Count Bunker
Page 26
CHAPTER XXVI
Evidently Mr. Gallosh, while waiting for the Count's return, had soworked up his wrath that it was ready to explode on a hair-triggertouch; and, as evidently, his guest's extreme urbanity made itexceedingly difficult to carry out his threatening intentions.
"I want a word with you, Count. I've been wanting a word with you allmorning," he began.
"Believe me, Mr. Gallosh, I appreciate the compliment."
"Where were you? I mean it was verra annoying not to find you when Iwanted you."
The merchant was so evidently divided between anxiety to blurt out hismind while it was yet hot from the making up, and desire not to affronta guest and a man of rank, that the Count could scarcely restrain asmile.
"It is equally annoying to myself. I should have enjoyed a conversationwith you at any hour since breakfast."
"Umph," replied his host.
"What can I do for you now?"
Mr. Gallosh looked at him steadfastly.
"Count Bunker," said he, "I am only a plain man----"
"The ladies, I assure you, are not of that opinion," interposed theCount politely.
Mr. Gallosh seemed to him to receive this compliment with more suspicionthan pleasure.
"I'm saying," he repeated, "that I'm only a plain man of business, andyou and your friend are what you'd call swells."
"God forbid that I should!" the Count interjected fervently. "'Toffs,'possibly--but no matter, please continue."
"Well, now, so long as his lordship likes to treat me and my family askind of belonging to a different sphere, I'm well enough content. I makeno pretensions, Count, to be better than what I am."
"I also, Mr. Gallosh, endeavor to affect a similar modesty. It's ratherbecoming, I think, to a fine-looking man."
"It's becoming to any kind of man that he should know his place. But Iwas saying, I'd have been content if his lordship had been distant andpolite and that kind of thing. But was he? You know yourself, Count, howhe's behaved!"
"Perfectly politely, I trust."
"But he's not been what you'd call distant, Count Bunker. In fac', thelong and the short of it is just this--what's his intentions towards myEva?"
"Is it Mrs. Gallosh who desires this information?"
"It is. And myself too; oh, I'm not behindhand where the reputation ofmy daughters is concerned!"
"Mrs. G. has screwed him up to this," said the Count to himself. Aloud,he asked with his blandest air--
"Was not Lord Tulliwuddle available himself?"
"No; he's gone out."
"Alone?"
"No, not alone."
"In brief, with Miss Gallosh?"
"Quite so; and what'll he be saying to her?"
"He is a man of such varied information that it's hard to guess."
"From all I hear, there's not been much variety so far," said Mr.Gallosh drily.
"Dear me!" observed the Count.
His host looked at him for a few moments.
"Well?" he demanded at length.
"Pardon me if I am stupid, but what comment do you expect me to make?"
"Well, you see, we all know quite well you're more in his lordship'sconfidence than any one else in the house, and I'd take it as a favor ifyou'd just give me your honest opinion. Is he just playing himself--orwhat?"
The worthy Mr. Gallosh was so evidently sincere, and looked at him withsuch an appealing eye, that the Count found the framing of a suitablereply the hardest task that had yet been set him.
"Mr. Gallosh, if I were in Tulliwuddle's shoes I can only say that Ishould consider myself a highly fortunate individual; and I do sincerelybelieve that that is his own conviction also."
"You think so?"
"I do indeed."
Though sensibly relieved, Mr. Gallosh still felt vaguely conscious thatif he attempted to repeat this statement for the satisfaction of hiswife, he would find it hard to make it sound altogether as reassuringas when accompanied by the Count's sympathetic voice. He ruminated for aminute, and then suddenly recalled what the Count's evasive answers andsympathetic assurances had driven from his mind. Yet it was, in fact,the chief occasion of concern.
"Do you know, Count Bunker, what his lordship has gone and done?"
"Should one inquire too specifically?" smiled the Count; but Mr. Galloshremained unmoved.
"You can bear me witness that he told us he was giving this gathering inmy Eva's honor?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Well, he went and told Miss Maddison it was for her sake?"
"Incredible!"
"It's a fact!"
"I refuse to believe my friend guilty of such perfidy! Who told youthis?"
"The Maddisons themselves."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the Count, as heartily as he had laughed at LincolnLodge; "don't you know these Americans sometimes draw the long bow?"
"You mean to say you don't believe they told the truth?"
"My dear Mr. Gallosh, I would answer you in the oft-quoted words ofHorace--'Arma virumque cano.' The philosophy of a solar system is sometimes compressed within an eggshell. Say nothing and see!"
He shook his host heartily by the hand as he spoke, and Mr. Gallosh,to his subsequent perplexity, found the interview apparently at asatisfactory conclusion.
"And now," said the Count to himself, "'Bolt!' is the word."
As he set about his packing in the half-hour that yet remained beforeluncheon, he was surprised to note that his friend had evidently left noorders yet concerning any preparations for his departure.
"Confound him! I thought he had made up his mind last night! Ah,there he comes--and singing, too, by Jingo! If he wants another day'sdalliance----"
At this point his reflections were interrupted by the entrance of thejovial Baron himself. He stopped and stared at his friend.
"Vat for do you pack up?"
"Because we leave this afternoon."
"Ach, Bonker, absurd! To-morrow--yes, to-morrow ve vill leave."
Bunker folded his arms and looked at him seriously.
"I have had two interviews this morning--one with Mr. Maddison, theother with Mr. Gallosh. They were neither of them pleased with you,Baron."
"Not pleased? Vat did zey say?"
Depicting the ire of these gentlemen in the most vivid terms, the Countgave him a summary of his morning's labors.
"Pooh, pooh! Tuts, tuts!" exclaimed the Baron. "I vill make zat allright; never do you fear. Eva, she does smile on me already. Eleanor,she vill also ven I see her. Leave it to me."
"You won't go to-day?"
"To-morrow, Bonker, I swear I vill for certain!"
Bonker pondered.
"Hang it!" he exclaimed. "The worst of it is, I've pledged myself to goupon a visit."
The Baron listened to the tale of his incipient romance with thegreatest relish.
"Bot go, my friend! Bot go!" he cried, "and zen come back here to-morrowand ve vill leave togezzer."
"Leave you alone, with the barometer falling and the storm-cone hoisted?I don't like to, Baron."
"Bot to leave zat leetle girl--eh, Bonker? How is zat?"
"Was ever a man so torn between two duties!" exclaimed the conscientiousCount.
"Ladies come first!" quoth the Baron.
Bunker was obviously strongly tending to this opinion also.
"Can I trust you to guide your own destinies without me?"
The Baron drew himself up with a touch of indignation.
"Am I a child or a fool? I have guided mine destiny vary vell so far,and I zink I can still so do. Ven vill you go to see Miss Wallingford?"
"I'll hire a trap from the village after lunch and be off about four,"said the Count. "Long live the ladies! Learn wisdom by my example! Willthis tie conquer her, do you think?"
In this befitting spirit he drove off that afternoon, and the Baron,after waving his adieus from the door, strode brimful of confidencetowards the drawing-room. His thoughts must have gone astray, for heturned by accident into the wro
ng room--a small apartment hardly usedat all; and before he had time to turn back he stopped petrified at thesight of a picture on the wall. There could be no mistake--it was theoriginal of that ill-omened print he had seen in the Edinburgh hotel,"The Execution of Lord Tulliwuddle." The actual title was there plain tosee.
"Zen it vas not a hoax!" he gasped.
His first impulse was to look for a bicycle and tear after the dog-cart.
"But can I ride him in a kilt?" he reflected.
By the time he had fully debated this knotty point his friend was milesupon his way, and the Baron was left ruefully to lament his rashness inparting with such an ally.