Count Bunker

by J. Storer Clouston

  CHAPTER X

  The Baron sat among his heirlooms, laboriously disengaging himself fromhis kilt. Fitfully throughout this process he would warble snatches ofan air which Miss Gallosh had sung.

  "Whae vould not dee for Sharlie?" he trolled, "Ze yong chevalier!"

  "Then you don't think of leaving to-morrow morning?" asked Count Bunker,who was watching him with a complacent air.

  "Mein Gott, no fears!"

  "We had better wait, perhaps, till the afternoon?"

  "I go not for tree veeks! Gaben sie--das ist, gim'me zat tombler. Vunmore of mountain juice to ze health of all Galloshes! Partic'ly of vun!Eh, old Bonker?"

  The Count took care to see that the mountain juice was well diluted.His friend had already found Scottish hospitality difficult to enjoy inmoderation.

  "Baron, you gave us a marvellously lifelike representation of a Jacobitechieftain!"

  The Baron laughed a trifle vacantly.

  "Ach, it is easy for me. Himmel, a Blitzenberg should know how!Vollytoddle--Toddyvolly--whatsh my name, Bonker?"

  The Count informed him.

  "Tollivoddlesh is nozing to vat I am at home! Abs'lutely nozing! I havea house twice as big as zis, and servants--Ach, so many I know not! Bot,mein Bonker, it is not soch fon as zis! Mein Gott, I most get to bed. Itoss ze caber to-morrow."

  And upon the arm of his faithful ally he moved cautiously towards hisbedroom.

  But if he had enjoyed his evening well, his pleasure was nothing to thegratification of his hosts. They could not bring themselves to break uptheir party for the night: there were so many delightful reminiscencesto discuss.

  "Of all the evenings ever I spent," declared Mr. Gallosh, "this fairtakes the cake. Just to think of that aristocratic young fellow beingas companionable-like! When first I put eyes on him, I said tomyself--'You're not for the likes of us. All lords and ladies is yourkind. Never a word did he say in the boat till he heard the pipes play,and then I really thought he was frightened! It must just have been akind of home-sickness or something."

  "It'll have been the tuning up that set his teeth on edge," Mrs. Galloshsuggested practically.

  "Or perhaps his heart was stirred with thoughts of the past!" said MissGallosh, her eyes brightening.

  In any case, all were agreed that the development of his hereditaryinstincts had been extraordinarily rapid.

  "I never really properly talked with a lord before," sighed Mrs.Rentoul; "I hope they're all like this one."

  Mrs. Gallosh, on the other hand, who boasted of having had onetete-a-tete and joined in several general conversations with thepeerage, appraised Lord Tulliwuddle with greater discrimination.

  "Ah, he's got a soupcon!" she declared. "That's what I admire!"

  "Do you mean his German accent?" asked Mr. Cromarty-Gow, who wasrenowned for a cynical wit, and had been seeking an occasion to air itever since Lord Tulliwuddle had made Miss Gallosh promise to dance areel with him.

  But the feeling of the party was so strongly against a breath ofirreverent criticism, and their protest so emphatic, that he presentlystrolled off to the smoking-room, wishing that Miss Gallosh, at least,would exercise more critical discrimination.

  "Do you think would they like breakfast in their own room, Duncan?"asked Mrs. Gallosh.

  "Offer it them--offer it them; they can but refuse, and it's a kind ofcompliment to give them the opportunity."

  "His lordship will not be wanting to rise early," said Mr. Rentoul. "Didyou notice what an amount he could drink, Duncan? Man, and he carried itfine! But he'll be the better of a sleep-in in the morning, him comingfrom a journey too."

  Mr. Rentoul was a recognized authority on such questions, having, beforethe days of his affluence, travelled for a notable firm of distillers.His praise of Lord Tulliwuddle's capacity was loudly echoed by Mr.Gallosh, and even the ladies could not but indulgently agree that he hadexhibited a strength of head worthy of his race.

  "And yet he was a wee thing touched too," said Mr. Rentoul sagely."Maybe you were too far gone yourself, Duncan, to notice it, and theladies would just think it was gallantry; but I saw it in his voice andhis legs--oh, just a wee thingie, nothing to speak of."

  "Surely you are mistaken!" cried Miss Gallosh. "Wasn't it onlyexcitement at finding himself at Hechnahoul?"

  "There's two kinds of excitement," answered the oracle. "And this wasthe kind I'm best acquaint with. Oh, but it was just a wee bittie."

  "And who thinks the worse of him for it?" cried Mr. Gallosh.

  This question was answered by general acclamation in a manner and with aspirit that proved how deeply his lordship's gracious behavior had laidhold of all hearts.