Mr Bunker. <q>I +have been a missionary,</q> he said quietly, and looked +dreamily into the fire.</p> + +<p>It was a happy move. Mr Duggs was visibly impressed.</p> + +<p><q>Ah?</q> he said. <q>Indeed? I am much interested to +learn this, Mr Butler. It—ah—gives me perhaps a somewhat +different view of your—ah—opinions. Where did +your work lie?</q></p> + +<p><q>China,</q> replied Mr Bunker, thinking it best to keep as +far abroad as possible.</p> + +<p><q>Ha!</q> exclaimed Mr Duggs. <q>This is really extremely +fortunate. I am at present, Mr Butler, studying the +religions and customs of China at the British Museum, +with a view to going out there myself very shortly. I +already feel I know almost as much about that most interesting +country as if I had lived there. I should like to +talk with you at some length on the subject.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker saw that it was time to put an end to this +conversation, at whatever minor risk of perturbing his +visitor. He had been a little alarmed, too, by noticing +that Mr Duggs’ dull eye had wandered frequently to his +theological library, which with his usual foresight he had +strewn conspicuously on the table, and that any expression +it had was rather of suspicious curiosity than gratification.</p> +<pb n="197"/><anchor id="Pg197"/> + +<p><q>I should like to hear some of your experiences,</q> Mr +Duggs continued. <q>In what province did you work?</q></p> + +<p><q>In Hung Hang Ho,</q> replied Mr Bunker. His visitor +looked puzzled, but he continued boldly, <q>My experiences +were somewhat unpleasant. I became engaged to a +mandarin’s daughter—a charming girl. I was suspected, +however, of abetting an illicit traffic in Chinese lanterns. +My companions were manicured alive, and I only made +my escape in a pagoda, or a junk—I was in too much of a +hurry to notice which—at the imminent peril of my life. +Don’t go to China, Mr Duggs.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Duggs rose.</p> + +<p><q>Young man,</q> he said, sternly, <q>put away that fatal +bottle. I can only suppose that it is under the influence of +drink that you have ventured to tell me such an irreverent +and impossible story.</q></p> + +<p><q>Sir,</q> began Mr Bunker, warmly,—for he thought that +an outburst of indignation would probably be the safest +way of concluding the interview,—when he stopped abruptly +and listened. All the time his ears had been alive +to anything going on outside, and now he heard a cab +rattle up and stop close by. It might be at Dr Twiddel’s, +he thought, and, turning from his visitor, he sprang to the +window.</p> + +<p>Remarking distantly, <q>I hear a cab; it is possibly a +friend I am expecting,</q> Mr Duggs stepped to the other +window.</p> + +<p>It was only, however, a hansom at the door of the next +house, out of which a very golden-haired young lady was +stepping. +<pb n="198"/><anchor id="Pg198"/> +<q>Aha,</q> said Mr Bunker, quite forgetting the indignant +<hi rend="font-style: italic">rôle</hi> he had begun to play; +<q>rather nice! Is this your friend, Mr Duggs?</q></p> + +<p>Mr Duggs gave him one look of his dull eyes, and +walked straight for the door. As he went out he merely +remarked, <q>Our acquaintance has been brief, Mr Butler, +but it has been quite sufficient.</q></p> + +<p><q>Quite,</q> thought Mr Bunker.</p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0403" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER III.</hi> +</head> + +<p>That was Mr Bunker’s first and last meeting with the +Rev. John Duggs, and he took no small credit to himself +for having so effectually incensed his neighbour, without, +at the same time, bringing suspicion on anything more +pertinent than his sobriety.</p> + +<p>And yet sometimes in the course of the next three days +he would have been thankful to see him again, if only to +have another passage-of-arms. The time passed most +wearily; the consulting-room blinds were never raised; no +cabs stopped before the doctor’s door; nobody except the +little servant ever moved about the house.</p> + +<p>He could think of no plan better than waiting; and so he +waited, showing himself seldom in the streets, and even +sitting behind the curtain while he watched at the window. +After writing at some length to the Baron he had no +further correspondence that he could distract himself +with; he was even forced once or twice to dip into the +<pb n="199"/><anchor id="Pg199"/> +theological works. Mrs Gabbon had evidently <q>’eard +sommat</q> from Mr Duggs, and treated him to little of her +society. The boredom became so excessive that he decided +he must make a move soon, however rash it was.</p> + +<p>The only active step he took, and indeed the only step +he saw his way to take, was a call on Dr Twiddel’s +<hi rend="font-style: italic">locum</hi>. +But luck seemed to run dead against him. Dr Billson +had departed <q>on his holiday,</q> he was informed, and +would not return for three weeks. So Mr Bunker was +driven back to his window and the Baron’s cigars.</p> + +<p>It was the evening of his fourth day in Mrs Gabbon’s +rooms. He had finished a modest dinner and was dealing +himself hands at piquet with an old pack of cards, when +he heard the rattle of a cab coming up the street. The +usual faint flicker of hope rose: the cab stopped below +him, the flicker burned brighter, and in an instant he was +at the window. He opened the slats of the blind, and the +flicker was aflame. Before the doctor’s house a four-wheeled +cab was standing laden with luggage, and two +men were going up the steps. He watched the luggage +being taken in and the cab drive away, and then he turned +radiantly back to the fire.</p> + +<p><q>The curtain is up,</q> he said to himself. <q>What’s the +first act to be?</q></p> + +<p>Presently he put on his +<corr sic="wideawake"><anchor id="E8"/><ref +target="e8">wide-awake</ref></corr> +hat and went out for +a stroll. He walked slowly past the doctor’s house, but +there was nothing to be seen or heard. Remembering the +room at the back, he was not surprised to find no chink of +light about the front windows, and thinking it better not +to run the risk of being seen lingering there, he walked on. +<pb n="200"/><anchor id="Pg200"/> +He was in such good spirits, and had been cooped up so +continually for the last few days, that he went on and on, +and it was not till about a couple of hours had passed that +he approached his rooms again. As he came down the +street he was surprised to see by the light of a lamp that +another four-wheeler was standing before the doctor’s +house, also laden with luggage.</p> + +<p>Two men jumped in, one after another, and when he +had come at his fastest walk within twenty yards or so, +the cabman whipped up and drove rapidly away, luggage +and men and all.</p> + +<p>He looked up and down for a hansom, but there were +none to be seen. For a few yards he set off at a run in +pursuit, and then, finding that the horse was being driven +at a great rate, and remembering the paucity of stray cabs +in the quiet streets and roads round about, he stopped and +considered the question.</p> + +<p><q>After all,</q> he reflected, <q>it may not have been Dr +Twiddel who drove away; in fact, if it was he who arrived +in the first cab, it’s any odds against it. Pooh! It can’t +be. Still, it’s a curious thing if two cabs loaded with +luggage came to the house in the same evening, and one +drove away without unlading.</q></p> + +<p>With his spirits a little damped in spite of his philosophy, +he went back to his rooms.</p> + +<p>In the morning the consulting-room blinds were still +down, and the house looked as deserted as ever.</p> + +<p>He waited till lunch, and then he went out boldly and +pulled the doctor’s bell. The same little maid appeared, +but she evidently did not recognise the fashionable patient +<pb n="201"/><anchor id="Pg201"/> +who disappeared so mysteriously in the demure-looking +clergyman at the door.</p> + +<p><q>Is Dr Twiddel at home?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir, he ain’t back yet.</q></p> + +<p><q>He hasn’t been back?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker looked at her keenly, and then said to himself, +<q>She is lying.</q></p> + +<p>He thought he would try a chance shot.</p> + +<p><q>But he was expected home last night, I believe.</q></p> + +<p>The maid looked a little staggered.</p> + +<p><q>He ain’t been,</q> she replied.</p> + +<p><q>I happen to have heard that he called here,</q> he hazarded +again.</p> + +<p>This time she was evidently put about.</p> + +<p><q>He ain’t been here—as I knows of.</q></p> + +<p>He slipped half-a-crown into her hand.</p> + +<p><q>Think again,</q> he said, in his most winning accents.</p> + +<p>The poor little maid was obviously in a dilemma.</p> + +<p><q>Do you want him particular, sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>Particularly.</q></p> + +<p>She fidgeted a little.</p> + +<p><q>He told me,</q> he pursued, <q>that he might look in at +his rooms last night. He left no message for me?</q></p> + +<p><q>What +<corr sic="nime"><anchor id="E9"/><ref target="e9">name</ref></corr>, +sir?</q></p> + +<p><q>Mr Butler.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Then, my dear,</q> said Mr Bunker, with his most insinuating +smile, <q>he was here for a little, you can’t +deny?</q></p> +<pb n="202"/><anchor id="Pg202"/> + +<p>At the maid’s embarrassed glance down his long coat, +he suddenly realised that there was perhaps a distinction +between lay and clerical smiles.</p> + +<p><q>He might have just looked in, sir,</q> she admitted.</p> + +<p><q>But he didn’t want it known?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Quite right, I advised him not to, and you did very well +not to tell me at first.</q></p> + +<p>He smiled approvingly and made a pretence of turning +away.</p> + +<p><q>Oh, by the way,</q> he added, stopping as if struck by an +after-thought, <q>Is he still in town? He promised to leave +word for me, but he has evidently forgotten.</q></p> + +<p><q>I don’t know, sir; ’e didn’t say.</q></p> + +<p><q>What? He left <hi rend="font-style: italic">no</hi> word at all?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, sir.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker held out another half-crown.</p> + +<p><q>It’s truth, sir,</q> said the maid, drawing back; <q>we +don’t know where ’e is.</q></p> + +<p><q>Take it, all the same; you have been very discreet. +You have no idea?</q></p> + +<p>The maid hesitated.</p> + +<p><q>I <hi rend="font-style: italic">did</hi> ’ear Mr +Welsh say something about lookin’ for +rooms,</q> she allowed.</p> + +<p><q>In London?</q></p> + +<p><q>I expect so, sir; but ’e didn’t say no more.</q></p> + +<p><q>Mr Welsh is the friend who came with him, of course?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>Thanks,</q> said Mr Bunker. <q>By the way, Dr Twiddel +might not like your telling this even to a friend, so you +<pb n="203"/><anchor id="Pg203"/> +needn’t say I called, I’ll tell him myself when I see him, +and I won’t give you away.</q></p> + +<p>He smiled benignly, and the little maid thanked him +quite gratefully.</p> + +<p><q>Evidently,</q> he thought as he went away, <q>I was +meant for something in the detective line.</q></p> + +<p>He returned to his rooms to meditate, and the longer +he thought the more puzzled he became, and yet the +more convinced that he had taken up a thread that must +lead him somewhere.</p> + +<p><q>As for my plan of action,</q> he considered, <q>I see nothing +better for it than staying where I am—and watching. +This mysterious doctor must surely steal back some night. +Now and then I might go round the town and try a cast in +the likeliest bars—oh, hang me, though! I forgot I was a +clergyman.</q></p> + +<p>That night he had a welcome distraction in the shape of +a letter from the Baron. It was written from Brierley +Park, in the Baron’s best pointed German hand, and it ran +thus—</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q rend="post: none"><hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">My + dear Bunker</hi>,—I was greatly more delighted + than I am able to express to you from the amusing correspondence + you addressed me. How glad I am, I can + assure you, that you are still in safety and comfort. Remember, + my dear friend, to call for me when need arises, + although I do think you can guard yourself as well as + most alone.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">This leaves me happy and healthful, and + in utmost prosperity with the kind Sir Richard and his charming + Lady. You English certainly know well how to cause + time to pass with mirth. About instruction I say less!</q></p> + <pb n="204"/><anchor id="Pg204"/> + + <p><q rend="post: none">They have talked of you here. I laugh + and keep my tongue when they wonder who he is and whither gone + away. Now that anger is passed and they see I myself + enjoy the joke, they say, and especially do the ladies, + (You humbug, Bunker!) <q>How charming was the imitation, + Baron!</q> You can indeed win the hearts, if wishful + so. The Lady Grillyer and her unexpressable daughter + I have often seen. To-day they come here for two nights. + I did suggest it to Lady Brierley, and I fear she did suspect + the condition of my heart; but she charmingly smiled, + she asked them, and they come!</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">The Countess, I fear, does not now love + you much, my friend; but then she knows not the truth. The Lady + Alicia is strangely silent on the matter of Mr Bunker, but + in time she also doubtless will forgive.</q> <hi + rend="font-size: 100%">(At this Mr + Bunker smiled in some amusement.)</hi></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">When they leave Brierley I also shall + take my departure on the following day, that is in three days. + Therefore write hastily, Bunker, and name the place and hour + where we shall meet again and dine festively. I expect a + most reverent clergyman and much instructive discourse. + Ah, humbug!—Thine always,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"><hi + rend="font-variant: small-caps">Rudolph von Blitzenberg</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q rend="post: none"><hi + rend="font-style: italic">P.S.</hi>—She + is sometimes more kind and sometimes so + distant. Ah, I know not what to surmise! But to-morrow + or the next my fate will be decided. Give me of + your prayers, my reverent friend!</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="pre: none"><hi + rend="font-variant: small-caps">R. von B</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p><q>Dear old Baron!</q> said Mr Bunker. <q>Well, I’ve at +least a dinner to look forward to.</q></p> +<pb n="205"/><anchor id="Pg205"/> +</div> + +<div id="LL0404" type="chapter"> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER IV.</hi> +</head> + +<p>Dr Twiddel, meanwhile, was no less anxious to make +the Rev. Alexander Butler’s acquaintance than the Rev. +Alexander Butler was to make his. Not that he was +aware of that gentleman’s recent change of identity and +occupation; but most industrious endeavors to find a certain +Mr Beveridge were made in the course of the next few +days. He and Welsh were living modestly and obscurely +in the neighbourhood of the Pentonville Road, scouring +the town by day, studying a map and laying the most +ingenious plans at night. Welsh’s first effort, as soon as +they were established in their new quarters, was to induce +his friend to go down to Clankwood and make further +inquiries, but this Twiddel absolutely declined to do.</p> + +<p><q>My dear chap,</q> he answered, <q>supposing anything +were found out, or even suspected, what am I to say? +Old Congleton knows me well, and for his own sake doesn’t +want to make a fuss; but if he really spots that something +is wrong, he will be so afraid of his reputation that he’d +give me away like a shot.</q></p> + +<p><q>How are you going to give things away by going down +and seeing him?</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">If</hi> they have guessed +anything, I’ll give it away. I +haven’t your cheek, you know, and tact, and that sort of +thing; you’d much better go yourself.</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">I?</hi> It isn’t my business.</q></p> +<pb n="206"/><anchor id="Pg206"/> + +<p><q>You seem to be making it yours. Besides, Dr Congleton +thinks it is. You passed yourself off as the chap’s +cousin, and it is quite natural for you to go and inquire.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh pondered the point. <q>Hang it,</q> he said at last, +<q>it would do just as well to write. Perhaps it’s safer +after all.</q></p> + +<p><q>Well, you write.</q></p> + +<p><q>Why should I, rather than you?</q></p> + +<p><q>Because you’re his cousin.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh considered again. <q>Well, I don’t suppose it +matters much. I’ll write, if you’re afraid.</q></p> + +<p>It was these amiable little touches in his friend’s conversation +that helped to make Twiddel’s lot at this time +so pleasant. In fact, the doctor was learning a good deal +about human nature in cloudy weather.</p> + +<p>With great care Welsh composed a polite note of anxious +inquiry, and by return of post received the following +reply:—</p> + +<q rend="pre: none; post:none; display: block"> + <p><q rend="post: none"><hi rend="font-variant: small-caps">My + dear Sir</hi>,—I regret to inform you that we have + not so far recovered your cousin Mr Beveridge. In all + probability, however, this cannot be long delayed now, as + he was seen within the last week at a country house in + Dampshire, and is known to have fled to London immediately + on his recognition, but before he could be + secured. He was then clean shaved, and had been passing + under the name of Francis Bunker. We are making + strict inquiries for him in London.</q></p> + + <p><q rend="post: none">Nobody can regret the unfortunate + circumstance of his escape more than I, and, in justice to + myself and my institution, I can assure you that it was only + through the most unforeseen and remarkable ingenuity on your + cousin’s part that it occurred.</q></p> + <pb n="207"/><anchor id="Pg207"/> + + <p><q rend="post: none">Trusting that I may soon be able to + inform you of his recovery, I am, yours very truly,</q></p> + + <p rend="text-align: right"><q rend="post: none"><hi + rend="font-variant: small-caps">Adolphus S. Congleton</hi>.</q></p> +</q> + +<p>Their ardour was, if possible, increased by Dr Congleton’s +letter. Mr Beveridge was almost certainly in London, +and they knew now that they must look for a clean-shaved +man. Two private inquiry detectives were at +work; and on their own account they had mapped the +likeliest parts of London into beats, visiting every bar and +restaurant in turn, and occasionally hanging about stations +and the stopping-places for ’buses.</p> + +<p>It was dreadfully hard work, and after four days of it, +even Welsh began to get a little sickened.</p> + +<p><q>Hang it,</q> he said in the evening, <q>I haven’t had a +decent dinner since we came back. Mr Bunker can go to +the devil for to-night, I’m going to dine decently. I’m +sick of going round pubs, and not even stopping to have a +drink.</q></p> + +<p><q>So am I,</q> replied Twiddel, cordially; <q>where shall +we go?</q></p> + +<p><q>The Café Maccarroni,</q> suggested Welsh; <q>we can’t +afford a West-end place, and they give one a very decent +dinner there.</q></p> + +<p>The Café Maccarroni in Holborn is nominally of +foreign extraction,—certainly the waiters and the stout +proprietor come from sunnier lands,—and many of the +diners you can hear talking in strange tongues, with quick +gesticulations. But for the most part they are respectable +citizens of London, who drink Chianti because it stimulates +cheaply and not unpleasantly. The white-painted +<pb n="208"/><anchor id="Pg208"/> +room is bright and clean and seldom very crowded, the +British palate can be tickled with tolerable joints and +cutlets, and the foreign with gravy-covered odds and ends. +Altogether, it may be recommended to such as desire to +dine comfortably and not too conspicuously.</p> + +<p>The hour at which the two friends entered was later +than most of the <hi rend="font-style: italic">habitués</hi> +dine, and they had the room +almost to themselves. They faced each other across a +small table beside the wall, and very soon the discomforts +of their researches began to seem more tolerable.</p> + +<p><q>We’ll catch him soon, old man,</q> said Welsh, smiling +more affably than he had smiled since they came back. +<q>A day or two more of this kind of work and even London +won’t be able to conceal him any longer.</q></p> + +<p><q>Dash it, we must,</q> replied Twiddel, bravely. <q>We’ll +show old Congleton how to look for a lunatic.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha!</q> laughed Welsh, <q>I think he’ll be rather relieved +himself. Waiter! another bottle of the same.</q></p> + +<p>The bottle arrived, and the waiter was just filling their +glasses when a young clergyman entered the room and +walked quietly towards the farther end. Welsh raised +his glass and exclaimed, <q>Here’s luck to ourselves, Twiddel, +old man!</q></p> + +<p>At that moment the clergyman was passing their table, +and at the mention of this toast he started almost imperceptibly, +and then, throwing a quick glance at the two, +stopped and took a seat at the next table, with his back +turned towards them. Welsh, who was at the farther +side, looked at him with some annoyance, and made a +sign to Twiddel to talk a little more quietly.</p> +<pb n="209"/><anchor id="Pg209"/> + +<p>To the waiter, who came with the +<hi rend="font-style: italic">menu</hi>, the clergyman +explained in a quiet voice that he was waiting for a friend, +and asked for an evening paper instead, in which he soon +appeared to be deeply engrossed.</p> + +<p>At first the conversation went on in a lower tone, but in +a few minutes they insensibly forgot their neighbour, and +the voices rose again by starts.</p> + +<p><q>My dear fellow,</q> Welsh was saying, <q>we can discuss +that afterwards; we haven’t caught him yet.</q></p> + +<p><q>I want to settle it now.</q></p> + +<p><q>But I thought it was settled.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, it wasn’t,</q> said Twiddel, with a foreign and +vinous doggedness.</p> + +<p><q>What do you suggest then?</q></p> + +<p><q>Divide it equally—£250 each.</q></p> + +<p><q>You think you can claim half the credit for the idea +and half the trouble?</q></p> + +<p><q>I can claim <hi rend="font-style: italic">all</hi> the +risk—practically.</q></p> + +<p><q>Pooh!</q> said Welsh. <q>You think I risked nothing? +Come, come, let’s talk of something else.</q></p> + +<p><q>Oh, rot!</q> interrupted Twiddel, who by this time was +decidedly flushed. <q>You needn’t ride the high horse like +that, you are not Mr Mandell-Essington any longer.</q></p> + +<p>With a violent start, the clergyman brought his fist +crash on the table, and exclaimed aloud, <q>By Heaven, +that’s it!</q></p> +</div> + +<div id="LL0405" type="chapter"> +<pb n="210"/><anchor id="Pg210"/> +<index index="toc"/> +<index index="pdf"/> +<head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 100%">CHAPTER V.</hi> +</head> + +<p>As one may suppose, everybody in the room started in +great astonishment at this extraordinary outburst. With +a sharp <q>Hollo!</q> Twiddel turned in his seat, to see the +clergyman standing over him with a look of the keenest +inquiry in his well-favoured face.</p> + +<p><q>May I ask, Dr Twiddel, what you know of the gentleman +you just named?</q> he said, with perfect politeness.</p> + +<p>The conscience-smitten doctor gazed at him blankly, +and the colour suddenly left his face. But Welsh’s +nerves were stronger; and, as he looked hard at the +stranger, a jubilant light leaped to his eyes.</p> + +<p><q>It’s our man!</q> he cried, before his friend could gather +his wits. <q>It’s Beveridge, or Bunker, or whatever he +calls himself! Waiter!</q></p> + +<p>Instantly three waiters, all agog, hurried at his summons.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker regarded him with considerable surprise. +He had quite expected that the pair would be thrown into +confusion, but not that it would take this form.</p> + +<p><q>Excuse me, sir,</q> he began, but Welsh interrupted him +by crying to the leading waiter—</p> + +<p><q>Fetch a four-wheeled cab and a policeman, quick!</q> +As the man hesitated, he added, <q>This man here is an +escaped lunatic.</q></p> + +<p>The waiter was starting for the door, when Mr Bunker +stepped out quickly and interrupted him.</p> + +<p><q>Stop one minute, waiter,</q> he said, with a quiet, unruffled +<pb n="211"/><anchor id="Pg211"/> +air that went far to establish his sanity. <q>Do I +look like a lunatic? Kindly call the proprietor first.</q></p> + +<p>The stout proprietor was already on his way to their +table, and the one or two other diners were beginning to +gather round. Mr Bunker’s manner had impressed +even Welsh, and after his nature he took refuge in bluster.</p> + +<p><q>I say, my man,</q> he cried, <q>this won’t pass. Somebody +fetch a cab.</q></p> + +<p><q>Vat is dees about?</q> asked the proprietor, coming up.</p> + +<p><q>Your wine, I’m afraid, has been rather too powerful +for this gentleman,</q> Mr Bunker explained, with a smile.</p> + +<p><q>Look here,</q> blustered Welsh, <q>do you know you’ve +got a lunatic in the room?</q></p> + +<p><q>You can perhaps guess it,</q> smiled Mr Bunker, indicating +Welsh with his eyes.</p> + +<p>The waiters began to twitter, and Welsh, with an effort, +pulled himself together.</p> + +<p><q>My friend here,</q> he said, <q>is Dr Twiddel, a well-known +practitioner in London. He can tell you that he +certified this man as a lunatic, and that he afterwards +escaped from his asylum. That is so, Twiddel?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes,</q> assented Twiddel, whose colour was beginning +to come back a little.</p> + +<p><q>Who are you, sare?</q> asked the proprietor.</p> + +<p><q>Show him your card, Twiddel,</q> said Welsh, producing +his own and handing it over.</p> + +<p>The proprietor looked at both cards, and then turned to +Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>And who are you, sare?</q></p> + +<p><q>My name is Mandell-Essington.</q></p> +<pb n="212"/><anchor id="Pg212"/> + +<p><q>His name&qdash;</q> began Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>Have you a card?</q> interposed the proprietor.</p> + +<p><q>I am sorry I have not,</q> replied Mr Bunker (to still +call him by the name of his choice).</p> + +<p><q>His name is Francis Beveridge,</q> said Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>I beg your pardon; it is Mandell-Essington.</q></p> + +<p><q>Any other description?</q> Welsh asked, with a sneer.</p> + +<p><q>A gentleman, I believe.</q></p> + +<p><q>No other occupation?</q></p> + +<p><q>Not unless you can call a justice of the peace such,</q> +replied Mr Bunker, with a smile.</p> + +<p><q>And yet he disguises himself as a clergyman!</q> exclaimed +Welsh, triumphantly, turning to the proprietor.</p> + +<p>Mr Bunker saw that he was caught, but he merely +laughed, and observed, <q>My friend here disguises himself +in liquor, a much less respectable cloak.</q></p> + +<p>Unfortunately the humour of this remark was somewhat +thrown away on his present audience; indeed, coming +from a professed clergyman, it produced an unfavourable +impression.</p> + +<p><q>You are not a clergyman?</q> said the proprietor, suspiciously.</p> + +<p><q>I am glad to say I am not,</q> replied Mr Bunker, +frankly.</p> + +<p><q>Den vat do you do in dis dress?</q></p> + +<p><q>I put it on as a compliment to the cloth; I retain it at +present for decency,</q> said Mr Bunker, whose tongue had +now got a fair start of him.</p> + +<p><q>Mad,</q> remarked Welsh, confidentially, shrugging his +shoulders with really excellent dramatic effect.</p> +<pb n="213"/><anchor id="Pg213"/> + +<p>By this time the audience were disposed to agree with +him.</p> + +<p><q>You can give no better account of yourself dan dis?</q> +asked the proprietor.</p> + +<p><q>I am anxious to,</q> replied Mr Bunker, <q>but a public +restaurant is not the place in which I choose to give it.</q></p> + +<p><q>Fetch the cab and the policeman,</q> said Welsh to a +waiter.</p> + +<p>At this moment another gentleman entered the room, +and at the sight of him Mr Bunker’s face brightened, +and he stopped the waiter by a cry of, <q>Wait one moment; +here comes a gentleman who knows me.</q></p> + +<p>Everybody turned, and beheld a burly, very fashionably +dressed young man, with a fair moustache and a cheerful +countenance.</p> + +<p><q>Ach, Bonker!</q> he cried.</p> + +<p>This confirmation of Mr Bunker’s +<hi rend="font-style: italic">aliases</hi> ought, one +would expect, to have delighted the two conspirators, but, +instead, it produced the most remarkable effect. Twiddel +utterly collapsed, while even Welsh’s impudence at +last deserted him. Neither said a word as the Baron von +Blitzenberg greeted his friend with affectionate heartiness.</p> + +<p><q>My friend, zis is good for ze heart! Bot, how? vat +makes it here?</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, the most unfortunate mistake has +occurred. Two men here&qdash;</q> But at this moment he +stopped in great surprise, for the Baron was staring hard +first at Welsh and then at Twiddel.</p> + +<p><q>Ah!</q> he exclaimed, <q>Mr Mandell-Essington, I zink?</q></p> +<pb n="214"/><anchor id="Pg214"/> + +<p>Welsh hesitated for an instant, and his hesitation was +evident to all. Then he replied, <q>No, you are mistaken.</q></p> + +<p><q>Surely I cannot be; you did stay in Fogelschloss?</q> +said the Baron. <q>Is not zis Dr Twiddel?</q></p> + +<p><q>No—er—ah—yes,</q> stammered Twiddel, looking feebly +at Welsh.</p> + +<p>The Baron looked from the one to the other in great +perplexity, when Mr Bunker, who had been much puzzled +by this conversation, broke in, <q>Did you call that person +Mandell-Essington?</q></p> + +<p><q>I cairtainly zought it vas.</q></p> + +<p><q>Where did you meet him?</q></p> + +<p><q>In Bavaria, at my own castle.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are mistaken, sir,</q> said Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>One moment, Mr Welsh,</q> said Mr Bunker. <q>How +long ago was this, Baron?</q></p> + +<p><q>Jost before I gom to London. He travelled viz zis +ozzer gentleman, Dr Twiddel.</q></p> + +<p><q>You are wrong, sir,</q> persisted Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>For his health,</q> added the Baron.</p> + +<p>A light began to dawn on Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>His health?</q> he cried, and then smiled politely at +Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>We will talk this over, Mr Welsh.</q></p> + +<p><q>I am sorry I happen to be going,</q> said Welsh, taking +his hat and coat.</p> + +<p><q>What, without your lunatic?</q> asked Mr Bunker.</p> + +<p><q>That is Dr Twiddel’s affair, not mine. Kindly let me +pass, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, Mr Welsh; if you go now, it will be in the company +<pb n="215"/><anchor id="Pg215"/> +of that policeman you were so anxious to send for.</q> +There was such an unmistakable threat in Mr Bunker’s +voice and eye that Welsh hesitated. <q>We will talk it over, +Mr Welsh,</q> Mr Bunker repeated distinctly. <q>Kindly sit +down. I have several things to ask you and your friend +Dr Twiddel.</q></p> + +<p>Muttering something under his breath, Welsh hung up +his coat and hat, sat down, and then assuming an air of +great impudence, remarked, <q>Fire away, Mr +Mandell-Essington—Beveridge—Bunker, +or whatever you call yourself.</q></p> + +<p>Without paying the slightest attention to this piece of +humour, Mr Bunker turned to the bewildered proprietor, +and, to the intense disappointment of the audience, said, +<q>You can leave us now, thank you; our talk is likely to be +of a somewhat private nature.</q> As their gallery withdrew, +he drew up a chair for the Baron, and all four sat +round the small table.</p> + +<p><q>Now,</q> said Mr Bunker to Welsh, <q>you will perhaps +be kind enough to give me a precise account of your +doings since the middle of November.</q></p> + +<p><q>I’m d&qdash;d if I do,</q> replied Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>Sare,</q> interposed the Baron in his stateliest manner, +<q>I know not now who you may be, but I see you are no +gentleman. Ven you are viz gentlemen—and noblemen—you +vill please to speak respectfully.</q></p> + +<p>The stare that Welsh attempted in reply was somewhat +ineffective.</p> + +<p><q>Perhaps, Dr Twiddel, you can give the account I +want?</q> said Mr Bunker.</p> +<pb n="216"/><anchor id="Pg216"/> + +<p>The poor doctor looked at his friend, hesitated, and +finally stammered out, <q>I—I don’t see why.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker pulled a paper out of his pocket and showed +it to him.</p> + +<p><q>Perhaps this may suggest a why.</q></p> + +<p>When the doctor saw the bill for Mr Beveridge’s linen, +the last of his courage ebbed away. He glanced helplessly +at Welsh, but his ally was now leaning back in his +chair with such an irritating assumption of indifference, +and the prospective fee had so obviously vanished, that +he was suddenly seized with the most virtuous resolutions.</p> + +<p><q>What do you want to know, sir?</q> he asked.</p> + +<p><q>In the first place, how did you come to have anything +to do with me?</q></p> + +<p>Welsh, whose sharp wits instantly divined the weak +point in the attack, cut in quickly, <q>Don’t tell him if he +doesn’t know already!</q></p> + +<p>But Twiddel’s relapse to virtue was complete. <q>I was +asked to take charge of you while&qdash;</q> He hesitated.</p> + +<p><q>While I was unwell,</q> smiled Mr Bunker. <q>Yes?</q></p> + +<p><q>I was to travel with you.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ah!</q></p> + +<p><q>But I—I didn’t like the idea, you see; and so—in +fact—Welsh suggested that I should take him instead.</q></p> + +<p><q>While you locked me up in Clankwood?</q></p> + +<p><q>Yes.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha, ha!</q> laughed Mr Bunker, <q>I must say it was +a devilish humorous idea.</q></p> + +<p>At this Twiddel began to take heart again.</p> +<pb n="217"/><anchor id="Pg217"/> + +<p><q>I am very sorry, sir, for&qdash;</q> he began, when the +Baron interrupted excitedly.</p> + +<p><q>Zen vat is your name, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q><hi rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> am Mr +Mandell-Essington, Baron.</q></p> + +<p>The Baron looked at the other two in turn with wide-open +eyes.</p> + +<p>Then he turned indignantly upon Welsh.</p> + +<p><q>You were impostor zen, sare? You gom to my house +and call yourself a gentleman, and impose upon me, and +tell of your family and your estates. You, a low—er—er—vat +you say?—a low <hi rend="font-style: italic">cad!</hi> +Bonker, I cannot sit at ze same table viz zese persons!</q></p> + +<p>He rose as he spoke.</p> + +<p><q>One moment, Baron! Before we send these gentlemen +back to their really promising career of fraud, I want +to ask one or two more questions.</q> He turned to Twiddel. +<q>What were you to be paid for this?</q></p> + +<p><q>£500.</q></p> + +<p>Mr Bunker opened his eyes. <q>That’s the way my +money goes? From your anxiety to recapture me, I +presume you have not yet been paid?</q></p> + +<p><q>No, I assure you, Mr Essington,</q> said Twiddel, +eagerly; <q>I give you my word.</q></p> + +<p><q>I shall judge by the circumstances rather than your +word, sir. It is perhaps unnecessary to inform you that +you have had your trouble for nothing.</q> He looked at +them both as though they were curious animals, and +then continued: <q>You, Mr Welsh, are a really wonderfully +typical rascal. I am glad to have met you. You +can now put on your coat and go.</q> As Welsh still sat +<pb n="218"/><anchor id="Pg218"/> +defiantly, he added, <q><hi rend="font-style: italic">At +once</hi>, sir! or you may possibly +find policemen and four-wheeled cabs outside. I have +something else to say to Dr Twiddel.</q></p> + +<p>With the best air he could muster, Welsh silently cocked +his hat on the side of his head, threw his coat over his arm, +and was walking out, when a watchful waiter intercepted +him.</p> + +<p><q>Your bill, sare.</q></p> + +<p><q>My friend is paying.</q></p> + +<p><q>No, Mr Welsh,</q> cried the real Essington; <q>I think +you had better pay for this dinner yourself.</q></p> + +<p>Welsh saw the vigilant proprietor already coming towards +him, and with a look that augured ill for Twiddel +when they were alone, he put his hand in his pocket.</p> + +<p><q>Ha, ha!</q> laughed Essington, <q>the inevitable bill!</q></p> + +<p><q>And now,</q> he continued, turning to Twiddel, <q>you, +doctor, seem to me a most unfortunately constructed +biped; your nose is just long enough to enable you to be +led into a singularly original adventure, and your brains +just too few to carry it through creditably. Hang me if I +wouldn’t have made a better job of the business! But +before you disappear from the company of gentlemen I +must ask you to do one favour for me. First thing to-morrow +morning you will go down to Clankwood, tell +what lie you please, and obtain my legal discharge, or +whatever it’s called. After that you may go to the devil—or, +what comes much to the same thing, to Mr Welsh—for +all I care. You will do this without fail?</q></p> + +<p><q>Ye—es,</q> stammered Twiddel, <q>certainly, sir.</q></p> + +<p><q>You may now retire—and the faster the better.</q></p> +<pb n="219"/><anchor id="Pg219"/> + +<p>As the crestfallen doctor followed his ally out of the +restaurant, the Baron exclaimed in disgust, <q>Ze cads! +You are too merciful. You should punish.</q></p> + +<p><q>My dear Baron, after all I am obliged to these rascals +for the most amusing time I have ever had in my life, and +one of the best friends I’ve ever made.</q></p> + +<p><q>Ach, Bonker! Bot vat do I say? You are not Bonker +no more, and yet may I call you so, jost for ze sake of +pleasant times? It vill be too hard to change.</q></p> + +<p><q>I’d rather you would, Baron. It will be a perpetual +in memoriam record of my departed virtues.</q></p> + +<p><q>Departed, Bonker?</q></p> + +<p><q>Departed, Baron,</q> his friend repeated with a sigh; +<q>for how can I ever hope to have so spacious a field for +them again? Believe me, they will wither in an atmosphere +of orthodoxy. And now let us order dinner.</q></p> + +<p><q>But first,</q> said the Baron, blushing, <q>I haf a piece of +news.</q></p> + +<p><q>Baron, I guess it!</q></p> + +<p><q>Ze Lady Alicia is now mine! Congratulate!</q></p> + +<p><q>With all my heart, Baron! What could be a fitter +finish than the detection of villainy, the marriage of all +the sane people, and the apotheosis of the lunatic?</q></p> + +<milestone unit="tb"/> + +<trailer rend="text-align: center; font-size: 75%">THE END.</trailer> +</div> +</div> +</body> + +<back> + <div rend="page-break-before: right"> + <index index="toc"/> + <index index="pdf"/> + <head rend="text-align: center"> + <hi rend="font-size: 125%">ERRATA.</hi> + </head> + + <list><anchor id='e1'/> + <item>PART I.</item> + <item>CHAPTER IV.</item> + <item>Changed: he whistled, <ref target="E1"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">The</hi></ref> + sounds outside</item> + <item>To: he whistled, <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">the</hi> + sounds outside</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e2'/> + <item>PART I.</item> + <item>CHAPTER VI.</item> + <item>Changed: Ye<ref target="E2"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">-</hi></ref>es.</item> + <item>To: Ye<hi + rend="font-weight: bold">—</hi>es.</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e3'/> + <item>PART I.</item> + <item>CHAPTER VII.</item> + <item>Changed: which that <ref target="E3"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">disapponted</hi></ref> + official only</item> + <item>To: which that <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">disappointed</hi> + official only</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e4'/> + <item>PART III.</item> + <item>CHAPTER V.</item> + <item>Changed: something out<ref target="E4"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">.</hi></ref>” he said</item> + <item>To: something out<hi + rend="font-weight: bold">,</hi>” he said</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e5'/> + <item>PART IV.</item> + <item>CHAPTER I.</item> + <item>Changed: to me, <ref target="E5"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">$</hi></ref>200 to you</item> + <item>To: to me, <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">£</hi>200 to you</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e6'/> + <item>PART IV.</item> + <item>CHAPTER I.</item> + <item>Changed: <hi + rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> let him loose?<ref target="E6"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">’</hi></ref></item> + <item>To: <hi + rend="font-style: italic">I</hi> let him loose?<hi + rend="font-weight: bold">”</hi></item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e7'/> + <item>PART IV.</item> + <item>CHAPTER II.</item> + <item>Changed: <ref target="E7"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold"> </hi></ref>Indeed? + Why not?”</item> + <item>To: <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">“</hi>Indeed? + Why not?”</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e8'/> + <item>PART IV.</item> + <item>CHAPTER III.</item> + <item>Changed: on his <ref target="E8"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">wideawake</hi></ref> hat and</item> + <item>To: on his <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">wide-awake</hi> hat and</item> + </list> + + <list><anchor id='e9'/> + <item>PART IV.</item> + <item>CHAPTER III.</item> + <item>Changed: “What <ref target="E9"><hi + rend="font-weight: bold">nime</hi></ref>, sir?” + </item> + <item>To: “What <hi + rend="font-weight: bold">name</hi>, sir?” + </item> + </list> + </div> + + <div rend="page-break-before: right"> + <divGen type="pgfooter"/> + </div> +</back> + +</text> + +</TEI.2> + +<!-- +A WORD FROM PROJECT GUTENBERG + + +This file should be named 20485-tei.tei or 20485-tei.zip. + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + + + http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/4/8/20485/ + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one — the old editions will be +renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one +owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and +you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission +and without paying copyright royalties. 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